The Big Book of Canadian Hauntings. John Robert Colombo
us to think about the ultimate mysteries, about life and death, about destiny and fate, about grace and disgrace, about mystery and goodness, about evil and goodness, about madness and sanity, about the nature of life and reality. Responding to such possibilities prompts us to be more thoughtful, more impassioned, and more accommodating to the prospects and expectations that exist in our society, the world, and the universe in which we live.
This is not my opinion alone, but the considered opinion of William James, the great psychologist (who developed the theory of Pragmatism) who was known in his day as a psychical researcher. He devoted twenty-five years of his life to psychical research in the United States and Great Britain. In a letter to a fellow researcher, dated January 1, 1886, he ventured the following conviction about this field of interest and inquiry to which I subscribe:
It is a field in which the sources of deception are extremely numerous. But I believe there is no source of deception in the investigation of nature which can compare with a fixed belief that certain kinds of phenomenon are impossible.
1 SPIRITS OF THE NATIVE PEOPLES
The reader will find in the first section of this book descriptions of the psychical and spiritual practices of the Native people, as they were recorded in the columns of the newspapers of their day. Prior to the 1960s it was customary to refer to the Native people who occupy the polar regions of Canada as “the Eskimo” and “Indians.” The tone of these accounts is by turn quaint and condescending. But they do preserve a sense of surprise and mystery as they describe shamanistic or pagan principles and practices, and they do prepare the reader for the final account, a memoir, which is much longer than all the rest combined. It is included here because it brings everything up to date. It suggests that the Native mysteries, far from being relegated to the past, are very much part of the present and will positively be part of the future, too!
In the 1960s, as if to mark the coming to political power of the Native people, the word Eskimo was dropped in favour of the word Inuit (which means “people” in Inuktitut, the language the Inuit speak). Since articles like this one predate the 1960s by almost a century, the word Eskimo will be maintained. “Spiritism among the Esquimaux” appeared in the Sarnia Observer, December 4, 1874. It must have represented a novelty to the readers of that paper. Nothing is immediately known of its source other than what is named in the last line.
Spiritism among the Esquimaux
The religion of the Esquimaux is of all curious systems of theology, the most curious. Nevertheless they are not polytheists, demon worshipers, not even idolaters, in the common acceptance of that term. They believe in one supreme deity, whom they call Toongarsoon, their word for the devil, who is of the feminine gender, but whose proper name, if she has one, I could never ascertain. Their god is supposed to reside in a handsome dwelling situated somewhere in the sea. His occupation, according to their notion, is a very benevolent one, for he is said to keep large herds of seals, sea-horses, etc., for the express purpose of providing entertainment for the souls of the good men, which are transported immediately after death to the apartments assigned for him in the marine palace where his godship resides. A large apartment of this place is said to be fitted up with cooking apparatus, on the most extensive scale; pots and kettles of such dimensions that walruses, sea unicorns, seals, etc., in large numbers are boiled or baked therein every day to furnish a perpetual feast for the happy spirits of deceased Esquimaux hunters, or such of them as behaved themselves with tolerable propriety while in the flesh. Hence it will appear that the Esquimaux heaven consists of a never ending feast of fat things, an eternity of well cooked walrus meat and seal’s blubber.
The devil (a female one, remember) is supposed to be an unworthy sister of the divine, Toongarsoon. She resides at some distance from her brother’s palace, on an island, where she takes charge of deceased sinners, who, under her domestic management, fare worse if possible than the inmates of some of the cheap boarding-houses in New York. In fact, these delinquent spirits suffer the pangs of starvation, and their cries and shrieks of agony are often heard above the howling of the arctic gales and the angry war of the mountain torrents. — Prof. Sountage’s Narrative, etc.
This article exemplifies the habit of non-Native writers of the past for finding Native practices remarkable if also somewhat ridiculous. “Superstitious Indians” appeared in the Winnipeg Free Press, January 6, 1894. It was reprinted from the Boston Transcript. Although the writer uses the first-person singular, his name is not given.
Superstitious Indians One Reason Why Missionaries Make So Little Progress
North of the Lake of the Woods lies a region which is as yet unpenetrated by the lines of travel. In this section, perhaps, more than any other in British America, the Indians deserve the name which even the Crees about Lake Winnipeg apply to them, “Heathen Indians.” During a visit to the eastern shore of Lake Winnipeg I saw some of these Indians, and our inspector of Indian agencies, the Hon. Ebenezer McColl, gave me many particulars concerning their customs.
Among these natives flourishes unabated the superstitious belief in the power of the medicine men. These artful old conjurers, more interested in extorting from the people their living than in their advancement, prejudice them against all inroads of teachers or missionaries, and by their monotonous incantations and weird ceremonies frighten them into following their advice. Into this order both men and women are initiated at any time from childhood to extreme age. A variety of rites attend upon this initiation. In one order it is the custom to demand of candidates certain sacrifices before admitting them into the sacred precincts of the medicine lodge; then food and drink are dealt out. After partaking of these they immediately retire to some secluded place, miles from the village, where fasting and sleeping, they pass from one to ten days according to their powers of endurance. During these protracted fastings the good and evil spirits visit them, showing not only the good and evil they are empowered to do in after life, but designating the object, either animate or inanimate, to which they must look for assistance.
From these visiting spirits they claim to receive instructions in the most commonplace affairs, even in the number and variety of the poles used in the constructing of the conjuring tent are designated. Those who fast the longest are the “biggest medicine,” and claim that, in the latest days of their fast, is imparted to them much more information than they received at first, their patient endurance having proved them worthy. These revelations are to be kept secret throughout life. Should they happen to be disclosed, their virtue is destroyed, and all power given is lost. When the initiates return to their lodges, each is given two swallows of a drink in a birch-bark cup, and about the same quantity of food. No more is allowed (although they are starving in sight of plenty), until a half-day has elapsed, when they are at liberty to appease their hunger. — Boston Transcript.
W.E.H. Stokes is the author of the strongly argued article “Saskatchewan’s Indians