An Account Of The Customs And Manners Of The Micmakis And Maricheets Savage Nations, Now Dependent On The Government Of Cape Breton by Antoine Simon Maillard
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Antoine Simon Maillard >> An Account Of The Customs And Manners Of The Micmakis And Maricheets Savage Nations, Now Dependent On The Government Of Cape Breton
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6 AN
ACCOUNT
OF THE
CUSTOMS and MANNERS
OF THE
MICMAKIS and MARICHEETS
SAVAGE NATIONS,
Now Dependent on the
Government of CAPE-BRETON.
FROM
An Original French Manuscript-Letter,
Never Published,
Written by a French Abbot,
Who resided many Years, in quality of Missionary, amongst them.
To which are annexed,
Several Pieces, relative to the Savages, to Nova
Scotia, and to North-America in general.
* * * * *
LONDON:
Printed for S. Hooper and A. Morley at Gay's-Head,
near Beaufort-Buildings in the Strand. MDCCLVIII.
PREFACE.
For the better understanding of the letter immediately following, it may
not be unnecessary to give the reader some previous idea of the people
who are the subject of it, as well of the letter-writer.
The best account of the _Mickmakis_ I could find, and certainly the most
authentic, is in a memorial furnished by the French ministry in April,
1751, from which the following paragraph is a translated extract:
"The government of the savages dependent on Cape-Breton exacts a
particular attention. All these savages go under the name of
_Mickmakis_. Before the last war they could raise about six hundred
fighting-men, according to an account given in to his most Christian
majesty, and were distributed in several villages established on
Cape-Breton island, island of St. John, on both the coasts of Acadia
(Nova-Scotia) and on that of Canada. All, or most of the inhabitants of
these villages have been instructed in the Christian religion, by
missionaries which the king of France constantly maintains amongst them.
It is customary to distribute every year to them presents, in the name
of his majesty, which consist in arms, ammunition of war, victuals,
cloathing, and utensils of various sorts. And these presents are
regulated according to the circumstances of the time, and to the
satisfaction that shall have been given to the government by the conduct
of these savages. In the last war they behaved so as to deserve our
approbation, and indeed have, on all occasions, given marks of their
attachment and fidelity. Since the peace too, they have equally
distinguished themselves in the disturbances that are on foot on the
side of Acadia (Nova-Scotia)."
The last part of this foregoing paragraph needs no comment. Every one
knows by what sort of service these savages merit the encouragement of
the French government, and by what acts of perfidy and cruelty exercised
on the English, they are to earn their reward.
The _Maricheets_, mentioned in the said letter form a distinct nation,
chiefly settled at St. John's, and are often confounded with the
_Abenaquis_, so as to pass for one nation with them, though there is
certainly some distinction. They used, till lately, to be in a constant
state of hostility with the Mickmakis. But, however, these nations may
be at peace or variance with one another, in one point they agree, which
is a thorough enmity to the English, cultivated, with great application
by the missionaries, who add to the scandal of a conduct so contrary to
their profession, the baseness of denying or evading the charge by the
most pitiful equivocations. It is with the words peace, charity, and
universal benevolence, for ever in their mouths, that these
incendiaries, by instigations direct and indirect, inflame and excite
the savages to commit the cruellest outrages of war, and the blackest
acts of treachery. Poor Captain How! is well known to have paid with his
life, infamously taken away by them, at a parley, the influence one of
these missionaries (now a prisoner in the island of Jersey,) had over
these misguided wretches, whose native innocence and simplicity are not
proof against the corruption, and artful suggestions of those holy
seducers.
It would not, perhaps, be impossible for the English, if they were to
apply proper means, and especially lenient ones, to recover the
affections of these people, which, for many reasons, cannot be entirely
rooted in the French interest. That great state-engine of theirs,
religion, by which they have so strong a hold on the weak and credulous
savages, might not, however, be an invincible bar to our success, if it
was duly counter-worked by the offer of a much more pure and rational
one of our own, joined to such temporal advantages as would shew them
their situation capable of being much meliorated, in every respect; and
especially that of freedom, which they cannot but be sensible, is daily
decreasing under the insidious encroachments and blandishments of the
French, who never cares but to enslave, nor hug but to stifle, whose
pretences, in short, to superior humanity and politeness, are not
amongst their least arts of conquest.
As to the letter-writer, he is an abbot much respected in those parts,
who has resided the greatest part of his life amongst the Mickmakis, and
is perfectly acquainted with their language, in the composing of a
Dictionary of which he has labored eighteen or twenty years; but I
cannot learn that it is yet published, and probably for reasons of
state, it never may. The letter, of which the translation is now given,
exists only in a manuscript, having never been printed, being entirely
written for the satisfaction of a friend's curiosity, in relation to the
original manners and customs of the people of which it treats, and
which, being those of savages in the primitive state of unpolished
nature, may perhaps, to a philosophical enquirer, afford more amusement
and instruction than those of the most refined societies. What man
really is, appears at least plainer in the uncultivated savage, than in
the civilized European.
The account of Acadia (Nova-Scotia) will, it is to be hoped, appear not
uncurious; allowance being made for its being only in form of a letter.
A
LETTER, &c.
_Micmaki-Country_, March 27, 1755.
SIR,
I should long before now have satisfied you in those points of curiosity
you expressed, concerning the savages amongst whom I have so long
resided, if I could have found leisure for it. Literally true it is,
that I have no spare time here, unless just in the evening, and that not
always. This was my case too in Louisbourg; and I do not doubt but you
will be surprised at learning, that I enjoy as little rest here as
there.
Had you done me, Sir, the honor of passing with me but three days only,
you would soon have seen what sort of a nation it is that I have to deal
with. I am obliged to hold frequent and long parleys with them, and, at
every occasion, to heap upon them the most fair and flattering promises.
I must incessantly excite them to the practice of acts of religion, and
labor to render them tractable, sociable, and loyal to the king (of
France). But especially, I apply myself to make them live in good
understanding with the French.
With all this, I affect a grave and serious air, that awes and imposes
upon them. I even take care of observing measure and cadence in the
delivery of my words, and to make choice of those expressions the
properest to strike their attention, and to hinder what I say from
falling to the ground. If I cannot boast that my harangues have all the
fruit and success that I could wish, they are not however wholly without
effect. As nothing inchants those people more than a style of metaphors
and allegories, in which even their common conversation abounds, I adapt
myself to their taste, and never please them better than when I give
what I say this turn, speaking to them in their own language. I borrow
the most lively images from those objects of nature, with which they are
so well acquainted; and am rather more regular than even themselves, in
the arrangement of my phrases. I affect, above all, to rhime as they do,
especially at each member of a period. This contributes to give them so
great an idea of me, that they imagine this gift of speaking is rather
an inspiration, than an acquisition by study and meditation. In truth, I
may venture to say, without presumption, that I talk the _Micmaki_
language as fluently, and as elegantly, as the best of their women, who
most excel in this point.
Another of my occupations is to engage and spur them on to the making a
copious chace, when the hunting-season comes in, that their debts to the
dealers with them may be paid, their wives and children cloathed, and
their credit supported.
It is neither gaming nor debauchery that disable them from the payment
of their debts, but their vanity, which is excessive, in the presents of
peltry they make to other savages, who come either in quality of envoys
from one country to another, or as friends or relations upon a visit to
one another. Then it is, that a village is sure to exhaust itself in
presents; it being a standing rule with them, on the arrival of such
persons, to bring out every thing that they have acquired, during the
winter and spring season, in order to give the best and most
advantageous idea of themselves. Then it is chiefly they make feasts,
which sometimes last several days; of the manner of which I should
perhaps spare you the description, if the ceremony that attends them did
not include the strongest attestation of the great stress they lay on
hunting; the excelling wherein they commonly take for their text in
their panegyrics on these occasions, and consequently enters, for a
great deal, into the idea you are to conceive of the life and manners of
the savages in these parts.
The first thing I am to observe to you is, that one of the greatest
dainties, and with which they crown their entertainments, is the flesh
of dogs. For it is not till the envoys, friends, or relations, are on
the point of departure, that, on the eve of that day, they make a
considerable slaughter of dogs, which they slea, draw, and, with no
other dressing, put whole into the kettle; from whence they take them
half boiled, and carve out into as many pieces as there are guests to
eat of them, in the cabbin of him who gives the treat. But every one,
before entering the cabbin, takes care to bring with him his _Oorakin_,
or bowl, made of bark of birch-tree, either polygone shaped, or quite
round; and this is practised at all their entertainments. These pieces
of dogs flesh are accompanied with a small _Oorakin_ full of the oil or
fat of seal, or of elk's grease, if this feast is given at the
melting-time of the snow. Every one has his own dish before him, in
which he sops his flesh before he eats it. If the fat be hard, he cuts a
small piece of it to every bit of flesh he puts into his mouth, which
serves as bread with us. At the end of this fine regale, they drink as
much of the oil as they can, and wipe their hands on their hair. Then
come in the wives of the master and persons invited, who carry off their
husbands plates, and retire together to a separate place, where they
dispatch the remains.
After grace being said by the oldest of the company, who also never
fails of pronouncing it before the meal, the master of the treat appears
as if buried in a profound contemplation, without speaking a word, for a
full quarter of an hour; after which, waking as it were out of a deep
sleep, he orders in the _Calumets_, or _Indian_ pipes, with tobacco.
First he fills his own, lights it, and, after sucking in two or three
whiffs, he presents it to the most considerable man in the company:
after which, every one fills his pipe and smoaks.
The calumets lighted, and the tobacco burning with a clear fire, are
scarce half smoked out, before the man of note before mentioned (for the
greatest honors being paid him) gets up, places himself in the midst of
the cabbin, and pronounces a speech of thanksgiving. He praises the
master of the feast, who has so well regaled him and all the company. He
compares him to a tree, whose large and strong roots afford nourishment
to a number of small shrubs; or to a salutary medicinal herb, found
accidentally by such as frequent the lakes in their canoes. Some I have
heard, who, in their winter-feasts, compared him to the turpentine-tree,
that never fails of yielding its sap and gummy distillation in all
seasons: others to those temperate and mild days, which are sometimes
seen in the midst of the severest winter. They employ a thousand
similies of this sort, which I omit. After this introduction, they
proceed to make honorable mention of the lineage from which the matter
of the feast is descended.
"How great (will the oldest of them say) art thou, through thy great,
great, great grand-father, whose memory is still recent, by tradition,
amongst us, for the plentiful huntings he used to make! There was
something of miraculous about him, when he assisted at the beating of
the woods for elks, or other beasts of the fur. His dexterity at
catching this game was not superior to our's; but there was some
unaccountable secret he particularly possessed in his manner of seizing
those creatures, by springing upon them, laying hold of their heads, and
transfixing them at the same time with his hunting-spear, though thrice
as strong and as nimble again as he was, and much more capable with
their legs only, than we with our rackets [a sort of buskined shoes made
purposely for the Indian travels over the snow], to make their way over
mountains of snow: he would nevertheless follow them, dart them, without
ever missing his aim, tire them out with his chace, bring them down, and
mortally wound them. Then he would regale us with their blood, skin
them, and deliver up the carcass to us to cut to pieces. But if thy
great, great, great grand-father made such a figure in the chace, what
has not thy great, great grand-father done with respect to the beavers,
those animals almost men? whose industry he surpassed by his frequent
watchings round their cabbins, by the repeated alarms he would give them
several times in one evening, and oblige them thereby to return home, so
that he might be sure of the number of those animals he had seen
dispersed during the day, having a particular foresight of the spot to
which they would come to load their tails with earth, cut down with
their teeth such and such trees for the construction of their huts. He
had a particular gift of knowing the favorite places of those animals
for building them. But now let us rather speak of your great
grand-father, who was so expert at making of snares for moose-deer,
martins, and elks. He had particular secrets, absolutely unknown to any
but himself, to compel these sort of creatures to run sooner into his
snares than those of others; and he was accordingly always so well
provided with furs, that he was never at a loss to oblige his friends.
Now let us come to your grand-father, who has a thousand and a thousand
times regaled the youth of his time with seals. How often in our young
days have we greased our hair in his cabbin? How often have we been
invited, and even compelled by his friendly violence, to go home with
him, whenever we returned with our canoes empty, to be treated with
seal, to drink the oil, and anoint ourselves with it? He even pushed his
generosity so far, as to give us of the oil to take home with us. But
now we are come to your father: there was a man for you! He used to
signalize himself in every branch of chace; but especially in the art of
shooting the game whether flying or sitting. He never missed his aim. He
was particularly admirable for decoying of bustards by his artificial
imitations. We are all of us tolerably expert at counterfeiting the cry
of those birds; but as to him, he surpassed us in certain inflexions, of
his voice, that made it impossible to distinguish his cry from that of
the birds themselves. He had, besides, a particular way of motion with
his body, that at a distance might be taken for the clapping of their
wings, insomuch that he has often deceived ourselves, and put us to
confusion, as he started out of his hiding-place.
"As for thyself, I say nothing, I am too full of the good things thou
hast feasted me with, to treat on that subject; but I thank thee, and
take thee by the hand, leaving to my fellow-guests the care of
acquitting themselves of that duty."
After this, he sits down, and some other younger, and in course of less
note, for they pay great respect to age, gets up, and makes a summary
recapitulation of what the first speaker has said; commending his manner
of singing the praises of the master of the feast's ancestors: to which
he observes, there is nothing to be added; but that he has, however,
left him one part of the task to be accomplished, which is, not to pass
over in silence the feast to which he and the rest of his brethren are
invited; neither to omit the merit and praises of him who has given the
entertainment. Then quitting his place, and advancing in cadence, he
takes the master of the treat by the hand, saying, "All the praises my
tongue is about to utter, have thee for their object. All the steps I am
going to take, as I dance lengthwise and breadthwise in thy cabbin, are
to prove to thee the gaiety of my heart, and my gratitude. Courage! my
friends, keep time with your motions and voice, to my song and dance."
With this he begins, and proceeds in his _Netchkawet_, that is,
advancing with his body strait erect, in measured steps, with his arms
a-kimbo. Then he delivers his words, singing and trembling with his
whole body, looking before and on each side of him with a steady
countenance, sometimes moving with a slow grave pace, then again with a
quick and brisk one.
The syllables he articulates the most distinctly are, _Ywhannah, Owanna,
Haywanna, yo! ha! yo! ha!_ and when he makes a pause he looks full at
the company, as much as to demand their chorus to the word _Heh!_ which
he pronounces with great emphasis. As he is singing and dancing they
often repeat the word _Heh!_ fetched up from the depth of their throat;
and when he makes his pause, they cry aloud in chorus, _Hah!_
After this prelude, the person who had sung and danced recovers his
breath and spirits a little, and begins his harangue in praise of the
maker of the feast. He flatters him greatly, in attributing to him a
thousand good qualities he never had, and appeals to all the company for
the truth of what he says, who are sure not to contradict him, being in
the same circumstance as himself of being treated, and answer him by the
word _Heh_, which is as much as to say, _Yes_, or _Surely_. Then he
takes them all by the hand, and begins his dance again: and sometimes
this first dance is carried to a pitch of madness. At the end of it he
kisses his hand, by way of salute to all the company; after which he
goes quietly to his place again. Then another gets up to acquit himself
of the same duty, and so do successively all the others in the cabbin,
to the very last man inclusively.
This ceremony of thanksgiving being over by the men, the girls and women
come in, with the oldest at the head of them, who carries in her left
hand a great piece of birch-bark of the hardest, upon which she strikes
as it were a drum; and to that dull sound which the bark returns, they
all dance, spinning round on their heels, quivering, with one hand
lifted, the other down: other notes they have none, but a guttural loud
aspiration of the word Heh! Heh! Heh! as often as the old female savage
strikes her bark-drum. As soon as she ceases striking, they set up a
general cry, expressed by Yah! Then, if their dance is approved, they
begin it again; and when weariness obliges the old woman to withdraw,
she first pronounces her thanksgiving in the name of all the girls and
women there. The introduction of which is too curious to omit, as it so
strongly characterises the sentiments of the savages of that sex, and
confirms the general observation, that where their bosom once harbours
cruelty, they carry it greater lengths than even the men, whom
frequently they instigate to it.
"You men! who look on me as of an infirm and weak sex, and consequently
of all necessity subordinate to you, know that in what I am, the Creator
has given to my share, talents and properties at least of as much worth
as your's, I have had the faculty of bringing into the world warriors,
great hunters, and admirable managers of canoes. This hand, withered as
you see it now, whose veins represent the root of a tree, has more than
once struck a knife into the hearts of the prisoners, who were given up
to me for my sport. Let the river-sides, I say, for I call them to
witness for me, as well as the woods of such a country, attest their
having seen me more than once tear out the heart, entrails, and tongue,
of those delivered up to me, without changing color, roast pieces of
their flesh, yet palpitating and warm with life, and cram them down the
throats of others, whom the like fate awaited. With how many scalps have
not I seen my head adorned, as well as those of my daughters! With what
pathetic exhortations have not I, upon occasion, rouzed up the spirit of
our young men, to go in quest of the like trophies, that they might
atchieve the reward, honor, and renown annexed to the acquisition of
them: but it is not in these points alone that I have signalized myself.
I have often brought about alliances, which there was no room to think
could ever be made; and I have been so fortunate, that all the couples
whose marriages I have procured, have been prolific, and furnished our
nation with supports, defenders, and subjects, to eternize our race, and
to protect us from the insults of our enemies. These old firs, these
antient spruce-trees, full of knots from the top to the root, whose bark
is falling off with age, and who yet preserve their gum and powers of
life, do not amiss resemble me. I am no longer what I was; all my skin
is wrinkled and furrowed, my bones are almost every where starting
through it. As to my outward form, I may well be reckoned amongst the
things, fit for nothing but to be totally neglected and thrown aside;
but I have still within me wherewithal to attract the attention of those
who know me."
After this introduction follow the thanksgiving and encomiums, much in
the same taste as the first haranguer's amongst the guests. This is what
is practised in all the more solemn entertainments, both on the men and
women's side. Nor can you imagine, how great an influence such praises
have over them, derived as they are from the merit of hunting, and how
greatly they contribute to inflame their passion for it. Nor is it
surprising, considering how much almost the whole of their livelihood
depends upon the game of all sorts that is the object of their chace.
They have also a kind of feasts, which may be termed war-feasts, since
they are never held but in time of war, declared, commenced, or
resolved. The forms of these are far different from those of pacific and
friendly entertainments. There is a mixture of devotion and ferocity in
them, which at the same time that it surprises, proves that they
consider war in a very solemn light, and as not to be begun without the
greatest reason and justice; which motives, once established, or, which
is the same thing, appearing to them established, there is nothing they
do not think themselves permitted against their enemy, from whom they,
on the other hand, expect no better quarter than they themselves give.
To give you an idea of their preparatory ceremony for a declaration of
war, I shall here select for you a recent example, in the one that broke
out not long ago between the Micmaquis, and Maricheets. These last had
put a cruel affront on the former, the nature of which you will see in
the course of the following description: but I shall call the Micmaquis
the aggressors, because the first acts of hostility in the field began
from them. Those who mean to begin the war, detach a certain number of
men to make incursions on the territories of their enemies, to ravage
the country, to destroy the game on it, and ruin all the beaver-huts
they can find on their rivers and lakes, whether entirely, or only
half-built. From this expedition they return laden with game and peltry;
upon which the whole nation assembles to feast on the meat, in a manner
that has more of the carnivorous brute in it than of the human creature.
Whilst they are eating, or rather devouring, all of them, young and old,
great and little, engage themselves by the sun, the moon, and the name
of their ancestors, to do as much by the enemy-nation.
When they have taken care to bring off with them a live beast, from the
quarter in which they have committed their ravage, they cut its throat,
drink its blood, and even the boys with their teeth tear the heart and
entrails to pieces, which they ravenously devour, giving thereby to
understand, that those of the enemies who shall fall into their hands,
have no better treatment to expect at them.
After this they bring out _Oorakins_, (bowls of bark) full of that
coarse vermillion which is found along the coast of Chibucto, and on the
west-side of Acadia (Nova-Scotia) which they moisten with the blood of
the animal if any remains, and add water to compleat the dilution. Then
the old, as well as the young, smear their faces, belly and back with
this curious paint; after which they trim their hair shorter, some of
one side of the head, some of the other; some leave only a small tuft on
the crown of their head; others cut their hair entirely off on the left
or right side of it; some again leave nothing on it but a lock, just on
the top of their forehead, and of the breadth of it, that falls back on
the nape of the neck. Some of them bore their ears, and pass through the
holes thus made in them, the finest fibril-roots of the fir, which they
call _Toobee_, and commonly use for thread; but on this occasion serve
to string certain small shells. This military masquerade, which they use
at once for terror and disguise, being compleated, all the peltry of the
beasts killed in the enemy's country, is piled in a heap; the oldest
_Sagamo_, or chieftain of the assembly gets up, and asks, "What weather
it is? Is the sky clear? Does the sun shine?" On being answered in the
affirmative, he orders the young men to carry the pile of peltry to a
rising-ground, or eminence, at some little distance from the cabbin, or
place of assembly. As this is instantly done, he follows them, and as he
walks along begins, and continues his address to the sun in the
following terms:
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