15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21.
15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21.
15. Ne-ah-we-na, ne-ah-we-na, waw-bun-dum-mo a-zhe-nah-gwuk ne-ah-we-na.
Myself, myself, behold me, and see that I look like myself.
This is some great medicine man, probably the author of the song, who shows himself to the people.
16. Che-be-gau-ze-naung gwit-to-i-ah-na maun-dah-ween ah-kee-ge neen-wa-nah gua-kwaik ke-nah gwit-to-i-ah-na.
I come to change the appearance of the ground, this ground; I make it look different in each season.
This is a Manito, who, on account of his immensity of tail, and other peculiarities, has no prototype. He claims to be the ruler over the seasons. He is probably Gitche-a-nah-mi-e-be-zhew, (great under-ground wild cat.)
17. Ka-whaw-bum-me-ta he-ah ne-haun-na che-mo-ke ah-na he-ah ne-haun-na.
You may see me, my friends; I have risen, my friends.
This is the Manito of the ground, who puts only his head above the surface to speak; but in this figure his horns are omitted, perhaps by mistake.
18. Muk-ko-we-tah-wa neen-dah-nees-sah e-kwuh-e-tah-wa.
Were he a bear, I could kill him, were he a louse.
Thus aided by the Manito of the seasons, or of the weather, and by him of the ground, as is expressed by the two preceding figures, the hunter says he could find and kill whatever was a bear, though it were no bigger than a louse. The figure is that of a bear, with a louse on it.
19. O-ta-nuh we-yo che-mahn-duk o-ta-nuh-we-yo.
His tongue, a bear, his tongue.
The tongue, like the heart and blood in the other song, is now to be kept from the profane touch of a woman or a dog.
20. Man-i-to uh-we-she-nah-na io-kun-na man-i-to we-she-nah-na.
A spirit is what I use; a spirit do thou use.
The speaker, in this instance, is Na-na-bush, who gave mankind an arrow; that is, all those arms which give man dominion over the brutes. He used these things before us, and we must use them agreeably to his instruction and example.
21. We-ah-hah muk-ko-we-e-tah yah nah-mah kummig, ain-dah-zheesh she-no-gwain muh-ko-we-tah.
Although it were a bear concealed under the ground, I could find him.
Thus aided by the Manitoag, and armed with the weapons of Na-na-bush, what animal shall be able to escape from the hunter?
Fig. 1. 2. 3. 4.
Fig. 1. 2. 3. 4.
Fig. 1. Neen-nah-hah ah-ne-an-do-gwain ga-no-zei wain-je man-i-to whe-gwain, we-hi-yah, we-he-ya!
What I know not makes gano-zhe (the long moon) Manito.
One of the winter moons, commonly called Gitche-manito-o-gee-zis, (the Great Spirit’s moon,) which corresponds to our month January, is considered particularly favourable for hunting. Children born in that month are reckoned long lived.
2. He-ah neen-gwi-o-ho o-ho man-i-to-we-tah-hah gah-neen-gwi-o we-i-ah-nah we-he-a!
My painting, that makes me a Manito.
One of the particular kinds of medicine to be used with this song, is mixed with o-num-un, and used in painting the face. The Indians attribute to it the greatest efficacy in giving immediate success; but many of them fear to use it, from a belief that it will have an injurious effect on them after death. A man who has used it will, they say, in the country to which we go after death, have no flesh upon those parts of his face where the medicine has touched. It is rare to observe, among the Indians, any ideas which would lead to the belief, that they look upon a future state as one of retribution. The innocent are those who fail to reach the villages of the dead; and the unfortunate are those who, when they arrive there, are distinguished from others, by being compelled to dance on their heads. As mightbe expected from a people in such profound ignorance, it is not to those actions which are pernicious to happiness, and the true well being of the society, or the individual here, that the idea of future punishment is attached.
3. (The words belonging to this figure are lost. He seems to be beating the Me-tig-waw-keek, or metai drum, and is doubtless boasting of his great medicine.)
4. Yah-hah-ween-gah we-ah-hah ye-hi-ah-yah we-he-a? yah-hah o-ge-mah-waw goan-dum-mo-nah o-ge-mah-waw.
I am able to make a chief swallow an arrow.
This has allusion to the thrusting of arrows, and similar instruments, into the stomach, by the medicine men. The words are put, perhaps, into the mouth of the medicine. Tricks of this kind are often exhibited in the Metai, as well as several miserable sleight of hand tricks, which all the initiated, at least, seem willing to look upon as miracles. A common performance is that of suffering one’s self to be shot at with a marked bullet, which had previously been shown to all the persons sitting in the lodge. The medicine man stands at one end of the lodge, with a small wooden bowl in his hand, and his companion, after having exhibited the bullet, loads the gun in the sight of all present; then dancing and singing backwards and forwards, discharges the piece, apparently at the head, but taking particular care not to hit him. As soon as the smoke is dispersed, the one who had stood to receive the fire is seen with a ball in his dish, marked accurately like the one which had been put in the gun. With this he dances, exulting and shouting, three or four times around the lodge. Other tricks are played with little puppets of wood and feathers moved by strings, but kept concealed in sacks, or otherwise. Many of these things, too childish and trifling to be minutely described, are the standing wonders of the boasted ceremonies of the Metai, or grand medicine, the principal religious ceremony of the Indians.
5. 6. 7. 8. 9.
5. 6. 7. 8. 9.
5. Wuh-we-kwa-be-yah neen-na neen-go-che meen-da-mo-sah nei-an dun-nub be-ah-neen-na.
I cover over myself, sitting down in a secret place with a woman.
6. Hug-ge-ta a-a-ho ke-ta-nee-na ke-ta-nee-na.
I speak of your heart; (to a moose.)
7. Do-je-teem mam-mo-e-yahn ween-e-se mam-mo-e-yahn o-nah-ge-che mam-mo-e-yahn.
Your tripe, I take your melt, I take; your straight gut I take.
These are the choice parts of a moose; the attitude of the hunter is expressive of his exultation; it is the o-nah-ge-che which he holds in his hands. It is this part of which those delicious sausages, calledHunter’s Puddings, are made.
8. Neen-dai-yah gutche-hah hi-e-kwa-waw-hah, neen-nonadah-waw sah-ween a-ye-ke-tote whe-i-ah-hah whe-he-ya!
I can make her ashamed, because I hear what she says of me.
9. Waus-suh wa-kum-me-ga na-bah-gwaim, whe-ah whe-he-a yag-gah-ming-go na-bah-gwa.
Though you slept very far off, though you slept on the other side.
He boasts of his success with women. If his mistress slept ever so far off, even across a lake, his arm is long enough to reach her, and she will hear his voice.
10. 11. 12. 13.
10. 11. 12. 13.
10. Neen-nah-mah neen-nah-je-ta-ha-zwaw-ga, neen-nah-mah n’do-to waw-wha-to-ga n’do-to waw-wa-we-hia-ah, ya-we-he-a!
I draw your heart up, that is what I do to you.
It is intended here to represent a moose at a distance; and the line from his heart to the lodge of the Indian, indicates that he draws it, or by means of the power of his medicine controls the inclination of the animal, and brings him to a situation where he can easily be found.
11. Ne-we-nah neezh-wah neen-nah hi-ah-wa-sah (a-wes-sie,) ne-wa neezh-wah neen-nah.
I can kill any animal, I can kill.
His large knife seems intended to represent his confidence of success, and the animal is before him which he cannot only kill, but cut up.
12. O-jee-bi-yahn man-i-to, yeo-wah-ne-he-e-nah, yeo-wah-ha o-jee-bi-yahn man-i-to, whe-he-ya!
A dead man’s skin is Manito.
Sometimes they use sacks of human skin to contain their medicines, and they fancy that something is thus added to their efficacy.
13. Me-nee-sing, a-be-gwain neen-ge-wun-naijh che-hah-ga-to-ga me-nee-sing a-be-gwain, whe-he-ya!
Were she on a distant island, I can make her crazy to swim over, were she on a distant island.
Here he again boasts of the power of his medicine over the inclinations of females. This song seems to present a fair view of the state of thepassion of loveamong the Ojibbeways.
Fig. 1. 2. 3. 4.
Fig. 1. 2. 3. 4.
Fig. 1. Neen-gaw-gaw wain-e-me-ko o-ho-i-ah a-nish-a nau-ba.
I say some person has injured your life.
Among the Indians, when a doctor is called for the sick, it is usual to present him, on his entering the lodge of his patient, a kettle of the best food they are able to procure; and it is probable he commonly commences his treatment, as in this instance, by assuring his patient that he is suffering from the malice of some enemy, who hasshot medicine at him, or practised upon hisme-zin-ne-neens, to make him a victim of disease. Complaints of whatever kind, are commonly among them, if not always, attributed tobad medicine, under which comprehensive term they include every thing, except open violence, which can be the consequence of human malice and envy. The medicine man will generally go much farther than to tell his patient that he is under the influence of the incantations of somebody; he will name some person, either his own or his patient’s enemy, as he may think most for his interest. This point is fully illustrated in the history of Ais-kaw-ba-wis, in the preceding narrative. The figure has a little sack of medicine, and his song is represented by the two lines coming out of his mouth.
2. Bin-nah neen-ne-kaun, ne-mah-tah-ho-ne-go-ka. (Twice.)
Behold me, my friends, I distribute.
He directs his Me-zhin-no-way, or attendant, to distribute to his friends, and whatever persons may have assembled in the lodge on this occasion, the kettle which he holds in his hand, and which is a part of his fee.
3. Hah-we-yah be-zin-duh-wug-ga ha-be-zin-duh-wug-ga neej-a-nish-a-nau-ba nin-gat-tum-me-ga.
There is talking, there is talking, but I will eat my people.
Many diseases the Indians suppose to exist within the body, in form of a worm, or something similar, and it is a being of this kind who now speaks from the stomach of the sick person. He says, “I hear your threatening and confident words, but it is not in your power to displace me. I will devour my own, or those people that belong to me.” The medicines which this song is intended to accompany, are often given in cases of a malady, to which white men are rarely subject. It commences by a swelling of a toe, or on some part of the foot, sometimes of the knee, and this at length comes to a suppuration. An indolent and tumid ulcer gradually takes possession of the whole foot, extending to the ankle and leg, and life at length yields to it, though usually after many years. Two distinguished men of the Sioux, namely, the son of the Red Wing, of the village at Lake Pepin, and Tah-tunk-ah-nah-zhe, a chief from the plains, were suffering with this complaint in 1825. The latter, who had lately been attacked, found some benefit from the application, in various forms, of the nitro-muriatic acid. The Indians look upon the complaint as incurable, except by the extirpation of the diseased bone; and the author of the foregoing narrative has known one successful instance of this treatment. The Indian himself amputated the bone both above and below the knee joint, preserving the muscles of the leg. He survived and recovered, but his leg was of course useless. (At the bar they begin to dance.)
4. Hah-go-way ke-new-wug-ga ki-ah-ga ga-to-che-ga ki-ah-go ga-to-che-ga.
This is the gray eagle talking; he will talk.
Here the doctor speaks in his own person. He compareshimself to the gray eagle, whom the Ojibbeways consider undisputed sovereign among the birds.
5. 6. 7.
5. 6. 7.
5. This figure represents the sun, but the song is lost.
6. Ka-moke-yah-hah ka-moke-yah waw-be-gaw-gaw-ge waw-ga.
Come ye up, come ye up, white crows.
7. Ka-kaik koi-ah-na bub-bah mis-sa-wuh.
My henhawk’s skin will fly about.
Fig. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.
Fig. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.
Fig. 1. Ah-way-ah noan-dah-wug-ga muk-kud-da ge-na-beek goo-we-ah-we-aun ne-kaun.
Some one, I hear him; but I make myself black snake, my friend.
The medicine man speaks in his own person. He hears some one; he knows who it is that has used bad medicine to break his patient’s life; but he brings, to oppose it, the power and craftiness of the black snake.
2. Ain-dun wa-we-tum-maun o-ge-tah-kum-maig ke-he-a. Ain-dun wa-we-tum-maun, etc.
I myself speak, standing here on the ground.
He takes a bold and open stand against his enemies, and those of his employer.
3. We-go-nain-wa-we-ow we-he-naun? O-ge-na-beek-o-ga wa-we-yah we-he-nah.
What is this I put in your body? Snake skins I put in your body.
The two first verses are sung on entering the lodge, and before he commences giving his medicine. The third accompanies the exhibition of the first dose, which consists either of eight snake skins tied together, and the foremost having a small frog fastened to the head of it, as in the figure, or of eight fathoms of a small cord, or thong of leather, and eight wild cat’s claws fastened at equal intervals. Difficult as the swallowing of this prescription may appear to us, and as itdoubtless is, the patient receives and swallows it, all the time on his knees, and the doctor stands by singing the above song, and occasionally aiding with his finger, or a little water, in the inglutition of his formidable remedy. After this has remained a shorter or longer time in the stomach, according to the inclination of the medicine man, it is to be withdrawn; and it is in this operation, particularly when the cat’s claws are used, that the patient suffers the most excruciating torture. The end which is first given up is put into the hand of some of the attendants, and they dance and sing with it about the lodge, as the remainder is gradually given back. Then the medicine man sings the following, while the dance becomes general.
4. Ne-man-i-to-we-tah hi-yo-che-be-kun-na on-je-man-i-to-wee-yaun we-ug-usk.
I am Manito, the roots of shrubs and weeds make me Manito.
5. O-ge-na-beek-o-ga ne-kau-naug.
Snakes (are) my friends.
6.
6.
6. A-nah-me be-zhe ne-kau-naw.
Under-ground wild cat, is my friend.
At the fourth verse, he exhibits his medicines, which he says are the roots of shrubs, and of We-ug-gusk-oan, or herbs, and from these he derives his power, at least in part; but lest his claim, founded on a knowledge of these, should not be considered of sufficient importance, he proceeds to say, in the fifth and sixth verses, that the snakes and the under-ground wild cat are among his helpers and friends. The ferocity and cunning, as well as the activity of the feline animals, have not escaped the notice of the Indians, andvery commonly they give the form of animals of this family to those imaginary beings whose attributes bear, in their opinion, some resemblance to the qualities of these animals. Most of them have heard of the lion, the largest of the cats known to white men, and all have heard of the devil; they consider them the same. The wild cat here figured has horns, and his residence is under the ground; but he has a master, Gitche-a-nah-mi-e-be-zhew, (the great under-ground wild cat,) who is, as some think, Matche-Manito himself, their evil spirit, or devil. Of this last they speak but rarely. Gitche-a-nah-mi-e is a compound epithet, and in this application can scarce fail to remind the Greek scholar of many similarly compounded words in that language. The English reader will perceive the resemblance in the following “most heroic” line, preserved by Cowper:—
“To whom replied the Devil yard-long tailed.”
“To whom replied the Devil yard-long tailed.”
“To whom replied the Devil yard-long tailed.”
There was never any thing more truly Grecian, says the learned translator of the Iliad, than this triple epithet.
Fig. 1. 2. 3. 4.
Fig. 1. 2. 3. 4.
Fig. 1. Che-be-moke sa-aun.
I am rising.
This figure represents the rising sun, and intimates to the warrior the vigilance and activity required in the business on which he goes.
2. Ma-mo-yah-na ge-zhik ma-mo-yah-na. Ma-mo-yah-na ah-ke ma-mo-yah-na.
I take the sky, I take. I take the earth, I take.
This is all grasping ambition; with one hand he seizes the earth, with the other the sky, or the son, for ge-zhik means either.
He thinks it were an easy leap
it were an easy leapTo pluck bright honour from the pale faced moon;
it were an easy leapTo pluck bright honour from the pale faced moon;
it were an easy leap
To pluck bright honour from the pale faced moon;
but this effervescence of valour is apt to be of short duration, showing itself more in words than in deeds.
3. Ba-mo-sa-yah-na kee-zhik-onk ba-mo-sah-yah-na.
I walk through the sky, I walk.
This figure is to represent the moon, and may be designed to intimate to the warrior that his business is principally to be done in the night time.
4. Waw-bun-onk tuz-zhe-kwa[64]ne-waw-ween ne-go-ho-ga.
The eastern woman calls me.
This is, perhaps, some local allusion, or it may have been appended to the song in those times when the idea of taking prisoners of white women may have been a spur to the valour and enterprise of the Indian warrior. Admiration of the beauty of white women, on the part of the Indians, is not exclusively confined to the narratives of romance writers.
5. This figure, the words for which are lost, or purposely withheld, represents a lodge, a kettle, and a boy, who is a prisoner. The line from his heart to the kettle, indicates too plainly the meaning of the song. I know not whether any still doubt that the North American Indians are cannibals; if so, they are only those who have taken little pains to be correctly informed. The author of the preceding narrative had spent the best years of his life among the Ojibbeways; a woman of that tribe was, as he somewhere says, “the mother of his children;” and we need not wonder that, after becoming aware of the strong feeling of white men on this subject, he should be reluctant in speaking of it. Yet he makes no hesitation in saying, that the Sioux eat their enemies, and he once admitted, that in the large Ottawwaw settlement of Waw-gun-uk-ke-zie, he believed there were few, if any, persons living in the late war, who did not, at some time or other, eat the flesh of some people belonging to the United States. I see no reason why we should disbelieve the assertions of the Indians, and those who know them best, on this subject, or why we should expect from this race a degree of refinement and humanity, which we, and all who possess it, owe to a state of advanced civilization, and the influence of the christian religion. We doubt not that our pagan forefathers, in the wilds of Scotland, Ireland, or Hungary, ate the flesh, and particularly the hearts, of their enemies slain in battle. Why should we not believe this of the savages of our own continent?
1. Ka-go sah-ween mow-we me-zhe-kain e-kwa-we-un-na ne-boi-ah-na mow-we me-zhe-ka.
Do not mourn, my women, for me, who am about to die.
2. Hah-me-ge-neen a-na-ne-mo-e-yahn a-bitche e-nin-neeng a-na-ne-mo-kwain ah-me-ge-neen a-na-ne-mo-e-yahn.
If any man thinks himself a great warrior, I think myself the same.
(This song has been published, and illustrated, by Mr. Schoolcraft.)
Of a subject so imperfectly understood as that now before us, little can be said, without some risk of falling into error. It is probable that the threefold division, long since made by Mr. Heckewelder, of the Indian languages, spoken within the territory of the United States, may be well founded; and every advance of discovery has but confirmed the views respecting the character of these languages, which were long since elicited and announced in the correspondence between Heckewelder and Mr. Duponceau. We may speak with confidence in relation to all the dialects of the Algonkin, or Lenni Lennape, by which we mean all those having a manifest resemblance to the Delaware, or the Ojibbeway, not only in all the principal peculiarities of structure and idiom, but also in the sound of words. But whenever assertions, founded on an acquaintance with the languages of this family, are, without careful examination, extended to other branches of the American race, they should doubtless be received with caution. It may very probably be true, that the American languages, from one extremity of the continent to the other, have the family resemblance which is so manifest in the physical peculiarities of the race; but this should neither be assumed nor admitted until it has been proved.
That etymology has been of some use in historical inquiries, no one will doubt; but the evidence it affords is commonly fallacious, and where it elucidates one fact, it obscures a thousand. We know, says Sir William Jones,a posteriori, thatfitzandhijo, by the nature of two severaldialects, are derived fromjilius; thatunclecomes fromavus, andstrangerfromextra; thatjouris deducible, through the Italian, fromdies, androssignolfromluscinia, or thesinger in groves: thatsciuro ecureuil, andsquirrel, are compounded of two Greek words, descriptive of the animal; which etymologies, though they could not have been demonstrateda priori, might serve to confirm, if any such confirmation were necessary, the proofs of a connection between the members of one great empire.
Philogists, on the ground solely of etymology, or rather of similarity and dissimilarity of sound, assign to the limited territory of the United States, many different languages; and if they are content to assign these different languages, as they are pleased to call them, a common origin, and that at no very remote period, it is a matter of indifference how many stocks they enumerate. But if they would claim for each stock a different origin, the sober inquirer will certainly receive their opinions with caution.
It has been stated, that the languages of North America are not only etymologically different from those of Europe and Asia, but that their grammatical forms are also essentially unlike. Either to support or to controvert this assertion, would require a more extensive acquaintance both with American and European languages, than it falls to the lot of many to possess. We may remark, however, that thesynthetic, oragglutinatedstructure, is met with in many other languages.Riggajuhsamat’haroa, according to Goverdhan Caul, is a compound word in the Sanscrit, made up ofrich,yajush,saman; andat’harvan,gauripituriswaren-draciranaihpushyat-sitimnogireh, is a word in the same language, which may challenge comparison with any of the long and unutterable compounds in the Indian tongues; and at page 361, Vol. I. of the Asiatic Researches, we have the translation of a word which reachesone hundred and fifty-two syllables. Some of the compound words in the Greek and Latin, as well as in the English, seem to be formed in a manner precisely analogous to corresponding words in the American dialects. Resemblances and disagreements of this kind, as well as those purely etymological,doubtless may be traced between all languages.Awight, the Saxon word equivalent toaliquid, has certainly an etymological resemblance toahwao, the same word in the Menomonie dialect; but it will not be inferred from this, or many similar instances, that the Menomonies are of Saxon origin. When we read the conjectures of the most learned and sagacious etymologists, that not onlyqualisandtalis; but πηλιος, and τηλιος, have been supposed to come from the Moeso-Gothicleiks, and immediately fromguhdeiksandthalik, whence came also the Anglo-Saxonthylic,lic,like. We shall scarce wish to base upon such a foundation our opinions concerning the early history, or the subsequent migrations of nations. It is admitted that many of the American languages are similar in construction and general outline, and when we see how wide and devious have been the wanderings of theroots, even in written languages, we shall cease to expect uniformity of sound, or similar etymology in the various members of a race exposed to numberless and diversified influences in the widely separated parts of our vast continent.
Of two great families of Asiatic languages, or dialects, one abounds in polysyllabic and compound words, and inflected verbs, like the more commonly known American tongues. This family includes thePersian,Sanscrit, and many others. The second, to use the language of the learned President of the Asiatic Society,abhors the composition of words, and also the inflection of verbs. To the latter class belong the Hebrew, the Arabic, and some others; and between these and our dialects strong resemblances have been pointed out, or may be easily discovered from the Hebrew, or some of its kindred idioms, from the Sanscrit, or from the Tartar stock, it is probable the American languages must originally have been derived. But when we have good reason to believe that a rude and wholly illiterate people, removed from a low and fertile, to a cold and mountainous country, will, in the course of a few centuries, entirely change their language, why should we hope to be able to trace the dialects of our Indians satisfactorily to their parent stock?
In a great measure, if not equally vague, must be allconjectures based on mythological opinions and traditionary customs. We believe that those who have been extensively acquainted with our Indians, and have witnessed the variety of forms and dresses in which the same tradition appears, when related in different dialects, will place little reliance on opinions concerning remote history, deduced from such traditions.
One species of relics, found westward of the Mississippi, and perhaps elsewhere, may be thought to afford more conclusive evidence than all derived from language and customs, that the race of Ham have, for immemorial ages, inhabited our country. I allude to those rocks bearing very distinct and deeply indented figures, resembling the impressions of human feet. That these are works of art, is unquestionable, and being found in mountainous and scarce accessible parts of the country, remote from any of the present seats of population, or routes of communication, they afford, by their aspect of undoubted antiquity, conclusive evidence, that in ages long since elapsed, regions now desolate were tenanted, and that a wandering and hunter-population, has succeeded to one whose habits of settled industry enabled them to leave such durable monuments. I am satisfied that a person, in any measure familiar with the valuable records of the Asiatic Society, cannot visit a locality of these ancient relics, without being reminded of a passage in thePuranes, where KingStravanais described “on thewhite mountains, meditating on the traces of thedivine foot.” We are assured, by credible travellers, that this language is not understood figuratively, but that the people of the east boast of stones in their country, on which footsteps are discernible, which they assert are those ofVishnu. What is more probable, on the supposition that a branch of this race early found their way to America, than that crafty priests, or persons still possessing some of the arts of the east, should have engraved these figures from the same motives that have supplied similar memorials for the worshippers ofVishnuandSatyavrata?
But though we cannot reasonably hope to derive from the study of the American languages and dialects, any very importantassistance to aid inquiries into the remote history and connections of the various tribes who speak them, yet there is one view in which these languages will always excite a degree of interest. In them we have an authentic record of a portion of the history of the human mind. To the inquirer of any age, or any nation, who would enlarge his acquaintance with the powers and properties, the capabilities and the propensities of the minds of men, this field can never be entirely uninviting. Human language, it is probable, must ever vary with the degree of refinement, the various revolutions in the manner of thinking, and the endless variations of external influence, to which, in progress of time, they must be exposed. It is well known to every one conversant with the subject of languages generally, that, viewed summarily and superficially, language presents a great, not to say an infinite number of families and dialects. But the Mosaic account of creation, as well as the conclusions of the more sane of the physiologists and natural historians, assure us that all mankind are descended from a single pair, who could consequently have spoken but one language. It is by many supposed that some of the existing dialects spoken as mother tongues at the present day, must have been in being in the ages immediately succeeding the general deluge. At the time of this great catastrophe, it may perhaps be safely supposed, that among the eight persons saved in the ark, but one dialect was commonly spoken, as we have the positive assurance of the inspired historian, that until some time after the deluge, all the earth was of one speech and of one language; according to the computation commonly received in Europe, it is not more than four thousand years since all men spoke a common language. The inquiry which naturally presents itself is, whether the existing ramifications can be satisfactorily traced through any common branches, or directly to their union with the primeval trunk. It may be difficult to clear up this question, as the investigation presupposes a more extensive acquaintance with ancient and modern languages, than falls to the share of many to possess. Yet if, upon careful examination, we find a part, or all the dialects of the American race agreeing, not in thesound of words, but in certain grammatical peculiarities, which have an intimate and inseparable connection with the structure and genius of the language, as some of the physical peculiarities of the race depend unalterably on temperament and peculiarity of structure, co-extensive with the race, we shall then be compelled to adopt one or the other of these conclusions, namely, that all these dialects, or languages, have been derived from the same stock; or, secondly, if, with Malte Brun and others, we admit a number of different emigrations from remote parts of the world, we must then conclude that not only language, but physical conformation, is modified, moulded, and revolutionized by the influence of situation and external causes. If we admit the latter conclusion, and believe that our American race are the descendants of people who came at different and remote periods, from Asia, from Africa, and from Europe, we may then dismiss the inquiry at once. Having admitted the position, that the American languages are now all of the same family, that is, that they resemble each other as much as the men of the different bands and tribes, in external aspect, physical constitution, and moral character, resemble each other, we may cease to inquire whence they derive the peculiarities of person and language, by which they are distinguished from all other men. But we believe that an hypothesis of this kind will gain few advocates among considerate and well-informed inquirers. We believe there will be found in the languages, manners, traditions, as well as in the physical conformation and character of our Indians, proofs sufficient to satisfy the candid inquirer, that they are derived from the Asiatic stock, but not from that branch of it to which belonged the haughty, the noble, the unconquered race of Ishmael; or to that race, more interesting by their history, but less pleasing in person, manners, and character, to which were committed the premises, and from which, according to the flesh, sprang the Saviour of the world. The idea has been a favourite one with many ingenious and pious men, that in our native Americans we see the long lost tribes of Israel. Ingenuity and argument, as far as they can be carried, unsupported by a firm basis of facts, havebeen exhausted in the discussion of this question. We propose not to enter the field of argument. We admit that several of the usages of the Indians, such as their rigid separation of females during menstruation, the care with which they, in certain feasts or sacrifices, watch that no bone of the victim shall be broken, and many others, form points of strong resemblance between this race and the Hebrews. Yet the one fact, that their languages all delight in the composition of words, sufficiently satisfies us that they cannot have been derived from that stock to which belongs the Hebrew, the Chaldaic, and the Arabic. Other arguments, which, to many minds, will not appear equally conclusive, may be derived from their total ignorance of the rite of circumcision, their considering the flesh of dogs as acceptable, in sacrifice, to their deities, etc. etc. The two facts last mentioned may be allowed to have as much weight in an argument against Hebrew original, as the separation of females, and the practice of preserving entire the bones of animals eaten in war feasts, can have for it. And thus would it be easy to bring some countervailing objection to answer every one of the arguments founded on the customs and opinions of the Indians. It is not, I believe, at this time considered necessary to meet such proofs as those of Adair, which never had any other existence than in his own fancy, nor need we take into consideration the multiplied arguments, and the ingenious speculations of others, who, without sufficient acquaintance with the habits, languages, and opinions either of the remote Hebrews or of our own Indians, have gone about to establish the belief of a strong similarity between them. In the way of a summary answer to all the arguments of these men, we may be allowed to state, that in language, rather than in any other character, would the descendants of a people retain some resemblance to their remote ancestors. Religious ceremonies, civil and domestic customs, in the exposed and wandering life of barbarians, all whose thoughts must often, and perhaps for a greater part of the time, be absorbed in the necessary, and sometimes painful and laborious struggle for self-preservation, often would be intermitted and dispensed with. Previoususages would change to suit the new and ever varying condition of the people. So might language. But being indispensable to the intercourse of every day and every moment, in all situations and emergencies, and unlike religious observances of such a nature, that what is spoken to-day may, under any circumstances, with equal convenience, be spoken to-morrow, and with infinitely more facility than new signs can be invented or understood, is it not reasonable that language, of all those things pertaining to men, by which their family identity might be marked, should change slowest and last?
No extensive acquaintance with our Indians, and their languages, is required to perceive, that in all emergencies of necessity, as in those instances where they are compelled to exchange ideas with foreigners, they readily adopt any terms in a foreign idiom, for which they may not find a corresponding sign in their own; and words thus adopted becoming parts of their own language, are subject to all the inflections and modifications of sound of those which appertain originally to their tongue. Hence that diversity in sound of words in the various dialects, which bids defiance to etymological, or rather phonological investigation. But though sounds, which, for the sake of illustration, may be compared to planks on the frame of a vessel, or shingles on the roof of a house, may be, one by one, removed and substituted by new ones, still the original frame of the language, the grammatical construction, the idiomatic forms, remaining the same, the language certainly remains the same language, though altogether changed in sound, as a vessel, covered with new planks of a different colour and aspect, would still be the same vessel. Therefore, we think that if the American languages can be proved closely and entirely to resemble each other in grammatical forms and general arrangement, we may safely consider them all as dialects of the same stock, though they should now present wide and apparently unaccountable diversities in the sounds of words. How much more easily the sounds of words, standing for the ideas we have in our minds, may be changed, than the grammatical structure and idiom of language, we may every day observein foreigners, who, though they may ever so carefully and perfectly have learned our language, rarely, if ever, attain to some of the niceties peculiar to our tongue, or ever lay entirely aside some of the characteristic peculiarities of their own. If we reflect on the habits of the life the Indians lead, their frequent migrations, intermarriages with distant bands, their conquests, the numbers of prisoners they adopt, and, more than all, the want of any written characters to represent sounds of what are acknowledged to be the same words in different dialects of the same tongue; nor shall we hastily, on the foundation of mere diversity of sound, attempt to establish a multiplicity of different stocks. It is to be remembered, that the Americans have never, like the ancient Arabs, made the improvement of their idiom a common, or, in any shape, a general or public concern; they have never appointed solemn assemblies for the purpose of exercising their poetical talents, or held it a duty to make their children acquainted with traditionary compositions of any sort, which measures, even had they been adopted, could not have effectually secured their languages against mutations of sound or structure.
But although we can by no means pretend either to trace the American languages to the remote parent stock, or to assert that they have or have not been derived from existing and known languages, we may easily group together those which have manifest resemblance equally in structure and in the sound of words, and the groups thus formed will always be found to bring together assemblages of people, showing strong family resemblance to each other. The threefold division which was long since made by Mr. Heckewelder, of the languages within the United States’ territory, is probably founded in correct observation of the district at that time known. The Lenni Lennape, or Algonkin, the Iroquois, and the Floridian, presenting each numerous and widely dissimilar dialects, occupy all the country from the Gulf of St. Lawrence to Cape Florida, and westward to and beyond the Mississippi. Of the languages spoken in the remote and almost unexplored countries about the Rocky Mountains, too little information has been obtained, to enable us toindicate to what extent the dialects of either of the above mentioned groups may prevail in that direction. Toward the north the Iroquois seem to be limited to a few remaining in the settled parts of Canada, and to the Dahcotah bands extending northward, in the direction of the upper branches of the Mississippi, but scarce reaching the parallel of forty degrees north. Beyond this the Algonkin dialects, particularly the Ojibbeway and Cree, and the Muskegoe, expand through all the country, from near the base of the Rocky Mountains to the south western shores of Hudson’s Bay, and even in the vast peninsula of Labrador.
Westward of Hudson’s Bay, from the Churchill River to the Pacific coast, and northward to the country of the Esquimaux, are found the languages of the Chip-pe-wi-yan[65]group, including the people commonly called Chippewyans, the Sarcess, the Beaver, Red Knife, Strong Bow Indians, and many other tribes. Here we meet with a language far more monosyllabic than any hitherto known among the North Americans; one possessing a dual termination for substantives, but no plural, and whose verbs are nearly or quite incapable of inflection. Yet in the circumstance of a tendency to compounding, we find it not unlike other dialects. The peculiarities of these languages are as yet too little understood to enable the philologist to pronounce with confidence that they have any nearer resemblance to the Algonkin or the Iroquois, than to the Erse or German. Yet the people who speak them have, in their persons, all the prominent peculiarities of the American race.
Of all the remaining parts of North America, information is too scanty to justify any attempt to class the dialects.
In the present state of information on these subjects, more important service will be rendered to philology, by adding to the mass of materials, than by any vague and general discussions; we shall therefore devote the remainder of this chapter to such specimens of Indian languages as have fallen in our way, premising that our aim has been to conform, as nearly as possible, to the orthography of the English language.[66]This orthography is liable to many objections; so also would be any other that could be devised. The sounds of letters must always be somewhat arbitrary, inasmuch as there is no manner of resemblance between the sign and the thing signified.