With regard to the religious rites and tenets of the Caribs but little can be said, for but little is known with any degree of truth. They appear to have an idea that death was not a final extinction of being; but that the soul (or rather souls, for it was the general opinion among them that every pulse that beat in their bodies was a separate soul) went to another world, where they enjoyed themselves very much after the manner they did in this, and that their bows and arrows were as necessary there as here. For this reason they buried the weapons in the graves of their friends, and inhumed several captives with them, that they might have attendants in “the land of spirits.” Some authors assert that they acknowledged one great universal Cause, to whom they gave the name of “Mayboya,” who was invisible to them, but who watched their actions, and heard their words; that this being possessed an irresistible power; and that subordinate to him were many other gods. Other writers, however, maintain that the Caribs had not even a name for a deity; and that after death they believed they decayed away like the animals they were acquainted with. Which was the fact is a matter of surmise; but Columbus mentions that in several of their huts were seen little altars composed of banana leaves and rushes, and that upon these were laid offerings of fruit, fish, flowers, &c. It seems probable that their religious principles were like those of other savages, suggested rather by the dread of impending evils, than gratitude for favours received. “We can all forget benefits, although we implore mercy,” was their motto.
Some of the Caribs pretended to be magicians, and worshipped demons with rites and ceremonies of the darkest superstition: these people were termed Boyez, and in them was placed implicit faith. Upon the discovery of these islands, the Spaniards endeavoured to convert the natives to Christianity; but the means used to accomplish this were diametrically opposite to what they ought to have been. Instead of setting it forth as a doctrine of love and mercy, and inculcating its precepts with mildness and humanity, they shewed at once the bloody tenets of the church of Rome, and condemned those to the stake who did not immediately subscribe to their opinions.
This manner of proceeding, instead of converting the Caribs, only fixed firmer in their minds their dislike to the intruders; they witnessed their quarrels among themselves, their ferocious and implacable resentments, their insatiable thirst after gold, and the cruelties they perpetrated in searching after that metal. Can it be wondered at, then, that they did not believe the superiority of the Christian religion, as taught by the Spaniards, over their own? or that the rites of baptism, which they could not understand or appreciate, were despised by them?
One of these unhappy people being condemned to be burnt for his attempts to save his country from the encroachments of its conquerors, was promised, by a Roman-catholic priest, admittance into heaven if he would only embrace the Christian faith before he died. “Are there any Spaniards in that region of bliss you tell me of?” inquired the unhappy victim. “Yes,” replied the priest; “but only such as are good.”—“Then I will never go there, where I may meet with one of that accursed race; for the best of them have neither worth nor goodness.” And from the cruel treatment these islanders met with, there was but too much reason in this exclamation.
[[101]] Some authors assert that this is only vanity in the French; that they think so highly of themselves, that even in the interesting point of being eaten, they will not allow the pre-eminence to other nations.
[[102]] “The New Zealanders are perpetually carrying on war with each other, to which they are stimulated, not by thirst of conquest, but by the desire of eating the flesh of their antagonists!”—See Prichard’s “Researches.”
END OF VOL. I.
T. C. Savill, Printer, 107, St. Martin’s Lane.