Immigrant Arrival (#atozchallenge)

     

A statue of Tawanka, a chief of the Lenni Lenape, stands in front of Macy's (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

         Often we might think of Manhattan as the landing point for immigrants to the United States.  Throughout the 19th and 20th centuries new arrivals were processed at Ellis Island within sight of the Statue of Liberty.  When they were allowed to set foot in their new homeland, a good many of them went to Manhattan first.  J. Lenni Dorner provides a twist in the immigrant arrival story with a story about what might be considered the first immigrants in Manhattan.                         

MANHATTAN

        This story was told around the corn fire by two of the Grandfathers. The Lenni-Lenape nation was dubbed "The Grandfathers" because they are the oldest of the Algonquian people and known for their wisdom. For those of you who don't know, the Lenni-Lenape were not a migrant nation. (The Lenni-Lenape have as much in common with Navajo as the 16th century Japanese had in common with the French.) (And no, I will not be referring to my people as "Delaware.")

The Lenape nation has three divisions, indicated by the Turtle, Turkey, and Wolf. The word "Manhattan" is a combination of the dialect used by the tribes and the spelling and alterations given by the Dutch. (There was no translate app 400 years ago, kids!) Enough prologue, onto the story.

"I have spoken with the Paleface Man. He claims his people traveled the big water to find peace. They wish to worship a sky god, about who they are glad to tell stories. Their leader had a bear spirit who could not hibernate. He chased all the birds from the forest so they could not sing to the sky god."

I look to my friend. "Are those your words, or the words of the Paleface Man?"

"His, I believe. He does not speak well. I think the trip on the big water has salted their minds."

I nod. "Will more come?"

"Yes. He says more must come. The sky god commands it. Some will travel back across the big water to bring more, in fact."

"It must be difficult to leave home and journey so far. They must have a place to call their own. A place where they can worship the sky god. We should give them protection, but independence. Unless they cast spells. Their use of names without fear of witchcraft on their soul is dangerous."

"They know so little of our world," my friend says. "Perhaps a place easy for the other palefaces to find. The people seem fond of where the Great Turtle let their floating home met ground. Beans and seeds were brought with them, so surely they know how to farm."

"They need to be able to farm, hunt, and fish in the area we allow them to settle. The palefaces want to provide for their own, which is good."

"If the home is a gift, they will not take it."

"Exactly. They do not trust the gifts of welcome we have given. They prefer their own way. Gifts were treated as trade, though what they gave has no function." My friend and I think on this. It is quiet for a long while.

"We cannot tell them where to live," I say at last. "That would make us no better than the bear leader they fled from. The wise course would be to get them to offer us a trade. The lower area of (Manahaxtanànk) Manhattan is of little use for our needs. It would suit them well. The area that would separate our peoples is easy enough for all to discern. If they agree to live there and leave our nation in peace, we will trade it to them."

"Land is alive. How can we claim to trade it?"

"They worship only a sky god," I remind my friend. "We can tell them that land is their own, and they will believe it to be so. You see how they are, acting as if all life is inferior. They would change the course of a river if it suited them."

"Wise leader, no one can change the course of a river."

I shake my head. "Though you have spent time among them, you have yet to know them. They do not hear when they think. Much danger comes from their minds. Perhaps a bear spirit is in all of them. Yes, I believe they could change a river. And they would command a mountain to move and the sun to always be overhead. We shall convince them that settling Manhattan is best for all of us. They must be kept close enough to watch, but not so close as to be a danger."

"Will you convince them?"

I sigh. "No, my friend. That duty must be yours. They fear speaking with a leader who carries a life." I rub my belly. A tiny kick greets my hand. "I shall speak to our Wolf and Turtle leaders."

And so it came to pass. Those with skin unable to protect itself from the sun would, indeed, ask for land. The lower part of the island, which became known as Manhattes, was offered. A popular legend is that the Dutch leader asked for land the size of a bull hide. It seemed too small an area for one to live, but the Lenni-Lenape leaders agreed that if this was all the land wanted, that it would be granted. The Dutchman then cut the hide into fine strips and wove it into a long rope. This was how they first marked the edge of their settlement. (For more details on THAT version of the story, please refer to: http://amzn.to/1RUuRpr )

More land would be asked for as the years passed. Then the asking stopped and the slaughter and slavery began. But it was, at first, a peaceful trade. 

       My thanks to J for this Manhattan story.  Be sure to visit the blog of J. Lenni Dorner to read the A to Z series which discusses the craft of writing fiction with a month full of #WriteTips.