Study guide

The Song of Hiawatha

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Overview

Published
10 November 1855, by Ticknor and Fields in Boston (David Bogue issued the London edition the same year); begun in June 1854 and finished in the spring of 1855
Author
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882), Harvard professor of modern languages until 1854 and the most widely read American poet of his century
Form
Narrative poem in twenty-two cantos with an Introduction; unrhymed trochaic tetrameter ('By the shores of Gitche Gumee'), heavy with repetition and parallelism
Metre's source
The Finnish Kalevala, which Longfellow knew chiefly through Anton Schiefner's German translation (1852)
Main sources
Henry Rowe Schoolcraft's Algic Researches (1839) and later writings, built on Ojibwe stories gathered with the help of Jane Johnston Schoolcraft and her family; also John Heckewelder, George Catlin and George Copway
Setting
The south shore of Lake Superior (Gitche Gumee), near the Pictured Rocks and the Taquamenaw river, in a timeless era before European contact
Hero
Hiawatha, son of the West Wind and grandson of Nokomis, a culture hero who teaches his people; the stories are those of the Ojibwe Manabozho, though the name belongs to a Haudenosaunee statesman
Reception
An immediate best-seller (by common report tens of thousands of copies within months), widely parodied, attacked in the press for its metre and charged with plagiarism from the Kalevala
Afterlife
Coleridge-Taylor's cantatas (Hiawatha's Wedding Feast, 1898), pageants, school recitation, Lewis Carroll's parody 'Hiawatha's Photographing', and a long Native and scholarly critique
This edition
The archive's text gives the twenty-two cantos; the Introduction ('Should you ask me, whence these stories?') is kept as a separate poem by Longfellow in the archive

Context

By 1854 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow had resigned his Harvard chair to write full time. He was already the best-known poet in the United States, the author of Evangeline (1847), and a scholar who read a dozen languages. In June 1854 his journal records a plan for an Indian poem in a new metre, and by the following spring the work was done. Published on 10 November 1855, The Song of Hiawatha sold, by common report, in tens of thousands within months and became, with Evangeline and The Courtship of Miles Standish (1858), one of the three long poems on which his popular fame rested (Calhoun 2004) (Arvin 1963).

The poem's material came above all from Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, Indian agent at Sault Ste. Marie from 1822, whose Algic Researches (1839) printed Ojibwe tales in a polished literary English. Much of that material had been gathered and translated with the help of his wife, Jane Johnston Schoolcraft (Bamewawagezhikaquay, 1800–1842), the daughter of an Irish fur trader and of Ozhaguscodaywayquay, daughter of the Ojibwe leader Waabojiig; her mother and siblings also served as tellers and interpreters. Jane Johnston Schoolcraft wrote poems and retold stories in her own right, and Robert Dale Parker's edition has made her work available as the first known writing by a Native American woman poet (Schoolcraft 1839) (Parker 2007) (Bremer 1987).

Schoolcraft's hero was Manabozho (Nanabozho), the Ojibwe trickster and transformer, a figure at once creator, buffoon and benefactor. Longfellow at first called his poem 'Manabozho', then changed the name to Hiawatha, believing on Schoolcraft's authority that the two were the same personage. They are not. Hiawatha (Hayenwatha) was remembered by the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) of New York as the statesman who, with the Peacemaker, founded the League of the Five Nations; Horatio Hale showed in 1883 that Schoolcraft had confused him with an Iroquois deity and then transported him to the Ojibwe (Hale 1883) (Wallace 1946) (Thompson 1922).

The metre came from Finland. Longfellow had met Finnish in Sweden in 1835 and knew the Kalevala, the epic compiled by Elias Lönnrot from folk songs, chiefly through Schiefner's German translation. The unrhymed trochaic tetrameter of the Kalevala, with its repetitions and its pairing of lines that restate one another, gave Longfellow a way of making an oral, incantatory narrative in English. It also invited instant parody, and in November 1855 the scholar Thomas Conrad Porter accused him in a Washington newspaper of taking whole episodes from the Finnish poem (Moyne 1963).

The poem belongs to a moment when white Americans were pressing Native nations westward and out of the way, while celebrating an imagined Indian past as a national inheritance. Longfellow's Ojibwe are noble, peaceable and doomed; his hero welcomes a Catholic missionary and sails into the sunset, leaving his people to the newcomers. Critics from Roy Harvey Pearce onward have read this ending as a classic instance of the myth of the 'vanishing Indian', and Native and non-Native scholars alike have asked whose voices the poem preserves and whose it silences (Pearce 1953) (Dippie 1982) (Maddox 1991).

Plot overview

The poem opens with the Great Spirit, Gitche Manito, calling the warring nations together at the Red Pipe-stone Quarry, giving them the peace-pipe and promising a prophet who will teach them. The second canto tells how Mudjekeewis killed the Great Bear and became the West Wind, father of the other winds. Nokomis, fallen from the moon, raises a daughter, Wenonah, who is seduced and abandoned by Mudjekeewis and dies after bearing Hiawatha. Brought up by Nokomis on the shore of Gitche Gumee, Hiawatha learns the speech of animals, makes his first kill, journeys west to fight his father, and fasts in the forest until, wrestling with the spirit Mondamin, he wins maize for his people.

With his friends, the musician Chibiabos and the strong man Kwasind, Hiawatha builds a birch canoe, clears the rivers, kills the great sturgeon Mishe-Nahma from inside its belly, and slays the magician Pearl-Feather, who had killed Nokomis's father. He then woos Minnehaha, daughter of an old Dakota arrow-maker, and brings her home; at the wedding feast Pau-Puk-Keewis dances, Chibiabos sings and the boaster Iagoo tells the story of Osseo, the Son of the Evening Star.

In the happy years that follow Minnehaha blesses the cornfields and Hiawatha invents picture-writing so that his people's memory will not perish. Then losses come. Evil spirits drown Chibiabos, who becomes ruler of the land of the dead; the mischief-maker Pau-Puk-Keewis wrecks Hiawatha's lodge and is hunted through a series of transformations until he dies and is turned into an eagle; the Little People kill Kwasind with pine-cones. Two ghosts visit Hiawatha's lodge to teach the people how to treat the dead.

A terrible winter brings Famine and Fever, and Minnehaha dies while Hiawatha searches the empty forest for food. In spring Iagoo returns with tales of a great winged canoe and bearded white-faced men; only Hiawatha believes him, having seen in a vision both the coming of the strangers and the scattering of his own nation. The last canto brings a Black-Robe priest by canoe. Hiawatha welcomes him, tells his people to listen to the strangers' words, and departs westward into the sunset, to the land of the Northwest Wind and the Islands of the Blessed.

Part by part

Part 1: The Peace-Pipe and the Four Winds

Cantos I–II

Summary

On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry, Gitche Manito, the Master of Life, makes the first peace-pipe, kindles it from the forest and sends up its smoke as a signal to all the nations. The warriors come armed and hostile. He rebukes their quarrels, reminds them of the gifts he has given, and promises a Prophet who will guide and teach them: if they heed him they will prosper, if not they will fade away. They wash off their war-paint in the river, bury their clubs, make pipes from the red stone and go home in peace.

Canto II goes back to the hero's father. Mudjekeewis steals the magic Belt of Wampum from the sleeping Great Bear, Mishe-Mokwa, and kills him with a blow; for this he is made Kabeyun, the West Wind, ruler of the winds. He divides the rest among his sons. Wabun, the East Wind, loves a maiden and changes her into the Morning Star. Kabibonokka, the fierce North Wind, tries to freeze out Shingebis the diver, but the little bird keeps his fire burning, sings at him and beats him in a wrestling match. Shawondasee, the lazy South Wind, sighs for a golden-haired maiden on the prairie who turns out to be a dandelion, and his breath blows her away.

Analysis

The opening places the poem's Native world under a single benevolent creator who speaks like the God of the Hebrew prophets. Gitche Manito's address to the nations is a sermon on peace and union, and his promise of a coming prophet frames Hiawatha as a figure of preparation rather than an end in himself. From the first page, then, the poem's mythology is arranged to lead somewhere beyond itself, which is why the Christian ending (XXII) can present itself as a fulfilment rather than an interruption (Maddox 1991).

The tales of the winds show Longfellow's method with his sources. Schoolcraft's Algic Researches supplied the stories of Shingebis and of the South Wind and the dandelion; Longfellow joins them into a single family history and gives them a gently humorous tone (Osborn 1942) (Thompson 1922). The canto also sets out the hero's inheritance: Hiawatha will be the son of a violent, unfaithful father and of a world in which nature is personal, divided and capricious, and much of his life will consist of bringing order to that world.

Bathe now in the stream before you, Wash the war-paint from your faces, Wash the blood-stains from your fingers, Bury your war-clubs and your weapons,
Hiawatha, I

Gitche Manito's command to the nations. The poem begins with a ritual of disarmament, and peace between peoples remains its governing ideal.

For himself he kept the West-Wind, Gave the others to his children; Unto Wabun gave the East-Wind,
Hiawatha, II

Mudjekeewis divides the world's winds. The West, the direction of sunset, death and Hiawatha's final journey, stays with the father.

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Part 2: Childhood, the Father and the Fast

Cantos III–V

Summary

Nokomis, swinging on a grapevine, is cut down by a jealous rival and falls from the moon to earth, where she bears a daughter, Wenonah. Despite her mother's warnings Wenonah listens to the West Wind, Mudjekeewis, who woos and deserts her; she dies of grief after giving birth to Hiawatha. Nokomis brings up the child in her wigwam by Gitche Gumee, sings him to sleep, and teaches him the stars, the rainbow and the moon. He learns the language of birds and beasts and calls them his chickens and his brothers. Iagoo makes him a bow, and he kills his first roebuck.

Grown to manhood, with magic mittens and moccasins, Hiawatha learns from Nokomis how his father betrayed his mother. He goes west to the portals of the sunset to confront Mudjekeewis. Father and son talk, then fight for three days with rocks and bulrushes until Mudjekeewis cries out that the immortal cannot be killed. He sends Hiawatha home to clear the land of monsters and promises him at death a share of his kingdom, the Northwest Wind. On the way back Hiawatha buys arrow-heads from an old Dakota arrow-maker and sees his daughter, Minnehaha.

Hiawatha then builds a lodge and fasts for seven days, praying not for his own glory but for his people. A youth dressed in green and yellow, Mondamin, comes at sunset and wrestles with him over successive evenings. Mondamin tells Hiawatha that he will overcome him, and that he must then bury him and tend his grave. Hiawatha does so, and from the grave rises the maize. He shows the new plant to Nokomis and Iagoo, and the first Feast of Mondamin is held.

Analysis

These cantos are the poem's most tender and its most mythically rich. The lullabies, the questions about the moon and the rainbow, and the naming of animals give a picture of childhood as an education in names: Hiawatha learns the world by learning what Nokomis and the creatures call things. Native words such as Wah-wah-taysee and Ishkoodah sound through the English like the music of another language, which is part of the poem's appeal and part of its problem, since most come through Schoolcraft's often imprecise vocabularies (Schoolcraft 1839).

The fight with Mudjekeewis turns a family wrong into a vocation. Anger gives way to a mission to cleanse the earth, and the son who could not kill his father inherits a share of his immortality. The fast and the wrestling with Mondamin, from Schoolcraft's tale of the origin of maize, make Hiawatha a culture hero who gives his people agriculture. Stith Thompson noted that Longfellow gathered stories told of several figures and gave them all to one hero, producing a unity the sources do not have (Thompson 1922).

Longfellow also refines his material. Schoolcraft had already softened the tales; Longfellow omits nearly all the comic, greedy and sexual side of Manabozho the trickster, so that what remains is a serious and sentimental hero, nearer to an idealised American youth than to the transformer of Ojibwe storytelling (Thompson 1922) (Krupat 1992).

By the shores of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.
Hiawatha, III

The poem's most famous lines. The Ojibwe name of Lake Superior and its English gloss are set side by side, a pattern of naming and translation that runs through the poem.

Go back to your home and people, Live among them, toil among them, Cleanse the earth from all that harms it, Clear the fishing-grounds and rivers,
Hiawatha, IV

Mudjekeewis gives his son a mission. The hero's work will be practical and communal: clearing, teaching and protecting.

Not for triumphs in the battle, And renown among the warriors, But for profit of the people, For advantage of the nations.
Hiawatha, V

Hiawatha's fast rejects the warrior's glory. Longfellow's hero is defined by service, not conquest, which sets him against the heroes of classical epic.

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Part 3: Friends and Labours

Cantos VI–IX

Summary

Canto VI introduces Hiawatha's two friends. Chibiabos, the musician, sings so sweetly that the brooks, the birds and the rabbit beg to learn his songs. Kwasind, the very strong man, is mocked as lazy by his parents and the young men until he wrings out nets, pulls up trees and hurls a great rock into the river.

In VII Hiawatha builds a canoe, asking the birch for its bark, the cedar for its boughs, the larch for its roots, the fir for its balsam and the hedgehog for its quills; the canoe moves at his wish. With Kwasind he clears the Taquamenaw of logs and sand-bars. In VIII he goes fishing on Gitche Gumee for Mishe-Nahma, the sturgeon King of Fishes. The sturgeon swallows him, canoe and all; he strikes its heart until it dies, and the sea-gulls peck him free. Nokomis renders the oil.

In IX Nokomis points west to the realm of the Pearl-Feather, Megissogwon, the magician who sends fever from the marshes and who killed her father. Hiawatha anoints his canoe with the sturgeon's oil, kills the fiery serpents and crosses the black pitch-water. The fight lasts all day, and his arrows cannot pierce the magician's shirt of wampum until a woodpecker tells him to aim at the tuft of hair on his crown. Hiawatha kills Megissogwon, rewards the bird with its red crest, and shares the magician's wealth among his people.

Analysis

These are the cantos of the culture hero at work, and they combine fairy-tale adventure with explanations of origins: why the woodpecker has a red crest, how the canoe was first made, how rivers became passable. The friends embody two gifts a community needs, art and strength, and both will later be taken by hostile spirits, which gives the second half of the poem much of its elegiac shape.

The building of the canoe is often admired as Longfellow's best sustained writing, and its formula of request and gift ('Give me of your bark') presents nature as a willing partner of human craft. 'Hiawatha's Fishing' is the episode closest to its source in Schoolcraft, yet even here Longfellow reorders and simplifies (Thompson 1922) (Osborn 1942). The Pearl-Feather episode turns a tale of vengeance into the defeat of disease and avarice, and its ending, the dividing of the spoils, again makes the hero's victories public goods.

"Give me of your bark, O Birch-tree! Of your yellow bark, O Birch-tree! Growing by the rushing river, Tall and stately in the valley!
Hiawatha, VII

The opening of the canoe-building canto. Each tree is addressed as a person and asked for a gift, a pattern of repeated petition that the metre makes almost liturgical.

Made its passage safe and certain, Made a pathway for the people,
Hiawatha, VII

Hiawatha and Kwasind clear the river. The hero's labours are a kind of public works.

Even to this day he wears it, Wears the tuft of crimson feathers, As a symbol of his service.
Hiawatha, IX

The reward of the woodpecker, Mama. The fight ends in an origin story of the kind that runs through the poem's sources.

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Part 4: Wooing and Wedding

Cantos X–XII

Summary

Hiawatha broods on marriage. Nokomis advises him to marry a woman of his own people, not a stranger, and warns him against an idle wife; he answers that he likes the starlight and the moonlight better than the firelight. He sets off to the land of the Dakota, kills a deer on the way, and arrives at the lodge of the old Arrow-maker, where Minnehaha sits plaiting mats. He asks for her hand, saying that the marriage will seal peace between the Ojibwe and the Dakota. The old man leaves the choice to his daughter, and she says she will follow him. The Arrow-maker is left alone, lamenting that daughters always leave; the lovers travel home through a welcoming forest.

At the wedding feast (XI) Nokomis serves sturgeon, pike and maize. Pau-Puk-Keewis, the handsome idler, dances the Beggar's Dance and stirs up the dust in whirlwinds; Chibiabos sings the love song 'Onaway! Awake, beloved!'; and Iagoo, the old boaster, is asked for a story. In XII he tells of Osseo, Son of the Evening Star, an old and ugly husband whom the faithful Oweenee chooses over richer suitors. Transformed into a youth, he is carried with his wife to his father's lodge in the sky, and their son later returns to earth among the pygmies. Iagoo ends with a warning for his hearers, and the guests depart.

Analysis

The courtship is, as Stith Thompson observed, the least Ojibwe of the poem's episodes; it is largely Longfellow's own invention, and yet it became for many readers the typical Indian love story (Thompson 1922). Its emotional language is that of a domestic novel: the anxious grandmother, the reluctant father, the bride who leaves her home. Its political language is that of treaties: the union of two peoples is meant to end old feuds. The two languages show how the poem projects nineteenth-century American ideals of home and reconciliation onto a pre-contact world.

The wedding feast is a showcase of entertainment, and it was the section Samuel Coleridge-Taylor set in his famous cantata (Self 1995). Its three performers, dancer, singer and storyteller, mirror the poem's own arts, and Pau-Puk-Keewis, introduced here as a charming idler, will become the hero's antagonist. The Osseo story is a tale within the tale, an Ojibwe star-myth from Schoolcraft that celebrates faithfulness and the beauty hidden in age.

"As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman; Though she bends him, she obeys him, Though she draws him, yet she follows,
Hiawatha, X

Hiawatha's reflection on marriage opens the canto. The simile of bow and string imagines partnership and hierarchy at once, a Victorian ideal of complementary roles.

Very pleasant is the firelight, But I like the starlight better, Better do I like the moonlight!
Hiawatha, X

Hiawatha's reply to Nokomis, who has compared a neighbour's daughter to firelight and a stranger to starlight. He chooses the distant and the beautiful.

"Thus it is our daughters leave us, Those we love, and those who love us! Just when they have learned to help us, When we are old and lean upon them,
Hiawatha, X

The old Arrow-maker left alone. Longfellow gives the father's loss as much weight as the lovers' joy.

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Part 5: The Cornfields and the Picture-Writing

Cantos XIII–XIV

Summary

In the happy years after the wedding, the Ojibwe live at peace. Hiawatha asks Minnehaha to protect the growing corn: at night, unclothed and hidden by darkness, she walks a magic circle round the fields. The ravens led by Kahgahgee, their king, come to dig up the seed and are caught in Hiawatha's snares; he ties their king to the ridge-pole of his lodge as a warning. In autumn the women and young people gather for the husking. A red ear means a lover for the finder; a crooked, blighted ear means the thief Wagemin has been there, and the old men laugh.

In XIV Hiawatha reflects that traditions fade from memory, that the dead lie in unmarked graves and that words cannot be sent to the absent without a messenger who may betray them. He invents picture-writing: signs for the Great Spirit and the Evil Spirit, for life and death, sun and moon, earth and sky. He teaches the people to paint their family emblems on grave-posts. The prophets and medicine-men use the signs for their songs, and the canto ends with the picture-writing of a love-song, image by image.

Analysis

The cornfield canto shows the poem's domestic idyll at its fullest, with ritual, comedy and harvest festivity. Minnehaha's night walk, taken from Schoolcraft's account of a fertility custom, is treated with a delicacy that kept the poem fit for the parlour. The comic husking scene is one of the few places where the poem's people laugh among themselves.

The picture-writing canto is a myth of the origin of writing and, implicitly, of the poem itself. Hiawatha's anxiety that 'all things fade and perish' is also Longfellow's motive for writing: to fix in durable form a tradition he believed was passing away. The images derive largely from Schoolcraft's illustrated accounts of Ojibwe birch-bark scrolls connected with the Midewiwin, the society of medicine people; scholars have pointed out that this framing makes Native culture something to be preserved in a white poet's book rather than a living practice (Maddox 1991) (Krupat 1992).

Laid aside her garments wholly, And with darkness clothed and guarded, Unashamed and unaffrighted, Walked securely round the cornfields,
Hiawatha, XIII

Minnehaha's night circuit of the fields. The scene is drawn from a custom recorded by Schoolcraft and told with careful decorum.

"Great men die and are forgotten, Wise men speak; their words of wisdom Perish in the ears that hear them,
Hiawatha, XIV

Hiawatha's reason for inventing writing. The fear of oblivion that drives the canto is also the poem's own.

All the mysteries of painting, All the art of Picture-Writing, On the smooth bark of the birch-tree,
Hiawatha, XIV

The close of the canto. Writing is given to the people as a gift of the hero, like the canoe and the maize.

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Part 6: Losses: Chibiabos, Pau-Puk-Keewis, Kwasind

Cantos XV–XVIII

Summary

The evil spirits, fearing Hiawatha's wisdom and his love for Chibiabos, plot against the musician. Though Hiawatha warns him never to leave his side, Chibiabos crosses the ice of Gitche Gumee hunting a deer; the ice breaks and the spirits drag him down. Hiawatha paints his face black and laments for seven weeks. The medicine-men build a sacred lodge and heal him with chants and herbs. They summon Chibiabos from the water; his ghost appears at the door, is given a burning coal, and is sent to rule the land of the dead.

In XVI Pau-Puk-Keewis, bored with Iagoo's stories, wins everything the young men own by gambling with the bowl and counters, takes Iagoo's nephew as his servant, and goes to Hiawatha's lodge while Hiawatha is away. He wrecks it, then climbs to a cliff above the lake and kills the birds that Hiawatha loves. In XVII Hiawatha hunts him. Pau-Puk-Keewis becomes a beaver and is killed; his spirit escapes and becomes a goose, which falls when it looks down; he hides in the rocks of the Old Man of the Mountain, but Hiawatha breaks them open with thunder and lightning. Pau-Puk-Keewis dies, and Hiawatha changes his soul into Keneu, the war-eagle.

In XVIII the Little People, the Puk-Wudjies, resent the strength of Kwasind, whose only vulnerable point is the crown of his head. While the Spirit of Sleep makes him drowsy as he floats down the Taquamenaw, they bombard him with pine-cones from the river bank; he topples into the water and is never seen again. In winter storms the people still say they hear Kwasind.

Analysis

This group turns the poem from comedy to elegy. The deaths of Chibiabos and Kwasind take away the two gifts that Hiawatha's friends represented, music and strength, and leave him increasingly alone. The healing of Hiawatha by the medicine-men and the sending of Chibiabos to the land of the dead are drawn from Schoolcraft's accounts of Ojibwe origin stories of the Midewiwin, though Longfellow simplifies them into a story of consolation (Schoolcraft 1839).

Pau-Puk-Keewis is the closest the poem comes to the trickster that the Ojibwe Manabozho actually was: a shape-changer, gambler, dancer and destroyer. Longfellow splits that figure in two, giving the dignity and benevolence to Hiawatha and the mischief to his antagonist, then has the hero destroy the trickster (Thompson 1922). The chase is the poem's most energetic sequence, and the transformation into an eagle lets the defeated spirit survive as an emblem in the storytellers' memory.

"He is dead, the sweet musician! He the sweetest of all singers! He has gone from us forever,
Hiawatha, XV

Hiawatha's lament for Chibiabos. The repeated phrases give grief the form of ritual song.

I will change you to an eagle, To Keneu, the great war-eagle, Chief of all the fowls with feathers, Chief of Hiawatha's chickens.
Hiawatha, XVII

The end of Pau-Puk-Keewis. The killer of Hiawatha's birds is turned into the greatest of them.

Now this wondrous strength of Kwasind In his crown alone was seated; In his crown too was his weakness;
Hiawatha, XVIII

Kwasind's single vulnerable point. The motif, familiar from Akhilleus and Siegfried, is given a Native setting.

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Part 7: The Ghosts and the Famine

Cantos XIX–XX

Summary

Into Hiawatha's wigwam one winter evening come two silent women who sit in the darkest corner and take the best portions of food without a word of thanks. Hiawatha, Nokomis and Minnehaha bear with them patiently. At last Hiawatha hears them weeping at midnight and asks why. They are ghosts from the land of the dead, sent to test him. The cries of the living, they say, trouble the departed; the dead should not be burdened with heavy grave-goods, but given food and lit on their four-day journey by a fire kindled four times on the grave. Praising his patience, they warn him of a harder trial to come and vanish.

The trial is the winter of XX. Snow buries the village; hunters die in the forest; Famine and Fever enter Hiawatha's lodge as silent guests and look at Minnehaha. Hiawatha rushes into the forest crying to Gitche Manito for food and hears only the echo of her name. Minnehaha, delirious, hears the falls of her home and sees her father beckoning; she cries out for Hiawatha and dies before he can return. He sits by her body for seven days. They bury her in the snow, light the fire on her grave four nights, and Hiawatha bids her farewell, promising to follow her to the Islands of the Blessed.

Analysis

The ghost canto prepares for the famine both in plot and in form. The silent guests who enter uninvited are repeated, in darker shape, by Famine and Fever. The ghosts' teaching about mourning is grounded in Ojibwe practice recorded by Schoolcraft, but in Longfellow's handling it also prepares the hero, and the reader, for a grief that must be borne rather than resisted.

'The Famine' was the most admired and most anthologised part of the poem in the nineteenth century, and Coleridge-Taylor made it the second of his cantatas, The Death of Minnehaha (Self 1995). Its power comes from the metre's capacity for incantation: the exclamations ('Oh the long and dreary Winter!'), the echo of 'Minnehaha!' in the forest, the dialogue between the dying woman's visions and Nokomis's gentle denials. Readers attentive to the poem's ideology have noted how the suffering of the Ojibwe is made a matter of nature and fate, not of history (Pearce 1953).

And we see that the departed Have no place among the living.
Hiawatha, XIX

The ghosts' lesson. The principle that the dead belong elsewhere anticipates the poem's own ending.

Hungry was the air around them, Hungry was the sky above them, And the hungry stars in heaven Like the eyes of wolves glared at them!
Hiawatha, XX

The famine's cosmic scale. Repetition turns hunger into a quality of the whole world.

"Farewell!" said he, "Minnehaha! Farewell, O my Laughing Water! All my heart is buried with you, All my thoughts go onward with you!
Hiawatha, XX

Hiawatha's farewell at the grave. The promise to follow her prepares his departure in XXII.

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Part 8: The White Man's Foot and the Departure

Cantos XXI–XXII

Summary

Canto XXI begins with an allegory: an old man, Peboan, the Winter, sits by a dying fire when a young man, Segwun, the Spring, enters; they boast of their powers until the sun rises, the old man melts away, and the first spring flower blooms where he sat. Spring returns, and with it Iagoo from a long journey east. He tells of a bitter water broader than Gitche Gumee, of a winged canoe bigger than a grove of pines, and of white-faced, bearded men. The people laugh at him. Only Hiawatha believes him: he has seen it all in a vision, and he urges the people to welcome the strangers as brothers. But he has also seen the newcomers' crowded nations marching west, and the remnants of his own people scattered like autumn leaves.

In XXII, on a summer morning, a birch canoe comes over the lake bringing the Black-Robe chief, a priest with a cross on his breast. Hiawatha welcomes him joyfully, and the priest greets him in the name of Christ and Mary. The chiefs hear the story of the Virgin and her Son and promise to think on it. While the guests sleep in the afternoon heat, Hiawatha takes leave of Nokomis, asking her to care for them, and of his people, telling them to listen to the strangers' words of wisdom. He launches his canoe and sails westward into the sunset, while the forest, the waves and the heron cry farewell, to the land of the Northwest Wind and the Islands of the Blessed.

Analysis

The final cantos give the poem its historical frame and its most disputed meaning. The allegory of Winter and Spring invites the reader to see the change that follows as a natural succession of seasons. Hiawatha's double vision then makes the arrival of Europeans both a divine message and the beginning of his people's dispersal, and the poem accepts both without protest. Roy Harvey Pearce saw in this the perfect expression of the idea that the Indian belonged to a noble past that civilisation had necessarily replaced (Pearce 1953) (Dippie 1982).

The coming of the Black-Robe draws on the history of French Jesuit missions on Lake Superior in the seventeenth century, and Hiawatha's welcome turns the culture hero into a forerunner of Christianity. His departure echoes both Manabozho's withdrawal in Ojibwe tradition and the end of the Kalevala, where Väinämöinen sails away when a new king, born of a virgin, is acknowledged (Moyne 1963). To many modern readers, especially Native readers, the ending is the poem's most troubling feature: the hero gives his people away to their colonisers and leaves (Maddox 1991) (Deloria 1998).

I beheld our nation scattered, All forgetful of my counsels, Weakened, warring with each other;
Hiawatha, XXI

Hiawatha's second vision. The poem names the destruction of his people but attributes it to their own forgetfulness and quarrels.

But my guests I leave behind me; Listen to their words of wisdom, Listen to the truth they tell you,
Hiawatha, XXII

Hiawatha's last charge to his people. The culture hero hands his authority to the missionaries.

Westward, westward Hiawatha Sailed into the fiery sunset, Sailed into the purple vapors, Sailed into the dusk of evening:
Hiawatha, XXII

The departure. West, the direction of the poem's father figure and of death, is also the direction of American expansion.

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Characters

Hiawatha's family and friends

Hiawatha
Son of Mudjekeewis, the West Wind, and of Wenonah, raised by his grandmother Nokomis. He is a culture hero rather than a warrior: he wins maize, builds the first canoe, clears rivers, kills monsters, invents picture-writing and teaches his people peace. His adventures are drawn mostly from Ojibwe stories of Manabozho, purged of the trickster's comedy and appetite, while his name belongs to the Haudenosaunee founder of the League of the Iroquois. At the end he welcomes a Christian missionary and departs westward.
Nokomis
Hiawatha's grandmother, 'Daughter of the Moon', who fell to earth when a jealous rival cut her swing. She raises Hiawatha, teaches him the lore of the sky and the animals, warns him against marrying a stranger, and survives every loss in the poem. Her name, from the Ojibwe word for grandmother, became one of the poem's most familiar.
Wenonah
Daughter of Nokomis and mother of Hiawatha. Seduced and deserted by Mudjekeewis, she dies after his birth. Her wrong is the motive of Hiawatha's journey to fight his father.
Mudjekeewis
Hiawatha's father, who killed the Great Bear and became Kabeyun, the West Wind and ruler of the winds. Proud and faithless, he is confronted by his son and fights him for three days, then sends him home with a mission and the promise of the Northwest Wind at his death.
Minnehaha
'Laughing Water', daughter of a Dakota arrow-maker, named after the waterfall near her home. She marries Hiawatha, bringing peace between their peoples, blesses the cornfields and dies in the famine (XX). Her courtship is largely Longfellow's invention, and she became the poem's most sentimentalised figure.
The Arrow-maker
Minnehaha's father, an old Dakota craftsman who remembers his warrior days. He lets his daughter choose for herself and laments her leaving; in her final delirium she sees him beckoning from his doorway.
Chibiabos
The musician, Hiawatha's dearest friend, whose singing charms birds and streams; he sings the love song at the wedding feast. Drowned under the ice of Gitche Gumee by evil spirits (XV), he becomes ruler of the land of the dead.
Kwasind
The very strong man, mocked as lazy until he shows his strength. He helps Hiawatha clear the rivers and fight; his only vulnerable point is the crown of his head, and the Little People kill him with pine-cones (XVIII).

Enemies and tricksters

Pau-Puk-Keewis
The handsome Yenadizze, or idler, called the Storm-Fool. He dances at the wedding feast, gambles away the young men's goods, wrecks Hiawatha's lodge and kills his birds. Hunted through a series of shape-changes, he is killed and turned into an eagle. He carries the trickster side of Manabozho that Longfellow kept away from his hero.
Megissogwon, the Pearl-Feather
The magician, lord of wealth and wampum, who sends fever from the marshes and killed Nokomis's father. Guarded by fiery serpents and black pitch-water, he is killed by Hiawatha with the woodpecker's help (IX).
Mishe-Nahma
The great sturgeon, King of Fishes, who swallows Hiawatha and his canoe and is killed from within (VIII).
Mishe-Mokwa
The Great Bear of the mountains, killed by Mudjekeewis, who takes his Belt of Wampum (II).
Kahgahgee
King of the Ravens, who leads the birds against the cornfields and is tied to the ridge-pole of Hiawatha's lodge as a warning (XIII).
The Puk-Wudjies
The Little People, pygmy spirits of the woods, who resent Kwasind's strength and kill him (XVIII).

Spirits and others

Gitche Manito
The Great Spirit and Master of Life, who gives the nations the peace-pipe and promises a prophet (I). Longfellow's single creator owes as much to Christian monotheism as to Ojibwe belief in many manitous.
Mondamin
The spirit of maize, a youth in green and yellow who wrestles with the fasting Hiawatha, is buried by him and rises as corn (V).
The Winds
Wabun, the East Wind, who turns his beloved into the Morning Star; Kabibonokka, the North Wind, defeated by Shingebis the diver; and Shawondasee, the South Wind, who loves a dandelion. With their father they make the world of canto II.
Iagoo
The old boaster and storyteller, who makes Hiawatha's first bow, tells the story of Osseo at the wedding (XII), and is mocked for his tale of the white men's ship until Hiawatha confirms it (XXI).
Osseo and Oweenee
The Son of the Evening Star and his faithful wife in Iagoo's tale; Osseo, old and ugly on earth, is restored to youth and taken with her to his father's lodge in the sky.
Famine and Fever
Bukadawin and Ahkosewin, who enter Hiawatha's lodge as silent guests and gaze at Minnehaha before her death (XX).
The ghosts
Two women from the land of the dead who visit Hiawatha's lodge to test his patience and teach the right way to mourn (XIX).
Peboan and Segwun
Winter and Spring, an old man and a youth who compete in boasts until the old man melts away (XXI).
The Black-Robe
The Catholic priest, the 'Prophet' and 'Pale-face', who arrives by canoe in XXII and tells the people of Christ and Mary. He recalls the French Jesuit missionaries of the Great Lakes.

Themes

Service and the culture hero

Hiawatha's heroism lies in what he gives. From the fast undertaken 'for profit of the people' to the canoe, the cleared rivers, the maize and the picture-writing, his deeds are gifts of civilisation, and even his victories over monsters end in shared wealth. Longfellow deliberately departs from the warrior heroes of classical epic, whose glory is personal, and from the trickster of Ojibwe story, whose gifts are often accidental. The result is a hero shaped by the ideals of nineteenth-century reform: useful, gentle and self-sacrificing.

This conception is also what makes the ending possible. A hero defined by service can hand his people on to new teachers; a culture hero who prepares the way can step aside. The theme of service, admirable in itself, thus serves the poem's larger story of succession.

Peace between peoples

The poem opens with the burial of war-clubs and returns repeatedly to reconciliation: Hiawatha's marriage is meant to end the feud between Ojibwe and Dakota, his deeds are against monsters rather than men, and his last act is to welcome strangers 'as friends and brothers'. In an age of Indian wars and removals the poem imagines an Indian past without war between Natives and whites. Critics have seen in this a wishful erasure of conflict, since the peace the poem preaches culminates in the peaceful surrender of the land (Maddox 1991).

Memory, loss and preservation

Hiawatha fears that 'all things fade and perish', invents writing to fix tradition, and grieves for friends and wife. The poem's own existence answers the same fear: Longfellow presents himself, in the Introduction, as the recorder of songs he heard from others. Preservation, however, has a double edge. To preserve a culture in a book is to treat it as already passing, and the poem's elegiac mood belongs both to Hiawatha's sorrows and to the assumption that Native life is ending (Pearce 1953).

Nature as kin

In the poem the birch, the cedar and the squirrel answer when addressed; the birds are Hiawatha's chickens and the beasts his brothers; the winds are his father and uncles. This vision of nature as a family of persons is drawn partly from Ojibwe tradition and partly from Romantic poetry, and it gave the poem much of its long appeal to children and to readers in an industrialising world. It also made Native people into figures of nature rather than history.

Love and the domestic ideal

The courtship, the wedding and the death of Minnehaha are the poem's emotional centre for most readers, and they are its least Ojibwe parts. Nokomis's advice, the Arrow-maker's lament, and the image of bow and string present marriage on the model of the middle-class American home. The famine canto then turns this domestic happiness into tragedy. The Victorian sentiment of these scenes explains both the poem's popularity and the modernist reaction against it (Gioia 1993).

Succession and the coming of Christianity

From Gitche Manito's promise of a prophet to the arrival of the Black-Robe, the poem is built as a story of preparation and fulfilment. Hiawatha's world is noble, but its end is foretold, and the seasonal allegory of Winter giving way to Spring presents the change as natural. The poem's Christianity is gentle, but its message is plain: the missionary's 'words of wisdom' supersede the hero's. Whether one reads this as Longfellow's sincere hope for peaceful conversion or as an alibi for dispossession, it is the poem's governing design (Dippie 1982) (Berkhofer 1978).

Motifs

Repetition and parallelism

Lines restate one another ('By the shores of Gitche Gumee, / By the shining Big-Sea-Water'), epithets return with every name ('Kwasind, the very strong man'), and whole formulas recur from canto to canto. Longfellow defended this parallelism as common to Finnish and to Native poetry; it gives the poem its incantatory music and made it irresistible to parody (Moyne 1963).

Naming and gloss

Native words are almost always followed by their English sense: 'Gitche Gumee, / ... the shining Big-Sea-Water', 'Minnehaha, Laughing Water'. The habit makes the poem a kind of glossary and keeps the reader inside English while suggesting another language behind it.

The silent guest

Strangers enter Hiawatha's lodge throughout the second half: the ghosts (XIX), Famine and Fever (XX), and finally the Black-Robe and his companions (XXII), whom Hiawatha leaves sleeping in his lodge. The repetition invites a darker reading of the last guests.

Westward

Hiawatha travels west to fight his father, sails west at the end, and sees the white nations march westward in his vision. West is the realm of the West Wind, of the sunset and of death, and also the direction of American expansion.

Origin stories

Many episodes end by explaining a present feature of the world: the woodpecker's red crest, the maize, the canoe, the eagle, the sound of Kwasind in winter storms. The device ties the poem to the explanatory tales of its sources.

Symbols

The peace-pipe

Made by Gitche Manito from the red stone of the quarry (I) and lit again by Nokomis for the Black-Robe's party (XXII), the pipe frames the poem as a story of peace. Its return at the end makes the arrival of Christianity a continuation of the peace that began the poem.

The birch canoe

Built from the gifts of the trees (VII), the canoe stands for Hiawatha's harmony with nature and his power to open ways for his people. A birch canoe also brings the priest, and the hero leaves in one.

Maize

Won from Mondamin by fasting and wrestling (V) and protected by Minnehaha (XIII), the corn is the hero's greatest gift and the foundation of a settled, agricultural life.

The sunset

The 'portals of the Sunset' are the home of Mudjekeewis and the destination of Hiawatha's last voyage. The sunset joins the poem's themes of death, the end of an age and the passage to the Islands of the Blessed.

Critical debates

Authenticity and appropriation

Longfellow insisted that he could give 'chapter and verse' for his legends, and his notes cite Schoolcraft throughout. The first systematic study of his debts, by Stith Thompson in 1922, granted the closeness of many details but showed that Longfellow had combined stories told of different figures, omitted the trickster cycle and invented the love story, producing a unity foreign to the sources; the Osborns later traced each borrowing in detail (Thompson 1922) (Osborn 1942).

Later scholarship has asked a sharper question: what does it mean for a Euro-American poet to take Native stories, already reshaped by an Indian agent, and present them as the heritage of the United States? Arnold Krupat and others have discussed the ethics of translating and editing Native oral literature, and Lucy Maddox placed the poem among the writings that made Native peoples symbolic while the government removed them from their lands (Krupat 1992) (Maddox 1991). Some Ojibwe communities, however, also adopted the poem: from around 1900 Ojibwe performers at Garden River and elsewhere staged Hiawatha pageants, a history that complicates any simple story of theft (Trachtenberg 2004).

Jane Johnston Schoolcraft and the Ojibwe sources

The stories Longfellow read in Algic Researches came to Schoolcraft largely through his wife's family: Jane Johnston Schoolcraft, her mother Ozhaguscodaywayquay and her siblings told, translated and wrote down many of them. Schoolcraft acknowledged their help only in general terms, and earlier criticism followed him in treating the tales as his (Schoolcraft 1839) (Bremer 1987).

Robert Dale Parker's edition of Jane Johnston Schoolcraft's writings (2007) has changed this picture. It shows her as a bilingual poet and storyteller whose versions of Ojibwe tales were sometimes reworked by her husband before publication. Readers now ask how much of the Ojibwe material in the poem passed through a Native woman's voice before it reached Longfellow, and what was lost when Schoolcraft polished it into the conventions of Romantic prose (Parker 2007).

Two Hiawathas

Longfellow's hero bears the name of a historical or legendary Haudenosaunee statesman, remembered in Iroquois tradition as the companion of the Peacemaker in founding the League of the Five Nations. Schoolcraft had identified this figure with Manabozho, and Longfellow followed him. Horatio Hale, working with Iroquois informants, argued in 1883 that Schoolcraft had confused the statesman with a deity and moved him to the wrong people, and Paul Wallace's retelling of the League tradition made the historical Hiawatha familiar to a wide public (Hale 1883) (Wallace 1946).

The confusion matters because it shows how the poem flattened distinct Native nations into one generic 'Indian' past. Haudenosaunee writers have long complained that a founder of a political confederacy, a lawgiver of peace, became known to most of the world as an Ojibwe hero of the woods. Ironically, Longfellow's hero is himself a peacemaker, so that the poem keeps something of the original Hiawatha's meaning while losing his history.

The metre and the Kalevala

The trochaic tetrameter was the most discussed feature of the poem in 1855. Reviewers mocked its monotony and parodists seized on it at once. In November 1855 Thomas Conrad Porter charged in the National Intelligencer that Longfellow had borrowed not only the Kalevala's metre but some of its most striking incidents. Longfellow dismissed the charge, and in the Athenaeum of December 1855 Ferdinand Freiligrath defended the metre while acknowledging its Finnish source.

Ernest Moyne's study of 1963 remains the fullest examination. Moyne showed that Longfellow knew the Kalevala through Schiefner's German version, that the metre and the parallelism are certainly Finnish, and that some structural features, such as the hero's departure in a boat at the end, have Finnish analogues; but he found the charge of wholesale plagiarism unfounded, since the episodes themselves come from Schoolcraft (Moyne 1963). The deeper critical question is whether a Finnish metre was an apt vehicle for Native stories. Longfellow argued that parallelism was common to both traditions; modern critics have seen in the choice the logic of a romantic, pan-primitive idea of 'folk' poetry (Irmscher 2006).

An epic for America

Longfellow called the work his 'Indian Edda', and many readers took it as the national epic that American critics had demanded since the Revolution: a poem on native materials, owing nothing to Homer or Virgil. Its success in Britain and Europe, where it was translated into many languages, seemed to confirm that America had found a voice of its own (Calhoun 2004).

Yet the epic is a strange one: its hero is not an ancestor of its readers, and its national meaning depends on the transfer of the land and its legends from one people to another. Philip Deloria has shown how white Americans repeatedly 'played Indian' to fashion a native identity for themselves, and Alan Trachtenberg reads the long afterlife of Hiawatha, in schools, pageants and advertising, as part of the making of Americans in an age of immigration (Deloria 1998) (Trachtenberg 2004). The poem's claim to be a national epic is thus inseparable from its politics.

The ending and the vanishing Indian

Hiawatha's welcome to the Black-Robe and his departure have been read in sharply different ways. For Longfellow's admirers the ending is a vision of peaceful transition and of a Christianity that fulfils rather than destroys; Longfellow himself was a liberal Unitarian, sympathetic to Native people, and his journal records sorrow at their treatment (Calhoun 2004).

For most modern critics the ending is the poem's ideology in its plainest form. Roy Harvey Pearce described Longfellow as the poet who fully realised the image of the noble savage for his age, a figure safely in the past whose disappearance could be mourned without guilt; Brian Dippie traced the broader myth of the 'vanishing American', in which Native decline was imagined as natural and inevitable rather than the result of policy (Pearce 1953) (Dippie 1982) (Berkhofer 1978). Hiawatha's vision in XXI, in which his nation is scattered by its own forgetfulness and quarrels, is a key text for this reading.

Popularity and modernist disdain

For half a century The Song of Hiawatha was among the most widely read poems in English; schoolchildren recited it and families read it aloud. The modernists made Longfellow the type of everything they rejected: sentiment, moral uplift, regular metre and easy music. By the mid-twentieth century he had almost vanished from serious criticism, and Newton Arvin's critical biography (1963) was a rare attempt at a balanced assessment (Arvin 1963).

Dana Gioia's essay of 1993 argued that Longfellow's fall was the result of modernist polemic rather than a just judgement, and that his narrative skill, metrical inventiveness and public role deserve fresh consideration. Christoph Irmscher's Longfellow Redux (2006) and Charles Calhoun's biography (2004) continued this revaluation, emphasising Longfellow's cosmopolitan learning and his place in a culture of reading (Gioia 1993) (Irmscher 2006) (Calhoun 2004). Hiawatha remains the test case: its technical virtuosity is now widely admitted, its ideology widely criticised.

Parody, music and the children's classic

No American poem was parodied more. Within weeks of publication newspapers printed trochaic burlesques, and Lewis Carroll's 'Hiawatha's Photographing' (1857, collected in Phantasmagoria, 1869) mocked both the metre and the Victorian family portrait, with a prefatory note on how easily the rhythm can be imitated (Carroll 1869). The parodies themselves testify to how widely the poem was known.

Its musical afterlife was equally vast. Samuel Coleridge-Taylor's Hiawatha's Wedding Feast (1898), on canto XI, followed by The Death of Minnehaha and Hiawatha's Departure, became one of the most performed choral works in Britain for half a century; its composer, the son of a Sierra Leonean doctor and an English mother, was celebrated on tours of the United States by African American audiences (Self 1995). Retold in prose and illustrated for children, the poem became a nursery classic, a status that both preserved it and confirmed modernist suspicions of it (Trachtenberg 2004).

Key passages

If you listen to his counsels, You will multiply and prosper; If his warnings pass unheeded, You will fade away and perish!
Gitche Manito · Hiawatha, I

The Great Spirit promises the nations a prophet. The alternative of prospering or fading foreshadows both Hiawatha's teaching and his final vision of his scattered people, and casts the decline of Native peoples as a consequence of their own conduct.

Stilled his fretful wail by saying, "Hush! the Naked Bear will hear thee!"
Nokomis (reported by the narrator) · Hiawatha, III

Nokomis's nursery threat, one of the domestic details that made the poem beloved. The childhood cantos build a world of lullabies and questions that later readers met as children themselves.

Not a word he said of arrows, Not a word of Laughing Water.
The narrator · Hiawatha, IV

Hiawatha keeps his first sight of Minnehaha secret from Nokomis. The gentle irony shows the narrator's affectionate, knowing voice, which often stands between the reader and the myth.

But for profit of the people, For advantage of the nations.
The narrator · Hiawatha, V

The purpose of Hiawatha's fast. The lines define the hero by service to the community, the principle that unites all his deeds.

"As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman; Though she bends him, she obeys him,
Hiawatha · Hiawatha, X

Hiawatha's meditation on marriage. The simile is among the poem's most quoted lines and expresses a nineteenth-century ideal of complementary but unequal partnership.

"Lo! how all things fade and perish! From the memory of the old men Pass away the great traditions,
Hiawatha · Hiawatha, XIV

The motive for picture-writing. Hiawatha's lament for vanishing tradition mirrors Longfellow's own project of preserving Native legend, with all the assumptions that project carried.

But there came no other answer Than the echo of his crying, Than the echo of the woodlands, "Minnehaha! Minnehaha!"
The narrator · Hiawatha, XX

Hiawatha's prayer for food goes unanswered. The echo of Minnehaha's name in the empty forest is the emotional climax of the famine canto, and the silence of Gitche Manito prepares for the coming of another faith.

I beheld the westward marches Of the unknown, crowded nations. All the land was full of people, Restless, struggling, toiling, striving,
Hiawatha · Hiawatha, XXI

Hiawatha's vision of white settlement. The energy of the verbs expresses admiration as well as foreboding: the poem sees American expansion as both destiny and loss.

"Peace be with you, Hiawatha, Peace be with you and your people, Peace of prayer, and peace of pardon, Peace of Christ, and joy of Mary!"
The Black-Robe · Hiawatha, XXII

The missionary's greeting, which answers the peace-pipe of the first canto. The poem presents conversion as the fulfilment of the peace that Gitche Manito first gave.

To the Islands of the Blessed, To the Kingdom of Ponemah, To the Land of the Hereafter!
The narrator · Hiawatha, XXII

The last lines, which repeat Hiawatha's farewell to Minnehaha in XX. The hero's departure is at once a reunion in death and the withdrawal of his people's world from history.

Questions for study

  1. Why does Longfellow open with Gitche Manito's promise of a prophet rather than with Hiawatha's birth?

    Compare canto I with the arrival of the Black-Robe in XXII; think about prophecy and fulfilment, and about the peace-pipe at both ends of the poem.

  2. How does Hiawatha differ from the heroes of classical epic such as Akhilleus or Odysseus?

    Look at the purpose of his fast (V), the nature of his deeds (VII–IX) and the absence of war against other men.

  3. What did Longfellow change in turning Manabozho into Hiawatha, and why?

    Consider the trickster traits given to Pau-Puk-Keewis, the invented courtship, and Stith Thompson's argument about unity.

  4. How does the trochaic metre shape the poem's effects? Is it suited to the story it tells?

    Read aloud a passage of repetition, such as the famine (XX); then consider the Kalevala, Longfellow's defence of parallelism and the parodies.

  5. What role do women play in the poem?

    Think about Nokomis, Wenonah, Minnehaha, Oweenee and the ghosts, and about the simile of bow and string (X).

  6. Why is picture-writing (XIV) important to the poem's meaning?

    Hiawatha fears that traditions perish; ask how the poem itself claims to preserve them, and what that implies about the culture it preserves.

  7. How do the cantos of loss (XV–XX) prepare for the ending?

    Trace the deaths of Chibiabos, Kwasind and Minnehaha, the ghosts' lesson about the dead, and the motif of silent guests.

  8. Is the ending a vision of peaceful reconciliation or an endorsement of dispossession?

    Weigh Hiawatha's two visions in XXI, his charge to his people in XXII, and the arguments of Pearce and Dippie about the 'vanishing Indian'.

  9. What is lost when the Haudenosaunee Hiawatha and the Ojibwe Manabozho are merged?

    Consider Horatio Hale's correction, the League of the Five Nations, and the poem's tendency to present a single generic 'Indian' past.

  10. Why was The Song of Hiawatha so popular in the nineteenth century and so scorned in the twentieth?

    Think about domestic sentiment, recitation and music, the national-epic question, and Dana Gioia's account of the modernist reaction.

Further reading

  • Arvin, Newton. Longfellow: His Life and Work. Boston: Little, Brown, 1963.
  • Berkhofer, Robert F., Jr. The White Man's Indian: Images of the American Indian from Columbus to the Present. New York: Knopf, 1978.
  • Bremer, Richard G. Indian Agent and Wilderness Scholar: The Life of Henry Rowe Schoolcraft. Mount Pleasant, MI: Clarke Historical Library, Central Michigan University, 1987.
  • Calhoun, Charles C. Longfellow: A Rediscovered Life. Boston: Beacon Press, 2004.
  • Carroll, Lewis. Phantasmagoria and Other Poems. London: Macmillan, 1869.
  • Deloria, Philip J. Playing Indian. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998.
  • Dippie, Brian W. The Vanishing American: White Attitudes and U.S. Indian Policy. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1982.
  • Gioia, Dana. 'Longfellow in the Aftermath of Modernism.' In The Columbia History of American Poetry, edited by Jay Parini and Brett C. Millier, 64–96. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.
  • Hale, Horatio. The Iroquois Book of Rites. Philadelphia: D. G. Brinton, 1883.
  • Irmscher, Christoph. Longfellow Redux. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2006.
  • Krupat, Arnold. Ethnocriticism: Ethnography, History, Literature. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992.
  • Maddox, Lucy. Removals: Nineteenth-Century American Literature and the Politics of Indian Affairs. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991.
  • Moyne, Ernest J. Hiawatha and Kalevala: A Study of the Relationship between Longfellow's 'Indian Edda' and the Finnish Epic. FF Communications 192. Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1963.
  • Osborn, Chase S., and Stellanova Osborn. Schoolcraft—Longfellow—Hiawatha. Lancaster, PA: Jaques Cattell Press, 1942.
  • Parker, Robert Dale, ed. The Sound the Stars Make Rushing Through the Sky: The Writings of Jane Johnston Schoolcraft. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2007.
  • Pearce, Roy Harvey. The Savages of America: A Study of the Indian and the Idea of Civilization. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1953.
  • Schoolcraft, Henry Rowe. Algic Researches, Comprising Inquiries Respecting the Mental Characteristics of the North American Indians. First Series: Indian Tales and Legends. 2 vols. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1839.
  • Self, Geoffrey. The Hiawatha Man: The Life and Work of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor. Aldershot: Scolar Press, 1995.
  • Thompson, Stith. 'The Indian Legend of Hiawatha.' PMLA 37, no. 1 (1922): 128–140.
  • Trachtenberg, Alan. Shades of Hiawatha: Staging Indians, Making Americans, 1880–1930. New York: Hill and Wang, 2004.
  • Wallace, Paul A. W. The White Roots of Peace. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1946.

Written by the Poetry Codex editors. Updated 2026-10-19.