Read an Excerpt
Speculators In Empire
Iroquoia and the 1768 Treaty of Fort Stanwix
By William J. Campbell UNIVERSITY OF OKLAHOMA PRESS
Copyright © 2012 University of Oklahoma Press
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8061-4710-9
CHAPTER 1
EXCHANGES AND TRANSFORMATIONS
So long as historians confine themselves "to the records kept by white men," William Fenton once wrote, they are "bound—even in the most conscientious interpretation of Indian-White relations—to miss something of the Indian point of view." There is merit in that claim, and it should keep us humble about what we know from a limited set of documents. It is true that mostly white men put ink to paper, but documentary sources can still reveal some things about indigenous perspectives. As important, to reject the notion that one cannot tease "Indian perspectives" from written records is to deny that indigenous negotiators grasped the evolving concepts of, and contributed to, the world around them. In the end, the records of the white men Fenton speaks of also unveil diverse participants with varied motives that simply do not fit well with a colonizer- colonized dichotomy. Some of the most convincing arguments illustrating the primary role of indigenous agency in early American history have focused on the clever fluidity and malleability of the Iroquois.
From the time of contact through the early national period, Iroquois negotiators carefully crafted and forged a place for their communities during a time of unprecedented upheaval. Their primary concerns were often regional, their conflict resolution patterns ancient. By the eighteenth century, however, Iroquois leaders faced new obstacles. With their homelands threatened and population on a dramatic decline, they met local concerns with strategies of continental proportions. In fact, when European negotiators met Iroquois headmen to discuss trade, land transactions, war, and peace, both sides angled with a firm understanding of the other's cultural characteristics, procedures, and intentions. Therefore, to write the Iroquois into the history of early America we must attempt to understand the origins and evolution of the methods of communication between the various groups. Appreciation of the historical agency of both European and indigenous populations cannot be complete without an explanation of the intricacies of cross-cultural diplomacy throughout the northeastern borderlands.
The diplomatic mechanisms the Six Nations used to resolve issues "might well be an Example to the European Nations," colonial politician and intellectual Cadwallader Colden remarked in 1727. The Great Laws of Peace, or He Gayanashagowa, have long remained a fundamental component in resolving conflicts among the Iroquois and a spiritual cornerstone preserving the history of a people. Though the exact date remains debatable, oral and early written histories have preserved rich accounts of the events. According to nineteenth-century linguist Horatio Hale, the story of the Great Laws begins sometime during the middle of the fifteenth century. In his account of the legend, Hale records that for centuries prior to the Great Laws the Five Nations fought with one another and the surrounding tribes. At the height of conflict, the eastern tribes (Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas) were suffering from an extended war with one another and the coastal nations, and the Senecas and Cayugas had similar problems with confederacies to the west. According to Iroquois oral history, the Indian Peacemaker Dekanawidah rose above the conflict and traveled with Hiawatha among the nations urging resolution. After the Mohawks and Oneidas accepted the Peacemaker's message, the prophet traveled to the Onondagas. When he reached the Onondagas, Atotarho, a ruthless headman who ruled the nation with an iron first, refused to relinquish his power. Compromising, Dekanawidah promised Atotarho that the Onondagas would forever maintain control over the Council Fire, keeping the oral record the Five Nations. After Atotarho agreed, the Dekanawidah called the five warring nations together, buried their weapons under the Tree of Peace, and set the foundation to a method of peaceful resolution—also known as the Great Laws. The spread of the Laws is worthy of further exploration, because it is the method of intertribal resolution the Five Nations of the Iroquois League agreed upon that remains central to this study.
The call to assemble to resolve a dispute was initiated by a message carried on a string or belt of wampum, which cleared the road to allow peaceful passage to the designated council fire at Onondaga, or katsihstakéhõ?. Singing would be heard as the approaching participants engaged in event-specific song. Often the chanting of the names of the Iroquois League's founding chiefs would be heard as the respected sachems arrived at the great council fire. According to some scholars, the traditional council consisted of fifty chiefs each representing a matrilineage within one of the founding nations of the League. The Senecas had eight representatives, the Mohawks and Oneidas nine, the Cayugas ten, and the Onondagas fourteen. These "civil" chiefs, or sachems, were often distinct from their "war" chief counterparts and "were to be confirmed in their offices by the General Council of the League," also known as the Grand Council. Despite the obvious numerical disparity, the power of the Grand Council was, theoretically, equally shared among the original Five Nations when they met to discuss the affairs of the League. To be sure, the number of tribal appointments varied between nations from time to time, but the principle of cooperation, guided by ritualistic protocol, remained the foundational principle of the Great Laws.
When the participants arrived, each tribe was greeted by the "At the Wood's Edge" ceremony, which offered condolences for the losses suffered by the respective tribe since their last gathering. The ritualistic "covering of the dead" played an important role in Iroquois culture and negotiation protocol. The "Three Bare Words" were spoken, metaphorically clearing their eyes, ears, and throats to allow for unhampered deliberations. This constituted the first part of the "Requickening Address." A roll call of chiefs soon followed, as did the "Six Songs," all of which called upon the strength and wisdom of the League's founders as the chiefs prepared for deliberations. This was followed by the installation of any new chiefs, who often took the place and name of past council chiefs. A wampum record of the events was prominently displayed and songs of peace sung. The process took those involved though a metaphorical transformation. Evil thoughts were purged and any obstructions cleared from the body. The participants recalled past friendships, figuratively covered the dead, renewed camaraderie by shining the friendship chain, dispelled the clouds in the sky in order to restore the sun, and rekindled the council fire. In this respect, the Iroquois and their League would continue for time immemorial.
After at least one night of rest and informal greetings, divided by intertribal association the appointed councilors sat on two opposing sides of the fire. The first moiety included the Mohawks and Senecas, the gatekeepers of the metaphorical longhouse, and the Onondagas, the "firekeepers." They addressed the congregated Oneidas and Cayugas on the other side of the fire as "you, our children," who in turn addressed the Mohawk, Seneca, and Onondaga representatives as "our father's kinsmen." The Tuscaroras, the sixth nation to enter into the Iroquois union in the early 1720s, had limited and indirect input into the decision-making process.
Next, ancestral laws and customs were recited and forgiveness for past injustices requested. Negotiations then began with the Mohawk chiefs, the first nation to embrace the message of the Peacemaker. After agreeing on a statement, a Mohawk speaker conveyed their decision to the Senecas, the last nation to bury the war hatchet and join the Iroquois League. Once the Senecas agreed, or a compromise was reached, the speaker of the first moiety, usually a Mohawk, announced the decision to the chiefs of the opposite side of the council fire. Wampum belts and strings that encoded the message were held by the speaker and passed over the fire. The Oneidas and Cayugas listened, supposedly without interruption, and acknowledged the message by touching and returning the wampum to the speaker. In a similar fashion of deliberation, and often a day later, the Oneidas and Cayugas conversed and when they reached an agreement announced their sentiment to the Onondagas—the designated mediators of the deliberations. Officially, the Onondagas' decision stood as the final verdict unless they decided to resubmit the matter to the chiefs for another round of deliberation. Theoretically, the council deliberations remained open until the issue at hand was resolved or an agreement of deferment reached. Finally, after formal condolences and treaty negotiations, a public feast and presentation of gifts were arranged to conclude the negotiations.
The process of negotiation and deliberation no doubt varied depending on the immediate circumstances. Like the Iroquois union itself, protocol altered over time. Both were processes rather than organizations and events set in stone. This was especially the case after contact with Europeans. Mohawk influence among the Iroquois, for instance, grew considerably during the seventeenth century after contact with French and Dutch (and later English) traders. By the middle of eighteenth century, however, the western nations, the Senecas in particular, began to exercise more tangible authority among their brethren as a result of numerical superiority, land possession, and trade alternatives, among other factors. Thus, depending on the issue at hand, regional interests among the Iroquois impacted council negotiations, protocol, and the decisions of the Grand Council. That being said, the negotiation protocol, even if loosely observed and always evolving, increasingly provided the foundation for cross-cultural exchange patterns throughout the northeastern borderlands. And as this use of the method of communication increased, so too did the claims of its indigenous creators. To be sure, peace had brought power and security to five once-warring nations. Centuries later, many of those same nations sought to secure a future by making the most of their place at the council fires of the northeastern borderlands.
The roots of what Fenton unfortunately called "forest diplomacy" can be traced to an "entrenched piece of Iroquois political ritual, the Condolence Ceremony for the mourning of dead chiefs and the installation of successors." Although traditional greetings and expressions remained intact, instead of dividing by intertribal association participants would often separate into two lines, as dictated by one's affiliation with Europeans or with the indigenes, on each side of the council fire. The dynamic among the nations of the League remained intact as the Iroquois treated with the newcomers. Similar to traditional verbatim recall, each point made was repeated and summarized while the speaker confirmed the message on wampum. By linking proposals to answers, "wampum functioned to regulate the ongoing speech event, and, in the end, to leave each side with a mnemonic record of the proceedings."
Essentially there existed four basic rules to initiating indigenous-European council procedures. First, the hosts delivered a ceremonial welcome. Next, the visiting participants answered the ceremonial welcome and expected hospitality. Then, the fire was kindled as the petitioners set the agenda of the council and proposed the first point of negotiation. Finally, the respondents answered all proposals made by the petitioners before introducing their own business. By the mid-seventeenth century, this basic protocol for treaty negotiations had spread throughout the northeast, southeast, and Great Lakes region. By then "plumed and painted Indian chiefs met frocked and bewigged white men in what must count as one of the most interesting examples of a contact phenomenon in the early history of Indian-white relations."
Related to this, we must also not forget that the term "treaty" in early America did not exclusively denote the confirmation of a signed contract between the appointed representatives of two or more nations. A treaty, Francis Prucha remarks, also included the "'act of negotiating,' the discussion aimed at adjustment of difference or the reaching of an agreement, and by extension the meeting itself at which such negotiations took place." Consequently, for European and later American statesmen, the term itself also meant the process of "'holding a treaty,' 'inviting the Indians to a treaty,' providing provisions 'for a treaty' or greeting Indians as they arrived 'at a treaty.'"
By the mid-eighteenth century, documented ceremonial and treaty practices throughout eastern regions of North America reveal the dissemination and use of Iroquois protocol and the multiple meanings of "treaty" itself. In Six Nations country, parameters had expanded to include a British element. Two fires officially burned—one at Onondaga, the ancient heart of the Iroquois longhouse, and the other at Johnson Hall, the impressive Mohawk River valley manor of Sir William Johnson, the superintendent of Indian affairs for the northern colonies. By building negotiations on a foundation of Iroquois language and rituals, indigenous delegates and middlemen created an acceptable "protocol of intercultural diplomacy" that British colonial rulers warmly welcomed. The system was welcomed because it served not only the Grand Council's claim to vast territories and image of themselves as continental overlords but also those of the British colonizers who sought alliances to advance their own imperial goals. Securing allies also entailed following elements of ceremonial etiquette—namely, gift giving, a practice that had become lavish with the arrival of Europeans.
Gift giving among indigenous societies had a long and multifaceted history prior to European contact. Because gifts served a variety of functions in American Indian communities, they were regularly exchanged. Gifts were used to signify prestige and authority, to maintain loyalty and respect, to bribe, to pay tribute, to declare war, and to condole the families of those who died. The French were the first to adopt and redefine the practice of gift giving to solidify and establish friendships in the region. As French and English authorities competed for empire, the availability, quality, and quantity of gifts became increasingly important. "Castor hats trimmed with lace, gaudy waistcoats, brightly colored strouds ... scalping knives, bullet molds, and vermilion war paint ... wampum, duck shot, tin pots, needles, thread and scissors" were among a list of items used to reaffirm or gain alliances. But gifts were costly, and British authorities conscious of the debts incurred during the Seven Years' War eventually tightened the purse strings.
The failure to maintain a fair and constant supply of goods for gifts had devastating effects. One aspect of the Uprising of 1763 (known as "Pontiac's") showed the cost of curtailing gifts. When Europeans failed to distribute the appropriate gifts and respect indigenous land claims, Great Lakes and Ohio peoples interpreted neglect as a failure to maintain an alliance and viewed the inaction as European disregard for their important role. The strategic and economic benefits gained from cross-cultural trade and negotiations were not restricted to Europeans. The impact of European commodities and the Atlantic market on indigenous societies was widespread. Few first nations, however, both exploited and were exploited by the situation more than the Iroquois.
Of the multitude of concepts, goods, and organisms that transformed traditional patterns of behavior, European diseases, market economies, and concepts of ownership and husbandry created circumstances that fueled tensions between competing peoples. Those tensions often erupted into conflict, and conflict led to death. For the Iroquois, because the "killing of a member of one group mandated revenge on the perpetrator's people," clashes over resources also provided forums through which young warriors sought to address past grievances, fulfill tribal obligations, and elevate their social status by demonstrating their courage and skill during battle. By the mid-seventeenth century, however, these objectives became increasingly difficult as populations rapidly declined and nations divided over how to best cope with dramatically altering circumstances.
During the seventeenth century, the economic importance Europeans placed on pelts perhaps had the most extensive implications for the Iroquois and their immediate neighbors. Indigenous social and cultural traditions were altered to gain useful goods by satisfying European demands for furs. Although the "individualistic, profit-seeking values of Western European capitalism" did not completely replace traditional economic patterns, the impact of trade was significant. By the beginning of the seventeenth century, indigenous societies found it difficult to survive without the materials gained by trade with Europeans. In fact, coupled with the ecological impact of European farming and concepts of property ownership, maintaining traditional life patterns throughout northeastern borderlands became increasingly problematic. As a result, existing enmity between indigenous communities increased as fewer and fewer of them competed fiercely for control over natural resources.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Speculators In Empire by William J. Campbell. Copyright © 2012 University of Oklahoma Press. Excerpted by permission of UNIVERSITY OF OKLAHOMA PRESS.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
