The Great Plains stretched like a sea of grass from the valleys of Saskatchewan to the river basins of Texas, forming the opposite of the plateau that you could find in Eurasia. It's an endless horizon, broken only by the rise of the distant buttes, the curve of a river,
occasional thunder of hooves across the prairie. For centuries before the arrival of Europeans, this region was the heartbeat of a dozen distinct people's, hunter gatherers, barbarous traders whose lives rose and fell in rhythm with the seasons, and, above all, as we'll see, the buffalo, and a long time before memory. The people of this region lived in woodlands and river valleys along the banks of the Missouri and the Platts rivers.
The shelters were round earth and conical, typus of buffalo hides. They planted corn, beans, and squash along the river bottoms, and the women worked digging sticks with flint hose while the children sang in the tall grass. Archaeological records suggest that by one thousand of the Common Era, large semi sedentary farming communities such as the Mandan, Hidasta and the
Arika were thriving along the Upper Missouri River. These villages were known for their massive, round earth lodges, some more than forty feet across, clustered like honey chromes across the prairie. These were not on the homes, but centers of trade and ritual. Corn, as elsewhere, were central and sacred here by sensing a theme at this point through these episodes, grown dried ground and stored in the large catch pits that dotted the village floor. Ceremonies honoring the corn mother
were central to spiritual life. Considered the following quote. When I was a girl, an elder Akira woman might have said, her hands moving rignically over a basket of corn kennels, we're plant by the stars by the rising of the Pleiades. The corn was not just food, It was our sister. We sang to it. We buried the fresh ears and the ground with prayers for the dead, for from the earth we come, and to the earth we return. To
the west and south. Other groups, the Commanche, the Apache, the Cheyenne, the Kiowa, began to push out into the Central Plains during the late prehistoric period. Some came from the Rockies, others from the far north. The landscape ones dominated by bison, antelope, and elk called them with its wide openness and its promise of mobility. Now, of course, in those early centuries there were no horses. Horses came with Europeans. The buffalo was hunted but on foot, using
drives and ambushes, fire and above all skill. Hunters worked in teams to corral herds into natural traps, box canyons, river bands, where the animals could be brought down with spears and arrows. These hunts were more than survival, They were spiritual endeavors. Consider the following quotation here from the Cherokee. We ran with the buffalo. We sang too the buffalo. We died with the buffalo before the horse. We hunted, as our grandfathers did, on foot, with courage and cunning.
Each animal we took was a gift. We used all of it. The hide for our lodges, the sinew for our bows, the bones for our needles, even the hooves we boiled for glue. End quote. The bison was not merely food, It was identity. It shaped religious cosmology, art, kinship, and myth. Among the Pawnee, buffalo dances were held in
sacred lodges, blending celestial observations with seasonal cycles. Among the Blackfoot, vision quests and sun dances linked individual purification to tribal renewal, often involving sacrifice and endurance to prove one's devotion to the spirit world. The sky wasn't just something to look at overhead to all classical peoples. It was alive, and the Native Americans of North America and the Great Plains
were no different. The Plains tribes lived within a world combined with spirit wa kan as the Lakota called it, the sacred power in all things. Hills and rivers, they had names and personalities. Dreams were portals. Every animal had lessons to teach. Children were taught not through punishment, but by story parables about trickster figures like the kiote, of course, who reflected both human foolishness and divine wisdom. An old Kioa saying goes as follows quote, My father took me
to the hill when I was ten winters old. He said, you will sleep here alone, and the spirits will find you. Ay. The boy fasted for two days. On the third a great bird came to me in a dream that I with a song in my chest. The song has guided me ever since and quote. Each tribe had its sacred rights and bundles, collections of things feathers, bones, stones, and herbs,
bound together with prayer. These were not mere artifacts, but vessels of cosmic power, kept by medicine men or women who served as the link between visible world and the world beyond the world that everybody wonders about whether you're European, whether you're an indigenous to America, or so on and so forth. These people were just connected to it. More then, sometime in the late sixteen hundreds, of the world began
to change. Though Coronado had crossed parts of the Southern Plains in the fifteen forties, his passage left only a ripple, but the Spanish left something behind that would transform planes' lives entirely. The horse. First captured or traded from Spanish herds in New Mexico, horses spread northward like fire on the wind. By the late sixteen hundreds, the command she had not only acquired horses, they had mastered them, becoming one of the most formidable mounted groups the continent had
ever seen. According to one old Cheyenne quote, when the horse came, We became lightning. We could hunt farther, fight harder, ride with the wind. The buffalo fell before us like grass. We were no longer earth bound. We had become part of the storm. End quote. The horse redefined everything, mobility, warfare, trade, even ceremony. It allowed for larger seasonal migrations, increased hunting efficiency,
and transformed the military power balance across the plains. Yet it also introduced new conflicts over grazing, land, water, and access to trade networks, increasingly dominated by French and Spanish intermediaries. By seventeen hundred, the Great Plains were on the brink of a new era. Some tribes, like the Mandan and the Hidasta, still held to their old ways in the
river villages, their corn fields swaying beside the Missouri River. Others, like the command Sheep and Kiowa, had embraced the nomadic horse culture that would define the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. For them. The bison, for the moment, still roamed in vast herds, and the sky remained the roof of the sacred lodge. Of course, as we know, distant forces were
growing near guns, germs, and steel. To say the least, now, we've got a ways to go before we get there, however, and before we do, let's turn our attention to the northeast, to the lands along the Great Lakes. The land of the Great Lakes is complex, vast, and lind Seas stretch beyond the horizon the Superior Huron, Michigan, Erie and Ontario. They link forests, rivers and islands in a watery web
that's far older than the nations of Europe. Here, the peoples of this region, the Nashanabi, Dominie, Sauk, Fox, and others, water was not merely a path or a resource, became a living presence before the first wampum belt was ever woven. Before the French fur traders paddled into these waters, there were stories that were still told in bark lodges all across the region. The stories bound the people to a
land and to one another. Told how the earth was formed on the back of a great turtle, how the great Spirit breathed fire into the wind, and how the
lakes were carved by the footsteps of a giant. By one thousand CEE, the Great Lakes region was a mosaic of linguistic cultural groups, largely Algonquins speaking to the north and east as the Ajibue, the Potawatamie, the Adatoa, Menominee, Sauk and Fox and an Iroquois speaking peoples to the south and east, the Huron and the powerful hodi Ashone Confederacy. Many of these communities lived in villages built near rivers
and lakes. Their dwellings made of elm bark, stretched over bent saplings, long houses for the Iroquois people, dome shaped wigwams for the Algonquins. They practiced agriculture, particularly even this far north. The planting of the Three Sisters, corn, beans, and squash intercropped in mounds that nurtured both the soil and the themselves. Hunting and fishing balanced the rhythm of the seasons. Deer, moose, and beaver were common in the
north Woods. Birch bark canoes, light enough to portage but sturdy enough for the lakes, were crafted with painstaking care and spiritual attention. Every part of the canoe, birch, cedar, spruce, gum, and root lashings was taken with respect. The political world of the Great Lakes was just as dynamic as its ecology.
Warfare alliances and diplomacy shaped the landscape as surely as the retreat as the glaciers had centuries before, the Iroquoisan peoples, especially the Hodi Nashone also called the Iroquois Confederacy, formed one of the most sophisticated political systems in North America. Before the year seventeen hundred, Hodian Shonee, who called themselves the People of the Longhouse, bound together five nations Mohawk, Oneida, Onangada, Cayuga, and Seneca under the Great Law of Peace. If you
go to upstate New York. By the way, right now, those are still the names of the Finger Lakes. This wasn't actually a military alliance, has been somewhat misunderstood as that, but it was a spiritual covenant told through the story of the Peacemaker and Hyawaka, who persuaded warring nations to bury their weapons beneath the tree of Peace. Each nation remained autonomous, but met in a grand council where clan mothers held the power to select and depose male leaders.
Consider the following quotation quote, I saw the womp of belt with my own eyes. Each bead tells the story of peace when we speak in the council. We do not shout. We listen, we wait. We speak only when the words are true and the heart is still end quote. Meanwhile, the ojibwe, A, Dahwa, and Potawatami, known collectively as the Three Fires Confederacy, their own cultural and political alliance, rooted
in shared languages, traditions, and migration stories. They traded wildly, beaver pelts for copper, wild rice for corn, tools for sacred stories, linking villages through complex webs of kinship and ceremony. Spirituality permeated every act of daily life. The world was animate, alive, with beings who walked in both this world and the next. The Midiwin or Grand Medicine society of the Anashabi taught sacred songs, symbols, and healing practices through generations of initiates.
Dreams were never through these societies considered to be idle fantasies. They were considered to be spiritual guides. Ceremonies like the drum dance and fasting visions helped young people discover their own spiritual path. Animals were relatives. Stone could speak if you only knew how to listen. Tobacco was offered before hunts, at graves and during council meetings as a sign of respect. The first sustained European contact with this region of the
United States didn't come with soldiers, but with canoes. In the early sixteen hundreds, it was the French this time, not the Spanish. French voyagers and Jesuit missionaries began to move into the Saint Lawrence and Great Lakes regions, drawn by the riches of fur trade and of course, the promise of spreading Christianity. The Huron, when not residing near Georgian Bay, became key intermediaries in this trade, exchanging furs
for European goods, iron tools, glass beads, and muskets. In return, they provided access to inland territories carried on their shoulders and canoes, and for a time the relationship was fruitful. But new goods brought new dangers. As we know European diseases like smallpox swept through native villages with devastating speed. Were fair intensified, particularly between the Hody and Shone and the Huron, as each group now vied for access to
trade networks and European alliances. By the sixteen forties, the Huron Confederacy had collapsed under pressure from the Iroquois attacks, their villages burned, their survivors scattered. By the turn of the eighteenth century, the Great Lakes world had been transformed. The fur trade reshaped economies and alliances. Guns became tools
of both hunting and war. The Ojibwe, having moved westward into the forests of present day Minnesota and Wisconsin, were expanding their territory in part due to new military strength. The French were building forts Detroit, and the Jesuits continued to press Christianity into Native life, sometimes embraced, often blended with older beliefs, and occasionally resisted outright. Yet despite all of this, the spiritual heart of the Great Lakes peoples endured.
The ceremonies continued, the stories still flowed across the water, passed down with elders. When we think about the Native American cultures of North America First Nations, if you prefer, I think we have to remember just the incredible transformation and change that had taken place in barely two hundred years, when this sort of change hadn't occurred over the previous thousands. When the ships of Columbus first touched Caribbean shores in
fourteen ninety two. They set in motion a cascade of transformation that would ripple across the entire North American continent. For indigenous peoples, the arrival of Europeans was not a single moment, but a series of evolving encounters. Some were gradual, others were explosive. In the early decades, many Native American communities had little or no direct contact with Europeans, Yet diseases like smallpox, measles, and influenza spread far in advance
of European explorers, devastating populations. In some regions, up to ninety percent of inhabitants perished within a generation of first contact, shattering kinship networks, religious traditions, and oral histories before a single missionary or fur trader ever arrived. Consider how devastating we think about the Black Death and losses of European life, depending upon where you were, could have been as low as twenty five percent, maybe as high as sixty six percent.
With Native American cultures, we're talking about ninety percent losses literally across the board. It's a magnitude of difference that I don't think we talk enough about. But even As depopulation and displacement took their toll, native nations adapted with resilience and ingenuity. Trade became one of the earliest and most consequential points of contact, as peoples quickly understood the value of European goods iron tools, cloth, beads, and especially firearms.
In places like the Great Lakes, the Mississippi Valley, and the south West, tribes re aligned their economies and political alliances to gain access to these materials. The fur trade, in particular, reshaped native life from the northeast to the Rocky Mountains. Long established rivalries intensified as tribes such as the Hodi and Shone, Ottawa, Huron, and Dakota positioned themselves with emerging colonial markets, sometimes gaining significant power in the process.
At the same time, patterns of movements and settlement began to shift dramatically. Some indigenous groups migrated to avoid conflict or seek new trade opportunities, such as the command Shee's rapid expansion into the southern Plains following their adoption of the horse. Others were forcibly removed from ancestral homelands through war, diplomacy,
or missionary pressures. Spanish in the Southwest, French and the Great Lakes and Saint Lawrence, and English along the Atlantic coast sought to convert Native peoples and reshaped their social structures. While some individuals embraced these changes, others resisted through open conflict, cultural persistence, or strategic alliance. Making Native identity didn't vanish, it transformed, blending old practices with new tools, beliefs, and
political realities. By seventeen hundred, North America had been profoundly changed, but it hadn't been conquered. Indigenous peoples remained the majority across most of the continent and continued to shape its history in ways colonial powers could not fully control. They negotiated, resisted, and endured. The world they had known in fourteen ninety two one, defined by deeply rooted traditions, expansive trade routes, and independent nations, had been altered by disease, warfare, migration,
and colonialism. Yet even amid these upheavals, native communities reasserted their presence in new forms, preserving their language, rituals, and sovereignty in the centuries that came after them. Now next week we're going to shift back to the Eastern seaboard, and catch up with affairs in Virginia, which at this point still remains the most populous and most important of the English colonies, but not, as we'll discover next week,
without its problems. Land distribution in the Americas has always been fraught with conflict, and Bacon's rebellion drives that message home
