Among other amusements, in addition to their own native sports of running, wrestling, and leaping [FN]—their dances and songs—their sacrifices, and other festivals of war and of thanksgiving—the Six Nations had adopted from the whites the popular game of ball, or cricket. Indeed, so much attached were they to this manly exercise, that the game had become national throughout the Confederacy; and it was no uncommon thing for one nation to challenge another to play a match—upon a much larger scale, beyond doubt, than was ever practised among the pale-faces.
[FN] Mary Jemison states that these athletic games and exercises were practised, not only that their bodies might become more supple, or rather that they might not become enervated, but that they might be enabled to make proper selection of chiefs for the councils of the nation and leaders for war.
A game of this kind was commenced on one occasion, in the year 1794, between the young Mohawks and Senecas, which was well nigh attended with fatal consequences. The Mohawks were the challengers. After the game had proceeded for a considerable time, one of the Mohawks, in a struggle with a Seneca for a stroke at the ball, struck his antagonist a sharp blow with his bat. The occurrence having been observed by the players, the Senecas dropped their bats instantly, to a man, and retired to their posts with silent, though evident resentment. Without speaking a word, but with bosoms heaving with indignation, they took up the stakes they had deposited, and retired to their own country, on the upper waters of the Genesee, toward the northern spur of the Alleghenies. About three weeks subsequent to the occurrence, a Seneca messenger arrived at the Mohawk village, dispatched thither by Red Jacket, the Corn-planter, and others, complaining of the insult, demanding satisfaction for the affront, and denouncing war in case of refusal. The Mohawks, feeling that they were in the wrong, were somewhat troubled at the message. Brant convened a council of his chiefs, and after consultation, a message was returned to the Senecas, proposing an amicable meeting of the chiefs of both nations, to confer upon the subject matter of complaint, with a view of healing the wound by compromise and explanation, and of course without bloodshed. The Senecas, anxious to avoid hostilities against a nation with which they had been in alliance so long, acceded to the pacific proposition, and a joint council was the consequence. Red Jacket, however, did all he could to prevent a reconciliation. He delivered an inflammatory speech, laboring with all his art and eloquence to aggravate the insult, and urging his nation to avenge the insult by an appeal to arms. But Captain O'Bail, and some others of the older Seneca chiefs, were for the adoption of a more conciliatory course. They were little moved by the exciting philippic of Red Jacket, and desired nothing more of the Mohawks than a reasonable and honorable atonement for the wrong done to their young warrior by the party offending. The proposition was met with equal magnanimity on the part of the Mohawks, and the result of the council was an adjustment of the difficulty. The calumet was smoked, and the chiefs—all save the disappointed demagogue, Red Jacket—separated upon the most amicable terms. [FN]
[FN] Notes of a visit to Captain Brant, and of conversations with him, by Samuel Woodruff, Esq. of Windsor, Con.
Three years afterward, in the Summer of 1797, another match of cricket was played between the two nations. The Senecas were this time the challengers, but the game was played at the Mohawk village, on the Grand River, and was commenced during the visit of the gentleman to whom Captain Brant had related the particulars of the foregoing unpleasant occurrence. It was, in fact, the conversation naturally flowing from the pending match that led the Chief to speak of the incidents connected with the former. The playing was to commence at 9 o'clock in the morning, and the invitation of Captain Brant to see the amusement, was accepted by his guest.
The place selected for the trial of strength, agility, and skill, was a broad and beautiful green, of perhaps one hundred acres, perfectly level, and smooth as a carpet, without tree or shrub, or stone to encumber it. On one side of the green the Senecas had collected in a sort of irregular encampment—men, women, and children—to the number of more than a thousand. On the other side the Mohawks were actively assembling in yet greater numbers. The stakes deposited by each party were laid upon the ground in heaps, consisting of rifles, hatchets, swords, belts, knives, blankets, wampum, watches, beads, broaches, furs, and a variety of other articles of Indian utility and taste—amounting, in the whole, according to the estimate of Captain Brant, to upward of a thousand dollars a side. By the side of the stakes were seated a group of the aged Chiefs—"grave and reverend seigniors," whose beards had been silvered by the frosts of many winters, and whose visages gave evidence of the toils of war and the chase.
The combatants numbered about six hundred upon a side, young and middle-aged men—nimble of foot, athletic and muscular. Their countenances beamed with animation and high hope. In order to the free and unfettered use of their sinewy limbs, their persons were naked with the exception of a single garment like an apron, or kilt, fastened around the waist, and descending nearly to the knee. The area of the play-ground was designated by two pair of "byes," placed at about thirty rods distant from each other, and the goals of each pair about thirty feet apart. The combatants ranged themselves in parallel lines on each side of the area, facing inward, and leaving a space between them of about ten rods in breadth. Their bats were three feet six inches in length, curved at the lower end somewhat in the form of a ladle, the broad part for striking the ball being formed of net-work, woven of thongs of untanned deer-skin, strained to the tension of tight elasticity. The ball, large as a middling-sized apple, was also composed of elastic materials.
On one side of the area, near the centre of the line, and in a conspicuous place, were seated a body of elderly sachems, of each nation, with knives and tally-sticks, to score the game. The rules governing the game were somewhat intricate. None of the players were allowed to touch the ball with hand or foot, until driven beyond the "byes" or land-marks. It was then thrown back by hand toward or into the centre of the area, when the game proceeded as before. Their mode of counting the game was peculiar, the tallies-men not being in all cases bound by arbitrary rules, but left to the exercise of a certain degree of discretionary power. Each passage of the ball between the goals, at the end of the play-ground, counted one, so long as the contest was nearly equal; but, for the purpose of protracting the game, whenever one party became considerably in advance of the other, the tally-chiefs were allowed to check or curtail their count in proportion to the excess. For instance, if the leading party had run up a regular count to thirty, while their opponents had numbered but fifteen, the tallies-men, at their discretion, and by consent of each other, though unknown to the players, would credit the winning party with only two notches for three passages of the ball—varying from time to time, according to the state of the game. The object of this course was to protract the game, and to increase the amusement, while despondency upon either side was prevented, and the chance of ultimate victory increased. Frequently, by this discretionary mode of counting, the game was continued three or four days.