A Further Contribution to the Study of the Mortuary Customs of the North American Indians

In Short

This ethnographic work serves as an expansive survey of the diverse funeral practices observed among North American Indigenous tribes in the nineteenth century. By documenting methods ranging from earth burial and mummification to aerial sepulture and cremation, the text functions as a preservationist record of customs that were rapidly fading under colonial expansion. Through its systematic categorization and reliance on firsthand reports from surgeons, explorers, and missionaries, it provides an invaluable—if period-bound—glimpse into the spiritual traditions, mourning rituals, and complex social obligations that defined the relationship between the living and the dead.

The Story

The text begins by establishing a comprehensive taxonomy of death. It posits that burial is not merely a disposal of remains, but a cultural expression. The narrative moves through various methods of interment: the commonality of pit and grave burials; the specialized use of stone cists and burial mounds; and the environmental adaptations seen in cave or aquatic burials. As the study progresses, it shifts from the physical act of burial to the social and spiritual significance of the rites. It details the preparation of the corpse, the use of grave goods, and the necessity of funeral feasts, framing these not as primitive superstitions, but as organized, meaningful traditions.

The arc of the study then reaches into the more harrowing or exoticized practices of the time, such as the sacrifice of slaves or the preservation of the dead in charnel houses. The author takes care to contextualize these practices by comparing them to ancient Mediterranean or African customs, often noting that the emotional weight of grief is universal. As the documentation reaches the Pacific Northwest and the burial practices of the Eskimo and other northern peoples, the focus shifts to the permanence of these memorials, such as the painting of burial boxes and the use of scaffolds.

The final movement of the text addresses the internal life of the mourner. It catalogs the songs, dances, and games—such as the "ghost gamble" of the Sioux—that accompany the mourning period. It also highlights the "Golgothas" of the Mandan, where the living maintained an ongoing, conversational relationship with the remains of their ancestors. The text concludes by reflecting on the inevitable erosion of these customs, noting how the encroachment of Christianity and sedentary life altered or extinguished the very practices it spent so many pages describing. Throughout the work, the author maintains a clinical, analytical distance, yet he is clearly driven by an urgent desire to record a disappearing world before the last practitioners of these rites have passed away, leaving the reader with a sense of the fragility of cultural memory.

How It Unfolds

The classification of death The author begins by establishing a rigorous structure, categorizing burial methods into types ranging from simple inhumation to complex mound and urn burials. This initial phase sets the tone for a methodical exploration of how different environments and social structures dictate the treatment of the deceased.

The architecture of the grave The text moves into detailed descriptions of physical sites, such as the stone cists of Tennessee or the circular mounds found in Florida. Here, the focus is on the material culture of the grave, documenting what objects were left behind and why.

The rites of the living The middle section pivots from the corpse to the mourner, exploring the social obligations and public displays of grief. It details how families supported one another and how they honored the dead through offerings of food, fires, and sustained lamentations.

The spiritual geography of the soul The final beats delve into the cosmological beliefs that inform these practices, such as the journey to the "happy hunting-ground" or the necessity of providing for the spirit's needs. The study concludes with a reflection on how these deeply held superstitions give way to modern influences, marking the end of a tradition.

The People

Because this is a scholarly survey rather than a narrative, the "characters" are the various groups and observers whose lives the author chronicles. The Indigenous peoples—the Pimas, the Mandan, the Sioux, and others—are the central figures, characterized by their diverse, deliberate, and often stoic adherence to tradition. They want, above all, to honor their dead in accordance with the mandates of their ancestors, often facing intense social pressure or the encroachment of white settlers who view their customs with misunderstanding.

The ethnographic observers, such as Captain F. E. Grossman, George Catlin, and the various surgeons and agents who provide the reports, act as intermediaries. They are driven by an academic curiosity to document these practices, yet they are often caught between their own cultural biases and a growing respect for the resilience of the tribes they observe. Finally, the author himself serves as the organizing intelligence. He is a Victorian-era scientist who desires to categorize human experience, standing apart from his subjects to ensure that their "fortitude and resignation" are recorded for posterity. While the tribes struggle to maintain their heritage, the author struggles to classify a reality that is already slipping away, leaving both the observed and the observer as figures in a historical transition.

In Its Own Voice

"We are told in the Old Testament Scriptures, 'four days and four nights should the fires burn,' &c. In fulfillment of this sacred injunction, we find the midnight vigil carefully kept by these Indians four days and four nights at the graves of their departed."

This passage reflects the author's frequent attempt to find commonality between Indigenous mourning rituals and the traditions of his own culture.

"There is scarcely an hour in a pleasant day but more or less of these women may be seen sitting or lying by the skull of their child or husband, talking to it in the most pleasant and endearing language that they can use (as they were wont to do in former days), and seemingly getting an answer back."

The author uses this observation to describe the profound and ongoing connection maintained by Mandan women with their deceased relatives.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an investigation into the universal human need to bridge the gap between the living and the dead. It argues that the disparate, often startling funeral customs of North American tribes are not random curiosities, but logical, deeply moral responses to the finality of death. By cataloging these practices, the work asks a fundamental question: how do societies maintain their identity when their members are lost? It explores the tension between material necessity—such as the burial of tools or food—and spiritual belief, framing the funeral as the ultimate test of a society's value system. Ultimately, the work is a meditation on the persistence of memory and the ways in which a culture’s respect for its ancestors defines its own intrinsic worth.

Why Read It Today

This book is a rewarding, if challenging, experience for readers interested in the history of anthropology or the specific customs of the American frontier. It feels like stepping into a nineteenth-century study, surrounded by hand-copied reports, field notes, and Victorian-era prose that is both formal and occasionally moralizing. Modern readers will need to navigate the author's nineteenth-century lens, which often compares Indigenous customs to the "Old Testament" or classifies them through a colonial framework of "advancement" or "superstition." Despite these dated attitudes, the book possesses a haunting, visceral power. The sheer volume of specific detail—from the way a child is wrapped in a blanket to the specific materials used to build a scaffold—creates a vivid, lingering image of a world that is no longer accessible. It is not an easy read, as the text is densely packed with citations and technical descriptions of excavation, but for those who value the preservation of human experience, it remains a vital, sobering record. It captures the quiet, persistent, and deeply human efforts to maintain dignity in the face of loss, leaving a resonant, if melancholy, impression that lingers long after the final page.