The display of grief for the Abenaki, was not unlike that of the Irish. Lescarbot describes the scene after the death of one of the Chief's sons; Panoniac. When his body was brought back to his village, the residents painted their faces black and howled and wailed for several days.
"After our savages had wept for Panoniac, they went to the place where his cabin was whilst he did live, and there they did burn all that he had left, his bows, arrows, quivers, his beavers' skins, his tobacco (without which they cannot live), his dogs, and other small movables, to the end that nobody should quarrel for his succession." (In earlier times, the Irish would burn the bed of the deceased to ward off evil spirits).
Panoniac was then buried in a shallow grave, but in the spring the body was exhumed and his remains moved to more sacred ground; as Lescarbot says to: "a desolate island, towards Cap de Sable, some five-and-twenty or thirty leagues distant from Port Royal. Those isles which do serve them for churchyards are secret amongst them, for fear some enemy should seek to torment the bones of their dead." Further "...after they have brought the dead to his rest, every one maketh him a present of the best thing he hath. Some do cover him with many skins of beavers, of otters, and other beasts; others present him with bows, arrows, quivers, knives, matachias, and other things."
One of the reasons for the burial ground being kept a secret, was due to the custom at the time of "grave robbing" by the European fur traders and fishermen. The best beaver hats were made from the felt of a robe that had been worn, since the Natives wore the fur next to their skin and the natural body oil helped to make the beaver fur more workable.
Some early explorerers mistakenly believed that the Native people did not bury their dead, since they could find no cemeteries or "church yards". However, while many Canadian people were still nomadic, meaning that the dead would have to be buried at their present location, others were sedentary and did have separate burial grounds.
Widows also mourned their loss. Again according to Lescarbot: "If a woman should lose her husband through death, she does not marry again, but goes about declaring her widowhood by daubing their face with coal beaten to powder, and with grease, and applied thickly". If her husband died in battle : "... they may dramatically change their diet - not eat meat - until the death of her husband has been revenged.”
There is an entry in Mrs. Simcoe's Diary, (page 210), that also attests to the fact that the Native Canadians did indeed mourn their loss: "An Indian came here who by way of being in mourning for a relation, was painted black round his face."
And did they believe in Heaven? Again, Lescarbot: "They believe also that when they die they go up into the stars, and afterwards they go into fair green fields, full of fair trees, flowers, and rare fruits" Sounds like Heaven to me.
Then, as Diereville wrote: "On the third day a feast was held as a recognition of the great satisfaction which the deceased was supposed to feel at rejoining his ancestors. After this the women made a garment, or winding sheet, of birch bark, in which he was wrapped and put away on a sort of scaffold for twelve months to dry. At the end of that time the body was buried in a grave, in which the relatives at the same time threw bows, arrows, snow-shoes, darts, robes, axes, pots, moccasins and skins."
In a publication by Elizabeth Frame, List of Micmac names of Places, Rivers, etc., in Nova Scotia , prepared for the library of the Massachusetts Historical Society; and presented at its meeting, June 9th, 1892, she describes this scene: “... Round the fire, boughs were laid, which served the family for seats. Dogs snored around the camps, and papooses lay sleeping in the cradles strapped to their mothers' backs, their brown faces upturned to the sun. One mother sat apart, nursing a dying babe. She had prepared a tiny carrying belt, a little pail, and a paddle, to aid her child in the spirit land".
Then every ten years, they held their Feast of the Dead, and everyone who had lost a loved one in the past decade, exhumed the body and brought it back to the village, where the bones were scraped clean of any flesh or skin and rewrapped in fresh fur. When everyone was finished they would feast, tell stories about the dead, play sporting games, and give presents to their young.
All members of the League obeyed the primary law known as Kainerekowa, or 'The Great Law of Peace', which, simply stated, meant that the Iroquois people should not kill each other. The League also had a written constitution based on 114 wampums and reinforced by a funeral rite known as the "Condolence", where there would be a shared mourning at the passing of chiefs from the member tribes. An account by one mid-nineteenth century author, gives us an idea of the Iroquois' sincerity.
Including the Indian Wars of the American Revolution
by William L. Stone. Volume II Buffalo: Phinney & Co., 1851
"But, however humble the deceased, the remains are never unhonored or unwept; and among no people on earth are stronger evidences given of tender affection. Nor are funeral honors bestowed only upon the men.
" The greatest honors are paid to the remains of the wives of renowned warriors and veteran chiefs, particularly if they were descended themselves of a high family, which is by no means an indifferent thing among the Indians, who love to honor the merit of their great men in the persons of their relatives."* The funerals of chiefs and warriors, and of distinguished women, were attended by the heads of the tribe, and all the people, and their ceremonies were highly impressive.
On the opening of all their councils, a ceremony of condolence was performed, and an appropriate speech delivered, in memory of those who had died, or been slain on the war-path, since their last meeting. These ceremonies were solemn, and their speeches often full of simplicity, tenderness, and pathos. Among the papers of Sir William Johnson is a manuscript of a speech of condolence, delivered at the opening of a council in 1761, by Seneca George, a few passages of which may be cited as an example:--
"BROTHERS : We suppose that in the late troubles you may have lost many of your people, either by sickness or war, since we were last together; by this string, therefore, we wipe away the tears from your eyes, clear your throats, wash away the Heckewelder blood from your bodies, sweep the council chamber, and throw the dirt out of doors, that you may see and speak to us clearly at the present conference.
" BROTHERS : We are sorry, from the bottom of our hearts for the death of your men, women, and children, and by this belt we collect all their bones together, bury them in one grave, and cover them up (A black belt, eight rows, streaked with white.)
" BROTHERS : We are at great loss, and sit in darkness as well as yon, by the death of Conrad Weiser,* as, since his death, we cannot so well understand one another. By this belt we cover his body with bark. (A white belt of seven rows, with four black streaks.)
" BROTHERS : By the last belt, I mentioned to you that weboth sat in darkness. Now, by this belt I remove the cloudsfrom before the sun, that we may see it rise and set, and thatyour hearts may be eased from sorrow on account of what Imentioned before. (Delivered a white belt of five rows, withthree black bars.) We pray the Great God above, who can enlighten our hearts, that we may live in love and peace until death."
"From the manuscripts of Captain Brant, it seems frequently to have been his duty to perform the ceremony of condolence, and he sometimes speaks of making a journey to a considerable distance for that sole purpose. Only one of his speeches, however, on such an occasion, remains among his papers. That was delivered in the name of the Five Nations, on the 24th of February, 1801, at Fort George, (Niagara,) on the death of Mrs. Claus, the mother of the Deputy Superintendent:-
SPEECH OF CONDOLENCE TO CAPTAIN CLAUS.
" BROTHER : We are here now met in the presence of the Spirit above, with intent to keep up the ancient custom of condolement. We therefore condole with you for your late loss of our well-beloved sister, whom now you have interred.
" BROTHER : We hope that this may not damp your heart, so much as to make you forget us, who are your brothers-not only ourselves, but our wives and children.
" BROTHER : We say now again, that by our late loss, it seems our fire is somewhat extinguished. But we have now found a few brands remaining, and have collected them together, and have raised a straight smoke to the clouds.
" BROTHER : We therefore with this string of wampum wipe away the tears from your eyes, and would take away all sorrow from your heart. But that is impossible: still, it is the customary way of making the speech. We therefore mention it: and with the said wampum we wipe away all stains of whatever should remain on your seat, so that you may sit down in comfort.
" BROTHER : We say again with this string of wampum, as you seem to be all in darkness, we with the same string enlighten the skies above us, so that it may appear to us all as it formerly used to do.
" BROTHER : We say again with this string of wampum, as owe have now made our speech of condolement, we hope to raise you upon your feet, as you formerly used to be; for since our late loss, it seems you have been confined as one absent.
" BROTHER : We hope you will not forget our calamities hoping that this shock may not put us out of your memory entirely-and also that you may continue to help us, as you formerly used to do.
" BROTHER : This last string which now I give you, is given, by the whole Six Nations, so as to strengthen your mind and body-that you may not be too much cast down by the occasion of our late loss."
An address was likewise transmitted to the council from the women, which was delivered by a sachem called Old Thomas; but a copy has not been preserved. Only the last half sheet of Captain Claus's reply is now to be found:
" She was good, and was a friend to you all, as far as she had it in her power, by speaking in your favor always. But was I to continue, I should again bring to my memory her great love for me, and fill my eyes and heart again, so that I could not attend to your affairs...."
"Captain Claus had been so much affected by the death of his mother, as to be confined to his room ; and although he met the Chiefs in council on this occasion, he was unable to reply, but sent his speech afterward in writing".
"Grateful thanks for your condolence, and allow me to look upon you as my friends - wishing you, and all belonging to you, health and all happiness.
" BROTHERS, I now address myself again to you. As the business is now over, and you will be turning your faces toward home, I pray to the Great Spirit that he will make your road smooth, and leave no obstacle in the way, that will either hurt or stop you; but that you may get safe home, and meet your friends all well; whom I beg you will salute for me. I shall always be happy to be numbered among your friends."
