Pre-natal Influence. Early Religious Teaching. The
Function of the Aged. Woman, Marriage and the Family.
Loyalty, Hospitality, Friendship.
The American Indian was an individualist in religion as in war. He had
neither a national army nor an organized church. There was no priest to
assume responsibility for another's soul. That is, we believed, the
supreme duty of the parent, who only was permitted to claim in some degree
the priestly office and function, since it is his creative and protecting
power which alone approaches the solemn function of Deity.
The Indian was a religious man from his mother's womb. From the moment of
her recognition of the fact of conception to the end of the second year of
life, which was the ordinary duration of lactation, it was supposed by us
that the mother's spiritual influence counted for most. Her attitude and
secret meditations must be such as to instill into the receptive soul of
the unborn child the love of the "Great Mystery" and a sense of
brotherhood with all creation. Silence and isolation are the rule of life
for the expectant mother. She wanders prayerful in the stillness of great
woods, or on the bosom of the untrodden prairie, and to her poetic mind
the immanent birth of her child prefigures the advent of a master-man—a
hero, or the mother of heroes—a thought conceived in the virgin
breast of primeval nature, and dreamed out in a hush that is only broken
by the sighing of the pine tree or the thrilling orchestra of a distant
And when the day of days in her life dawns—the day in which there is
to be a new life, the miracle of whose making has been intrusted to her,
she seeks no human aid. She has been trained and prepared in body and mind
for this her holiest duty, ever since she can remember. The ordeal is best
met alone, where no curious or pitying eyes embarrass her; where all
nature says to her spirit: "'Tis love! 'tis love! the fulfilling of life!"
When a sacred voice comes to her out of the silence, and a pair of eyes
open upon her in the wilderness, she knows with joy that she has borne
well her part in the great song of creation!
Presently she returns to the camp, carrying the mysterious, the holy, the
dearest bundle! She feels the endearing warmth of it and hears its soft
breathing. It is still a part of herself, since both are nourished by the
same mouthful, and no look of a lover could be sweeter than its deep,
She continues her spiritual teaching, at first silently—a mere
pointing of the index finger to nature; then in whispered songs,
bird-like, at morning and evening. To her and to the child the birds are
real people, who live very close to the "Great Mystery"; the murmuring
trees breathe His presence; the falling waters chant His praise.
If the child should chance to be fretful, the mother raises her hand.
"Hush! hush!" she cautions it tenderly, "the spirits may be disturbed!"
She bids it be still and listen—listen to the silver voice of the
aspen, or the clashing cymbals of the birch; and at night she points to
the heavenly, blazed trail, through nature's galaxy of splendor to
nature's God. Silence, love, reverence,—this is the trinity of first
lessons; and to these she later adds generosity, courage, and chastity.
In the old days, our mothers were single-eyed to the trust imposed upon
them; and as a noted chief of our people was wont to say: "Men may slay
one another, but they can never overcome the woman, for in the quietude of
her lap lies the child! You may destroy him once and again, but he issues
as often from that same gentle lap—a gift of the Great Good to the
race, in which man is only an accomplice!"
This wild mother has not only the experience of her mother and
grandmother, and the accepted rules of her people for a guide, but she
humbly seeks to learn a lesson from ants, bees, spiders, beavers, and
badgers. She studies the family life of the birds, so exquisite in its
emotional intensity and its patient devotion, until she seems to feel the
universal mother-heart beating in her own breast. In due time the child
takes of his own accord the attitude of prayer, and speaks reverently of
the Powers. He thinks that he is a blood brother to all living creatures,
and the storm wind is to him a messenger of the "Great Mystery."
At the age of about eight years, if he is a boy, she turns him over to his
father for more Spartan training. If a girl, she is from this time much
under the guardianship of her grandmother, who is considered the most
dignified protector for the maiden. Indeed, the distinctive work of both
grandparents is that of acquainting the youth with the national traditions
and beliefs. It is reserved for them to repeat the time-hallowed tales
with dignity and authority, so as to lead him into his inheritance in the
stored-up wisdom and experience of the race. The old are dedicated to the
service of the young, as their teachers and advisers, and the young in
turn regard them with love and reverence.
Our old age was in some respects the happiest period of life. Advancing
years brought with them much freedom, not only from the burden of
laborious and dangerous tasks, but from those restrictions of custom and
etiquette which were religiously observed by all others. No one who is at
all acquainted with the Indian in his home can deny that we are a polite
people. As a rule, the warrior who inspired the greatest terror in the
hearts of his enemies was a man of the most exemplary gentleness, and
almost feminine refinement, among his family and friends. A soft, low
voice was considered an excellent thing in man, as well as in woman!
Indeed, the enforced intimacy of tent life would soon become intolerable,
were it not for these instinctive reserves and delicacies, this unfailing
respect for the established place and possessions of every other member of
the family circle, this habitual quiet, order, and decorum.
Our people, though capable of strong and durable feeling, were not
demonstrative in their affection at any time, least of all in the presence
of guests or strangers. Only to the aged, who have journeyed far, and are
in a manner exempt from ordinary rules, are permitted some playful
familiarities with children and grandchildren, some plain speaking, even
to harshness and objurgation, from which the others must rigidly refrain.
In short, the old men and women are privileged to say what they please and
how they please, without contradiction, while the hardships and bodily
infirmities that of necessity fall to their lot are softened so far as may
be by universal consideration and attention.
There was no religious ceremony connected with marriage among us, while on
the other hand the relation between man and woman was regarded as in
itself mysterious and holy. It appears that where marriage is solemnized
by the church and blessed by the priest, it may at the same time be
surrounded with customs and ideas of a frivolous, superficial, and even
prurient character. We believed that two who love should be united in
secret, before the public acknowledgment of their union, and should taste
their apotheosis alone with nature. The betrothal might or might not be
discussed and approved by the parents, but in either case it was customary
for the young pair to disappear into the wilderness, there to pass some
days or weeks in perfect seclusion and dual solitude, afterward returning
to the village as man and wife. An exchange of presents and entertainments
between the two families usually followed, but the nuptial blessing was
given by the High Priest of God, the most reverend and holy Nature.
The family was not only the social unit, but also the unit of government.
The clan is nothing more than a larger family, with its patriarchal chief
as the natural head, and the union of several clans by intermarriage and
voluntary connection constitutes the tribe. The very name of our tribe,
Dakota, means Allied People. The remoter degrees of kinship were fully
recognized, and that not as a matter of form only: first cousins were
known as brothers and sisters; the name of "cousin" constituted a binding
claim, and our rigid morality forbade marriage between cousins in any
known degree, or in other words within the clan.
The household proper consisted of a man with one or more wives and their
children, all of whom dwelt amicably together, often under one roof,
although some men of rank and position provided a separate lodge for each
wife. There were, indeed, few plural marriages except among the older and
leading men, and plural wives were usually, though not necessarily,
sisters. A marriage might honorably be dissolved for cause, but there was
very little infidelity or immorality, either open or secret.
It has been said that the position of woman is the test of civilization,
and that of our women was secure. In them was vested our standard of
morals and the purity of our blood. The wife did not take the name of her
husband nor enter his clan, and the children belonged to the clan of the
mother. All of the family property was held by her, descent was traced in
the maternal line, and the honor of the house was in her hands. Modesty
was her chief adornment; hence the younger women were usually silent and
retiring: but a woman who had attained to ripeness of years and wisdom, or
who had displayed notable courage in some emergency, was sometimes invited
to a seat in the council.
Thus she ruled undisputed within her own domain, and was to us a tower of
moral and spiritual strength, until the coming of the border white man,
the soldier and trader, who with strong drink overthrew the honor of the
man, and through his power over a worthless husband purchased the virtue
of his wife or his daughter. When she fell, the whole race fell with her.
Before this calamity came upon us, you could not find anywhere a happier
home than that created by the Indian woman. There was nothing of the
artificial about her person, and very little disingenuousness in her
character. Her early and consistent training, the definiteness of her
vocation, and, above all, her profoundly religious attitude gave her a
strength and poise that could not be overcome by any ordinary misfortune.
Indian names were either characteristic nicknames given in a playful
spirit, deed names, birth names, or such as have a religious and symbolic
meaning. It has been said that when a child is born, some accident or
unusual appearance determines his name. This is sometimes the case, but is
not the rule. A man of forcible character, with a fine war record, usually
bears the name of the buffalo or bear, lightning or some dread natural
force. Another of more peaceful nature may be called Swift Bird or Blue
Sky. A woman's name usually suggested something about the home, often with
the adjective "pretty" or "good," and a feminine termination. Names of any
dignity or importance must be conferred by the old men, and especially so
if they have any spiritual significance; as Sacred Cloud, Mysterious
Night, Spirit Woman, and the like. Such a name was sometimes borne by
three generations, but each individual must prove that he is worthy of it.
In the life of the Indian there was only one inevitable duty,—the
duty of prayer—the daily recognition of the Unseen and Eternal. His
daily devotions were more necessary to him than daily food. He wakes at
daybreak, puts on his moccasins and steps down to the water's edge. Here
he throws handfuls of clear, cold water into his face, or plunges in
bodily. After the bath, he stands erect before the advancing dawn, facing
the sun as it dances upon the horizon, and offers his unspoken orison. His
mate may precede or follow him in his devotions, but never accompanies
him. Each soul must meet the morning sun, the new, sweet earth, and the
Great Silence alone!
Whenever, in the course of the daily hunt, the red hunter comes upon a
scene that is strikingly beautiful or sublime—a black thundercloud
with the rainbow's glowing arch above the mountain; a white waterfall in
the heart of a green gorge; a vast prairie tinged with the blood-red of
sunset—he pauses for an instant in the attitude of worship. He sees
no need for setting apart one day in seven as a holy day, since to him all
days are God's.
Every act of his life is, in a very real sense, a religious act. He
recognizes the spirit in all creation, and believes that he draws from it
spiritual power. His respect for the immortal part of the animal, his
brother, often leads him so far as to lay out the body of his game in
state and decorate the head with symbolic paint or feathers. Then he
stands before it in the prayer attitude, holding up the filled pipe, in
token that he has freed with honor the spirit of his brother, whose body
his need compelled him to take to sustain his own life.
When food is taken, the woman murmurs a "grace" as she lowers the kettle;
an act so softly and unobtrusively performed that one who does not know
the custom usually fails to catch the whisper: "Spirit, partake!" As her
husband receives the bowl or plate, he likewise murmurs his invocation to
the spirit. When he becomes an old man, he loves to make a notable effort
to prove his gratitude. He cuts off the choicest morsel of the meat and
casts it into the fire—the purest and most ethereal element.
The hospitality of the wigwam is only limited by the institution of war.
Yet, if an enemy should honor us with a call, his trust will not be
misplaced, and he will go away convinced that he has met with a royal
host! Our honor is the guarantee for his safety, so long as he is within
Friendship is held to be the severest test of character. It is easy, we
think, to be loyal to family and clan, whose blood is in our own veins.
Love between man and woman is founded on the mating instinct and is not
free from desire and self-seeking. But to have a friend, and to be true
under any and all trials, is the mark of a man!
The highest type of friendship is the relation of "brother-friend" or
"life-and-death friend." This bond is between man and man, is usually
formed in early youth, and can only be broken by death. It is the essence
of comradeship and fraternal love, without thought of pleasure or gain,
but rather for moral support and inspiration. Each is vowed to die for the
other, if need be, and nothing is denied the brother-friend, but neither
is anything required that is not in accord with the highest conceptions of
the Indian mind.