The seed of sleep. — II. p. 188.
The expression is Gower’s: Poppy, which beareth the sede of sleepe.
The Spanish name for the poppy is adormidera.
The field of the Spirit. — III. p. 196.
Every spring, the Akanceas go in a body to some retired place, and there turn up a large space of land, which they do with the drums beating all the while. After this they take care to call it the Desert, or the field of the Spirit. And thither they go in good earnest when they are in their enthusiastic fits, and there wait for inspiration from their pretended Deity. In the mean while, as they do this every year, it proves of no small advantage to them; for by this means they turn up all their land insensibly, and it becomes abundantly more fruitful. — Tonti.
Before these things, I was. — III. p. 198.
“The manner in which, he says, he obtained the spirit of divination was this: He was admitted into the presence of a Great Man, who informed him that he loved, pitied, and desired to do him good. It was not in this world that lie saw the Great Man, but in a world above. at a vast distance from this. The Great Man, he says, was clothed with the Day, yea, with the brightest Day he ever saw; a Day of many years, yea, of everlasting continuance! This whole world, he says, was drawn upon him, so that in him the Earth, and all things in it, might be seen. I asked him if rocks, mountains, and seas were drawn upon or appeared in him? he replied, that every thing that was beautiful and lovely in the earth was upon him, and might be seen by looking on him, as well as if one was on the earth to tarke a view of them there. By the side of the Great Man, he says, stood his Shadow, or Spirit; for he used chichung, the word they commonly make use of to express that of the man which survives the body, which word properly signifies a shadow. This Shadow, he says, was as lovely as the Man himself, and filled all places, and was most agreeable as well as wonderful to him. Here, he says, he tarried some time, and was unspeakably entertained and delighted with a view of the Great Man, of his Shadow, and of all things in him. And, what is most of all astonishing, he imagines all this to have passed before he was born; he never had been, he says, in this world at that time; and what confirms him in the belief of this is, that the Great Man told him that he must come down to earth, be born of such a woman, meet with such and such things, and, in particular, that he should once in his life be guilty of murder; at this he was displeased, and told the Great Man he would never murder. But the Great Man replied, I have said it, and it shall be so; which has accordingly happened. At this time, he says, the Great Manl asked him what he would choose in life; he replied, first to be a Hunter, and afterwards to be a Powwow, or Divine; whereupon the Great Mani told him he should have what he desired, and that his Shadow should go along with him down to earth, and be with him for ever. There was, he says, all this time, no word spoken between them: the conference was not carried on by any human language; but they had a kind of mental intelligence of each other’s thoughts, dispositions, and proposals. After this, he says, he saw the Great Man no more, but supposes he now came down to the earth to be born; but the Shadow of the Great Man still attended him, and ever after continued to appear to him in dreams and other ways. This Shadow used sometimes to direct him in dreams to go to such a place and hunt, assuring him he should there meet with success, which accordingly proved so; and, when he had been there some time, the Spirit would order him to another place; so that he had success in hunting, according to the Great Man’s promise, made to him at the time of his choosing this employment.
“There were some times when this Spirit came upon him in a special manner, and he was full of what he saw in the Great Man; and then, he says, he was all light, and not only light himself, but it was light all around him, so that he could see through men, and knew the thoughts of their hearts. These depths of Satan I leave to others to fathom or to dive into as they please; and do not pretend, for my own part, to know what ideas to affix to such terms, and cannot well guess what conceptions of things these creatures have at these times when they call themselves all light.” - David Berainerd’s Journal.
Had Brainerd been a Jesuit, his superiors would certainly have thought him a fit candidate for the crown of martyrdom, and worthy to be made a saint. He found one of the Indian conjurers who seemed to have something like grace in him, only he would not believe in the Devil.
“Of all the sights,” says he, “I ever saw among them, or indeed anywhere else, none appeared so frightful, or so near akin to what is usually imagined of infernal powers; none ever excited such images of terror in my mind as the appearance of one who was a devout and zealous reformer, or rather restorer, of what he supposed was the ancient religion of the Indians. He made his appearance in his pontifical garb, which: was a coat of bears skins, dressed with the hair on, and hanging down to his toes; a pair of bear-skin stockings; and a great wooden face, painted the one half black, and the other tawny, about the color of an Indian’s skin, with an extravagant mouth, cut very much awry; the face fastened to a bear-skin cap, which was drawn over his head. He advanced towards me with the instrument in his hand that he used for music in his idolatrous worship, which was a dry tortoise-shell with some corn in it, and the neck of it drawn on to a piece of wood, which made a very convenient handle. As he came forward, he beat his tune with the rattle, and danced with all his might, but did not suffer any part of his body, not so much as his fingers, to be seen; and no man would have guessed, by his appearance and actions, that he could have been a human creature, if they had not had some intimation of it otherwise. When he came near me, I could not but shrink away from him, although it was then noonday and I knew who it was, his appearance and gestures were so prodigiously frightful. He had a house consecrated to religious uses, with divers images cut out upon the several parts of it: I went in, and found the ground beat almost as hard as a rock with their frequent dancing on it. I discoursed with him about Christianity; and some of my discourse he seemed to like, but some of it he disliked entirely. He told me that God had taught him his religion, and that he never would turn from it, but wanted to find some that would join heartily with him in it; for the Indians, he said, were grown very degenerate and corrupt. He had thought, he said, of leaving all his friends, and travelling abroad, in order to find some that would join with him; for he believed God had some good people somewhere that felt as he did. He had not always, he said, felt as he now did, but had formerly been like the rest of the Indians, until about four or five years before that time; then he said his heart was very much distressed, so that he could not live among the Indians, but got away into the woods, and lived alone for some months. At length, he said, God comforted his heart, and showed him what he should do; and since that time he had known God, and tried to serve him, and loved all men, be they who they would, so as he never did before. He treated me with uncommon courtesy, and seemed to be hearty in it; and I was told by the Indians that he opposed their drinking strong liquor with all his power; and, if at any time he could not dissuade them from it by all he could say, he would leave them, and go crying into the woods. It was manifest he had a set of religious notions that he had looked into for himself, and not taken for granted upon bare tradition; and he relished or disrelished whatever was spoken of a religious nature, according as it either agreed or disagreed with his standard. And, while I was discoursing, he would sometimes say, ‘Now, that I like; so God has taught me;’ and some of his sentiments seemed very just. Yet he utterly denied the being of a Devil, and declared there was no such creature known among the Indians of old times, whose religion, he supposes, he was attempting to revive. He likewise told me that departed souls all went southward, and that the difference between the good and bad was this, that the former were admitted into a beautiful town with spiritual walls, or walls agreeable to the nature of souls; and that the latter would for ever hover round those walls, and in vain attempt to get in. He seemed to be sincere, honest, and conscientious in his own way, and according to his own religious notions, which was more than I ever saw in a
ny other pagan; and I perceived lie was looked upon and derided by most of the Indians as a precise zealot, who made a needless noise about religious matters. But, I must say, there was something in his temper and disposition that looked more like true religion than any thing I ever observed amongst other heathens.” — Brainerd.
Why should we forsake
The worship of our fathers? — III. p. 200.
Olearius mentions a very disinterested instance of that hatred of innovation which is to be found in all ignorant persons, and in some wise ones.
“An old country fellow in Livonia being condemned, for faults enormous enough, to lie along upon the ground to receive his punishment, and Madam de la Barre, pitying his almost decrepit age, having so far interceded for him as that his corporal punishment should be changed into a pecuniary mulet of about fifteen or sixteen pence, he thanked her for her kindness, and said, that for his part, being an old man, he would not introduce any novelty, nor suffer the customs of’ the country to be altered, but was ready to receive the chastisement which his predecessors had not thought much to undergo; put off his clothes, laid himself upon the ground, and received the blows according to his condemnation.” — Ambassador’s Travels. - - - her flaxen hair,
Bright eyes of heavenly hue, and that clear skin. — IV. p. 202.
A good description of Welsh beauty is given by Mr. Yorke, from one of their original chronicles, in the account of Grufydd ab Cynan and his Queen.
“Grufydd, in his person, was of moderate stature, having yellow hair, a round face, and a fair and agreeable complexion; eyes rather large, light eyebrows, a comely beard, a round neck, white skin, strong limbs, long fingers, straight legs, and handsome feet. He was, moreover, skilful in divers languages, courteous and civil to his friends, fierce to his enemies, and resolute in battle; of a passionate temper, and fertile imargination... Angharad, his wife, was an accomplished person: her hair was long, and of a flaxen color; her eyes large and rolling; and her features brilliant and beautiful. She was tall and well proportioned, her leg and foot handsome, her fingers long, and her nails thin and transparent. She was good-tempered, cheerful, discreet, witty, and gave good advice as well as alms to her needy dependants, and never transgressed the laws of duty.”
Thus let their blood be shed. — V. p. 5.
This ceremony of declaring war with firse and water is represented, by De Bry, in the eleventh print of the description of Florida, by Le Mouyne de Morgues.
The Feast of the Departed. — VI. p. 6.
Lafitau. Charlevoix.
The Council Hall. — VI. p. 6.
“The town house, in which are transacted all public business and diversions, is raised with wood and covered over with earth, and has all the appearance of a small mountain at a little distance. It is built in the form of a sugar loaf, and large enough to contain 500 persons, but extremely dark, having (besides the door, which is so narrow that bit one at a time can pass, and after much winding and turning) but one small aperture to let smoke out, which is so ill contrived that most of it settles in the roog of the house. Within it has the appearance of an ancient amphitheater, the seats being raised one above another, leaving an area in the middle, in the centre of which stands the fire: the seats of the head warriors are nearest it.” — Memoirs of Lieut. Henry Timberlake, who accompanied the Cherokee Indians to England in 1762.
The Sarbacan. - VI. p. 7.
The children, at eight or ten years old, are very expert at killing birds and smaller game with a sarbacan, or hollow cane, through which they blow a small dart, whose weakness obliges them to shoot at the eye of the larger sort of prey, which they seldom miss.” — Timberlake.
The pendent string of shells. — VI. p. 7.
“The doors of their houses and chambers were full of diverse kindes of shells, hanging loose by small cordes, that being shaken by the wind they make a certaine ratteling, and also a whisteling noise, by gathering their wind in their hollowe places; for herein they have great delight, and impute this for a goodly ornament.” — Pietro Martire.
Still do your Shadows roam dissatisfied,
And to the cries of wailing woe return
A voice of lamentation? — VI. p. 7.
“They firmly believe that the spirits of those who are killed by the enemy, without equal revenge of blood, find no rest, and at night haunt the houses of the tribe to which they belonged; but, when that kindred duty of retaliation is justly executed, they immediately get ease and power to fly away.” — Adair.”
“The answering voices heard from caves and hollow holes, which the Latines call Echo, they suppose to be the Soules wandering through those places.” — Pietro Martire. This superstition prevailed in Cumuna — they believed the Echo to be the voice of the Soul, thus answering when it was called. — Herrera, 3. 4. 11.
The word by which they express the funeral wailing in one of the Indian languages is very characteristic, — Mauo; which bewailing, says Roger Williams, is very solemn amongst them; morning and evening, and sometimes in the night, they bewail their lost-husbands, wives, children, &c.; sometimes a quarter, half, yea, a whole year and longer, if it be for a great Prince.
The skull of some old Seer. — VI. p. 8.
On the coast of Paria, oracles were thus delivered. — Torquemada, L. 6, c. 26.
Their happy souls
Pursue in fields of bliss the shadowy deer. — VI. p. 10.
This opinion of the American Indians may be illustrated by a very beautiful story from Carver’s Travels:
“Whilst I remained among them, a couple, whose tent was adjacent to mine, lost a son of about four years of age. The parents were so much affected at the death of their favorite child, that they pursued the usual testimonies of grief with such uncommon rigour, as through the weight of sorrow and loss of blood to occasion the death of the father. The woman, who had hitherto been inconsolable, no sooner saw her husband expire than she dried up her tears, and appeared cheerful and resigned. As I knew not how to account for so extraordinary a transition, I took an opportunity to ask her the reason of it; telling her, at the same time, that I should have imagined the loss of her husband would rather have occasioned an increase of grief than such a sudden diminution of it.
“She informed me, that, as the child was so young when it died, and unable to support itself in the country of spirits, both she and her husband had been apprehensive that its situation would be far from being happy; but no sooner did she behold its father depart for the same place, who not only loved the child with the tenderest affection, but was a good hunter, and would be able to provide plentifully for its support, than she ceased to mourn. She added, that she now saw no reason to continue her tears, as the child, on whom she doted, was under the care and protection of a fond father; and she had only one wish that remained ungratified, which was that of being herself with them.
“Expression so replete with unaffected tenderness, and sentiments that would have done honor to a Roman matron, made an impression on my mind greatly in favour of the people to whom she belonged, and tended not a little to counteract the prejudices I had hitherto entertained, in common with every other traveller, of Indian insensibility and want of parental tenderness. Her subsequent conduct confirmed the favorable opinion I had just imbibed, and convinced me, that, notwithstanding the apparent suspension of her grief, some particles of that reluctance to be separated from a beloved relation, which is implanted by nature or custom in every human heart, still lurked in hers. I observed that she went almost every evening to the foot of the tree, on a branch of which the bodies of her husband and child were laid, and, after cutting off a lock -of her hair and throwing it on the ground, in a plaintive melancholy song bemoaned its fate. A recapitulation of the actions he might have performed, had his life been spared, appeared to be her favorite theme; and, whilst she foretold the fame that would have attended an imitation of his father’s virtues, her grief seemed to be suspended. ‘If thou hadst continued with us, my dear son,’ w
ould she cry, ‘how well would the bow have become thy hand, and how fatal would thy arrows have proved to the enemies of our bands! Thou wouldst often have drunk their blood, and eaten their flesh; and numerous slaves would have rewarded thy toils. With a nervous arm wouldst thou have seized the wounded buffalo, or have combated the fury of the enraged bear; thou wouldst have overtaken the flying elk, and have kept pace on the mountain’s brow with the fleetest deer. What feats mightst thou not have performed, hadst thou staid among us till age had given thee strength, and thy father had instructed thee in every Indian accomplishment!’ In terms like these did this untutored savage bewail the loss of her son; and frequently would she pass the greatest part of the night in the affectionate employ.”
The spirit of that noble blood which ran
From their death-wounds is in the ruddy clouds,
Which go before the Sun when he comes forth
In glory. — VI. p. 11. Among the last comers, one Avila, a cacique, had great authority, who, understanding that Valdivia affirmed the God of the Christians was the only Creator of all things, in a great rage cried out, lie would never allow Pillan, the God of the Chilenians, to be denied the power of creating. Valdivia inquired of him concerning this imaginary deity. Avila told him that his God did, after death, translate the chief men of the nation and soldiers of known bravery to places where there was dancing and drinking, there to live happy for ever; that the blood of noble men slain in battle was placed about the sun, and changed into red clouds, which sometimes adorn his rising.” — Hist. of Paraguay, &c., by F. A. del Techo.
Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey Page 91