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[Music] [Music] If only we could go back in time, we might unravel the mystery of this place: how it was planned, how it was built, what it meant to its people. Now we can see only hints of all that was Cahokia.
A huge mound, the largest earthen monument in the Americas, and a vast series of smaller mounds arranged in patterns across the largest archaeological site north of Mexico. There is no other place like Cahokia. We are still learning its secrets, and they point to a far-reaching enterprise, to a people who had a vision for what they would build, and to a city like no other in its [Music] time.
The valley was rich, naturally abundant. Its fertile soil, laid down by the continent’s mightiest river, was hospitable to a vast range of plant species. The river, its flood plain, and the nearby bluffs provided several different habitats for a wide variety of animals. It also became a habitat for human beings who migrated into the area over 12,000 years ago. 1,000 years ago, the people here evolved into a culture we call Mississippian. These were the men and women who built the mounds.
Like earlier people, they grew squash, sunflowers, and other seed-bearing crops. Wild plants, fish, and other animals were also important food, but the fuel for their great enterprise was agriculture. When Mississippian communities started growing corn, for example, they could produce more food than they needed—a surplus. Corn grew well here; crop yields were high because corn could be stored for long periods; some could be saved for years when crops were poor. With a steady food supply, great numbers of people could make Cahokia their permanent home. Mississippians could also exchange surplus crops for meat, tools, clothing, or other items. This meant some people didn’t have to farm; they could specialize in other activities, such as tool making. So corn and other crops became more than food; they fueled a whole society.
The leader might demand a share of corn to use for a variety of purposes; his emissaries might trade their community’s surplus for rare and exotic goods, such as copper or sea shells. Mississippian communities traded in this way over a network that spanned thousands of miles, from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico, from the Atlantic Ocean to the Ozarks. All of these communities were part of the Mississippian tradition; the larger ones built massive, flat-topped mounds—huge platforms of earth where temples or other buildings were [Music] erected.
In the American Bottom region, where the Mississippi and the Missouri Rivers converge, there was an even more closely linked network. Small communities, some consisting of just a few houses planted at the edge of a cornfield, were linked to larger villages, which were themselves linked to still larger communities, some with thousands of [Music] residents. At the center of them all was [Music] Cahokia.
Cahokia—the great mounds, the vast ceremonial plazas, houses as far as the eye could see. Cahokia—it was the seed of power, of vitality, of wealth, of security. It prevailed for several hundred years. Cahokia, its many parts, was sited with great and deliberate precision. Each area had a function. There were enormous plazas for games, ceremonies, and great gatherings. There were miles of stockade wall protecting the central ceremonial area. There was a unique sun calendar that we call Woodhenge. There were fields of corn and other crops vast enough to feed up to 20,000 inhabitants and produce a surplus. There were immense pits, and from these, earth for the mounds was dug. There were ridgetop mounds marking the city’s boundaries. There were flat-topped mounds where buildings stood, and there were conical burial mounds. And there was one mound greater than all the others, greater than any other structure in the whole Mississippian world.
This great platform of earth was at the center of the community; it was the highest point and the home of the chief. From here he ruled the earth and spoke to the sky. His wealth was immeasurable, his wisdom profound, his authority unquestionable. The chief was responsible for maintaining balance between the spiritual forces of the upper world and the lower world, and perhaps even more challenging, he was responsible for maintaining order and harmony among the people. Service rendered to him was as to the gods. With his wisest advisers, the chief directed construction of the great mound, the site of his temple. For the thousands of laborers, building the mound was an act of loyalty and of faith. Building it in stages, they dug the earth with stone hoes and carried it on their backs in woven baskets, fifty to sixty pounds at a time, fifteen million times over a 300-year period. They watched the great mound as it grew, and they were [Music] proud.
Cahokia was a busy place, bustling with human energy. The people made and used tools and other objects; they obtained and prepared food; they built houses and other structures; they struggled with all the byproducts of urban life, such as crowding, garbage, crime. They raised children, nursed their sick, and buried their dead. As Cahokia grew in population, it also grew in complexity. A single family group, which in an earlier time would have been able to provide for all its own needs, now had to trade and work with other clans and families to survive. Much as in our own society, relationships extended beyond the family to weave a web of interdependence within the community. For the people of Cahokia, each day was a challenge to the body, to the mind, and to the [Music] spirit.
Like human beings everywhere and in every era, Mississippian people used their myths and beliefs to help them understand their world—its seen and unseen aspects, its known and unknown nature. We find clues to their beliefs in the rituals they performed and in the symbols they [Music] used. A seed is buried, like a friend who has passed away, and from it grows a new plant, which ripens and is harvested so that the seed may be planted again. Death follows life, and life follows death; it is a cycle never [Music] ending. Or consider the snake that lives under the earth and could be seen to emerge from its old, dead skin, wearing a fresh, new one. Or witness the sun, the giver of fire and life, advancing across the heavens in a perfect, predictable arc. Use it to chart the seasons; use it to mark the moment when day and night are equal; use it to measure the cycles of life. [Music]
Today we look back at Cahokia with boundless curiosity. Every day, new scientific techniques, new technologies, and new ideas help us to understand the culture that ruled this valley for hundreds of years, but there are still many mysteries to unravel and many discoveries to be made. For example, no one knows exactly why Cahokia began to decline sometime late in the 13th or early in the 14th century. We know the end came slowly, over many years, as Cahokia’s authority and power were challenged. We know poor nutrition and disease were growing problems. Maybe changes in climate, dwindling resources, and a growing population, or perhaps class warfare, conflicts within the group or from the outside, also contributed to the decline.
These mysteries endure, and they challenge us to think harder, to reach back with the power of imagination to a time long ago when embers, fed by the sacred fire, glowed and smoldered through the night. In those days the earth was bountiful, and my people were many, and many fires warmed us. We planted maize and prayed for blessings from the rain and the sun. We traveled far and returned with many fine things. We saw fine houses and great temples, but wherever we walked, we sang proud songs about the greatness of our home, because none we saw throughout the land could match the splendor and the majesty of this place—this place where the maize grows tallest, where the runners are most swift, where the builders reach the sky, and where the noble sun shines most brightly. [Music]