What the French actually recorded at the Grand Village of the Natchez, who told them, and why “we know” is weaker than it sounds

Every other site in this series is an argument from dirt.

We measure. We date. We look at what was deposited and where, and we reason toward what people were doing. It’s disciplined work and it’s often right, but it is inference, and the thing being inferred what a ceremony meant, who stood where, why anyone bothered leaves almost no residue.

The Grand Village of the Natchez is different. Europeans were standing there while it was still running, and they wrote it down.

That makes this the control case for the entire subject. It also, as it turns out, complicates the idea of a control case considerably.

The site

The Grand Village sits on St. Catherine Creek, a small tributary of the Mississippi, inside the modern city of Natchez, Mississippi. A hundred and twenty-eight acres, a National Historic Landmark, maintained by the Mississippi Department of Archives and History. Admission is free.

Three mounds remain. Archaeologists originally labeled them A, B, and C; they’re now called the Abandoned Mound, the Sun Mound, and the Temple Mound. The Sun and Temple Mounds have been excavated and rebuilt to their original dimensions. The Abandoned Mound has only been partially excavated.

French maps and written descriptions record a cluster of six mounds on that creek bank.

The Natchez and their ancestors occupied southwest Mississippi from roughly AD 700 to 1730. The Grand Village was their principal ceremonial center from about 1682 to 1730 which is to say, for exactly the period Europeans were present to see it.

In the late nineteenth century, researchers named the mound group after the plantation that had been established across much of the site. Fatherland. The owners farmed part of it.

The witness

Antoine-Simon Le Page du Pratz was an educated, well-off veteran of the War of the Spanish Succession who came to Louisiana wanting a pleasant life on a plantation in an interesting place.

In 1720, he bought a cabin and four hundred acres from the Natchez, on the trail between the new Fort Rosalie and the main Natchez village. He lived there for years, learned the language, and became a close friend of the war chief.

He published late. Mémoire sur la Louisiane appeared in installments in a Paris periodical between 1751 and 1753; the three-volume Histoire de la Louisiane followed in 1758. An English translation came out in 1774.

The Histoire contains extended ethnographic description of the Natchez, along with engravings including the funeral procession and the people offering themselves for sacrifice.

He was not the only one. Priests, soldiers, and officials wrote accounts. Alexandre de Batz, an architect and illustrator working along the Mississippi, drew the Natchez and their temple. A seminarian named Jean-François Buisson de Saint-Cosme lived with them from 1700 to 1706. The French also witnessed a funeral for an unnamed female chief in 1704.

Now the part that should make you careful

Du Pratz received much of his information from a Chitimacha woman, an enslaved girl he acquired.

Sit with the layers in that.

The most detailed eyewitness ethnography of a living North American mound society was written by a French colonial planter, decades after the fact, from notes and memory, for a European reading public, about a people his own nation had by then destroyed and a substantial portion of what he knew came to him through a woman he owned, from a different nation, whose name is not recorded.

That does not make the account worthless. It is still, by an enormous margin, the best record we have of mound ceremonialism from someone who watched it happen. But “we have the answer written down” is too clean. What we have is testimony, filtered through a specific man with specific interests, arriving partly through an enslaved intermediary who had her own reasons and her own gaps.

Every source has a position. The unusual thing here isn’t that du Pratz had one, it’s that we can see it.

What they recorded

With that caveat in place, here is what the French describe.

The ruler. The paramount chief was called the Great Sun – Yak-stalchil in Natchez. He lived in a house on top of one of the mounds.

The temple. A second mound carried a structure the French called a temple. Rectangular, of similar construction to the Great Sun’s house, with three bird sculptures on the roof. Inside its inner sanctum burned a perpetual fire, symbolizing the sun from which the royal family descended. Eight keepers maintained it. It burned day and night, continuously, and only the leadership and those keepers could enter.

The temple was also a charnel house, holding the remains of chiefs and high-ranking officials. There were two of them, in fact, the French distinguished an “old” temple and a “new” one.

Where power came from. The Natchez were matrilineal. The Great Sun held his position because of the rank of his mother, the Female Sun. Her daughter would be the mother of the next Great Sun, which kept the chiefdom inside a single lineage permanently.

Tattooed Arm (Bras Piqué) was the Female Sun in this period, mother of the Great Sun who took office in 1728, daughter of the previous Female Sun who died in 1704.

Note what that means about the war chief’s job too. Tattooed Serpent (Obalalkabiche) was not a name. It was an office, always held by the Great Sun’s younger brother, and the man who held it was marked with a serpent tattoo circling his body from foot to mouth. The Tattooed Serpent who died in 1725 had been preceded by his own maternal uncle, who held the same title until 1700, and was succeeded by his sister’s second-eldest son, who took the same name.

I want to flag a connection here. In New Mexico, DNA from Room 33 at Pueblo Bonito indicated an elite matriline holding a central position for roughly three hundred and thirty years. That finding required ancient genomics and it’s still argued about.

At Natchez, a Frenchman just asked.

The calendar. Thanksgiving to their Supreme Being at every new moon. Two great festivals: the Deer Feast at the start of the year in spring, and the Feast of Maize at the seventh moon, at harvest.

The plaza. The open ground between the Great Sun’s Mound and the Temple Mound hosted ball games, feasts, dances, and ceremonies. Du Pratz described a celebration dance as a single drummer at the center, ringed by a circle of women, with an outer circle beyond.

The funeral

In the spring of 1725, the Tattooed Serpent died, and du Pratz was there.

He describes the body on a bed of state: dressed in his finest clothing, face painted with vermilion, moccasined as if for a journey, wearing a crown of white feathers mixed with red. His weapons tied to the bed, bow, quiver, war club. Around him, every calumet he had received in his lifetime. And planted nearby, a large pole, peeled and painted red, hung with a chain of reddened cane splints: forty-six links, one for each enemy he had killed.

Those who would accompany him into death were in the cabin with him. The favorite wife. A second wife from another village. His chancellor, his doctor, his head servant, his pipe bearer, and some old women.

Eight of his retainers were strangled.

And then the moment that I cannot stop thinking about.

The Great Sun – the ruler of the Natchez, du Pratz’s friend decided to follow his brother into death.

Du Pratz and several other colonists stopped him. Physically talked him out of it.

A noblewoman, a friend of the Tattooed Serpent and renowned for her knowledge of medicine, could not be dissuaded. A child was also selected. The members of the household died.

And the Tattooed Serpent’s wife was amused by the Frenchmen’s objections. She insisted she was dying joyfully.

I’m not going to tell you what to make of that. I’ll tell you that it is the single most vertiginous passage in any source I’ve read for this series, two worldviews standing in the same room, one of them horrified, the other one laughing at the horror, and both of them recorded by a man who counted himself a friend to the people he was watching.

The detail that changes every other episode

Here is the line, from the plain archaeological summary of the site.

Besides the two chiefs, only a few people lived at the ceremonial center.

Most Natchez lived dispersed, in small villages across the countryside, farming, in permanent dwellings. They came to the Grand Village for occasions.

Stop and consider what that does to the rest of this series.

At Pinson Mounds in Tennessee, archaeologists worked for decades to establish that nobody lived there, proving an absence, which is the hardest thing in the discipline. At Pueblo Bonito, six hundred and fifty or eight hundred rooms have produced fifty to sixty burials, and specialists are still arguing about what that means.

At Natchez, the French watched the pattern operate and wrote it down. Dispersed residence, periodic gathering, monumental center maintained by a tiny resident staff.

And more: each Natchez village had its own temple, on its own mound. The Grand Village wasn’t the only mound site. It was the paramount one in a system of them.

That is not proof that Pinson and Chaco worked the same way. Different peoples, different centuries, different continents’ worth of cultural distance. But it is documented proof that the pattern archaeologists keep inferring is a real thing that real societies in North America actually did.

The inference has an eyewitness. That’s rare, and it’s worth knowing.

Moncacht-Apé

One more thing du Pratz recorded, which almost nobody talks about.

He met a Yazoo man named Moncacht-Apé, who told him he had traveled to the Pacific Coast and back, likely in the late seventeenth or early eighteenth century.

Through Moncacht-Apé, du Pratz recorded oral traditions held by peoples of the West Coast. Among them: an account of the first people reaching North America by a land bridge from Asia.

Recorded in Louisiana, in the 1720s, from a Native traveler relaying Native tradition.

I’m going to be careful here, because this is exactly the kind of thing that gets inflated. The account comes to us through du Pratz, decades later, in a book written for a French audience, and every filter I described above applies to it. Scholars have debated whether Moncacht-Apé’s journey happened as described.

But the record exists, it’s in the Histoire, and it’s public domain. You can read it yourself and decide.

Du Pratz also learned, from the guardian of one of the temples, a Natchez account of their own past: that the Natchez appeared in the east, migrated west, and finally returned east to the loess bluffs of the Mississippi.

A migration tradition, from the temple keeper, written down by a neighbor.

What the French thought of themselves

Du Pratz once asked the Tattooed Serpent why the Natchez resented the French.

The answer, as du Pratz records it, was that the French seemed to have two hearts, a good one today, and tomorrow a bad one.

What happened

The French founded Fort Rosalie in 1716, on the bluff above the river landing, in the middle of Natchez country. Violence flared in 1716 and again in 1723.

The Natchez split into pro-French and pro-British factions. The Grand Village faction, under the Great Sun and the Tattooed Serpent, wanted the French alliance. Other villages, particularly White Apple, did not.

Then the deaths. The Tattooed Serpent in 1725, the elder Great Sun in 1728. Their successor (a nephew) was young, and the chief of White Apple became the senior Sun chief with more real influence than the man now holding the title.

The French, meanwhile, insisted on treating the Natchez as a unified nation ruled from its capital, and holding the new Great Sun responsible for the conduct of every Natchez village. That was not how the Natchez were organized, and it was never going to work.

In November 1729, the Natchez attacked Fort Rosalie and the surrounding plantations. Most of the French men there were killed; women and children were taken captive.

The French response ran for two years, with allied Indigenous nations. Mass killings. Repeated campaigns. On January 21, 1731, the French attacked the Natchez stronghold at White Apple. On the 24th the Natchez offered peace; chiefs who came to negotiate were lured into a cabin and taken prisoner. On the 25th, forty-five men and four hundred fifty women and children surrendered. The rest escaped that night.

Tattooed Arm, the Female Sun, had tried to warn the French of the attack in advance.

Saint-Domingue

The prisoners were taken to New Orleans and sold.

French colonial archives record four hundred thirty-eight Natchez enslaved, of whom fifty-one died before boarding the ship. Other accounts give the number sent to Saint-Domingue as three hundred, or “over two hundred.” The deportation was ordered by the French prime minister, Maurepas.

Saint-Domingue is modern Haiti. They did not come back.

The scholarship on this is thin and recent; Noel Smyth’s work at UC Santa Cruz is the main modern treatment. His assessment is blunt: the Natchez sent to Haiti have descendants who almost certainly identify as Haitian, and the story of the enslaved Natchez is one of dispossession, social death, and archival erasure.

There is a Natchez diaspora in the Caribbean that has never been traced.

The second erasure

Now the part that belongs to this series specifically.

John Swanton, a Smithsonian ethnologist, wrote the standard study of the Natchez. Of the seventy pages he devoted to Natchez history after European contact, sixty-five cover 1682 to 1731. Five pages cover 1731 to 1910.

Swanton believed the Natchez were practically extinct.

Smithsonian researchers of that era were interviewing living Natchez speakers. Five of them are named in the record: Creek Sam, Wat Sam, Charlie Jumper, Lizzie Rooster, and Nancy Taylor.

The historian Noel Smyth has put the problem directly: after 1731 the French chased the survivors into the woods, “where they disappeared forever” and centuries of inaccurate and sometimes romanticized narratives have acted as an effective erasure of Natchez history ever since. Natchez people survived adversity and multiple displacements for over two hundred years, and most European and American thinkers have clung to a narrative of disappearance that continues to harm Natchez people today.

That is the thing to take from this page. The Mound Builder Myth said the builders were a vanished race. At Natchez, the myth got a second run, the builders were real Native people, everyone agreed on that, and so the story became that those specific people ceased to exist.

Same function. Different mechanism. Both of them clear the ground.

They are still here

Survivors fled northwest and lived among the Chickasaw. In the 1740s they moved again, settling among the Creek and the Cherokee. By 1741 they had established a town in the northern part of the Upper Creek Nation, with permission from the Abihka, and reconstituted it.

They were signatories to the Treaty of New York in 1790 and the Treaty of Colerain in 1796. They remain a constituent tribe of the Muscogee Creek Nation.

Natchez also settled along the Hiwassee River in North Carolina, with a main town near present-day Murphy around 1755, and another group near the Tellico River, a place still called Notchy Creek. The Cherokee leader Dragging Canoe was born there. His mother was Natchez.

In the 1830s, most Natchez living among the Cherokee were forced west on the Trail of Tears. A few stayed in North Carolina; their descendants are part of the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians.

Today most Natchez descendants are in Oklahoma, enrolled in the Cherokee Nation and the Muscogee Creek Nation. The Natchez Nation exists as a treaty tribe and confederate of the Muscogee Creek Nation, with a sovereign traditional government, and is working toward federal recognition. Two state-recognized tribes in South Carolina identify as Natchez-descended.

Three hundred years after a French prime minister ordered them sold, there are people whose grandmothers told them they were Natchez.


There is one mound center in America where we don’t have to guess. Somebody was there, taking notes.. a slaveholding French planter, writing decades later, using information from a woman he owned. He recorded the fire that never went out, the eight who tended it, the line that power ran through, and the day he stopped a ruler from killing himself.

Then his nation destroyed the people he was writing about, sold the survivors to Haiti, and a century and a half later a Smithsonian ethnologist gave their entire post-1731 existence five pages, while his colleagues sat across a table from five living Natchez speakers.

Every conquered society gets its architecture reassigned. It happened here.

Ask yourself where else it’s happened.

There is a country buried underneath this one. And you’re standing on it right now.


GO LOOK FOR YOURSELF

Mississippi Department of Archives and History, the official site page:
https://www.mdah.ms.gov/explore-mississippi/grand-village-natchez-indians

64 Parishes on the Natchez – the clearest short account of the mound group and the ceremonial center:
https://64parishes.org/entry/natchez-indians

The Natchez Nation’s own page, including du Pratz’s account of the 1725 funeral and the Great Sun’s attempted suicide:
https://www.backyardnature.net/loess/ind_natz.htm

Noel Smyth, “Natchez in Saint-Domingue, 1731–1791” – the archival work on the deportation, with the 438 and 51 figures:
https://oieahc.wm.edu/wp-content/uploads/SMYTH-Natchez-in-Saint-Domingue-1731-1791.pdf

Smyth, “‘The End of the Natchez’? A Genealogy of Historical, Literary and Ethnographic Narratives” – the Swanton page-count analysis and the case that the disappearance narrative is itself the harm:
https://www.se.edu/native-american/wp-content/uploads/sites/49/2019/09/A-NAS-2013-Proceedings-Smyth.pdf

The Natchez Diaspora project at UC Humanities Research Institute:
https://uchri.org/awards/the-natchez-diaspora-a-history-of-indigenous-displacement-and-survival-in-the-atlantic-world/

The primary source, free:

Le Page du Pratz, The History of Louisiana – the 1774 English translation of the Histoire. Public domain. Search archive.org by title. This is where the funeral description, the engravings, the Moncacht-Apé account, and the Natchez migration tradition live. Read the man yourself rather than taking anyone’s summary, including mine.

 

 

Tony Vortex
S.T.E.M. Researcher & Teacher | Healer - Tony is the Spiritual Son to the beloved Dr. Delbert Blair. At age 11 he began to study plant life and their healing mechanisms as it bothered him deeply to see so many older family members needlessly sick. Throughout the years he has been sharing what he knows so that others may live a life full of abundance while exploring its mysteries.

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