The native American has been generally despised by his white
conquerors for his poverty and simplicity. They forget, perhaps, that
his religion forbade the accumulation of wealth and the enjoyment of
luxury. To him, as to other single-minded men in every age and race,
from Diogenes to the brothers of SaintFrancis, from the Montanists to
the Shakers, the love of possessions has appeared a snare, and the
burdens of a complex society a source of needless peril and temptation.
Furthermore, it was the rule of his life to share the fruits of his
skill and success his less fortunate brothers. Thus he kept his spirit
free from the clog of pride, cupidity, or envy, and carried out, as he
believed, the divine decree -- a matter profoundly important to him.
It was not, then, wholly from ignorance or improvidence that he
failed to establish permanent towns and to develop a material
civilization. To the untutored sage, the concentration of population was
the prolific mother of all evils, moral no less than physical. He
argued that food is good, while surfeit kills; that love is good, but
lust destroys; and not less dreaded than the pestilence following upon
crowded and unsanitary dwellings was the loss of spiritual power
inseparable from too close contact with one's fellow-men. All who have
lived much out of doors know that there is a magnetic and nervous force
that accumulates in solitude and that is quickly dissipated life in a
crowd; and even his enemies have recognized the fact that for a certain
innate power and self-poise, wholly independent of circumstances, the
American Indian is unsurpassed among men.
The red man divided mind into two parts, -- the spiritual mind and
the physical mind. The first is pure spirit, concerned only with the
essence of things, and it was this he sought to strengthen by spiritual
prayer, during which the body is subdued by fasting and hardship. In
this type of prayer there was no beseeching favor or help. All matters
of personal or selfish concern, as success in hunting or warfare, relief
from sickness, or the sparing of a beloved life, were definitely
relegated to the plane of the lower or material mind, and all
ceremonies, charms, or incantations designed to secure a benefit or to
avert a danger, were recognized as emanating from the physical self
The rites of this physical worship, again, were wholly symbolic, and
the Indian no more worshiped the Sun than the Christian adores the
Cross. The Sun and the Earth, by an obvious parable, holding scarcely
more of poetic metaphor than of scientific truth, were in his view the
parents of all organic life. From the Sun, as the universal father,
proceeds the quickening principle in nature, and in the patient and
fruitful womb of our mother, the Earth, are hidden embryos of plants and
men. Therefore our reverence and love for them was really an
imaginative extension of our love for our immediate parents, and with
this sentiment of filial piety was joined a willingness to appeal to
them, as to a father, for such good gifts as we may desire. This is the
material or physical prayer.
The elements and majestic forces in nature, Lightning, Wind, Water,
Fire, and Frost, were regarded with awe as spiritual powers, but always
secondary and intermediate in character. We believed that the spirit
pervades all creation and that every creature possesses a soul in some
degree, though not necessarily a soul conscious of itself. The tree, the
waterfall, the grizzly bear, each is an embodied Force, and as such an
object of reverence.
The Indian loved to come into sympathy and spiritual communion with
his brothers of the animal kingdom, whose inarticulate souls had for him
something of the sinless purity that we attribute to the innocent and
irresponsible child. He had faith in their instincts, as in a mysterious
wisdom given from above; and while he humbly accepted the supposedly
voluntary sacrifice of their bodies to preserve his own, he paid homage
to their spirits in prescribed prayers and offerings.
In every religion there is an element of the supernatural, varying
with the influence of pure reason over its devotees. The Indian was a
logical and clear thinker upon matters within the scope of his
understanding, but he had not yet charted the vast field of nature or
expressed her wonders in terms of science. With his limited knowledge of
cause and effect, he saw miracles on every hand, -- the miracle of life
in seed and egg, the miracle of death in lightning flash and in the
swelling deep! Nothing of the marvelous could astonish him; as that a
beast should speak, or the sun stand still. The virgin birth would
appear scarcely more miraculous than is the birth of every child that
comes into the world, or the miracle of the loaves and fishes excite
more wonder than the harvest that springs from a single ear of corn.
Who may condemn his superstition? Surely not the devout Catholic even
Protestant missionary, who teaches Bible miracles as literal fact! The
logical man must either deny all miracles or none, and our American
Indian myths and hero stories are perhaps, in themselves, quite as
credible as those of the Hebrews of old. If we are of the modern type of
mind, that sees in natural law a majesty and grandeur far more
impressive than any solitary infraction of it could possibly be, let us
not forget that, after all, science has not explained everything. We
have still to face the ultimate miracle, -- the origin and principle of
life! Here is the supreme mystery that is the essence of worship,
without which there can be no religion, and in the presence of this
mystery our attitude cannot be very unlike that of the natural
philosopher, who beholds with awe the Divine in all creation.
It is simple truth that the Indian did not, so long as his native
philosophy held sway over his mind, either envy or desire to imitate the
splendid achievements of the white man. In his own thought he rose
superior to them! He scorned them, even as a lofty spirit absorbed in
its stern task rejects the soft beds, the luxurious food, the
pleasure-worshiping dalliance of a rich neighbor was clear to him that
virtue and happiness are independent of these things, if not
incompatible with them.
There was undoubtedly much in primitive Christianity to appeal to
this man, and Jesus' hard sayings to the rich and about the rich would
have been entirely comprehensible to him. Yet the religion that is
preached in our churches and practiced by our congregations, with its
element of display and self-aggrandizement, its active proselytism, and
its open contempt of all religions but its own, was for a long time
extremely repellent. To his simple mind, the professionalism of the
pulpit, the paid exhorter, the moneyed church, was an unspiritual and
unedifying, and it was not until his spirit was broken and his moral and
physical constitution undermined by trade, conquest, and strong drink,
that Christian missionaries obtained any real hold upon him. Strange as
it may seem, it is true that the proud pagan in his secret soul despised
the good men who came to convert and to enlighten him!
Nor were its publicity and its Phariseeism the only elements in the
alien religion that offended the red man. To him, it appeared shocking
and almost incredible that there were among this people who claimed
superiority many irreligious, who did not even pretend to profess the
national. Not only did they not profess it, but they stooped so low as
to insult their God with profane and sacrilegious speech! In our own
tongue His name was not spoken aloud, even with utmost reverence, much
less lightly or irreverently.
More than this, even in those white men who professed religion we
found much inconsistency of conduct. They spoke much of spiritual
things, while seeking only the material. They bought and sold
everything, labor, personal independence, the love of woman, and even
the ministrations of their holy faith! The lust for money, power, and
conquest so characteristic of the Anglo-Saxon race did not escape moral
condemnation at the hands of his untutored judge, nor did he fail to
contrast this conspicuous trait of the dominant race with the spirit of
the meek and lowly Jesus.
He might in time come to recognize that the drunkards and licentious
among white men, with whom he too frequently came in contact, were
condemned by the white man's religion as well, and must not be held to
discredit it. But it was not so easy to overlook or to excuse national
bad faith. When distinguished emissaries from the Father at Washington,
some of them ministers of the gospel and even bishops, came to the
Indian nations, and pledged to them in solemn treaty the national honor,
with prayer and mention of their God; and when such treaties, so made,
were promptly and shamelessly broken, is it strange that the action
should arouse not only anger, but contempt? The historians of the white
race admit that the Indian was never the first to repudiate his oath.
It is my personal belief, after thirty-five years' experience of it,
that there is no such thing as "Christian Civilization." I believe that
Christianity and modern civilization are opposed and irreconcilable, and
that the spirit of Christianity and of our ancient religion is
essentially the same.
* * * * *
THE public religious rites of the Plains Indians are few, and in
large part of modern origin, belonging properly to the so-called
"transition period." That period must be held to begin with the first
insidious effect upon their manners and customs of contact with the
dominant race, and many of the tribes were so in influenced long before
they ceased to lead the nomadic life.
The fur-traders, the "Black Robe" priests, the military, and finally
the Protestant missionaries, were the men who began the disintegration
of the Indian nations and the overthrow of their religion, seventy-five
to a hundred years before they were forced to enter upon reservation
life. We have no authentic study of them until well along in the
transition period, when whiskey and trade had already debauched their
native ideals.
During the era of reconstruction they modified their customs and
beliefs continually, creating a singular admixture of Christian with
pagan superstitions, and an addition to the old folk-lore of disguised
Bible stories under an Indian aspect. Even their music shows the
influence of the Catholic chants. Most of the material collected by
modern observers is necessarily of this promiscuous character.
It is noteworthy that the first effect of contact with the whites was
an increase of cruelty and barbarity, an intensifying of the dark
shadows in the picture! In this manner the "Sun Dance" of the Plains
Indians, the most important of their public ceremonials, was abused and
perverted until it became a horrible exhibition of barbarism, and was
eventually prohibited by the Government.
In the old days, when a Sioux warrior found himself in the very jaws
of destruction, he might offer a prayer to his father, the Sun, to
prolong his life. If rescued from imminent danger, he must acknowledge
the divine favor by making a Sun Dance, according to the vow embraced in
his prayer, in which he declared that he did not fear torture or death,
but asked life only for the sake of those who loved him. Thus the
physical ordeal was the fulfillment of a vow, and a sort of atonement
for what might otherwise appear to be reprehensible weakness in the face
of death. It was in the nature of confession and thank-offering to the
"Great Mystery," through the physical parent, the Sun, and did not
embrace a prayer for future favors.
The ceremonies usually took place from six months to a year after the
making of the vow, in order to admit of suitable preparation; always in
midsummer and before a large and imposing gathering. They naturally
included the making of a feast, and the giving away of much savage
wealth in honor of the occasion, although these were no essential part
of the religious rite.
When the day came to procure the pole, it was brought in by a party
of warriors, headed by some man of distinction. The tree selected was
six to eight inches in diameter at the base, and twenty to twenty-five
feet high. It was chosen and felled with some solemnity, including the
ceremony of the "filled pipe," and was carried in the fashion of a
litter, symbolizing the body of the man who made the dance. A solitary
teepee was pitched on a level spot at some distance from the village the
pole raised near at hand with the same ceremony, in the centre a
circular enclosure of fresh-cut.
Meanwhile, one of the most noted of our old men had carved out of
rawhide, or later of wood, two figures, usually those of a man and a
buffalo. Sometimes the figure of a bird, supposed to represent the
Thunder, was substituted for the buffalo. It was customary to paint the
man red and the animal black, and each was suspended from one end of the
cross-bar which was securely tied some two feet from the top of the
pole. I have never been able to determine that this cross had any
significance; it was probably nothing more than a dramatic coincidence
that surmounted the Sun-Dance pole with the symbol of Christianity.
The paint indicated that the man who was about to give thanks
publicly had been potentially dead, but was allowed to live by the
mysterious favor and interference of the Giver of Life. The buffalo hung
opposite the image of his own body in death, because it was the support
of his physical self, and a leading figure in legendary lore. Following
the same line of thought, when he emerged from the solitary lodge of
preparation, and approached the pole to dance, nude save for his
breech-clout and moccasins, his hair loosened daubed with clay, he must
drag after him a buffalo skull, representing the grave from which he had
escaped.
The dancer was cut or scarified on the chest, sufficient to draw
blood and cause pain, the natural accompaniments of his figurative
death. He took his position opposite the singers, facing the pole, and
dragging the skull by leather thongs which were merely fastened about
his shoulders. During a later period, incisions were made in the breast
or back, sometimes both, through which wooden skewers were drawn, and
secured by lariats to the pole or to the skulls. Thus he danced without
intermission for a day and a night, or even longer, ever gazing at the
sun in the daytime, and blowing from time to time a sacred whistle made
from the bone of a goose's wing.
In recent times, this rite was exaggerated and distorted into a mere
ghastly display of physical strength and endurance under torture, almost
on a level with the Caucasian institution of the bull-fight, or the yet
more modern prize-ring. Moreover, instead of an atonement or
thank-offering, it became the accompaniment of a prayer for success in
war, or in a raid upon the horses of the enemy. The number of dancers
was increased, and they were made to hang suspended from the pole by
their own flesh, which they must break loose before being released. I
well remember the comments in our own home upon the passing of this
simple but impressive ceremony, and its loss of all meaning and
propriety under the demoralizing additions which were some of the fruits
of early contact with the white man.
Perhaps the most remarkable organization ever known among American
Indians, that of the "Grand Medicine Lodge," was apparently an indirect
result of the labors of the early Jesuit missionaries. In it Caucasian
ideas are easily recognizable, and it seems reasonable to suppose that
its founders desired to establish an order that would successfully
resist the encroachments of the "Black Robes." However that may be, it
is an unquestionable fact that the only religious leaders of any note
who have arisen among the native tribes since the advent of the white
man, the "Shawnee Prophet" in 1762, and the half-breed prophet of the
"Ghost Dance" in 1890, both founded their claims or prophecies upon the
Gospel story. Thus in each case an Indian religious revival or craze,
though more or less threatening to the invader, was of distinctively
alien origin.
The Medicine Lodge originated among the Algonquin tribe, and extended
gradually throughout its branches, finally affecting the Sioux of the
Mississippi Valley, and forming a strong bulwark against the work of the
pioneer missionaries, who secured, indeed, scarcely any converts until
after the outbreak of 1862, when subjection, starvation, and
imprisonment turned our broken-hearted people to accept Christianity
seemed to offer them the only gleam of kindness or hope.
The order was a secret one, and in some respects not unlike the Free
Masons, being a union or affiliation of a number of lodges, each with
its distinctive songs and medicines. Leadership was in order of
seniority in degrees, which could only be obtained by merit, and women
were admitted to membership upon equal terms, with the possibility of
attaining to the highest honors. No person might become a member unless
his moral standing was excellent, all candidates remained on probation
for one or two years, and murderers and adulterers were expelled. The
commandments promulgated by this order were essentially the same as the
Mosaic Ten, so that it exerted a distinct moral influence, in addition
to its ostensible object, which was instruction in the secrets of
legitimate medicine.
In this society the uses of all curative and herbs known to us were
taught exhaustively and practiced mainly by the old, the younger members
being in training to fill the places of those who passed away. My
grandmother was a well-known and successful practitioner, and both my
mother and father were members, but did not practice.
A medicine or "mystery feast" was not a public affair, as members
only were eligible, and upon these occasions all the "medicine bags" and
totems of the various lodges were displayed and their peculiar
"medicine songs" were sung. The food was only partaken of by invited
guests, and not by the hosts, or lodge making the feast. The "Grand
Medicine Dance" was given on the occasion of initiating those candidates
who had finished their probation, a sufficient number of whom were
designated to take the places of those who had died since the last
meeting. Invitations were sent out in the form of small bundles of
tobacco. Two very large teepees were pitched facing one another, a
hundred feet apart, half open, and connected by a roofless hall or
colonnade of fresh-cut boughs. One of these lodges was for the society
giving the dance and the novices, the other was occupied by the
"soldiers," whose duty it was to distribute the refreshments, and to
keep order among the spectators. They were selected from among the best
and bravest warriors of the tribe.
The preparations being complete, and the members of each lodge garbed
and painted according to their rituals, they entered the hall
separately, in single file, led by their oldest man or "Great Chief."
Standing before the "Soldiers' Lodge," facing the setting sun, their
chief addressed the "Great Mystery" directly in a few words, after which
all extending the right arm horizontally from the shoulder with open
palm, sang a short invocation in unison, ending with a deep:
"E-ho-ho-ho!" This performance, which was really impressive, was
repeated in front of the headquarters lodge, facing the rising sun,
after which each lodge took its assigned place, and the songs and dances
followed in regular order.
The closing ceremony, which was intensely dramatic in its character,
was the initiation of the novices, who had received their final
preparation on the night before. They were now led out in front of the
headquarters lodge and placed in a kneeling position upon a carpet of
rich robes and furs, the men upon the right hand, stripped and painted
black, with a round spot of red just over the heart, while the women,
dressed in their best, were arranged upon the left. Both sexes wore the
hair loose, as if in mourning or expectation of death. An equal number
of grand medicine-men, each of whom was especially appointed to one of
the novices, faced them at a distance of half the length of the hall, or
perhaps fifty feet.
After silent prayer, each medicine-man in turn addressed himself to
his charge, exhorting him to observe all the rules of the order under
the eye of the Mysterious One, and instructing him in his duty toward
his fellow-man and toward the Ruler of Life. All then assumed an
attitude of superb power and dignity, crouching slightly as if about to
spring forward in a foot-race, and grasping their medicine bags firmly
in both hands. Swinging their arms forward at the same moment, they
uttered their guttural "Yo-ho-ho-ho!" in perfect unison and with
startling effect. In the midst of a breathless silence, they took a step
forward, then another and another, ending a rod or so from the row of
kneeling victims, with a mighty swing of the sacred bags that would seem
to project all their mystic power into the bodies of the initiates.
Instantly they all fell forward, apparently lifeless.
With this thrilling climax, the drums were vigorously pounded and the
dance began again with energy. After a few turns had been taken about
the prostrate bodies of the new members, covering them with fine robes
and other garments which were later to be distributed as gifts, they
were permitted to come to life and to join in the final dance. The whole
performance was clearly symbolic of death and resurrection.
While I cannot suppose that this elaborate ritual, with its use of
public and audible prayer, of public exhortation or sermon, and other
Caucasian features, was practiced before comparatively modern times,
there is no doubt that it was conscientiously believed in by its
members, and for a time regarded with reverence by the people. But at a
later period it became still further demoralized and fell under
suspicion of witchcraft.
There is no doubt that the Indian held medicine close to spiritual
things, but in this also he has been much misunderstood; in fact
everything that he held sacred is indiscriminately called "medicine," in
the sense of mystery or magic. As a doctor he was originally very
adroit and often successful. He employed only healing bark, roots, and
leaves with whose properties he was familiar, using them in the form of a
distillation or tea and always singly. The stomach or internal bath was
a valuable discovery of his, and the vapor or Turkish bath was in
general use. He could set a broken bone with fair success, but never
practiced surgery in any form. In addition to all this, the medicine-man
possessed much personal magnetism and authority, and in his treatment
often sought to reestablish the equilibrium of the patient through
mental or spiritual influences -- a sort of primitive psychotherapy.
The Sioux word for the healing art is "wah-pee-yah," which literally
means readjusting or making anew. "Pay-jee-hoo-tah," literally root,
means medicine, and "wakan" signifies spirit or mystery. Thus the three
ideas, while sometimes associated, were carefully distinguished.
It is important to remember that in the old days the "medicine-man"
received no payment for his services, which were of the nature of an
honorable functionn or office. When the idea of payment and barter was
introduced among us, and valuable presents or fees began to be demanded
for treating the sick, the ensuing greed and rivalry led to many
demoralizing practices, and in time to the rise of the modern
"conjurer," who is generally a fraud and trickster of the grossest kind.
It is fortunate that his day is practically over.
Ever seeking to establish spiritual comradeship with the animal
creation, the Indian adopted this or that animal as his "totem," the
emblematic device of his society, family, or clan. It is probable that
the creature chosen was the traditional ancestress, as we are told that
the First Man had many wives among the animal people. The sacred beast,
bird, or reptile, represented by its stuffed skin, or by a rude
painting, was treated with reverence and carried into battle to insure
the guardianship of the spirits. The symbolic attribute of beaver, bear,
or tortoise, such as wisdom, cunning, courage, and the like, was
supposed to be mysteriously conferred upon the wearer of the badge. The
totem or charm used in medicine was ordinarily that of the medicine
lodge to which the practitioner belonged, though there were some great
men who boasted a special revelation.
No comments:
Post a Comment