Having earned the status of war chieftains for their prowess in battle, Dull Knife (far left) and Little Wolf led the Cheyenne in resistance to white encroachment during the 1860s and 1870s. The large cross worn by Dull Knife in this photograph was mainly decorative; for spiritual strength in battle, he carried the beaded lizard amulet (top left).
In the years immediately following the Civil War, the Seneca Ely Samuel Parker, or Donehogawa, as his people called him, was the most acclaimed Indian in North America. A direct descendant of Jigonsaseh, the Mother of Nations, who helped the culture heroes Hiawatha and Deganawida found the historic Iroquois League, Parker held the office of Keeper of the Western Door, embodying a link to the not-so-distant past when the league's five tribes dominated the eastern woodlands. But Parker was equally celebrated in the world of the white man. A skilled civil engineer, he had fought at the siege of Vicksburg and later, as military secretary to Ulysses S. Grant, transcribed the surrender document signed by Confederate general Robert E. Lee at Appomattox. By that time, Parker had risen to the rank of brigadier general. When Grant was elected president of the United States in 1868, he made Parker commissioner of Indian affairs—the first Native American to hold that position.
It was in this role of patriot and public servant that Parker was invited to the New York studio of James F. Kelley, a noted sculptor. In keeping with the contemporary custom of making busts of famous individuals, Kelley had been commissioned to do a rendering of Parker.
During their first session together, the sculptor told Parker that he considered him to be the greatest Indian who ever lived. When Parker scoffed at the notion, citing a host of other chiefs living and dead who were much "better and wiser" than himself, Kelley explained his reasoning; "I do not intend to flatter you," he said. "I mean that you are a man who has 'pierced the enemy's lines.' You have torn yourself from one environment and made yourself master of another. In this you have done more for your people than any other Indian who ever lived. You proved what an Indian of capacity could be in the white man's world. The heroes you name did not. We have no way of measuring their capacity in our standards. We do not even know exactly what they said; their speeches were all translated by interpreters. But we know what you have said as
We know what you have done, and that measured by our own ideals.”
"That may be true,” Parker replied acidly, "but why should you test the capacity of the red man's mind in measures that may have an improper scale? Do you measure cloth with a balance or by the gallon?”
Ambrocio Martinez, elected governor of New Mexico's San Juan Pueblo in the early 1900s, holds two silver canes symbolinng his authority. One cane was given to the pueblo by the Spaniards when they ruled the SouAwest; the other was presented by President Lincoln in 1863 as a gesture of amity. Still in use, such canes are passed from one pueblo leader to the next.
Ely Parker had put his finger precisely on the problem most whites have had in judging Indian leaders. Like James Kelley, they have perceived them in Western rather than in Indian terms. Even the word chief is somewhat of a misnomer, for it implies an authority that few Indian leaders possessed. The overwhelming majority of chiefs led their people by consensus, not coercion. In fact, most tribes had numerous chiefs, with different words in their language to describe each rank and jurisdiction. Parker's own Iroquois League, for example, had a ruling body of 50 hoyamagowar, or "great councilors,” as the Seneca called them. In addition, the Iroquois also had a lesser body of leaders, known as "solitary pine trees.”
Such an abundance of chiefs was not uncommon among the larger Indian nations. Even the Cheyenne, whose population during the mid-19th century probably never exceeded 4,000, had 44 different chiefs: four from each of the tribe's 10 bands and four head chiefs. Collectively they formed a governing council that decided all major issues facing the community, such as the undertaking of war, the creation of alliances with a neighboring tribe, or the decision to move camp in pursuit of the buffalo herds during the communal hunting season.
The council of chiefs typically reached a decision only after engaging in lengthy public debate—and rarely went against the wishes of the majority of the people. Although the opinion of a head chief generally carried more weight than that of a lesser chief, he had no more political power and was obeyed only to the extent that his opinions made good sense. Not surprisingly, most chiefs were brilliant speakers, capable of expressing their views with clarity and eloquence in almost any setting.
In some Indian communities, sons inherited their chieftaincies from the mother's side of the family, as was the case with Ely Parker. In others, they inherited rank from their father. A few of the New England and midAtlantic coastal tribes had female chiefs as well. In several communities, women of childbearing age nominated candidates and passed judgment on their performance. Most frequently, a chief qualified for his position on personal merit, with a tribal council determining his worthiness.
The common proving ground was war, especially among the Plains and eastern woodlands tribes. Before a young man could join the council that advised and selected tribal leaders, he had to perform a militaiy feat. The Crow, for example, recognized four such feats: leading a successful war party; stealing a horse from an enemy camp; being the first to touch or count coup on an enemy; and seizing an enemy's weapon in hand-to-hand combat. Once a warrior had achieved one of them, the Crow called him batse tse, or "valiant man," and he was eligible to become a chief.
Although exact roles differed from tribe to tribe, a chief's main duty was to safeguard his people. Looking out for the welfare of the widows and orphans was a primaiy task; settling disputes between quarreling families, another. In addition to benevolence and a talent for mediation, chiefs also were noted for generosity. Among tribes of the Northwest Coast, a chief could cement his position by distributing huge quantities of trade goods and ceremonial objects to his followers. Giveaways of wealth were also common on the Plains, where a chief might spread his influence beyond his immediate band by giving away horses and food.
When it came to fighting, however, most tribes selected a different leader—a man who was chosen specifically for his skills as a warrior. A war chief was almost always someone of proven ability who had shown exceptional braveiy on the battlefield as well as a sound grasp of militaiy tactics. He was never granted authoritarian power and had to rely on his reputation to attract participants in a war party. Each successful experience in combat added to his stature. One failure, however—sometimes merely the loss of a single warrior—could tarnish his prestige and even end his career as a war chief.
Eveiy Indian nation cherishes traditions of illustrious past leaders. With few exceptions, however, the actual lives of these ancestral chiefs remain shrouded in legends. Written histoiy began only with the arrival of the Europeans, who chronicled the three-centuiy-long white-Indian conflict that ended with the total militaiy defeat of the Indian peoples. In tribe after tribe, this era of crisis called forth chiefs of heroic proportions.
Against impossible odds, some conducted unrelenting warfare; others turned their energies to seeking peace and accommodation. All of them were patriots. For the most part, however, the greatness of these men was rarely recognized until after they were dead or no longer posed a threat to American expansion. King Philip, Pontiac, Tecumseh, and contemporaries of Ely Samuel Parker such as Black Hawk, Mangas Colo-radas, Victorio, Cochise, Geronimo, Quanah Parker, Red Cloud, Sitting Bull, and Crazy Horse were reviled in their time as "savages," "bandits," and "threats to civilization." But the accounts of their lives reveal qualities well worth emulation —qualities that without doubt descended through countless generations of Native Americans: loyalty, bravery, wisdom, and dedication to improving the lot of their people.
Even in the earliest days of the American colonies, a few farsighted chiefs foresaw the trend toward dispossession. One such leader was Metacomet, the second son of Woosamequin, or Yellow Feather, the Wampanoag grand sachem known to history by his title, Massasoit. Originally, Massasoit's people ruled much of present-day Rhode Island and southern Massachusetts, including Cape Cod and the islands of Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard. But between 1616 and 1619, the years immediately preceding the Puritans' arrival at Plymouth, the Wampanoag lost half to two-thirds of their population to a plague— probably smallpox—and the 1,000 or so survivors found themselves threatened by their traditional enemies, the Narragansett, or People of the Point, who lived west of the 28-mile-long inlet off the Rhode Island coast, subsequently named Narragansett Bay after them.
Massasoit sought to improve his people's weakened position by offering the Puritans a treaty of friendship. For decades, the alliance benefited both sides. In 1636 Massasoit kept the Wampanoag out of the first major Indian-white conflict in New England, which resulted in the near destruction of the Pequot, an Algonquian-speaking tribe originally united with the Mohegan. Had Massasoit backed the Pequot, the Puritans might well have lost their foothold in the New World. The Puritans, for their part, provided the Wampanoag with ongoing protection against the Narragansett Indians, along with a steady supply of valuable trade goods. But amity exacted its price. As an increasing number of new colonists arrived from England and the coastal towns filled up, Puritan authorities demanded the right to settle on more and more of the Wampanoag land.
Chief TIupanamabu of the Nootka Indians of the Northwest Coast wears his culture’s badge of honor, a woven whaler’s hat decorated, like the one at right, with images of hunters bravely harpooning whales from their small boats.
World History
