When I took my first trowel strokes, as a field school student at the historic Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Victoria (c.1864 – 1898), Alberta in 1974, I knew immediately I could get to like this work. Nearly fifty years later that feeling remains.
Canada has a long, colourful, and often tumultuous fur trade history. The fur trade, in beaver pelts, was the prime economic driver of early Canada for over three centuries. However, the trade was often viewed with either disdain or opportunity by Canada’s First Nations people who participated in it.
“Of what use to us are the skins of beavers, wolves, and foxes? Yet it is for these we get guns and axes.” (First Nations leader, Kootenae Appee, c.1808, recorded by David Thompson)
What the people of the Canadian fur trade did and how they lived is preserved in the thousands of documents left behind by Company officers, clerks, explorers, and first missionaries. It was occasionally captured in paintings by frontier artists such as Paul Kane.
But fur trade history is also preserved in the remains of many fur trade forts constructed across Canada as it expanded westward in search of new fur-rich lands. Often those fur trade forts left behind a rich archaeological record.
Alberta is no exception. In fact, the then AthapuskowCountry in today’s northern Alberta, was among the richest fur districts in North America. When American fur trader Peter Pond first discovered it in 1778, he acquired so many furs that he had to cache some because he couldn’t take them all back to Montreal.
I am often asked, how many fur trade establishments were there in Alberta? According to our Alberta inventories, that number is over 300. We are probably missing a few forts that were never recorded in the sometimes ‘sketchy’ historic documents. And as Alexander Ross’s description of Fort Assiniboine suggests, some of these places hardly deserved the name ‘fort’.
“…a petty post erected on the north bank of the river, and so completely embosomed in the woods, that we did not catch a glimpse of it until we were among huts, and surrounded by howling dogs and screeching children. At this sylvan retreat there were but three rude houses….and there was not a picket or palisade to guard them from either savage or bear. This mean abode was dignified with the name of fort.” (HBC Fort Assiniboine, 1825, described by Alexander Ross)
Many of these forts have not been found. Often their locations were poorly documented. The physical evidence they left behind is difficult to see in the dense bush when traipsing through Alberta’s densely forested river valleys.
In the dense bush of the Peace River floodplain, there are only a few hints suggesting a fur trade post once existed there – mounds representing collapsed building fireplaces and depressions representing cellars or some other type of pit. Occasionally faint depressions marking the ditches dug to place in the palisade pickets for the fort walls, still appear on the surface of the ground.
But even these features are often hard to see. Despite having found the Boyer River fort site thirty years earlier, it took over an hour to relocate a few depressions and mounds in the dense undergrowth of the Peace River floodplain.
The fur trade documentary record leaves many things to be desired. It is often a biased, one-sided description of the trade and the more important members operating in it. Company workers and Indigenous people have little or no voice in those documents.
Despite being an incomplete testimony of human history, the archaeological remains we find reflect not only the lives of a literate few but also those of the many Company servants and Indigenous peoples living at the posts who left no written record behind. Their lives are reflected in the dwellings they lived in, the possessions they made or bought, and the food they ate.
Fur trade society was stratified, primarily by one’s occupation, ethnicity, and gender. The fur trade archaeological and documentary records reveal that those individuals in the highest positions had access to the best resources. Officers’ quarters were bigger, and better constructed than those of the servants 4.
“…while the exterior is fair enough with its winter porch, protected doors, the inside was somewhat of a maze and more like a rabbit warren is supposed to be, both in excess of occupants…” (George Simpson McTavish describing the servants’ quarters at an inland fort)
The schematic drawing of the buildings at the North West Company Fort George (c.1792 – 1800) is a case in point. This drawing was completed primarily from archaeological remains since no map of the fort existed. The men’s quarters on the left housed the Company workers and their families, sometimes holding up to 10 – 12 people in tiny, confined single rooms. These dwellings were dwarfed by Chief Trader, Angus Shaw’s two-storey Big House, where he and his family resided.
The personal possessions of the Fort population inform us about their gender, beliefs, and cultural affiliations. For example, early in the fur trade when metals were new to Indigenous people, old, leaky copper pots and larger pieces of silver were repurposed and made into jewelry.
Copper and silver tinkling cones and tags, likely made by the Indigenous wives of Company men, were highly prized objects often replacing or incorporated with traditional shell and bone adornment. They also remind us of the importance of women in the trade and everyday operation of the forts.
The inequality existing among fur trade ranks is also reflected in their diet. During the early years of the western fur trade, wild game made up most of the food fort personnel ate. Often our fur trade posts contain an abundant, rich array of faunal remains.
Those animal bones, along with the surviving documents, show the large quantities of meat eaten by fort personnel. Meat and fat were rationed differently, depending on employees’ rank and position at the fort. Officers and their families often had more and better cuts of meat and were given more of the highly prized fat.
“…we have finished a Glaciere containing 500 thighs & shoulders for the consumption of April & May…” (Clerk, Duncan McGillivray, Fort George, 1794-95, describing the amount of meat required to feed the fort inhabitants.)
That amount of meat, representing 500 animals (likely bison), consumed over approximately sixty-one days, averages out to about most of eight bison a day required to feed the 160 hungry mouths at Fort George.
Category
Fresh Meat
Dried Meat
Pounded Meat
Grease
Officers Mess(2 persons)
2250 lbs
57 lbs
57 lbs
105 lbs
Officers Families (6 adults)
4283
159
6
108
Engages (8 persons)
7752
576
576
18
Engages Families (3 adults)
2612
148
148
4
Meat rations at Fort Vermilion II, 1832-33. While the Engages and their families are getting less fresh, dried, and pounded meat than the officers, they received far less fat per individual than the Officers and their families. 6
Despite the Northwest’s seemingly endless supply of resources, the fur trade’s impact on game animal populations soon showed, often in ugly ways.
“…we learn from Mr. McTavish that they are in a starving condition at Lac Verd, there being forced to pick up the fish Bones which they threw out last fall to prolong their miserable existence.” (Journal of Duncan McGillivray, 1794-95)
Alberta’s fur trade era, and that of the rest of Canada, has left a rich and varied historic footprint. It represents not only how an elite, literate portion of the population of the fur trade lived, but also how the rest of the many employees, representing a diverse number of ethnic groups, fared. While considered a darker side of Canadian colonialism, it nevertheless is part of Canadian history and cannot be ignored.
Pyszczyk, Heinz. 1992. The Architecture of the Western Canadian Fur Trade: A Cultural-Historical Perspective. Society for the Study of Architecture in Canada, Bulletin 17(2):32-41[↩]
D from Kate Duncan. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Beadwork. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas and McIntyre, Vancouver.[↩]
“…colours are the mother tongue of the subconscious” (Karl Jung)
“Even if people don’t think too hard about the colours they prefer, they are subconsciously programmed to associate certain colours with specific situations and emotions: and this is true for adults all over the globe.” 1
Note: I’ve posted two blogs about beads in human antiquity and those we find in western Canada during the post-contact period (starting approximately c.1680). In them you will find many examples of glass bead types, found in an array of colours. In this third, and final blog I’ll examine one glass trade bead attribute in considerably more detail – colour.
I’ve always been fascinated by colour. Beautiful hues and shades of red, blue and green are found both in nature and on the objects humans make.
Often I don’t know why I choose one colour over another. Others, however, know where to look for answers. As the title of this blog suggests, contemporary Indigenous beaders, such as Anishinaabe Malinda Joy Gray, know where to find their ‘spirit colours’. In their dreams. 2
Therefore, to better understand colour, I study it. Not only from my personal perspective. But from those of others as well. I examine how we choose a colour with one of the most colourful historic objects that humans ever made – beads. Beads, fashioned from every conceivable material throughout history, in almost every conceivable colour.
Nor it seems do others. Oh, I understand why plants are green and water is blue. Why hares are brown in the summer and white in the winter. But I’m often baffled why humans choose certain colours. Because when you look closely at their choices, there often are no set rules for doing so. Or obvious reasons for their choice. There are exceptions. But for the most part, humans choose colours for a host of reasons which are often very difficult to unravel and explain.
In this blog, I’ll examine the selection of historic bead colours more closely. First, I’ll start with a little background on why we choose specific colours, and how they affect us. Then, with a current example that we all can relate to, how we choose the colour of our automobiles. Finally, I’ll examine the colours of historic glass trade beads from Canada and the United States. Did Indigenous people prefer specific colours of beads over others and, if so, why? It’s a fascinating journey that takes us from the practical to some very unorthodox ways of thinking about colour. And the world we live in.
Theories of Colour Choice and Effects
“There isn’t really a rational influence to our decisions other than the color evokes an emotional and physiological response in us. Ultimately we decide what colors we like because of what we associate them with and the meaning that accompanies them.” 3
Theories about human colour choice can be divided into two basic categories: 1) theories about how certain colours affect us; and, 2) theories about why we choose certain colours.
Different colours evoke different feelings in humans. Research shows that blood pressure and EEC scores differed when subjects looked at a certain coloured sheet of paper. 3 For example, red produced a higher anxiety state in people than blue.
The reason why people choose certain colours is often associated with the cultural meanings of those colours. But, here things get a little tricky. Certain colours do not project the same meaning in different cultures, countries, or even regionally. Nor do they historically. 4
“In Japan, the color yellow is associated with courage whereas in parts of the American south it can be slang for cowardice. In many Latin American cultures, it’s the color of mourning and death. In China, yellow can have vulgar connotations. In Germany, you go yellow—not green—with envy. Head over to the Middle East and you’ll find yellow is imperial and sacred (not purple, which is associated with royalty in European cultures) often worn by members of the ruling or royal classes.” 1
However, we can make a few generalizations about colour choice and meaning. For example, people in different countries liked blue, green and white the most which often also had similar meanings (i.e., white = purity, cleanliness). However, they also liked black and red, but the meaning of those colours varied cross-culturally.
Currently, the most popular theory of why humans choose certain colours is referred to as Ecological Valence Theory. In short, this theory states that humans prefer certain colours over others because of objects they either like or dislike associated with that colour. 5
“…people often like blue hues because it reminds them of clear skies and clean water. On the other hand, people tend to shy away from brown hues because they remind us of feces or rotting food… 6
I happen to own a pair of brown pants. As an archaeologist who often works in the dirt and associates it with good things, perhaps that’s the reason I’m among the few who like brown.
Some researchers have even gone so far as to suggest that is difficult if not impossible to find a negative object to associate with blue. In other words, there are few blue objects we think about negatively.
Other theories state that colour has functions. For example, the colours you choose inform others about yourself, your family or your group. Or, certain objects are certain colours because of their high degree of visibility. According to one researcher, among the western Canadian Metis, many objects such as firebags, mitts, and whips were highly colourful so they wouldn’t get lost. 7 I can relate to this idea. When working in the boreal forest we tie bright orange flagging tape to our equipment so we don’t lose it in the dense foliage.
Whatever the reason(s), the choice of colour and the feelings we associate with it, is far from a random event. Whether we consciously know it, or not.
The Colours of the Automobiles We Drive
Before examining why people preferred certain glass bead colours historically, we’ll first look at colour choice in an object we all can relate to. The colour of our automobiles.
In a recent article in Autoloansolutions, the three main reasons people pick certain colours for their automobiles are: 1) Personal preference; 2) Resale value; and, 3) Bird droppings. 8
Yes, you read right. Bird Droppings! According to some studies, for whatever reason, birds like to dump most on red and blue cars.
As already suggested certain colours have certain meanings in human cultures and therefore signal to others something about you. In the automobile article, for example, black = intrigue/mystery; blue = confidence/integrity/stability; red = aggressive/expensive; white = innocence/purity.
However, according to colour symbolism experts, each of those same colours may have different meanings in different countries throughout the world. But, studies have shown, regardless of where you live on this planet and what those colours signify, black, white, and silver are the top colours for automobiles.
And this is where resale value comes in. If you want to eventually sell your car, you might pay attention to the most popular colours for cars (if they’re still in style when you want to sell). Given today’s colour preferences, no one’s going to buy that bright neon green auto of yours.
My Automobile Colour Study
I did a little automobile colour study in Alberta (Canada), Iceland, Istanbul (Turkey), and Stellenbasch (South Africa) this past year. I picked spots at random and counted the number of different car colours. My sample size ranged from 52 – 115. Today colours are no longer primary or secondary but different shades of grey, blue, silver and white; and a dizzying array thereof. I simply chose the one that was closest to a primary and secondary colour.
“Gray is the color of intellect and of compromise. It’s a diplomatic color, negotiating all the distance between black and white. We typically consider gray to be conservative, elegant, and cool, though it can be a bit mysterious. We think of gray as solemn and serious, the color of business suits and sophistication.”9
What theories about colour, including my automobile study, basically point out is that even though there is considerable overlap of colour choice among peoples throughout the world, there is often a difference in the ranking of those preferences in different parts of the world. And the meaning of those colours is not constant in the world. The meaning of black differs in the Muslim and Western world. Grey is considered a very conservative colour in the West. In China silver is a symbol of wealth, cleanliness, and purity; in Germany, sophistication.
The bottom line is that trying to interpret meaning from colour, only leads to a diverse array of possibilities. Many of which cannot be determined if we cannot ask people about them. Such as the historic period. That is because, if Ecological Valence Theory has any merit, people’s choices of colour are based on their associations and history with it – either bad, good or perhaps neutral. Many of those associations and histories are different to some degree. However, what is also interesting is that white, silver, and grey are all seen as positive, regardless of their different specific meanings.
Therefore, if we simplify these results, we might conclude that the most popular colours are associated with positive objects, feelings and meanings, regardless of what those are. When we dive into the murky past, this fundamental fact becomes important, because we cannot always determine precisely what meanings or significance of colours were for a diverse North American Indigenous population.
A Description of Fur Trade Glass Bead Colours in Historic Canada
“Oh I love all colours, I go to a store where they have beads and I imagine all kinds of flowers and I pick up everything when I’m in there – colours I don’t have. I must have over 200 kinds of colours…” (Isabelle Dorion Impey, Cumberland House, northern Saskatchewan, Canada) 10
Sources of Information and Accuracy About Historic Glass Bead Colours
Information about fur trade bead colours and varieties comes primarily from historic White written records and fur trade archaeological collections. And, unfortunately, less so from historic Indigenous written or oral accounts.
The accuracy of these types of historic evidence varies. Written accounts can be biased or records vague, or incomplete. But while there are problems, it should be kept in mind that Euro-Canadian traders had to be accurate about Indigenous bead preferences because their very business depended upon it.
Glass beads recovered from the fur trade archaeological record reflect both what was used by Indigenous women living in the forts and what was traded to Indigenous people regionally.
Basic Characteristics of Colour and Its Description
To better understand glass bead colours we first have to know a few things about colour. Not only what different colours look like, but how they are categorized and described.
The standardization of different colours first started with Issac Newton’s colour wheel in 1666, and eventually to other standardized schemes including the Munsell colour system, developed by Albert Munsell in the early 1900s.
The charts classify colours numerically based on three categories in three-dimensional space: hue, value (lightness/darkness), and chroma (intensity of colour). Hue refers to basic colours, such as red, green, blue, etc. In the Munsell system, these are given letter codes, i.e. Red (R), Yellow-Red (YR), Green (G), Green-Yellow (GY) and so on. Value is how light or dark a colour is. In the Munsell system, value is indicated with a number, i.e. 2, 4, 6 and so on. The value scale runs vertically and moves from lightest (at the top) to darkest (at the bottom) in descending order, so a 2 is going to be lighter than a 6. Chroma refers to the degree of strength of a colour. Chroma ranges from 2-14 (upwards of 30 for colours in the fluorescent family). Archaeologists, when researching glass bead colour, also refer to diaphaneity – the degree of transparency or opacity of a bead, or, the quantity of light that can travel through a bead.
However, the Munsell Colour Chart is not the Holy Grail of colours. Based on my personal experience, the problem with this colour scheme is threefold: 1) it wasn’t used historically to describe colours; so the historic colours don’t match the Munsell colour descriptions; 2) it isn’t used consistently by archaeologists; and, 3) people see colours of objects differently depending on their eyesight, the degree of light present, or even the degree of moisture in sediment, for example. These problems, added to the fact that glass bead batch colours were often not standardized, make for an interesting stew.
“All told, therefore, there is room for considerable variation in colour, and 18th-century and earlier beads differ considerably in this regard from those made in the 19th and 20th centuries when strict standardization became the rule.”14
I am certain that European glass bead makers devised their bead colours using some sort of basic standard scheme, as some of the descriptions of historic bead colours suggest. For example in the Fort Union, Montana inventories, glass beads are listed as ‘blue, white, chalk white, red, green, black, yellow, coral, Cornelian, mock garnet, milk white, agate, sky blue, and purple. 15 While all the basic hues are listed, value, and chroma are absent or somehow embedded in the colour’s name. Milk or chalk white might be descriptors for diaphaneity, in this case likely ‘translucent’ or ‘opaque’. If you look up ‘Cornelian’, it refers to a variety of oranges and reds to almost black, which if we don’t have the bead, really doesn’t tell us much. And ‘sky blue’ likely refers to a bead’s value on the lightness/darkness scale, but where exactly is often difficult to determine from the name in the historic documents.
While determining a bead’s colour by using the various colour wheels has its drawbacks, the importance of these colour descriptions of glass beads recovered in the archaeological record is considerable, given the often poor, inconsistent historic documentary descriptions available. However, many of the archaeological bead colour descriptions are of our making, often based on the colour wheel such as Munsell’s. But, at least we can assign photographs of the beads with these descriptions, giving readers the opportunity of seeing these colours.
In the table below, is a word description of glass seed bead colours, from the American Fur Company (1858-59). Since colour wheels and some sort of standardization were already common then, would these colours also be similar to what we call them today?
Before delving further into glass bead colour, my final warning is that at a comparative level, between different glass bead assemblages collected archaeologically, the data are a minefield to be trodden through carefully. And so is the photography of different glass bead colours in the available publications. According to archaeologist Steven Devore, there is colour distortion when looking at photographed beads. He is one of the few researchers who try to get around this problem by using a colour bar in his photographs and describing exactly what Munsell colour it represents. I have borrowed his idea and applied it to some of the figures below.
Archaeologists come in two forms when it comes to categorizing glass bead colour. There are ‘lumpers’ and there are ‘splitters’. Some archeologists have used the Munsell Colour chart extensively (listing hue, value, and chroma); others to a lesser extent when analyzing bead colours. Still, others haven’t bothered with variety/shades of colours. They use mostly colour hue in their descriptions, with some degree of ‘value’ (light, medium, dark), and ‘diaphaneity’ (transparent, translucent, opaque). As we shall see shortly, both methods have their advantages and disadvantages.
Below is an example of a range of glass bead colours taken from both American and Canadian fur trade forts from western North America. The colour varieties go from one extreme to the other and are often difficult to compare unless the actual bead is illustrated in colour.
Bead Color
NWC George (1792-1800)
Nottingham House (1801-03)
Fort D’Tremble (1791-98)
Fort Union (1829-67)
Fort Vancouver (1829-66)
Amber
x
x
Light amber
x
Reddish amber
Yellowish amber
x
Amethyst
x
Opaque black
x
x
x
x
x
Blue
x
x
x
x
x
Light blue
x
x
x
Shadow blue
x
x
Turquoise blue
x
x
x
Aqua blue
x
Dark blue
x
x
Dutch blue
x
Medium blue
x
Dusty blue
x
Copen blue
x
Grayish blue
x
Purplish blue
x
Light purplish blue
x
Dark purplish blue
x
Dark brown
x
Cinnamon
x
Colorless
x
x
x
Green
x
x
x
x
x
Light green
x
Dark pale green
x
x
x
x
Aqua green
x
x
x
Apple green
x
Palm green
x
x
x
Yellowish green
x
Light gold
x
x
Light gray
x
x
Pink
x
x
Light pink
x
Light purple
x
Bluish purple
x
Light reddish purple
x
Dark purple
x
x
Red
x
x
Red-blue
x
Brownish red
Light red
x
Dark red
x
x
Dark purplish red
x
Opague redwood
x
x
Rose
x
Light cherry rose
x
Rose wine
x
x
x
Ruby
x
x
Scarlet
x
Turquoise
x
Bright turquoise
x
Opague white
x
x
x
x
x
Oyster white
x
Pale yellow white
x
Yellow
x
x
x
x
Greenish yellow
x
Varieties =
11
20
21
19
29
Basic colors =
8
6
8
9
9
The presence of glass bead colour hues and varieties (according to value, chroma, and diaphaneity). Some archaeologists list basic hues and diaphaneity, and perhaps a value. While others, such as Lester Ross, National Parks Service, go into considerably more detail in glass bead colour description. I will consider Ross’s bead colour descriptions in more detail below.
Archaeologist Wayne Davis lists glass bead colours for twenty-six historic fur trade sites and Indigenous sites in Canada and the USA, but keeps it relatively simple: white, blue, black, green, yellow, red, pink, purple, turquoise, amber, grey, magenta, orange, clear, and violet. Each of those basic colours could be opaque, translucent, or transparent, resulting in a slightly different value and chroma, and thus ultimately a different shade of colour. 18
Bead Color
Period I: 1700-1740
Period II: 1741-67
Period IIIa: 1768-80
Period IIIb: 1781-1820
Period IV: 1821-36
1837-1850
Brittany
x
Blue op
x
xxx
x
xxx
xx
Gobelin
x
Blue tls
x
x
xxx
Fern green
x
x
Black
xxxxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xx
White op
xxxxx
x
xxxx
xxxxxx
xxx
Magenta op
x
Magenta-black
xx
Red op
x
xxxx
x
Amber-black
Green op
x
xxxx
xx
Yellow op
x
xxx
x
Purple
xxxx
x
Brown, dark
xx
Yellow-black
xx
blue tls
x
x
xx
Green, tsl
xxxxxx
Clear
xx
x
xxx
xx
Magenta tsl
xx
Light Blue tsl
x
xx
x
Dark Blue tsl
xx
x
x
xx
xxx
Violet tsl
x
Maroon op
x
Green, dark op
x
Violet-black
x
Amber tsl
x
xx
xxx
xx
Pink tsl
x
x
Red tsl
xxxxxx
xxxxxx
xx
Navy blue
x
Pale green tsl
x
Dark violet tsl
x
x
Dark red tsl
x
Sky blue op
x
xx
Peacock blue tsl
x
x
x
xxx
Yellow, tsl
xx
Emerald green
xx
x
x
Pink op
x
Yale blue tsl
xxx
xxx
Dark green tsl
x
Yellow-amber tsl
x
Turquoise op
x
x
xx
xx
xx
Dark wine stsl
x
Gold op
x
White tsl
x
x
x
xx
Bronze op
x
Bright orange
x
Yellow-orange
x
Cobalt blue tsl
x
Jade green op
x
x
Indigo blue
x
Peacock blue op
xx
Robin’s egg blue op
xx
Dark purple tsl
x
Brilliant blue tsl
x
Yellow op
xx
Aquamarine op
xx
Peacock green op
x
Yale blue op
x
Surf green op
x
Heliotrope op
x
Pearl white
x
Chrystal
x
Total Varieties
10
19
6
14
42
27
***(tsp = transparent; tsl = translucent; op = opaque)
Wayne Davis’s glass trade bead colours were taken from 26 trading posts and First Nations archaeological sites from the USA and Canada. The glass beads range from as early as c.1700 to c.1850. The x’s in each column represent how often the various glass bead colour types occur in each period found in the various collections. Because the number of sites and beads in each period varies, the number of colour varieties may not be a true reflection of preference for each period. However, after 1820 when fur trade posts were established further west in the USA, and direct trading at posts began there is a greater proliferation of bead colour varieties. This increase in varieties may have more to do with glass bead assemblages coming from trading posts instead of Indigenous campsites.
I have taken Lester Ross’s glass bead colour scheme and presented his colours, to give you some idea of the range and variation in glass bead colour. Often it is considerable, even in just one primary colour. This enormous collection of over 120,000 beads, spanning a considerable period likely contains every possible bead colour ever sent to the fort. It would reflect what the Hudson’s Bay Company would have in stock at the time in that region. I personally, after looking a many fur trade assemblages, rarely see beads outside Ross’s bead colour range. The exceptions may be gold and silver beads which are more common in the latter part of the 19th century.
Below are examples of Ross’s Fort Vancouver glass bead colour varieties. I have listed the Munsell code under each colour so that if you wish you can check these published colours against those found in the Munsell colour chart. I found, even when pasting certain colours into a word program that the colours occasionally changed slightly.
Historic References to Indigenous Colour Preference and Meaning
I was fascinated by an article about the use of colour on the Northwest Coast, written in the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian, by Melonie Ancheta. 21 In it she makes two very important points about the meaning and use of colour: 1) Northwest Coast First Nations had a long history (before colonization) of using colours – primarily black, red, blue and green; and, 2) these colours were integrated into their culture, their, “…cosmologies, rituals and daily life…”
And, as Ancheta points out, there were long-standing rules, or customs, of ways of using these colours and painting specific pieces of art or spiritual attire. Or certain colours were associated with certain segments of Northwest Coast society. Blue (made from vivianite), 22 for example was more associated with shamans, clan treasures, ceremonial objects, and reserved for nobility in Tlingit society.
My point is, that before European contact, many primary colours (red, yellow, blue, green, white, black) 24 were already well-established in North American Indigenous societies. There were likely rules for their use (now mostly lost) and meaning behind them. Glass trade beads, and the various colours they came in, were integrated into already well-established Indigenous traditional schemes.
Since blue was difficult to make, it’s not surprising to find historic quotes stating that on North America’s Northwest Coast, many First Nations tribes valued blue glass trade beads the most. Just how the introduction of these beads, now more readily acquired by anyone who would trade, affected traditional uses of the colour (which because the mineral vivianite was hard to acquire and therefore relegated to only certain objects and people), is a question worth considering. 25
And on the Great Plains of North America, various First Nations societies had similar preferences. Here are a few examples:
Among the Arikara: “…any object which exceeds that of a buffalo robe. Ammunition, knives, spears, blue beads, tomahawks, and framed mirrors are the only articles for which they are willing to exchange their robes.”26
Among the Sioux: “The blue bead, as precious here as porcelain among the nations of the Mississippi…”27
Archaeologist Wayne Davis summarizes colour preferences (supported by numerous historic quotes), by North American Plains First Nations this way:
“As these different excerpts seem to suggest, blue and white, in that order, were without question the most popular colors for all the Plains’ tribes, as well as for many of the tribes in the Pacific Northwest and elsewhere.” 28
Undoubtedly as the archaeological glass bead samples suggest, although Indigenous people used other bead colours, blue and white glass trade beads were by far the most common. In 1854, for example, according to ethnographer, Edwin Denig discussing glass bead colour preference on the Upper Missouri, “Small round beads of all colors are used in adorning every portion of their dress.”29
It is evident then, that there was also a great deal of commonality in glass bead colour preference amongst different Indigenous groups over a large geographical area. As an example, western Plains and coastal peoples preferred blue and white beads over all others. Archaeologist Steven DeVore (1992:60-61) states that blue, white and black were generally the most popular colours amongst Northern Plains First Nations, but red, green, yellow, and lavender were also used but in smaller quantities. 30
During the initial contact period in the mid to late 18th Century, Alaskan First Nations peoples preferred blue and white beads most, but used other bead colours as well. 31
According to ethnologist Kate Duncan (1989:44) the Fort Yukon journals indicate that there was a definite change in bead colour preference by the late 1860s to more of a demand for amber, crystal, blue, white, black, red, and ruby. As well, in other parts of the northwest, more variation in bead colours occurs temporally 32
According to Alexander Henry for the Assiniboine during the late 18th to early 19th Century, the most sought-after trade goods included, “…brass rings, brass wire, blue beads, and other trinkets.”33
Others, however, suggest that not only were blue beads the most highly valued but that certain colours had meaning or rules about where they could be worn. “The women ornament their dresses….with broad diversified stripes of sky to blue and white beads. The Indians do not like beads of other colours, for instance, red next to the skin.”34
When the Kutchin people met Alexander MacKenzie they demanded blue beads over all others. 35
Unfortunately, virtually nothing is said about the degree of variability of colour preference within specific First Nations groups or other potential temporal changes of colour preference between First Nations groups. According to Duncan (1989:78), there was individual variability in colour preference and regional preferences even among Athabascan-speaking people. Pink, aqua and green beads dominated Eastern Athabascan beadwork, while white, navy, green, red, pink, greasy yellow, and green dominated western Athabascans. 32
If we can generalize, these are the predominant glass trade bead colours used historically by First Nations, Inuit, and Metis people:
Sioux: white background, bold blues, yellow, shades of green and pink;
Cheyenne: white background, more turquoise and transparent beads, red;
Ojibwa: multi-coloured backgrounds, dark red, clear, and black;
Cherokee: more black in beading than other First Nations groups;
Eastern Woodland: floral patterns and lots of multi-coloured designs;
North West Coast: heavy emphasis on dark blue, and white;
Blackfoot: white background, heavy emphasis on blue beads; other colours used sparingly;
Dene: multi-coloured backgrounds and many colours used in designs; greater emphasis on blue further west;
Inuit: white and many black beads;
Metis: “the more colours, the better.” (Bertha Desjarlais) 36
Unfortunately, there are only a few references, such as Duncan’s, in the literature about any continuity of colour use from the prehistoric to the initial contact period, and beyond, in western North America. According to Alexander Mackenzie, at the time of contact, quill work and moose hair were the primary decorative embroidery in the Northwest Territories using natural dyes of red, black, yellow, white, and blue. 37
SITE/REGION
Volume (lbs)
White (%)
Blue (%)
Other (%)
HBC Inland, western Canada, 1799
330.5
25.3
48.4
26.3
NWC Inland, western Canada, 1792
113.0
33.0
67.0
–
HBC Nottingham House Inventory, 1803
7.75
38.7
61.3
–
Nottingham House – Presents or Traded, 1803
3.0
33.0
66.0
–
Fort Union, 1840 Inventory
1,728
46.8
53.2
–
Glass trade bead inventories from three different sources, ranging from 1792 – 1840. These figures show not only how extensive the trade of glass beads was but that blue and white were by far the most preferred colours among Indigenous people living on the Northern Great Plains to people much further north in the Athabasca region of Northern Alberta, Canada.
But, by the late 18th century, and then by the end of the 19th century the glass bead colour palette was extensive. Glass bead styles and colours were in high demand in the Indigenous world. And if not met, trade suffered:
“….the frustrations involved in trying to ensure an up-to-date inventory of beads of acceptable size and color for a market that changed faster than the time required to order and receive goods from England.” (Trader Alexander Murray, Fort Yukon)38
Colour as a Means of Communication
“People give objects meaning, but cultural meaning is rarely stable. Objects and clothing actions that had significance in certain historic contexts are sometimes forgotten, while others endure for generations.”39
Different colours can have meaning – which is often very elusive to determine historically, as the above quote suggests. But, at a more base level, colour can also be used as a means of communication, and thereby carry information and meaning. For example, different colours or colour combinations can be used to communicate one’s ethnic affiliation and social position to others. Historically we may be able to reconstruct ethnic affiliation (i.e., certain groups using a specific array of colours or proportionally more of one colour than others) and social position (i.e, the use of a certain colour by certain individuals in a group) by simply aligning various colours with different ethnic groups or sub-groups.
Colour and bead patterns can therefore be examined using different units of analysis of comparison. In historical archaeology, unlike most prehistoric archaeology, we often have an accompanying historic record to help identify and define those units of analysis, enabling us to then investigate whether people, regionally, in communities or individually used colour as a means of social expression. There are hints that indeed this might be true. But, as we have seen it is difficult, if not impossible, to examine this question with fur trade post inventories, because the records are often incomplete or vague to use for comparative purposes.
According to those historic records, colour, including that of glass trade beads, defined groups and social positions (i.e., rank, gender).
Regional Level: According to Sherry Farrell Racette, when discussing Metis beadwork and colours: “The vitality of the colour palette of nineteenth century beadwork and embroidery corresponds with the comparative prosperity and vigor of that collective identity. Smaller Half Breed collectives, not associated with the Métis, also used clothing and common aesthetics to communicate distinctiveness.”40
2. Community Level: Distinctions between communities are often also expressed in bead colour differences: “Small decorative elements could also distinguish the work of one community from another. Moccasins made in Ile à la Crosse, particularly those made by the grandmothers of the community, have a distinct visual marker that identifies their community of origin. Three to four rows of alternating deep blue and white beads outline the beaded vamps. The same blue and white border is used on cuffs and other pieces of beadwork. Within the larger aesthetic tradition, regions, communities and individuals developed recognizable styles.”41
3. Family level: “Some elders recalled specific colours and designs associated with particular families. I remember] that story my grandfather told me about the sashes and it was in the context of him lamenting that you couldn’t leave your stuff out any more that people just stole it. He said that long ago you didn’t do that because people knew what was yours. If you had it wrapped with your sash everybody knew it was yours because of the colours the family used. They knew that it belonged to the Bouviers, or it belonged to the Gardiner’s or to the Daigneault’s. It was essentially a way of marking.” 42
4. Individual Level: Among Metis men, different coloured hats distinguished them from white gentlemen and officers. “Cowie described “low, broad brimmed black hats” worn by the Métis, while “grey felt” was worn by “gentlemen and officers.” Age was also a factor in headgear chosen by “younger Metis [who] favored rather than the hat, pill box caps of fine black cloth or velvet, adorned with beads or colored silk work and a large black silk tassel attached to the crown.”43
What the Archaeological Record Reveals About Bead Colour Preference
“It is doubtful if comprehensive examination of all records for a number of posts over a period of time would yield a clear understanding of beads traded there, particularly since the bead company records to help in the clarification of terms, sizes, and colors are not available.”44
Ethnographers have essentially dismissed the reliability of historic fur trade fort records to provide accurate information about Indigenous glass trade bead preferences, including colour.
What about the archaeological records in western Canada? Are they a reliable source of information about Indigenous bead colour preferences? Where we often find thousands of glass trade beads at these forts. It seems, here too there are problems. Let’s investigate a few of them.
Researcher Bias in Glass Bead Colours – A Small, but Necessary Diversion
What is it about these archaeological assemblages that might make us hesitate to use them to investigate Indigenous bead colour preference? Two types of bias come to mind: 1) whether fort bead assemblages truly represent what Indigenous people used in a region; and, 2) whether there is any bias in the way the beads were collected.
In the first instance, most glass bead assemblages come from excavated fur trade sites and very few historic indigenous encampments or settlements in western Canada. Is it safe to interpret outside (the fort) Indigenous bead colour preference directly from these fort assemblages which represent both what beads were traded to people bringing in their furs and what Indigenous people living at the forts were consuming?
However, the fort inventories, representing what bead colours were traded or gifted to Indigenous people do seem to be similar (on an ordinal scale of comparison) to the fort bead archaeological assemblages. 45
Occasionally there are instances where direct proof can be obtained, such as comparing a historic fort bead sample directly to an Indigenous camp sample to see how similar they were.
Archaeologist, Aaron Crowell was able to make such a comparison. 31 He compared the Indigenous encampment bead samples to the fort bead assemblages. I summarized Crowell’s results below. In terms of proportions, and ordinal rank the two later period (post-1830) bead colours were very similar.
The second problem with the archaeological bead assemblage involves recovery bias. Seed beads, less than 2mm in diameter, are the most common type of bead. They are hard to see when excavating and historically some of the darker-coloured beads may have been more easily lost if accidentally dropped. While it’s virtually impossible to verify the latter inference, we can examine whether our methods might be biased toward the recovery of more visible coloured beads (white, and yellow, for example).
Some archaeological studies suggest there is no bias in bead colour recovery during excavations. 46
While excavating at the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c.1798-1830) site we conducted a similar experiment to see if we could replicate the Bundy et. al results. As the figures below show, our results differed considerably from theirs. Not only did we recover proportionally more seed beads (twenty-three percent more) in the fine screens, but also proportionally more of the darker bead colours. 48
So, as you can see, most types of historic evidence used to examine Indigenous bead colour preference have their setbacks. Including the archaeological record. Those deficiencies must be kept in mind when considering my following interpretations about Indigenous bead colour preference.
Temporal and Regional Trends in Archaeological Bead Assemblages
Despite difficulties with the archaeological evidence can we still discern some trends in the glass trade bead data that inform on Indigenous glass bead colour preference in western Canada? And, the meaning of, or factors responsible for, those trends?
In a 2015 monograph describing the Fort Vermilion I archaeological results I undertook an extensive investigation of the archaeological bead assemblage and Indigenous colour preference. 49 Consult this source for a more in-depth look at my results. And, where I feel more detail is necessary here, I will include it in the footnotes.
My glass bead samples come primarily from fur trade posts in Alberta, Canada, but occasionally I incorporate evidence from further afield.
Below is a list of glass bead assemblages from fur trade forts and other historic sites used in this study. Although there are more archaeological assemblages, not all of them were used because some cover long periods and therefore are inadequate to examine possible glass bead colour changes over more discrete periods of time.
For the first comparisons I have simplified the bead colour palette because of the many different ways glass bead colours have been described in the literature. Also, historically blue and white were the most common or popular colours. And the most profound changes, either temporally or ethnically (e.g., Dene vs Blackfoot) occurred in the proportions of the use of these two colours but also the use of a more different or diverse range of colours either temporally or regionally. This then leaves us with three basic bead colour categories: 1) white; 2) blue; and, 3) other (all other coloured beads). Even though there are many hues of blues or whites, I have simply lumped them all together for these comparisons.
I also divided the available glass trade bead assemblages into broad categories representing time and space. These divisions were chosen for practical and historical reasons. Unfortunately, not all fur trade sites were occupied in neat discreet units of time. This unevenness makes it difficult to examine bead colour preferences over time. 50
Secondly, according to Kate Duncan 32 and Karlis Karklins 51 somewhere around 1830, the Indigenous floral design in embroidery and beadwork continued to spread to northwestern North America from its place of origin in eastern Canada. How did this change from the use of primarily geometric patterns to floral designs by Indigenous populations affect the proportions of the above bead categories? Surely flower designs weren’t just blue and white.
Therefore, based on these historic circumstances, I divided the bead assemblages into those that represented the pre-1830 period and those that represented the post-1830 period to answer this question.
Nor were the various Indigenous groups relegated to discreet geographical areas. Boundaries were fluid and overlap occurred. To complicate things even more, as the population of people of mixed ancestry (white-first Nations unions) grew, most women (partners of fort employees) living at the fur trade forts were of Metis origin. However, as the above diagram shows First Nations groups who used a mostly geometric design occupied the southern parts of the Saskatchewan District and those that used a floral design lived mostly in the Athabaska District. Metis people, highly renowned for their floral embroidery and beadwork, resided in both districts.
Other First Nations, Metis and fur trade fort bead assemblages.
Glass Bead Colour Proportions
“When glass beads became available to the Athapaskans in sufficient quantity for embroidery, they were readily applied to garments and accessories in the decorative traditions already established using porcupine quills and seeds. Beads were definitely present among some Athapaskans in both the east and the west sometime during the eighteenth century, but the details of their arrival remain lost to history.” 87
Not only was the first adoption of glass beads by Athabascan speakers murky but so also were bead colour preferences by various other historic Indigenous groups in western Canada. Did those colour preferences change over time?
I will first examine this question with two northern fur trade bead assemblages spanning the pre- and post-1830 periods – Fort Vermilion I (c.1798-1830) and Fort Vermilion II (c.1830-1934). Both forts are located in northern Alberta along the Peace River approximately eighty kilometres apart from one another. Both forts served a primarily northern Athapaskan population, but to a lesser extent also Cree and Metis. The results of the comparison of their respective bead colour proportions are shown below. There was a considerable increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category in the post-1830 Fort Vermilion II assemblage.
In the next comparison, I combined all the fur trade fort bead assemblages and then divided them into two time periods. The results, shown below, indicated that there is an increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category in the post-1830 bead assemblages.
Since we are also interested in comparing possible regional differences in bead colour preferences, I divided the bead assemblages into both time (pre-1830) and space (Northern and Central/Southern). The results, shown below, indicate that not only do bead colour preferences change over time, but also regionally. But, at different rates. Over time, there is a far greater increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category in the northern bead assemblages (31%) than in central/southern bead assemblages (19%).
Are these changes in bead colour preferences just a regional phenomenon or are they more widespread than just in Western Canada? Although currently my database is limited to examine this question more thoroughly, the results (shown below), suggest it is more widespread. 88 But, again there is a far higher rate of change in the ‘other ‘ bead category in these northern assemblages than in those further south. When all the northern assemblages (Athabasca, Mackenzie, Alaska) combined are compared to southern assemblages there is a 26% increase in the former and only 16% in the latter (shown in the table below).
While the changes in these bead colour proportions are real enough, finding explanations for them is somewhat more difficult. Especially when we consider that various different ethnic groups inhabited each region. The crux of the issue comes down to this: even though different Indigenous groups occupied each region, their greater spatial proximity to one another (than to people in other regions) resulted in more similar use of bead colours. Is spatial proximity that powerful a factor, despite considerable Indigenous ethnic diversity in a region, to create continuity in bead colour choice?
Unfortunately, currently, I don’t have the kind of data to explore this possibility in more detail. Numerous historic references seem to support this view. Our automobile colour study also seems to suggest as much despite the considerable ethnic diversity in some of those countries (more so in Canada and South Africa than Iceland and Turkey).
Number of Glass Bead Colour Varieties
While there seem to be differences in bead colour proportions temporally and regionally, exactly what was changing? The above bead colour categories mask some of the changes that might be occurring in the ‘other’ bead colour category. Were more bead colour varieties being added temporally or regionally to account for these higher proportions? Or were only certain colours in the ‘other’ category being used more frequently thereby increasing the relative proportions in the ‘other’ bead colour category?
Source/Fort
Median Occupation Date
Bead Colour Varieties
Total Beads
Davis
1720
10
N/A
Davis
1754
19
N/A
Davis
1774
6
N/A
Fort D’Tremblante
1794
20
20119
Fort George
1796
11
20894
Buckingham House
1796
N/A
Augustus/Edmonton I
1798.5
4
12
Rocky Mountain Fort
1799
9
17176
Davis
1800.5
14
Nottingham House
1802
20
2887
Rocky Mountain House (HBC)
1810
7
10832
Rocky Mountain House (NWC)
1810
26
6512
Edmonton/Augustus III
1811.5
14
1308
Vermilion I
1814
13
1460
Wedderburn
1828
9
81
Davis
1828.5
42
N/A
Davis
1843.5
27
N/A
Fort Union
1848
19
38490
Vancouver
1847.5
29
55000
Fort Edmonton V
1867.5
12
80
Last Mountain House
1871
21
60063
Vermilion II
1880
11
419
Fort Victoria
1881
16
803
Dunvegan
1898
8
27
Mean: Median Dates
1720 – 1828
13
Mean: Median Dates
1828.5 – 1898
19.4
Data come from the same sources cited in an earlier Table. The median occupation date refers to the central date of occupation for a fort. For example, if a fort was occupied from 1800 – 1810, the median occupation date would be 1805.
While seemingly straightforward forward this is a very difficult question to answer with bead archaeological assemblages. Namely, because bead colour variety is not just a function of what people used historically. It is also dependent on archaeological sample size, and even archaeological site occupation length. 89
I took what available data there was regarding bead colour variety and made some preliminary comparisons. In these comparisons, bead colour variety refers to all bead colours, including shades of white and blue. Although the historic documentary literature points toward a greater variety of bead colours in the market over time, this does not necessarily mean that people used more of them. The raw data for these comparisons are shown in the table below.
The scattergram below, comparing the median archaeological site occupation dates (X-Axis) to the number of bead colour varieties (Y-Axis) seems to confirm this observation. There was no steady increase in the number of glass bead colours over time.
When the mean variety of bead colours is compared between sites with occupation dates before and after c.1828 there is an increase (from 13 to 19.4 colour varieties in the total sample and from 15 to 19.3 colour varieties in the samples with high bead numbers). However, despite this increase, statistically the means are the same. 91
The above results suggest there was considerable variability in several glass bead colour varieties through both time and space. Keeping space constant (comparing assemblages of different periods within a region), I wanted to see first if differences existed. I examined bead colour variety between Fort Vermilion I and II – two forts in the same region but from different periods. The results shown in the figure below along with comparisons between regions and time, do not show the expected trend of the use of more colour varieties through time. Nor do they show what the comparisons of bead colour proportions showed – namely a greater use of ‘other’ colours in the northern bead assemblages.
It seems, therefore, that the greater proportional use of ‘other’ bead colours either temporally or regionally (i.e., higher in the northern bead assemblages than the Saskatchewan District assemblages), is not a function of the use of a greater variety of bead colours.
If it’s not the result of a selection of greater bead colour variety, then why do the proportions of the ‘other’ bead colour category increase over time and regionally? Let’s take a specific example where bead colour proportions change through time but bead colour remains relatively similar – Fort Vermilion I and II. Below is a breakdown of the glass bead colours recovered from the two forts.
Fort Vermilion I (2014-16 sample)
Fort Vermilion II
Colour
Quantity
Percent
Quantity
Percent
Black
17
9
0
0
Clear
4
2
1
1
Dark Indigo
22
11
0
0
Turquoise
1
0.5
2
1
Grey
1
0.5
1
1
Pink on Green
18
9
0
0
Pink
4
2
81
49
Pink, medium
2
1
0
0
Dark Purple
3
2
2
1
Red
41
21
42
25
Yellow
79
41
8
5
Green
0
0
26
16
Total
192
99
163
Total Bead Sample
1460
Total Colours
11
8
Comparison of glass bead colours (other than white or blue) from Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830) and Fort Vermilion II (c.1830 – 1930). The total bead sample size for Fort Vermilion II is 419. 92
The first thing to note is that some colours are either absent or change in importance (percent) over time – there is a dramatic increase in pink and green over time and a decline in Dark Indigo, black and yellow while red remains relatively constant. Preference for certain different bead colours is changing while it seems the use of greater varieties of bead colours is not. 93
And if you look more closely at the data, even though there are fewer bead colours in the Fort Vermilion II bead assemblage, the first three highest bead colour percentages make up 90% of all colours while they only make up 73% in the Fort Vermilion bead assemblage. In short, fewer bead colours occur in larger quantities in the Fort Vermilion II assemblage. And their high numbers relative to total bead assemblage (counting all the whites and blues) account for the proportional increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category. These differences are graphically depicted below in the cumulative percentage graph.
A comparison of two bead assemblages from different regions in Alberta produced similar results to those above. Below is a list of bead colours from the Athabasca region HBC Nottingham House (c.1801 – 1803) and the Saskatchewan District NWC Rocky Mountain House (c.1799 – 1821). Even though Rocky Mountain House had 26 different colour varieties, most of these were different shades of blue with only twelve actual different colours. It is also obvious that the ordinal rank of colours between the two assemblages differs. And the Rocky Mountain House coloured bead assemblage only represents 4.7% of the total while the Nottingham House assemblages make up 25% of the total. And like the temporal comparison between the two Fort Vermilion sites, it was not a greater increase in bead colour varieties at Nottingham House that created these differences. It was simply a higher proportional use of certain coloured beads that created that difference.
Nottingham House
Rocky Mountain House
Bead Colour
Quantity
Percent
Quantity
Percent
Black
11
0.6
25
7.7
Redwood
391
20.9
25
7.7
Ruby
40
2.1
0
0
Rose Wine
273
14.6
232
71.4
Scarlet
0
0
17
5.2
Red Mahogany
0
0
4
1.2
Bright Green
3
0.2
6
1.8
Dark Pale Green
185
9.9
1
0.3
Apple Green
75
4
0
0
Aqua Green
1
0.05
0
0
Dark Grass Green
0
0
1
0.3
Turquoise
773
41.3
1
0.3
Light Gold
120
6.4
0
0
Mustard Gold
0
0
12
3.7
Sunlight Yellow
0
0
1
0.3
Total
1872
325
Total Bead Sample
3610
6512
In this comparison, unlike the Fort Vermilion I and II comparisons, both bead samples are sufficiently robust to eliminate possible bias from sample size.
In summary, historic glass bead colours differed proportionally over time and in large regions of western Canada and the United States. Certain bead colours were preferred over others in specific regions or during specific periods. Although there was likely a greater potential selection of bead colour varieties later in the 19th century, it did not necessarily result in the use of a greater variety over time or regionally. People preferred certain colour schemes during certain periods and regions. The reasons and meaning for the choice of those colours were likely as complex as they are today, being influenced by the personal, cultural and ideological customs and values of their people. And, let’s not forget the role of fashion driving the choices in colours that were made.
Canada’s Metis – The Flower Beadwork People
It is perhaps fitting to end this blog about historic glass bead colour with Canada’s historic Metis who were also known as the ‘Flower Beadwork People‘, renowned for their brightly coloured floral designs in both beadwork and embroidery. 94 How does their use of bead colours compare to other assemblages?
Unfortunately, there are very few archaeological bead assemblages that are definitely Metis. Below I have listed the archaeological sites that represent Metis settlements or farmsteads (river lots) and have beads samples available for examination. Keep in mind that this sample size is small and the results preliminary. However, the results indicate that the ‘other’ bead colour category in these assembles is very high. Higher even than most other Saskatchewan District bead assemblages. However, also like these assemblages the Metis were not necessarily using a greater variety of bead colours at any given time. Only a higher proportion of some colours.
The image below of a beaded cushion, dating around c.1880, and like the octopus firebag, supports my contention that relatively few varieties of bead colours were used, but some in very high proportions. White and blue beads were used in lesser numbers in this flower bead pattern.
Also at the beginning of this blog, I showed an image of a colourful piece of beadwork found at the HBC Fort Victoria (c. 1864 – 98). It was found in the men’s quarters and was likely fashioned by a Metis woman perhaps living at the fort. As with the cushion, the proportion of coloured beads relative to white and blue beads is quite high. Below is a schematic drawing of the colour pattern that was used based on this archaeological find.
Below is a photograph of a Metis sash I was given at Lac La Biche, Alberta, Canada for my work with the Metis. It’s quite evident that there is considerable similarity in the colour scheme of both these objects. Not the same but similarity nevertheless. The sash, a major symbol of Metis identity in Canada varies in colour schemes but certain colours seem to reoccur.
A Few Concluding Remarks
The use of colour by humans and the reasons for choosing them are complex and often difficult to understand. When we step back into history the task of understanding colour becomes even more difficult because of either scant or biased evidence.
Despite these issues, I believe the historic archaeological bead data have been under-utilized when it comes to documenting and understanding historic Indigenous bead colour. Investigation of these assemblages has its advantages. Instead of guessing what the historic names for colours might mean, we can examine the actual bead. And, because the assemblages cover a considerable period of time and space, we can take a comparative approach to investigate them.
It is clear, both in contemporary and historic Indigenous societies, colour preference is a moving target. It is not a static entity but seems governed by ever-changing preferences over time and space.
To tag a certain colour with a certain meaning is therefore difficult if not impossible. Perhaps we have to reduce the entire mess down to the fact that some colours, because we associate them with specific things or events, make us feel good while others do not. And it seems there is a great deal of variability among humans in those choices. In other words, a colour I might prefer would not always be preferred by others, or in different periods, giving rise to an array of colours, used in different proportions by people.
Despite this seemingly incredible variability and sometimes randomness in colour preferences, there are trends in colour preferences both regionally and over time in Northwestern North America that are very difficult to explain if the choice is only individual and highly random. Like our car example, are Indigenous people thinking the same way about bead colour choices? Certainly, the floral pattern in embroidery and beadwork, thought to have spread northwest from eastern North America, influenced a greater use of colours other than white and blue by Indigenous people. Some evidence suggests that style dictated colour preference among Indigenous groups. And, if you wanted to communicate your affiliation with a particular group, then the use of certain colours as means of communicating that identity was an option.
To conclude glass trade beads were a very important article among Indigenous people in Canada. The colours of beads people chose have significance in their everyday lives. Not just historically but even today.
On August 10th, 2023 I attended an Edmonton Elks football game. The highlight of this event wasn’t the Elks’ superb play (they lost and now have lost twenty-two consecutive games at home). The highlight was the half-time show featuring Canadian Indigenous dancers, clad in their colourful dancing regalia covered with many glass beads.
The bead colours they chose, and the meaning behind them, are often very personal, steeped in their history and cultures. I leave the last word about the importance of Indigenous beads and colour to an Indigenous voice, Anishinaabe 98 beader Malinda Joy Gray’s thoughts about the colours of beads chosen in dance regalia and the meaning behind them:
“Colors and patterns are not merely adornment, they should be intertwined with their identity and their status as a dancer with other members of the community. When an Anishinaabe artist beads regalia for themselves, they are instructed to use their spirit colors. I have been taught by Elders that if you don’t have any colors that have special meaning to you or are unsure what your spirit colors are, you must put tobacco in some water and sleep with it beside your bed. Doing so will ensure that during your dreams your ancestors will come and show you which colors should be worn. Regalia is not just for this dimension, it transcends time and waking reality. Beadwork has impacted every aspect of Indigenous culture including its spirituality.” 99
Footnotes:
From “The Pyschology of Colour in Advertising.” https://www.newdesigngroup.ca/logo-graphic-design/psychology-colour-advertising/[↩][↩]
From Joy Gray, Malinda. 2017. Beads: Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, The University of Toronto, Canada.[↩]
Madden, T. J., Hewett, K., & Roth, M. S. (2000). Managing images in different cultures: A cross-national study of colour meanings and preferences. Journal of International Marketing, 8(4), 90-107.[↩]
This is only a theory of high correlation (i.e., most people), not an absolute theory (i.e., all people).[↩]
from “Science Explains Why We Have Favorite Colors” by Allison Turner, 2022.[↩]
Farrell Racette, Sherry. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Manitoba.[↩]
Quote from Farrell Racette, Sherry. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Manitoba.[↩]
Data from Karklins, Karlis. 1983. Nottingham House: The Hudson’s Bay Company in Athabasca, 1802-1806. History and Archaeology 69. Ottawa, Parks Canada, Ottawa.[↩]
On the colour wheel, secondary colours are located between primary colours. According to the traditional colour wheel, red and yellow make orange, red and blue make purple, and blue and yellow make green. Tertiary colours refer to the combination of primary and secondary colours due to their compound nature. Blue-green, blue-violet, red-orange, red-violet, yellow-orange, and yellow-green are colour combinations you can make from colour mixing. While we are all familiar with what primary and secondary colours resemble, we are perhaps less familiar with tertiary colours. The six tertiary colours often come with names. For example, vermilion refers to orange combined with red; magenta, red combined with purple); violet, purple combined with blue; teal, blue combined with green; chartreuse, green combined with yellow; and, amber, yellow combined with orange. I cannot think of one primary or secondary colour, and many tertiary combinations as well, that has not been applied to glass trade bead colours in the Americas.[↩]
Kidd, Kenneth and Martha Ann Kidd. 2012. A Classification System for Glass Beads for the Use of Field Archaeologists. In BEADS: Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24[↩]
Devore, Steven Leroy. 1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Collection. Williston, North Dakota.[↩]
American Fur Company data from Farrell Racette, Sherry. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Manitoba.[↩]
Steven Leroy Devore. 1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Collection. Williston, North Dakota.[↩]
Wayne Davis. 1974. Time and Space Considerations for Diagnostic Northern Plains Glass Trade Bead Types. In Historical Archaeology in Northwestern North America. University of Calgary, Canada.[↩]
Melonie Ancheta. 2016. Colouring the Native Northwest Coast. Magazine of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian: Volume 17, No. 1[↩]
a mineral consisting of a phosphate of iron which occurs as a secondary mineral in ore deposits. It is colourless when fresh but becomes blue or green with oxidization[↩]
from Melonie Ancheta. 2016. Coloring the Native Northwest Coast. Magazine of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian: Volume 17, No.1.[↩]
both white and black technically are considered colours and so treated here as such[↩]
And to my knowledge has not been answered. Certainly, like many European trade goods introduced into Indigenous society, they might have affected traditional values. If blue dyes were difficult to acquire, and therefore relegated to only a few people, such as shamans and nobility, the greater accessibility to objects by others to this colour may have had a profound effect on Northwest Coast cultural traditions.[↩]
Abel, A. H. 1939. Tabeau’s Narrative of Loisel’s Expedition to the Upper Missouri, pp.170-71. University of Oklahoma Press, Norman.[↩]
Abel, A. H. 1939. Tabeau’s Narrative of Loisel’s Expedition to the Upper Missouri, pp.174-76. University of Oklahoma Press, Norman.[↩]
Davis, Wayne. 1972. Glass Trade Beads of the Northern Plains – Upper Missouri Region. M.A. Thesis, Department of Archaeology, Calgary, Alberta.[↩]
Denig, Edwin. 1930. Indian Tribes of the Upper Missouri. Edited by J. N. B. Hewitt, Bureau of American Ethnology Annual Report (1928-1929), Vol. 46: 375-628. Washington, D. C.[↩]
Ross, Lester A. 1976. “Fort Vancouver: 1829-1860, An Historical Archaeological Investigations of the Goods Imported and manufactured by the Hudson’s Bay Company” United States Department of the Interior National Park Service and the Fort Vancouver Historic Site, USA.[↩]
Crowell, Aron L. 1997. Archaeology and the Capitalist World System: A Study of Russian America. Plenum Press, New York.[↩][↩]
Duncan, Kate C. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Art. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver.[↩][↩][↩]
Coues, Elliot (ed). 1965. New Light on the Early History of the Greater Northwest: The Manuscript Journals of Alexander Henry, Fur Trader of the Northwest Company, and of David Thompson, Official Geographer and Explorer of the Same Company. Ross and Haines, Minneapolis. pp.517.[↩]
Thwaites, Reuben, Gold (ed.). 1904-05. Original Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition 1804-05. Dodd, Mead and Company, New York.[↩]
McKenzie, Roderick. 1889. Reminiscences. InLes Bourgeois de la Compagnie du Nord-Quest, recits de voyages, lettres et rapports inedits relatifs au Nord-Quest Canadien, L. R. Masson (ed) (Quebec: A. Cote, 1889-90, pp.51.[↩]
McKenzie, Roderick. 1889. Reminiscences. InLes Bourgeois de la Compagnie du Nord-Quest, recits de voyages, lettres et rapports inedits relatifs au Nord-Quest Canadien, L. R. Masson (ed) (Quebec: A. Cote, 1889-90.[↩]
From Duncan, Kate C. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Art. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver. pp.44.[↩]
Bundy, Barbara E., Allen P. McCartney, and Douglas W. Veltre. 2003. Glass Trade Beads from Reese Bay, Unalaska Island: Spatial and Temporal Patterns. Arctic Anthropology 40 (1):29-47[↩]
from Bundy, Barbara E., Allen P. McCartney, and Douglas W. Veltre. 2003. Glass Trade Beads from Reese Bay, Unalaska Island: Spatial and Temporal Patterns. Arctic Anthropology 40 (1):29-47[↩]
However, at Rocky Mountain Fort, Scott Hamilton fine-screened all soil matrix to recover all small beads. His results suggest that the bead colour proportions from this fur trade post are within the range of variability of other post assemblages (where the soil was not fine-screened) and white beads do not occur in significantly greater numbers. ((Hamilton, Scott, David Burley, Luke Dalla Bona, Rick Howard, Heather Moon, and Bill Quakenbush. 1987. The End of Season Report of the 1986 Excavations at Rocky Mountain Fort, HbRf-31. Preliminary report submitted to the B.C. Heritage Trust.[↩]
Pyszczyk, H. 2015. The Last Fort Standing. Fort Vermilion and the Peace River Fur Trade, 1798-1830. Occasional Papers of the Archaeological Society of Alberta 14. Archaeological Society of Alberta, Calgary, Alberta. Chapter 6[↩]
For example, the NWC/HBC Fort Chipewyan was occupied from 1802 to 1872 covering the two time periods in question. More discreet temporal divisions have not been established archaeologically at this fort. Therefore the bead assemblage from this fort is a mixture of bead preference for over seventy years – a length of time too long to investigate any meaningful trends.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 1992. Trade Ornament Usage Among the Native Peoples of Canada: a Source Book. Ottawa, Ont.: National Historic Parks and Sites, Parks Service.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 1983. Nottingham House: The Hudson’s Bay Company in Athabasca, 1802-1806. History and Archaeology 69. Ottawa, Parks Canada, Ottawa.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 1981. The Old Fort Point Site: Fort Wedderburn II? Occasional Papers in Archaeology and History 26. Ottawa, Parks Canada.[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 1993 A “Parchment Skin” is All: The Archaeology of the Boyer River Site, Fort Vermilion, Alberta. In The Uncovered Past: Roots of Northern Alberta Societies, Patricia A. McCormack and R. Geoffrey Ironside (eds), pp. 33-44. Circumpolar Research Series Number 3. Canadian Circumpolar Institute, University of Alberta.[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 2000-131 Archaeological Investigations: Fort Vermillion I (IaQf-1) and Unknown Fur Trade Site (IaQf-2) (1998-2000 Field Seasons), Final Report, Permit 2000-131. Manuscript on file, Alberta Tourism, Parks, Recreation and Culture, Edmonton, Alberta; Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 2002-227 Archaeological Investigations: Fort Vermilion I (IaQf – 1) and Unknown Fur Trade Site (IaQf-2). Final Report, Permit 2002-227. On File, Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton. Pyszczyk, H. 2015. The Last Fort Standing. Fort Vermilion and the Peace River Fur Trade, 1798-1830. Occasional Papers of the Archaeological Society of Alberta 14. Archaeological Society of Alberta, Calgary, Alberta.[↩]
Arnold, Ken. 1972. The History and Archaeology of Fort Fork (Draft). Manuscript on file, Provincial Museum of Alberta, Edmonton, Alberta[↩]
Hamilton, Scott, David Burley, Luke Dalla Bona, Rick Howard, Heather Moon, and Bill Quakenbush. 1987. The End of Season Report of the 1986 Excavations at Rocky Mountain Fort, HbRf-31. Preliminary report submitted to the B.C. Heritage Trust.[↩]
Smith, Brian J. 1992. Archaeological Mitigation of Site GePa-10, Lac la Biche, Alberta for M & J Cats Ltd. ASA Permit Number 92-006. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Culture and Community Spirit. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Forbis, R.G. 1958a. Archaeological Site Inventory Data, Borden No. EgPr-1, Peigan Post (Old Bow Fort). Site form on file with Alberta Culture and Community Spirit. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Noble, William C. 1973. The Excavation and Historical Identification of Rocky Mountain House. Canadian Historic Sites. Occasional Papers in Archaeology and History No. 6. Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development, Ottawa.[↩]
Steer, Donald N. and Harvey J. Rogers. 1978. Archaeological Investigations at an Early Nineteenth Century Fur Trading Fort, Rocky Mountain House National Historic Park, 1975-77. M.S. on file, Parks Canada, Calgary.[↩]
Kidd, Robert S. 1987. Archaeological Excavations at the Probable Site of the First Fort Edmonton or Fort Augustus I, 1795 to Early 1800s. Human History, Occasional Paper No. 3. Provincial Museum of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Nicks, Gertrude. 1969. The Archaeology of Two Hudson’s Bay Company Posts: Buckingham House (1792-1800) and Edmonton House III (1810-1813). M.A. thesis on file, Department of Anthropology, The University of Alberta, Edmonton[↩][↩]
Kidd, Robert S. 1970. Fort George and the Early Fur Trade in Alberta. Publication No.2, Provincial Museum and Archives of Alberta. Alberta Culture, Historical Resources.[↩]
McCullough, E.J., A.J. Landals, and B.J. Kulle. 1992. Historical Resources Mitigation FjOn 1 Fort Vermillion/Paint Creek House. Permit 91-73. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Culture and Community Spirit. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 2021. appendix F. The Trade Beads of Fort Riviere Tremblante. In Meyer, David. 2021. Archaeological Investigations of Fort Riviere Tremblante. Manuscript on File, Saskatchewan Heritage Center, Regina.[↩]
Walde, Dale. 2004. Historical Resource Monitoring of a Replacement Waterline within Lots 1, 4 & 5, Block 1 Fort Vermillion, Alberta Map Sheets 84 J/5 & K/8 Final Report. Permit 2004-209. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Tourism, Parks, Recreation and Culture. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Smith, Brian J. 1991a. Archaeological Investigations, Dunvegan, Alberta: Hudson’s Bay Company 1877 Factor’s House (GlQp-8) and St. Charles Mission Roman Catholic Church (GlQp-6), Permit 89-20. Vols. 1-3. Report on file with the Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Forsman, Michael. 1985. The Archaeology of Victoria Post 1864-1897. Archaeological Survey of Alberta Manuscript Series No. 6. Alberta Culture, Edmonton; Losey, Timothy, et. al, 1977. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Victoria, 1975[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. n.d. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Edmonton V, 1992-1995. Manuscript report on file, Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Pickard, Rod and Heather D’Amour. 1987. Archaeological Investigations at the National Historic Site of Jasper House. Microfiche Report Series 475. Environment Canada Parks Service, Calgary, Alberta.[↩]
Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩][↩][↩]
Stevenson, Marc G. 1981. Peace Point – A Stratified Prehistoric Campsite Complex in Wood Buffalo National Park, Alberta. Research Bulletin No. 158. Parks Canada.[↩]
Crowell, Aron L. 1997. Archaeology and the Capitalist World System: A Study of Russian America. Plenum Press, New York.[↩]
Doll, Maurice,F. V., Robert S. Kidd and John P. Day. 1988. The Buffalo Lake Metis Site: A Late Nineteenth Century Settlement in the Parkland of Central Alberta. Human History Occasional Paper No. 4. Alberta Culture and Multiculturalism, Provincial Museum of Alberta.[↩]
Crowell, Aron L. 1997. Archaeology and the Capitalist World System: A Study of Russian America. Plenum Press, New York.[↩][↩][↩][↩]
Doll, Maurice, F. V., Robert S. Kidd and John P. Day. 1988. The Buffalo Lake Metis Site: A Late Nineteenth Century Settlement in the Parkland of Central Alberta. Human History Occasional Paper No. 4. Alberta Culture and Multiculturalism, Provincial Museum of Alberta.[↩]
Elliot, W. J. 1971. Hivernant Archaeology in the Cypress Hills. M.A. Thesis, University of Calgary.[↩][↩]
Panas, Timothy 1999. Statistical Comparison of Spode/Copeland Ceramics between Historic Metis and European Occupations in Central Alberta. Unpublished M.A. Thesis, The University of Montana.[↩]
Brandon, John Daniel. 1989. The Artifacts and Stratigraphy of the Letendre Complex, Batoche, Saskatchewan. Unpublished M.A. Thesis, University of Saskatchewan.[↩]
Klimko, Olga, Peggy Mkeand, Terrance Gibson. 1993. The Chesterfield House Research Project. Permit 93-047. Saskatchewan Heritage Branch, Regina.[↩]
Heitzmann, R.J., J. Preigert, S.S. Smith. 1980. Historical Resources Inventory and Assessment Programme 1979 Fort Chipewyan III and IV, Final Report. Permit Number 79-100. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Tourism, Parks, Recreation and Culture.[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 1989. The Rosebud Burial. Manuscript on File, Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Klimko, Olga and John Hodges. 1993. Last Mountain House: A Hudson’s Bay Company Outpost in the Qu’Appelle Valley. Western Heritage Services Incorporated, Saskatoon.[↩]
Devore, Stephen 1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Trading Post Collection. Friends of Fort Union Trading Post, Williston, North Dakota.[↩]
Duncan, Kate. 1989, Northern Athapaskan Art. A Beadwork Tradition. p.40. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver.[↩]
These limitations are the result of both a low number of archaeological site bead assemblages and often very low sample sizes.[↩]
Much has been published in the archaeological literature on how sample size affects artifact richness (or in this instance bead colour variety) (i.e., as sample size increases, so will the number s of different bead colours, until a saturation point is reached). I have touched on the subject in my 2015 Fort Vermilion I monograph, conducting rarefaction curves to examine artifact richness between different-sized archaeological samples.[↩]
Even when sites having small bead sample sizes are omitted (which could bias the number of bead colour varieties) the results are similar to those above.[↩]
I conducted a two-tailed T-Test for means (unequal variances). Because of the high degree of variability and overlap in the sample, there was no statistical difference in the mean colour varieties in the two samples.[↩]
for some reason WordPress is not allowing me to insert a number in the appropriate box for the total bead sample for Fort Vermilion II.[↩]
However, currently, without a larger bead sample from Fort Vermilion II, I can’t rule out that unequal bead sample sizes are biasing these results.[↩]
According to Canadian Geographic the Dakota and Cree called the Metis Flower Beadwork People. (https://indigenouspeoplesatlasofcanada.ca/article/material-culture/). There are also countless references by explorers describing Metis’ beadwork and embroidery skills[↩]
From the Royal Alberta Facebook page here is a brief history of this firebag design: “Where do octopus bags get their names? An octopus bag has eight hanging tabs or legs, much like the animal. The octopus bag is thought to be based on Algonquin animal skin bags, also known as “many legs bags,” which had the legs and tails left on and were quill-worked or beaded. The Métis adopted this bag style when many Anishinaabe moved west to Red River, where Métis women utilized their distinct floral beadwork style. The eight-legged style of bag became popular in the 19th century in Métis and Cree communities across central Canada. This style of bag – used to carry smoking pipes, tobacco, flint, and steel to make fire (hence “fire bag”) – was carried across the continent as far west as Tlingit communities in Alaska.” Courtesy of Royal Alberta Museum: https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=10154041317827815&set=this-weeks-ramwow-is-a-m%C3%A9tis-octopus-bag-from-1859-it-is-part-of-the-southesk-co[↩]
Losey, Timothy C., et al. 1977. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Victoria, 1975. Occasional Paper No. 3. Alberta Culture, Historic Resources.[↩]
The Ojibwe, Chippewa, Odawa, Potawatomi, Algonquin, Saulteaux, Nipissing and Mississauga First Nations are Anishinaabeg. Some Oji-Cree First Nations and Métis also include themselves within this cultural-linguistic grouping[↩]
From Joy Gray, Malinda. 2017. Beads: Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, The University of Toronto, Canada.[↩]
Dedicated to the work and memory of archaeologist Wayne London Davis. One of the first among us to appreciate the beauty and value of glass trade beads.
In my first segment on beads I looked at their antiquity around the world. In this second segment, I’ll lay out some basic facts and trends about glass beads in the Canadian fur trade. If you’re interested in more details, whenever you see a super-scripted footnote number, just point your cursor at it and it will pop up on your screen.1
From James Isham, York Fort, 20 July 1739 Right Honourable Sirs; With submission, this we humbly beg leave to observe to your honours, according to your honours’ orders, 1738 (paragraph the 7th) the Indians dislike of particular goods, their refusal and the reason for the same….Beads large pearl, the Indians dislikes for the colour, both large and heavy, the shape not being for the use they put them to, which is to hang at their noses, ears, and to make belts etc., so being few or none traded and lying useless in the factory, according to your honours’ desire I send them home…”
Not Just Any Beads Will Do
In his letter, James Isham, in charge of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s York Factory, listed three things about glass trade beads, that, if not strictly adhered to created serious problems in trade:
Color; Size; and, Shape
If these qualities were not satisfactory to First Nations Peoples, they simply refused to trade.
In this segment I’ll examine more closely how glass beads were made, and who made them. And how seemingly trivial traits, such as bead size and shape, were important in the Indigenous world. In a third segment in this series, I’ll consider in more detail the importance of bead design and color.
As I thought about the thousands of glass beads we’ve found at the many fur trade archaeological sites in western Canada, I wondered: What can we learn not only about how glass trade beads were made, but also their role and importance for the Indigenous People who acquired them?
However the task is difficult and fraught with obstacles. Archaeologically, the Fort Victoria beadwork example is rare. Unique almost. Glass beads don’t come in nice arranged designs. Often we don’t know who sewed those designs, or who purchased and used glass beads. 4
So let me lead you through this minefield of glass bead research. But first, we’ll briefly review how glass beads were made. And who made them. 5
Glass Trade Beads in the Americas: Who Made Them?
“Early demands for metaphorical counterparts of rare sacred materials like marine shell and natural crystals transformed with time to large-scale requests for beads of particular sizes, shapes, and colors for ornamentation of bodies and clothing. In all cases, American Indian worldviews determined selection, acquisition, and use of glass beads.” 6
It’s one thing to claim that Indigenous worldviews dictated bead selection. It is altogether another to figure out what they were. Or, where in a glass bead’s traits (e.g., shape, design, size and color) and patterning those worldviews resided. Especially when we consider that Indigenous people didn’t even make them. What bead types and quantities did Indigenous Peoples in Canada select that aligned with their beliefs and identities?
Early European Bead Makers
The majority of glass beads that entered the Americas, between c.1500 – 1900, were made in the Italian glass works in Venice/Murano. By the 1200s, a guild of glass makers began to make some of the best glassware in the world, including glass beads. By the 1500s Venice monopolized the glass bead industry, producing large numbers of beads in a variety of shapes, colors and sizes. The various factories were highly competitive, constantly upgrading their techniques to improve their product.
“About 1764 twenty-two furnaces were employed in that industry, [Murano, Italy] with a production of about 44,000 lbs. [beads] per week, and one house at Liverpool about this period bought beads to the value of 30,000 ducats annually. It may be readily conceived that a vast variety of patterns were produced. A tarriff drawn up in 1800 contains an enumeration of 562 species, and a ‘grandissimo’ number of sub-species of beads. The manufacture continues to be one of great importance.” 8
Venice/Murano ruled the glass bead industry. However, according to Canadian bead expert, Karlis Karklins:
“Although Venice/Murano and Bohemia produced the bulk of the glass beads that were exported to the New World, Holland, Germany, France, England, Spain, Russia, China, and likely some other nations also contributed their share (Kidd 1979; Liu 1975a). Unfortunately, there is no routine method for determining the country of origin for any given bead type.” 10
So, we’ve hit our first snag when researching historic glass beads: determining their origins of manufacture. According to Karklins, even with mass spectometry (to ascertain the chemical composition of beads), it’s still exceedingly difficult to pinpoint a bead’s origins. What is often lacking are comparative bead samples from the European sources where they were made.
Fortunately, by using documentary records and bead collections, Venice’s dominance of the the bead industry has been generally validated. But occasionally the often vague North American documentary records leave some doubt as to origins and manufacturer. And, whether only Europeans made glass trade beads.
Glass Bead Manufacturing Techniques
European glass bead making techniques were complex. They evolved and changed over time. In order of their introduction, the four most common methods (which had derivatives or are used together) are: 11
Wound Glass Beads – Although still used today, Venetians made glass beads individually by winding a molten blob of glass around an iron rod or mandrel by the end of 1200 A.D. They made beads of one (monochrome) or more colors (polychrome) by adding cobalt (blue), copper (green), tin (milky white), or gold (red) to the mixture. Or the bead could be decorated with a design pressed onto it or inlaid in the soft glass. As the demand for glass beads increased during the late 1400s this method could not keep up because it was too slow; each bead was hand-made.
Using the Canadian glass bead classification chart produced by Kenneth E. Kidd and Martha Ann Kidd (and later updated by Karlis Karklins), these are the basic wound glass bead types found in Canada. The type list is incomplete. Other bead types will be added as more archaeological sites are excavated. The bead types are organized according to: 1) method of manufacture; 2) type of decoration; 3) shape; 4) color; and, 5) size.
2. Blown Glass Beads – Also a very early method (but used into the 19th century), a glob of molten glass was shaped by blowing it through a glass tube. There was also a mold blowing method. First, you blow a small bubble at the end of a glass tube which was quickly inserted into a two-piece mold. Additional air was then blown in so that the glass bubble filled the cavity. A more complicated process involved placing a glass tube in a two-piece mold with up to 24 connected cavities. This method could produce beads with very complex designs. You could then produce a row of beads or break apart the segments to form individual beads.
3. Drawn Glass Beads – By the end of c.1400 A.D. the Venetians made glass beads from long tubes of drawn glass (initially thought to be an Egyptian method). A master glass maker first formed a cylinder from a glob of molten glass. Then his assistant took the end of the rod and pulled it down a long corridor before the glass cooled, producing a long drawn glass tube. The length of the tube and the amount of glass determined the size of the beads. Once the tubes cooled, they were cut into three foot lengths. Later, smaller lengths were cut into beads and then smoothed and polished. This method, still used today, met the demand for large quantities of beads because it was much faster.
4. Pressed/Molded Glass Beads – To make a molded glass bead the end of a glass rod was heated until it melted. A piece was then pinched off the rod and pressed in a tong-like two-piece mold. As the glass was compressed, any excess was forced out at the seam. A moveable pin (or pins, depending on how many holes were desired) pierced the glass and formed the perforation. In a second method, two pieces of viscid glass, one in either half of a two-piece mold, were pressed together to fuse them. Glass beads with complex colored patterns were made by this method. Some faceted mold pressed beads have mold seams that zig zag around the middle, following the edges of the central facets.
In Bohemia the glass bead industry had started by the 16th century. But during the Industrial Revolution in the 19th century machines were developed to mass-produce glass beads. These mold-pressed beads often had complex shapes. And by making use of patterned canes, or the glass rods fed into the machine, the resulting beads could be elaborately coloured, giving them a slightly random appearance, even if the shape was identical. Although mass-produced, and sold around the world, Bohemian glass bead making was a cottage industry that soon began to rival Murano’s bead industry.
Czech glass beads manufacturers were very aggressive businessmen. They sent out sample men who traveled worldwide (Africa, Japan and Tibet, and possibly the Americas) to speak with Czech glass bead wholesale suppliers to determine what beads styles would sell best in each market. They then returned to Czechoslovakia and advised on specific bead designs for sale to these markets. This proactive approach was highly successful, increasing the sales and demand for Czech glass beads worldwide.
North American Indigenous Glass Bead Making
When we think of the origins of North American glass beads, Italy, Bohemia, and Holland immediately come to mind. Wayne Davis, however, thought otherwise. His research suggested that Indigenous People occasionally also made glass beads. 17 Although probably a rare occurrence (and, to my knowledge, never documented in Canada), the Arikara, Mandan, Hidatsa, Cheyenne, and Snake First Nations in the USA made glass beads. How they did this is both fascinating and somewhat mysterious.
I’ll paraphrase one such historic Indigenous bead making process. For the complete quote, refer to this footnote: 18
Glass bottles, or glass beads were pounded fine and the powder thoroughly washed;
A platter was placed at the mouth of a three gallon ‘earthen pot’ (with a hole at edge to watch the beads);
A number of little rolled clay sticks the size of the bead hole were made and fired;
Small balls of clay were made for pedestals for the beads;
The pounded glass was heated and formed into an oblong shape and wound around the clay stick;
A hole was made in the center of each pedestal and the rolled glass bead and stick inserted into it.
“Then the platter is put in the coals and the pot is inverted over it; dry wood is placed about the whole and burnt….When the beads are whitish red and grow pointed, they are taken off. The clay center is picked out with an awl.”
The pot (presumably made from clay) probably served as a simple kiln increasing temperatures high enough to melt glass. Because even a large campfire can’t reach those temperatures. 19
Ethnologist, George Grinnell recounted another story of Cheyenne glass bead making. His description also suggests that they made glass beads and charms by melting sand. 20
Also, according to ethnographer/painter George Catlin, in 1847, the Mandan highly valued these Indigenous-made glass beads:
“…the extraordinary art of manufacturing a very beautiful and lasting kind of blue glass beads, which they wear on their necks in great quantities and decidedly value above all others that are brought among them by the fur traders.” 21
These few examples of Indigenous bead making bring up more questions than answers. How widely spread was this practice? Did some Indigenous groups truly understand how to make glass from ‘quartz sand’ as Grinnell’s observations suggests? It takes high temperatures (higher than campfires) to melt quartz without adding a flux. Currently, without doing more research, we shouldn’t discount this possibility.
If so, where’s the proof? What makes Wayne Davis’s work so important, were his searches of the American bead collections for that proof. And he may have found it. What could be Indigenous-made glass beads are present in the Fort Leavenworth collections (and others as well). Those beads have slightly different characteristics than the European-made beads.
Why would Indigenous People even make glass beads? By the early 19th century, glass beads, in a bewildering assortment of shapes and colors, were already available across North America. Was it important to add that personal touch to glass beads? If these Indigenous-made beads were passed down through generations, they certainly would have maintained a stronger connection to one’s past, one’s people, than a European glass trade bead.
Historic Glass Beads in Western Canada
With the exception of porcupine quill adornment, painting (and historically silk thread embroidery, and tufting), the glass bead’s diversity (found in its shape, size and color) allowing considerable artistic license, was almost unequaled by any other North American prehistoric traditional artistic medium.
By the end of the 17th century, when glass beads first began to appear in the interior of western Canada, there was already a considerable array of colors, sizes and types to choose from. Drawn, wound and blown (in that order based on quantities) glass beads were either traded or gifted to the interior Indigenous groups.
Encountering Problems When Researching Glass Trade Beads
In the following sections I focus primarily on glass trade beads present either in the documentary or archaeological records. Each type of record has limits as to what we can accomplish in the reconstruction of Indigenous glass bead histories. Those limitations are: 1) context; 2) clarity; and, 3) completeness.
Context
Context refers to the nature of the document or archaeological record that beads are found in. For example, sometimes glass beads are listed in fort inventories and personal debt lists. Those records document what company employees bought at the inland forts (potentially providing valuable information on Indigenous local and individual glass bead preferences and consumption in time and space). But often records are missing, descriptions vague or inconsistent. Context of beads in the archaeological record is equally problematic. Often we only know the date and place the beads were purchased and used; and less about the individuals who purchased them. 25
Clarity
Clarity refers to the accuracy of identification of historic fur trade glass beads. Often in the documentary record it is difficult to match descriptions with actual glass beads types (because of inconsistent, vague descriptions as the above record shows). When we find glass beads in the archaeological record, the method of their manufacture is discernible. However, specific date of manufacture and length of use of certain bead types is not. It requires vast amounts of archaeological information from a long time period and geographical area reconstruct these dates of use.
Completeness
Often the available fur trade documentary and archaeological evidence is incomplete. Many of the fur trade Company bead records were lost. Of the hundreds of fur trade sites constructed few have been investigated archaeologically. Of those investigated, most sites are only sampled; and, some of those samples are poor.
And finally, there are issues with the recovery of glass trade beads archaeologically. Beads are amongst the smallest artifacts found, often being less than 2mm in size. They fall through our screens or are almost invisible when we excavate.
A Few Trends in Western Canadian Glass Bead Assemblages
Enough bad news. Now that we recognize the limitations of the historic bead evidence, what sort of information can we garner about historic glass beads, and the people who purchased them, in these records?
Over the years we have recovered a considerable variety of glass trade beads from excavated fur trade forts in Canada. In the west we now have enough information to assemble a basic list of the glass bead types and varieties recovered from these forts. We can also begin to establish date ranges for their use, by applying archaeological seriation. 28
Major Types of Glass Beads
In Table 1 (below) I have listed the major glass bead types (and when available, bead varieties) found at a number of western Canadian fur trade sites. 29 From this list, I have summarized the major bead types and what they looked like, using the Kidd and Kidd bead classification scheme (see the visual images below).
NWC – North West Company; HBC – Hudson’s Bay Company; ?? – Unknown; * – new bead types.
(This table is a work in progress. There are still some historic sites missing. Reports on others have yet to be written. Not all beads were identified to specific variety; this will require more detailed re-examination of the original assemblages).
Thus far we have identified 36 major glass bead types from these western Canadian fur trade posts (and one American post), dated between c.1788 – 1935. They represent the four major bead manufacturing methods (wound, drawn, mold/pressed, and blown). 30 The most popular beads, in terms of quantity, are drawn glass beads which make up more than 95% in most fur trade glass bead assemblages. And the majority of drawn beads are very small (<3mm in diameter). These small beads become increasingly popular through time.
Dating Glass Beads
We cannot determine, from the archaeological record, when beads were first manufactured, or ceased to be manufactured. But, we can at least get some idea of their dates of use. And, in a few cases, where our samples are robust, document their relative popularity through time. Then, with this knowledge, we can date archaeological sites or bead assemblages with unknown dates.
Some glass beads are more time-specific than others. For example, if we only look at their presence/absence (contextual seriation) the drawn, round (type ‘IIa’) beads occur at nearly every fur trade site resulting in a time range of use between 1788 – c.1872 (and likely much longer). Others such as the wound, oval, monochrome (type WIc) bead varieties have a slightly narrower range of use, based on their presence or absence at fur trade archaeological sites (c.1791 – 1869).
Examination of the range of use of the more elaborate wound IIIb(2) (leaf/floral oval beads) variety indicates they were only used between 1791 – 1829:
Popular Glass Beads – A Matter of Fashion?
From Joseph Isbister, Albany Fort, 24 August 1740: “The beads that were indented for were a different sort from those remaining which go off at another time, the Indians being very much given to change their fancies.”
Joseph Isbister’s remarks brings up a word, about Indigenous People changing styles of beads, which we all are familiar:
FASHION!
Archaeological contextual seriation suggests that some glass bead types span a certain range of time. And then disappear being replaced by other bead types or styles. Why did this happen?
Ethnologist, Judy Thompson, suggests that Indigenous art (including beading) acts like fashion. Artistic trends and styles, “…came into vogue and were replaced with new ideas and techniques. Thompson challenged the old ideas of culturally pristine, static, unchanging tribal styles, subsequently polluted by outside influence. She identified a vigorous aesthetic climate….a Kroeberian analysis of artistic climax and decline.”34
Is this what our glass trade beads are doing? Are they simply objects of fashion for Indigenous People purchasing them? Are they going through cycles of ‘climax and decline‘, much like many of our styles today? To further determine whether fur trade glass beads are reacting this way, we need to examine some of them in more detail using frequency seriation where possible. 35
To determine the popularity of a specific glass bead type or variety, we need to look at that bead’s proportional frequency through time (and space, if possible). To clarify what I mean, I will use only a few glass bead examples here.
With the available fur trade assemblages, I have calculated the relative percentages for wound, oval, monochrome (WIc), wound, oval floral/leaf (WIIIb), and wound, round, ‘Kitty Fisher’s Eyes’ (WIIIb, also known as ‘skunk beads’) bead types. These relative percentages are then plotted to time period:
So, it seems that different bead styles, are not so much an indicator of static cultural traditions and identity, as they are about individual affiliation or differentiation. And a constant need to acquire new bead types as they become available. But each of these bead types could also be expressing group identity if we examine their use among specific Indigenous groups. 37 Also, it is currently unknown how much of this change in glass bead styles was the product of choice among Indigenous People, as opposed to the manufacturer dictating styles, constantly coming up with new ones to promote trade. It’s likely a little of both but very difficult to accurately document. But, there is a lot of circumstantial evidence suggesting that Indigenous groups dictated what type of beads they wanted. And they sought new styles as a means of status and distinction from their peers. 38
“Unable to provide the Indigenous men with their request, they counter offered with a “watch, handkerchief, a bunch of red beads, and a dollar….which was refused. Instead, the Indigenous men wanted beads they described as “tiaco-mo-shack” described as blue “chief’s beads” (Dubin 2009, 276); both sides of the trade were thus left empty-handed.” 39
Combining the New and Old Traditions
More traditional methods of adornment were not immediately abandoned and quite often simply combined with glass bead adornment.
Based on historic documents and historic Indigenous artifacts, in western Canada Indigenous People retained their traditional bead forms (e.g., use of dentalium, elk canines, etc.) long after the introduction of the glass bead. This fact is born out archaeologically. For example, at the early period western forts, shell and bone traditional bead artifacts are present. 41 It is unclear whether these numbers represent changing Indigenous traditions and tastes, or growing unavailability of traditional beads. Nor is it known how much these figures differ from region to region.
Some traditional Indigenous beading methods left none or little archaeological evidence. Numerous historic references suggest that Indigenous People retained porcupine quillwork long after the introduction of glass trade beads. Glass beads were combined with quillwork.
“[Porcupine quillwork]…was never replaced by beadwork throughout the ‘real’ bead period, save possibly for the decoration of women’s dresses. Rather the two crafts existed side by side. The areas of decoration and the designs were much the same in both techniques.” (Ethnologist John Ewers describing Blackfoot clothing and decoration. Brackets mine) 42
Other fragile organic materials, such as seeds, were also used as beadwork. And, unless carbonized or found in some other well-preserved context, might not survive in the archaeological record. Or not identified as beads. Lawrence J. Barkwell (Coordinator of Metis Heritage and Historic Research, Louis Riel Institute) descried how the Metis used Wolf Willow seeds as beads, even when glass trade beads were present. 44
Many of these more traditional types of beading (i.e., dentalium, quillwork, and use of older forms of glass beadwork) have seen a resurgence in recent years as Indigenous artists identify with their histories.
‘Oh, Those Damn Seed Beads’
This was the cry that often went up when excavating at historic period sites. Too much of good thing. Thousands of tiny glass seed beads scattered in the dirt could make any archaeological investigation come to a grinding halt. Seed beads are really small (<2.0mm in diameter) drawn, tubular- or round-shaped beads that comprise most of the glass beads we find at fur trade sites. Sometimes they make up over 95% of the entire glass bead assemblage. 48
And because they are so small, they create problems when excavating. Most of them would fall through our conventional one-quarter inch mesh screens. To avoid this, we often use fine screens to recover them. But, if we used only fine screens to sift through all our dirt, little would get done. So, we often use a combination of both. 49
The documentary evidence shows that these small beads become increasingly popular over time. More small beads were needed as decorating large areas of skins or cloth with designs increased. 51
Over the years archaeologists have done little with these beads except classify (to color and shape), count, and occasionally curse them. But a detailed look at them suggests much more. Over time they changed in size, shape and become more uniform. 53
It’s hard to imagine Indigenous women threading some of these smaller seed beads. As the above image shows some of these beads were 1mm or less in diameter. But they preferred the smaller, more uniform beads, allowing them to produce beautiful, more intricate designs in an array of colors.
A Few Closing Thoughts About Fur Trade Glass Beads
Another change, not discussed much here, occurred with those tiny seed beads. By the 1860s the number of bead colors had increased. But, that’s a topic for my next segment on glass trade beads. I’ll stop here before this blog becomes a book.
Besides providing you with some basic historical information about glass trade beads in the Americas, in particular Canada, I hope this work is valuable to the new Indigenous beaders out there. A lot of this information is not very accessible. A lot of our work never reaches the general public as much as we would like.
This second segment on historic glass beads focused more on some this artifact’s technical aspects. And the changes that occurred in glass bead styles over time. Some of these changes were related to changing European bead-making techniques. Others were driven by Indigenous People demanding either new or certain types of glass bead styles. The millions of tiny little seed beads represent a change to just not using beads as adornment in hair, ears or as necklaces. Instead they become works of art and design on clothing, dog and horse paraphernalia, allowing for a incredible degree and range of artistic variation, only possibly seen in pre-contact Indigenous quillwork and painting.
In the next, and perhaps last, segment on glass beads, I’ll examine in more detail Indigenous bead design, focusing primarily on bead color. Is this where group identity and distinctions reside? Is this where we see more cultural continuity? Or, is color, like different bead styles, simply a means of fashion, constantly changing, expressing affiliation or differentiation of individuals in Indigenous society? We’ll investigate further what those colorful glass beads can tell us about this topic?
Footnotes:
This is my first attempt at using footnotes. I hope this format is more satisfactory to my readership. There are those of you who are only interested about basic facts and results. And, there are those readers who want more details and references. Hopefully this format addresses both needs.[↩]
In my next segment on beads, I’ll tell you more about the meaning of the color combinations used for this beadwork.[↩]
You can find more information about this artifact in: Timothy C. Losey, et al. 1977. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Victoria, 1975. Occasional Paper No. 3. Historic Sites Service. Alberta Culture, Historical Resources.[↩]
Occasionally in archaeology we can assign artifacts to specific families or individuals, if the documentary or oral evidence is sufficient. However, in most instances we can only say that the glass beads were likely purchased, and the design made, by an Indigenous woman living at these fur trade forts. Little else is known about the owner. For example, was she of First Nations or Metis descent? Were her ethnic affiliations Cree, Chipewyan, Blackfoot, or some other Indigenous group?[↩]
There are many excellent works on historic glass bead manufacture. I will list some of these sources in my footnotes as we go along. My aim here is to provide you with only enough basic information to follow the terminology I use in this blog.[↩]
from Gregory A. Waselkov, David W. Morgan, and Billie Coleman. 2015. Ceramics and Glass Beads as Symbolic Mixed Media in Colonial Native North America. BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 27.[↩]
from: Alexander Nesbitt 1878:93-94. Glass. South Kensington Museum Art Handbook. Chapman and Hall, London. Brackets mine[↩]
These images are from Wayne Davis’s M.A. Thesis. 1972. GLASS TRADE BEADS OF THE NORTHERN PLAINS-‘UPPER MISSOURI REGION. University of Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Wayne traveled to a number of major museums and institutions in the United States to look at the bead collections. He found these bead sample cards at the Peabody Museum. He sought advice about glass trade beads from renowned ethnologist John Ewers and archaeologist Waldo Wedel at the Smithsonian Institution.[↩]
From: Karlis Karklins. 2012. “Guide to the Description and Classification of Glass Beads Found in the Americas.” In BEADS. Journal for the Society of Bead Researchers 24[↩]
The glass bead manufacturing industry is much more complex than what I have set out here. There are many good sources describing the history of bead making in considerable detail. Perhaps one of the best for the beginner which is also available online, is this work from the Fort Vancouver Museum Series: Robert J. Cromwell Flynn O. Renard Elaine C. Dorset. Beads. NCRI Curation Series No. 5. This work describes the beads found at the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort Vancouver, Washington State, USA. Many of these beads are similar to those found at the western Canadian inland fur trade forts. What makes this work attractive for the beginner are the many excellent photographs of all the glass bead types recovered at this fur trade post. Also a very informative published Journal Series is: BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. This online journal includes a host of subjects on glass beads from all over the world.[↩]
Kidd, Kenneth E., and Martha Ann Kidd. 2012. A Classification System of Glass Beads for the Use of Field Archaeology. BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24, Article 7.[↩][↩]
Photograph courtesy of Fort Vancouver Museum bead collection[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 2012. Guide to the Description and Classification of Glass Beads Found in the Americas. BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24, Article 8.[↩][↩]
Kidd, Kenneth and Martha Kidd. 2012. A Classification System for Glass Beads for the Use of Field Archaeologists. In BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24(24).[↩]
Mathew Stirling, in a 1947 paper entitled: Arikara Glassworking. Journal of the Washington Academy of Sciences 37:257-363, searched the early ethnographies for references to this practice. Wayne Davis, 1972, continued Stirling’s work, quoting other sources in his M.A. thesis and a published paper: “Time and Space Considerations for Diagnostic Northern Plains Glass Trade Bead Types.” In Historical Archaeology in Northwestern North America, edited by Ronald M. Getty and Knut Fladmark. The University of Calgary Archaeological Association. Although most of his work focused on historic Plains First Nations in the USA, his approach and questions he asked have important implications for historic glass bead archaeology in Canada.[↩]
From G. F. Will and H. J. Spinden. 1906. The Mandans. A Study of Their Culture, Archaeology and Language. Peabody Museum of American Archaeology and Ethnology, Harvard University Paper, Vol. III. Cambridge: “The secret is only known to a few. Glass of several colors is pounded fine, each color separate;this is washed in several waters until the glass stops staining the water. They then take an earthen pot of some three gallons, put a platter in the mouth of the pot which has a nitch on its edge through which to watch the beads. Then some well seasoned clay, mixed with sand and tempered with water till of consistency of dough, is taken, and from it are made number of little sticks of the size of the hole desired in the bead. these are heated to a red heat and cooled again. The pot is also heated to clean it. Then small balls of the clay are made to serve as pedestals for the beads. The powdered with a little wooden paddle, where is is paddled into an oblong form, the clay stick is then laid across it and the lass is wound regular. To put in other colors the other end of the paddle stick, which is sharp, is used to make a hole which is then filled with another colored glass. A hole is then made in the center of each pedestal and a bead stuck in it . Then the platter is put in the coals and the pot is inverted over it; dry wood is placed about the whole and burnt….When the beads are whitish red and grow pointed, they are taken off. The clay center is picked out with an awl.”[↩]
Solid glass melts at 2552-2912F. Crushed or powdered glass melts between ~1300 – 1,500F. A large campfire can reach temperatures of over 1,100F. The clay pot might have increased these temperatures if the glass melted to be able to form beads. I’m searching for crushed or powdered glass as I write. I can’t wait to try out this technique.[↩]
“Long, long ago, we are told, the Cheyennes manufactured for themselves what might be called beads, but perhaps were small charms made of some vitrified substance—perhaps of pulverized glass—after the white people were met. Such beads are said to have been made within two or three generations. Many of them were fashioned in the shape of a lizard; that is, a four-legged object with a long tail and a small head. The ceremony connected with making such objects was secret, and he who wished to possess one was obliged to go to some person who himself had been taught the ceremony, and to ask that person to teach him how to make one. A payment was made for the service. The two went away together to conduct the ceremony in private. It is believed that in old times, long before the whites came, these beads were made from the quartz sand found on ant-hills, and that this was melted in an earthen pot. The secret of making them now seems to be lost. In later times they melted the glass, with which to make the beads, in the ladles used in melting lead for their bullets. These ornaments or charms were made in various shapes, often in the form of a lizard, as said, or flat on one side and round on the other. Sometimes they had a perforation through which a string might be passed; at other times merely a constriction between two ends about which a string was tied. The mold was made of clay.” George B. Grinnell. 2008. The Cheyenne Indians. Their History and Lifeways. World Wisdom))
Grinnell also described how Arikara women used only a frying pan, wooden tool and a bend of sand to ‘remake the beads’. ((This is how Davis phrased it. I haven’t looked up Grinnell’s original quote. If this is the case, they might have been crushing glass trade beads to make their own types of beads.[↩]
George Catlin. 1848. Illustrations of the Manners, Customs and Condition of the Norther American Indians. London.[↩]
Photograph courtesy of Fort Vancouver Museum bead collection. Robert J. Cromwell, Flynn O. Renard, Elaine C. Dorset. Within the Collection. A Look Inside the Fort Vancouver Museum. BEADS, NCRI Curation Series No. 5.[↩]
Bead information from: Arthur J. Ray. 1974. The Indians in the Fur Trade. University of Toronto Press. HBCA B. 239/d/10-72[↩]
Data from: Karlis Karklins. 1983. Nottingham House: The Hudson’s Bay Company in Athabasca, 1802 – 1806. National Historic Parks and Sites Branch. Parks Canada. HBCA B. 39/a/2, fols. 65-68.[↩]
Occasionally glass beads can be assigned to individual households within the fort, when dwellings are well defined and occupation periods are short. We can also assume that both selection and use was gender-specific, being the domain of the Indigenous women working at the forts. It was a rare man that worked with glass trade beads.[↩]
Prior to the 1880s all women at these inland forts were of Indigenous descent. Thus, at the early forts we can be confident that either a First Nations or Metis woman purchased and used the beads. Diagram from: Heinz W. Pyszczyk. 1983. Historical and Archaeological Investigations: Fort Dunvegan, Alberta (GlQp-3). Final Report, Permit 82096. On File, Archaeological Survey of Alberta.[↩]
Seriation is a relative dating technique in archaeology. Artifacts from numerous archaeological sites are placed in chronological order. For example, often we don’t know when a particular bead was initially made. However, by identifying which beads were found at well dated fur trade sites, we can begin to place their range of use dates in chronological order. In this article I’ll use contextual and frequency seriation. In the former method, only the presence or absence of specific glass bead types recovered from well dated fur trade sites is noted. In the latter method the relative frequency of specific bead types recovered from trade sites is quantified through time.[↩]
These sites date from c.1788 to post-1900 A.D. They mostly come from central and northern Alberta, but also Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and British Columbia. I have also included the Fort Union, North Dakota glass glass bead assemblage on this list. It represents a Great Plains assemblage of which there are few in Canada. It contains a well documented, extensive list of beads. I also occasionally refer to the Fort Michlimackinac (c.1715 – 1781) glass bead assemblage which spans a much earlier date than any of our interior western forts. Also, most of the bead assemblages are only samples of varying sizes recovered from these posts. At some posts, over 50,000 beads were recovered; at others, as few as 50. A few posts, such as Nottingham House, were completely excavated. Thus, it should be kept in mind that the number of bead types present at each post may not be a true indicator of the actual number of bead types. Since number of bead types is usually a function of sample size, these numbers are inaccurate for making direct comparisons of number of bead types between fur trade posts.[↩]
The bead type images are from: Kidd, Kenneth E., and Martha Ann Kidd. 2012. A Classification System of Glass Beads for the Use of Field Archaeology. BEADS. Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24, Article 7. This journal is online.[↩]
Quote is from: Ewers, John C. 1954:42-43. The Indian Trade of the Upper Missouri Before Lewis and Clark: An Interpretation. Bulletin Missouri Historical Society, 8(1), St. Louis.[↩]
Quote from Sherry Farrell Raceette. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation. University of Manitoba. Judy Thompson. 1983. Turn of the Century Metis Decorative Art from the Frederick Bell Collection. ‘She Set the Fashion for the Whole North’. American Indian Art Magazine 8(2):37-53[↩]
I believe the need to differentiate or affiliate oneself with others, is a pan-human behavioral trait – humans, regardless of time period or specific culture, react to new objects in a similar way. In many historic and contemporary societies a few individuals, able to obtain new objects, use them as status symbols. Once those styles acquire a certain degree of popularity within the population, new objects are acquired as a means to differentiate oneself from others. There are exceptions to the rule, however. The Amish, Hutterites and Mennonites, based on religious beliefs, discouraged the use of material culture to distinguish oneself. Instead opting for a uniformity in clothing and other objects. North West Coast Indigenous Peoples accumulated wealth (objects) and then gave it all away, thereby gaining status.[↩]
The early 1750 median fort date represents Fort Michilimackinac (1716 – 1781) located in the Great Lakes Region. This bead assemblage was included because it has a much earlier date than any of the western forts, allowing us to determine the emergence of each glass bead type.[↩]
If some groups retained them much longer, or didn’t use them at all, they might then signify group identity. Our ability to do this kind of comparative analysis is limited, since we often don’t have the specific bead assemblages representing specific Indigenous groups available to us.[↩]
Again, I emphasize that this process was not consistent among all Indigenous groups. Some historic Indigenous groups, such as our North West Coast First Nations, had highly ranked societies, while others in the interior of Canada, were less so.[↩]
From Malinda Gray. 2017. Beads: Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, University of Toronto. Brackets mine. This is the encounter between the Lewis and Clark expedition Indigenous groups in the early 19th century.[↩]
Karlis Karklins. 1992. Trade Ornament Usage Among Native Peoples of Canada. A Source Book. Publishing, Supply and Services Canada, Ottawa, Canada. This is a great source book on historic Indigenous ornamentation and decoration in Canada. Lots of historic descriptions, illustrations and photographs of ornament use.[↩]
As high as 33% at Fort Vermilion I (c.1798-1830), nonexistent at Nottingham House (1801-1804), 1.3% at Riviere Tremblante; 26% at Rocky Mountain House (1799-1821); and 34% at Fort Union (1829-1860); 0% at Fort Edmonton (c.1830-1915); 4% at Fort Victoria (1864-1898) and 0% at Last Mountain House. The general trend is towards the use of fewer traditional beads at the later period forts when these figures are averaged: Traditional beads at pre-1830 forts = 20.1%; post-1830 forts = 7.5%.[↩]
John Ewers 1945:34. The Indian Trade of the Upper Missouri Before Lewis and Clark: An Interpretation. Bulletin Missouri Historical Society, 8(1), St. Louis.[↩]
This image appears in Davis’ M.A. Thesis, pp.216. There is no information about group affiliation or date.[↩]
Upper left photograph courtesy of Lawrence Blackwell. Upper right image, courtesy of Forrest Hagen, who also posted more detailed information about this bead art form on my first bead segment.[↩]
From: Christian Allaire. 2017. Meet 8 Indigenous Beaders Who Are Modernizing Their Craft. VOGUE[↩]
My former colleague, Mike Forsman recovered over 20,000 seed beads in the Main House excavations at the NWC Fort George (c.1792-1800). At Fort Vancouver, Washington State, USA, Lester Ross recovered over 100,000 glass trade beads, mostly of the ‘seed bead’ variety.[↩]
Because the recovery methods are so erratic from one fort excavation project to another, quantitative comparison of seed beads to other larger types of beads, or between forts, is virtually meaningless.[↩]
Image on the right from: Steven Leroy DeVore. 1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Trading Post Collection. Friends of Fort Union Trading Post, Wilson, North Dakota.[↩]
According to Wayne Davis (1972:50) describing the Plains tribes: “In the “modern” period, that is, after 1840, practically everything which the tribes made of cloth or skin shows beadwork. Every kind of garment for both sexes, bags of all sizes’ and shapes, cradles, horse furniture, toys and tipi furnishings, and ceremonial paraphernalia are the principal objects’ which are beaded. The contrast between this profusion and relative scarcity of beadwork in the early period point to the great increase of the craft in the modern period.”[↩]
Wayne Davis, in his 1972 M.A. Thesis noted: “Douglas (1936:91) noted that “seed” beads were 1/16 to 3/32 of an inch in diameter, and varied in thickness considerably, especially the older specimens. Often he found that one edge was thicker than the other. Improved methods of manufacture in today’s bead factories make for much more regularly sized and shaped beads. The uneven nature of a sampling of beads would therefore suggest something of their possible age.”[↩]
Fort example at the northern HBC post, Nottingham House (1801 – 1804), 15% of the glass seed beads were tubular-shaped. At the later Fort Vermilion II site (c.1830 – 1935) only 0.5% were tubular-shaped. When examined temporally, other forts produced similar results.[↩]
In his M.A. thesis, Wayne Davis, although he did not provide any quantitative analysis from his American Plains posts, already predicted these temporal changes in American Indigenous glass seed beads, that we can now quantify from our Canadian archaeological glass seed bead assemblages.[↩]
Photograph courtesy of the Fort Vermilion Museum, Alberta, Canada.[↩]
As I sit here in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, looking out my window at the winter scene and watching the rest of the Country get buried in a half metre of snow, I’m reminded of this quote:
“‘Hear! hear!’ screamed the jay from a neighboring tree, where I had heard a tittering for some time, ‘winter has a concentrated and nutty kernel, if you know where to look for it.’”
– Henry David Thoreau
Right now I’m searching for that nutty kernel but can’t seem to find it!
However, it’s not as if Canadians have been sitting around doing nothing about winter weather. Just sitting around freezing our butts off. For centuries people have waged war with this northern Wonderland. Trying to better deal with its harshness than merely watching and cursing it.
We’re known for our climate throughout the world. Especially our winters. Long, cold winters envelope most of the country. There are good things about winter: Hockey, curling, skiing. But there are also bad things: Record low temperatures. Or snow up to our chins. And then when winter decides to play real dirty, both intense cold and snow come at the same time. And last for a month longer than usual.
This January has been particularly nasty in my neck of the woods. We’ve recorded some of the coldest temperatures on earth. Lasting weeks. And now as January ends, suddenly it’s above freezing. Winter’s way of playing mind games with us. Because we all know, winter is far from over.
I’ve compiled a list of things we made to better deal with winter. Or learned from winter over many centuries. It’s by no means a complete list. Given the weather outside, this might be a good time to share some of them with you.
Physiological Adaptations
If exposed long enough, humans begin to adapt physiologically to extreme climates. The northern Inuit People of Canada have been exposed to extremely cold temperatures for thousands of years. And over the centuries their bodies slowly adapted to their frigid climate. They have a more compact body stature, fewer sweat glands, blood vessels expand, higher metabolic rates than humans living in warmer climates. It’s all about conserving heat or getting it more efficiently to the body’s extremities.
I figure at this rate, in five-six thousand years, our descendants will fare better in our Canadian climate. As we physically begin to adapt to cold.
Foods and Diet
One of the greatest threats of harsh winters to humans is finding both enough and the right kind of foods, or adapting to the foods in that environment. Both Indigenous People and early Euro-Canadians have taken what nature gave them to deal with winter.
Fat-Rich Diets
Traditional Inuit diet consisted of well over forty-percent animal fats and their total calories were derived from mostly meat. Animal fats contain a tremendous amount of calories required to keep warm in extreme temperatures. Yet Inuit People who ate those traditional fat-loaded foods were healthy and didn’t suffer from heart disease.
Early Euro-Canadian fur traders didn’t shirk from a high fat diet either. I’ve written elsewhere that the people living at the forts preferred meat rich in fat. Mainly because fat is high in calories necessary to deal with Canada’s winters. And from the data I’ve looked at, like the Inuit, early Euro-Canadian traders lived a healthy life.
Vitamin C
First Europeans arriving in Canada suffered considerably in the winter from scurvy – caused by Vitamin C deficiency. Inuit foods, especially organ meats, contain high amounts of Vitamin C. The Inuit froze their meat and fish and frequently ate them raw. This practice conserves Vitamin C which is easily lost when cooked. Raw kelp is also high in Vitamin C. Narwhal skin contains more Vitamin C than oranges.
The inner bark of certain species of pine trees contains Vitamin C. The Adirondack People (meaning tree eaters) of Upper New York State, USA, as well as other Indigenous groups, harvested these barks for sugars, starch, and a rich source of vitamin C.
Food Preservation
Our Canadian cold isn’t always a bad thing. It’s a natural fridge to preserve food. At many fur trade forts, winter was a time when the Companies stocked up on buffalo meat, and then processed it into pemmican in the spring. This First Nations highly nutritious mixture of berries, pounded meat and fat was the mainstay of the western Canadian fur trade brigades.
At the forts the meat was kept in large ‘hangars’ or ice-houses until ready to consume:
“The men had already commenced gathering their supply of fresh meat for the summer in the ice pit. This is made by digging a square hole, capable of containing 700 or 800 buffalo carcasses. As soon as the ice in the river is of sufficient thickness, it is cut into square blocks of uniform size with saws; with these blocks the floor of the pit is regularly paved, and the blocks cemented together by pouring water in between them, and allowing it to freeze solid. In like manner, the walls are solidly built up to the surface of the ground. The head and feet of the buffalo, when killed, are cut off, and the carcasses without being skin, is divided into quarters, and piled in layers in the pit as brought in, until it is filled up, when the whole is covered with a thick coating of straw, which is again protected from the sun and rain by a shed. In this manner the meat keeps perfectly good through the whole summer and eats much better than fresh kill meat, being more tender and better flavoured.” (Painter and author, Paul Kane, while visiting Fort Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, in 1846)
When I came to Canada in the early 1950s, we didn’t have fridges or freezers. Keeping produce and meat from rotting in the summer months was a challenge. We also had a large earth-covered walk-in root cellar to preserve our food. It was kept just above freezing in winter, and cool in the summer. Canning, smoking, drying, salting, and sausage making also helped solve some of our preservation problems. And the freezing winter months solved the rest.
And ironically guess what was invented to preserve food in the summer? Frozen packaged food of course. Ever wonder where that idea came from? Well, it just so happens the idea originated in Canada.
Clarence Birdseye, an American worked alongside the Inuit in Newfoundland, Canada, as a fur trapper. He noticed that fish caught by the Inuit fishermen froze almost immediately when pulled the water in the sub-zero winter conditions. Birdseye noted that the fish retained its flavor and texture, even when it was defrosted months later.
In 1920 Birdseye started experimenting with frozen peas. He first blanched freshly picked peas and then fast-froze them preserving their color, texture and flavor. In 1929 Birdseye introduced his ‘fast freezing’ techniques to the American consumer and the frozen food industry was born.
But, we sometimes forget who the original inventors of fast-frozen food were. The Inuit People of Canada. An idea which was modified to meet the challenges of food preservation in warmer climates in the twentieth century.
Shelter
Snow and ground are great insulators. Why not use them as building materials to protect us from our severe winters?
In certain parts of the Canadian Arctic, Inuit People made igloos entirely of snow and ice. It’s considered one of the most elegant and ingeniously built dwellings in the world.
In one of my university boreal ecology classes, we shoveled snow into a large mound and then hollowed out the inside. Even with a candle, or only our body heat, we could get the inside of that structure above freezing. If you’re ever caught in the freezing cold, this simple shelter could save your life.
Interior British Columbia First Nations People constructed semi-subterranean houses to deal with the cold. The pit dug into the ground made up the walls while the roof, constructed from poles and covered with sod, was above ground.
Many first Ukrainians immigrating to Canada constructed simple semi-subterranean houses before building more elaborate above-ground dwellings. These pit houses, or burdeis, while simple enough probably saved them during their first Canadian winters.
Why we haven’t adapted our construction techniques to take advantage of these natural materials, is beyond me. Instead we build everything above ground and allow -40C wind chills to blow on our dwellings, expecting to keep warm. Even tipis were banked with snow to better insulate them and keep everyone inside from freezing in the winter.
Clothing
Parkas
Many prehistorians believe that without intricate sewing methods to make windproof and waterproof clothing northern Indigenous People might never have inhabited the interior Canadian Arctic where winter temperatures are often deadly. The modern Canadian parka is a derivative of Inuit parkas made from caribou skin to keep out cold and moisture.
Inuit People deal with some of the harshest, deadliest climates on the face of the earth. But, it wasn’t just the cold in the winter that could harm you. The sun’s glare off the bright snow was also harmful. Snow goggles, to prevent snow blindness likely originated in Siberia and the Canadian Arctic.
Wool Blankets Become Capotes and Jackets
The wool blanket soon became an important trade article for northern Indigenous People of Canada. But the blanket was was often repurposed into many articles by both Indigenous People and French Canadian Voyageurs.
One article of clothing perhaps above all others, the wool capote, or blanket coat, was specifically made to deal with the harsh Canadian winters. It was warm and light. If it got wet it was easy to dry. It was soon modified into various types of coats according to the needs and tastes of those wearing it.
“The Metis man’s winter attire was the capote; a thigh length coat with full length sleeves which could come with or without a hood or cape. Most had small shoulder decorations made of red stroud. To get the coat closed were both thongs and buttons or a sash.”
Lawrence J. Barkwell
What started simply as a wool blanket coat for winter use continued to transition. Through fashion the blanket coat or Mackinaw established itself with our Canadian identity in a number of ways. The British military used them during the war of 1812, shortening them from the traditional blanket coats. Unable to find enough blue blankets, the commanding officer had the coats made of tartan designed wool blankets. Today’s tartan Mackinaw jackets are a derivative of those early army coats.
Transportation
Given our severe winter weather our ability to get around is hampered considerably. Here are a few things we did about it.
Snowshoes
The origin and age of snowshoes is not precisely known. Archaeologists currently believe they were invented between 4,000 to 6,000 years ago somewhere in central Asia. However, these first snowshoes were made of wood or leather blocks or planks. Indigenous People in Canada invented the lighter webbed snowshoe. There are many designs depending on region and type of snow cover.
Snowshoes also became important in the Canadian fur trade. Women living at the forts netted the snowshoes using specially made bone needles.
From Sleds and Toboggans to Snowmobiles
In a previous post I talked about the long history of sledding in Canada and the strong dog sledding tradition which originated among northern Inuit People. Because of our strong sledding traditions and winters, it’s not surprising then that the first snowmobiles were built in Canada. In 1935 Joseph Bombardier assembled and successfully tested the first snowmobile. The first model had a sprocket wheel and a track drive system, steered by skis.
Snowblower
In 1925, in Montreal, Canada, Arthur Sicard constructed the first self-propelled rotary snow blower, based on the concept of farm grain threshers.
The Future
As our Canadian climate continually challenges us, people experiment with new methods and technologies to either cope better with winter, or take advantage of what it gives us.
I recently read about a joint research project between McMaster University and UCLA. Researchers are developing a method to harness electricity from falling snow. According to an article by Mark Wilson: “Researchers at UCLA have developed a first-of-its-kind breakthrough by building a small silicone sensor-generator that can harvest electricity directly from snow–dubbed a “snow-based triboelectric nanogenerator” or “Snow TENG.” It could lead to a new wave of wearable electronics, more efficient solar panels, and even entire buildings that can produce energy during winter weather with a simple coat of paint.” (Courtesy of: https://www.fastcompany.com/90339438/winter-is-coming-but-good-news-we-can-now-harvest-energy-from-snow)
Essentially researchers constructed a thin sheet of silicone: “The thin device works by harnessing static electricity. Positively-charged falling snow collides with the negatively-charged silicone device, which produces a charge that’s captured by an electrode.”
Well, the snow is falling anyway, so we might as well take advantage of it. For some odd reason, snow carries a positive electric charge. However, as Wilson further elaborates in his article, the ingenious part of this technology is its application. If you attach a piece of this silicone to the bottom of your winter boot and it comes in contact with snow it produces electricity.
I’m not sure where this nanotechnology will go but what about putting a layer on winter automobile tires. Is that possible? Researchers are already experimenting with tires that make electricity caused by the friction between the tire and the road surface. Why not snow?
Hygge – What?
Everyone’s occasionally felt it in the dark, cold winter. Feeling a little mentally low. When you’re stuck inside. And it’s freezing cold outside.
The Danes have tried to replace this feeling with one of well-being in the winter instead. They call it Hygge.
According to one article, Hygge isn’t a word—it’s a feeling. According to The Hope Chest: “It’s that feeling you get when you come inside after a long, cold, windy day and see a beautiful dinner, and the whole house smells like frikadeller. It is the warmth of a fireside glow at the coffee shop, or a warmhearted conversation with a friend. It is woolen slippers and a plush blanket curled up with a book, or a quaint dinner party with your closest friends. Hygge is anything that makes you feel comfortable and content.” (Courtesy of: https://danishhomeofchicago.org/the-hope-chest/2019/01/07/top-ten-scandinavian-inventions/)
Well, I’ve searched for my own Canadian version of Hygge. I think I’ve found it. On a cold, dark, January Canadian winter evening I like to have a few of these below to deal with our weather. Who knows, maybe it will even catch on. Easy on the ice though….
Note: This is a revised and condensed version of an article we recently published in the Saskatchewan Archaeological Newsletter Quarterly, May, 2021 edition, regarding our search for the the Chesterfield House fur trade sites in Spring, 2021. Readers are referred to this edition of the Quarterly for a more detailed version of our findings.
Time and the Unknown
Ah, the mystery of the unknown! It’s one of the things that first drew me to history and archaeology. The thrill of discovering new facts, objects or places, lost or abandoned centuries ago. It didn’t matter if they were only minor footnotes in the bigger picture of human history.
One of the most rewarding and challenging experiences in my career was searching for the many lost fur trade posts in western Canada. The remains of some lay hidden in front of our very noses. Others, so remote and covered by nature, it took considerable effort or sensitive equipment to eventually find them. Still others guard their hiding places well, and to this day, elude discovery.
This is a story about a search for one of those fur trade post that has eluded us for many years – Chesterfield House. A search that began in the mid-1960s. But for me it began in c.2005 and continues to this day. Because no one has yet found Chesterfield House.
Searching for Canada’s Fur Trade Forts
In an earlier blog I talked about explorer and mapmaker David Thompson. One of the world’s most remarkable geographers and mapmakers. Thompson visited many western fur trade forts and wrote about them or mapped them. Often he left behind clues for us relocate them. Such as the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c1798-1830) site in northern Alberta. (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=1894&action=edit)
In this post I focus on another lesser-known but equally competent trader, surveyor and mapmaker, Peter Fidler of the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC). And in particular, his brief, and sometimes scary stay in southern Saskatchewan at the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers where he would build his fort.
In the fall of 1800 Fidler built Chesterfield House for the HBC. Soon after the North West Company (NWC) built alongside the HBC post, followed by the XY Company. Many (including me) have searched for them but, to this day, they have never been found.
Peter Fidler
Born at Bolsover, Derbyshire, England, Peter Fidler (16 August 1769 – 17 December 1822) joined the HBC in 1788. He was trained in surveying and astronomy by Philip Turnor who also trained David Thompson. Fidler became the Company’s chief surveyor and map-maker, much like David Thompson for the NWC.
While acting as trader, explorer, and mapmaker, Fidler also observed and wrote about the Indigenous peoples of the region. He married a Cree woman and learned Native languages to carry out the trade. Occasionally he convinced his Native informants to draw maps of their territories for him. Today these are some of the few surviving Native maps of western Canada (see a former post on the Ki-oo-cus map of southern and central Alberta. (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=266&action=edit). His journeys, largely undertaken in western Canada, covered an estimated 48,000 miles on horseback, foot, canoe and dog team.
Fidler’s superiors admired his toughness and fortitude. For example, while traveling and wintering with the Chipewyan in northern Alberta and the NWT, a near-starving Fidler mentioned what parts of a game animal they ate to stay alive: “We eat everything except the manure.”
Fidler had some incredible adventures as a trader and explorer for the HBC. A few could have ended his life. One of these adventures required constructing a fur trade post on the Western Canadian prairies. He built the fort with the intent of trading with Plains First Nations peoples. After only a few years, Fidler and the other Companies abandoned their forts, barely escaping with their lives.
Where did the Companies Build?
For many years I heard about the mysterious Chesterfield House(s) and attempts to find them. All searches ended in failure. But why? How could three forts of considerable size, just disappear, without a trace, in the valleys of the Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers? Or perhaps, as some researchers suggested, had those waters already swallowed them up leaving no trace behind?
In 2005, while visiting and hunting in the area, and intrigued with the lost Chesterfield House, I too joined the search.
As with other similar searches, nothing is ever as simple as it first appears. This quest was no exception. It has taken me since 2005 to finally piece enough evidence together to make the modest claim that I might have a candidate where these fur trade forts were built. And I, like others before me, could be totally wrong.
Let’s start our search with Fidler’s Chesterfield House HBC journals (1800 – 1802). In them he gives only a few but very specific references to the fort’s location.
Fidler gives the latitude of the south bank of the Red Deer River where he intends to build: 50o, 55’, 5” (50.9222o). Fidler’s latitude calculations were quite accurate. Longitude was not. But, if we take Fidler at his word, we really don’t need longitude because Fidler gives us a fairly precise east-west reference point where he built the fort – the confluence of the two rivers.
While rereading Fidler’s published journals (for the umpteenth time) this spring, I noticed at the end of the 1800-01 trading season a note by the editor: “[Meteorological and Astronomical Observations, made at Chesterfield House, covering 15 manuscript pages, not printed]” (From Alice Johnson 1967:268. Saskatchewan Journals and Correspondence 1795 – 1802. The Hudson’s Bay Record Society, Volume XXVI). I wondered if Fidler gave a more accurate reading of latitude and longitude for Chesterfield House in those unpublished notes. Fortunately I was able to get hold of a copy of his original journal, including the missing 15 pages.
Yes, indeed. Fidler gives two readings for latitude at Chesterfield House: 1) 50o55’12” (50.920o); and, 2) 50o55’21’’ (50.9225o). Both readings are relatively similar to his original north riverbank reading recorded at the confluence of the two rivers where initially he wanted to build. Had they been significantly different then it might suggest he built elsewhere (than right at the confluence).
Next I looked at a few historic maps of the area. One map shows the location of Chesterfield House, marked by a dot, on the north side of the South Saskatchewan River, some distance downriver from the forks. But Fidler stated, “…opposite the mouth of the Red Deers River where we are to build…”
Then I found another map drawn by both Fidler and his Blackfoot informant, Ak ko Wee ak in 1802. Does the straight line across the Red Deer River, with Chesterfield House’ written on it, indicate where the fort was built? If so, it was built upriver from the confluence of the two rivers.
Unfortunately no one, while searching for the forts, has taken the Native maps or Fidler’s latitude reading of the forts location very seriously. Keep in mind, Fidler was a very accurate surveyor for his day, especially when it came to calculating latitude. His readings were out by about 15 seconds of latitude, or +/- 450 metres.
If we ran his latitude for Chesterfield House as a straight straight line across a current map, assuming about 15 seconds (~450m) of error (shown by orange dashed lines on either side of the black line), where might the fort(s) be located?
Another little hint, where the Chesterfield forts might have been built, was a comment in Peter Fidler’s journals. “Dug up the small bateau that was laid up in the spring: the heavy rise of water in the summer had buried it four feet deep in sand.” (From Alice Johnson 1967:268. Saskatchewan Journals and Correspondence 1795 – 1802. The Hudson’s Bay Record Society, Volume XXVI). Presumably the boat was near the fort. If so, it suggests the fort was located on an inside meander of the river, where flood sediments are deposited. Instead of the outside meander where high water cuts away the bank.
We haven’t looked for these forts at all the possible places that are within Fidler’s range of error for latitude. And there are reasons for it. This is large area filled with dense wolf willow scrub and wild rose bushes that is not too pleasant to walk through, or find things. And Fidler’s reference to the forts being built at the forks of the rivers has perhaps been taken too literally. Would the London Committee reading his journals really care if he built a mile or two either way of the forks?
To add yet another obstacle to our search, not everything historical in this area is related to the early 19th century fur trade. This area was occupied and traveled over for thousands of years by First Nations Peoples. It became an important Metis settlement, Riviere La Biche, in the 1870s and 1880s, which would have left physical remains similar to those present at earlier fur trade forts.
The Search Continues, Spring 2021
This spring (2021), when preparing this blog, I wanted a good satellite image of the forks area where Chesterfield House might be located. While doing so I noticed a long rectangle-shaped, light-colored outline on the satellite image.
After reviewing the historic documents, satellite images, and constructing arguments that this might be the lost Chesterfield House forts, the next step was to re-revisit the site and look for physical clues on the ground.
So, my wife, Gabriella Prager, also an archaeologist, and I drove to the Empress area in April to see what we could see. When I visited this same location in 2005, I saw some rock scatters and slight depressions. It was time to reevaluate what those features might be, relative to this new-found evidence.
Once there, we looked for depressions, pits, rocks or mounds or any other evidence that could indicate a human occupation. The surface of this area is quite undulating and uneven from repeated flooding and scouring over the years. Just how much sediment covers the original 1800 ground surface is uncertain without excavating. However, based on other floodplains of this vintage (e.g., the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I site, northern Alberta), there could be as much as one-half metre or more sediments covering the original land surface and the remains of anything built on that surface. Fidler’s description of the bateau buried in over four feet of river sediments is most telling in this regard. And that was just one of many flooding events since then.
When walking the area we noticed the ground was slightly elevated on the east and south sides. These elevated areas were likely responsible for the light-colored lines we saw on the satellite image. Normally, old stockade lines are slightly depressed, even after flooding. We did however also notice a few rock scatters and slight depressions with the rectangular outline.
What We Concluded
It would be folly to state, without first excavating and testing this area, that we have discovered the Chesterfield House sites. We first need to find certain kinds of other archaeological evidence to suggest that these features, and that intriguing rectangular satellite image, are related to the early 19th century fur trade, and not some later period Metis household: 1) footer trenches representing palisades; 2) early 19th century artifacts representing the time period in question; 3) more building remains confined to the rectangle; and, 4) considerable amounts of animal bone from both human consumption of wild game and making meat provisions for the trip downriver.
There are things about this site that are troubling and do not fit what I expect to see on the surface of the ground; if this were a historic fur trade fort. First is the lack of more obvious visible surface features such as chimney piles and cellar depressions. Second, is the lack of visible faunal debris, or any artifacts. Given the amount of meat consumed, animal bone remains are typically considerable at forts such as this.
To some degree, this lack of evidence might be explained by the amount of flooding that has occurred in the area. If substantial, it may have covered any historic remains with considerable sediments and infilling most depressions that would be cellars, privies, and refuse pits. However, at other fur trade sites abandoned for over 200 years and constantly flooded, we have observed more pronounced surface features than we see here. However, currently we know little about flooding episodes and depositional rate of sediments of the Red Deer River, which could be quite different from our northern rivers.
To be clear, without further investigations, what we (and others) have found is definite proof of a human occupation of some sort at this spot. Based on the historic evidence regarding Chesterfield House, this location is a suitable candidate for these early NWC, HBC and XY Company forts. But, that’s as far as we can go presently. The area warrants further archaeological investigations to either refute or verify our claim.
EndNote
For those of who you who are aspiring students of history or archaeology, there’s a simple lesson here. Combining the evidence from two disciplines (history and archaeology) usually results in a more complete understating of human history. Not always, but better two independent lines of evidence to examine a problem of history, than only one. And perhaps, with the new remote sensing imagery, more than only two disciplines is necessary to eventually find these rather elusive historic forts.
“Now of course, the great thing about the solar system as a frontier is that there are no Indians, so you can have all the glory of the myth of the American [Canadian] westward expansion without any of the guilt. (Sarah Zettel, brackets mine)
The Meeting, Ottawa, Canada, 1868
A small group of very powerful men sat in the room, on chairs pulled closely together, bent over talking quietly. Almost in whispers as if not wanting to be overheard. On seeing this meeting one would wonder. Why? Why are they whispering? There’s no one else in the room.
One of the more prominent members of the group was speaking. “We must act soon if we are to join the Territories to the rest of Canada. The Americans just bought Alaska and are beginning to look north at our North-WestTerritories, now mostly run by the Company. Soon their greed will overcome them and they will find an excuse to move north. First, we have to buy Rupert’s Land from the Hudson’s Bay Company. We must acquire those territories at all costs.” Everyone nodded in agreement.
“And, I think if we promise British Columbia a railway, linking them to the east, they may join the Confederation.
The speaker sighed as he mentally went through the long list of things that needed doing. “We can’t build it until the Indians are removed from those territories. We need to deal with that issue as well.” He looked over at the others. Again, they nodded their heads in agreement.
“Then our course of action is clear, gentlemen. If we are to unite this Country we must face these, shall we say, somewhat distasteful realities.” At those words, the speaker’s mouth twisted into a shape suggesting he had just sucked on a lemon.
He wasn’t finished. “First we buy Rupert’s Land from the Company. Then we remove the Indians and Metis from the territories and settle for treaties and reserves. Next, we search for capital to build this blasted thing. It won’t be cheap.” He hesitated, scratching his head, as if there was something he had missed. The others looked on expectantly waiting for him to continue.
Finally, after some pause, he spoke. “Oh yes, there is one more small problem. We need cheap labour to build the railroad. Many hands will be needed which will increase costs. The work will be dangerous and there may be fatalities.”
Those present waited for him to continue. As if expecting a solution. “At this moment I don’t have a solution, but will start looking into the matter.” Again, heads bobbed in unison all around. As if this last statement was merely another one of many obstacles to overcome in their eventual quest. Nothing, it seemed, could get in the way of the national dream.
Kisikawasan (Flash in the Sky), 1882
The Cree leader and his band, the Young Dogs, were tired from their long ride. His one name was Piapot or Payipwat(One Who Knows the Secrets of the Sioux). The other Kisikawasan. In his hands he held his Winchester repeating rifle. He sat on his horse, looking out onto the rippling prairie grasses at the territory he had chosen for his people, just north of the Cypress Hills. And smack in the way of the proposed new CPR mainline.
He turned to one of his men. “First the Blue Coats humiliate us, escorting us back like children to our lands. Now this man closes the fort of the Red Coats and stops feeding us unless we move to another territory. The buffalo are gone. Our people are starving. Gather them. We must move. Or many will die.”
Edgar Dewdney, recently appointed Lieutenant Governor of the North-West Territories as well as Indian Commissioner, which brought him an additional stipend of $2,000, looked on as the bands began to move north and east to other territories.
One of his subordinates, also looking on, turned his way. “Well, I guess your plan worked, Sir. You sure showed them. They go willingly enough when starving. And, finally we have removed them from the railway right-of-way. That defiant one, they call Piapot, would have put his tipi in the way of the proposed railway line if we hadn’t interfered.”
Dewdney only grunted and shook his head, in a noncommittal manner. He had just closed Fort Walsh to the Natives and stopped giving the Cree rations, unless they cooperated and moved off these lands. It was a grim business this railroad building but that was what Macdonald wanted. Even if it meant breaking the treaties, which they were already doing.
Some of the other men in Dewdney’s party overheard his assistant’s comments. And soon the rumors and stories spread. ‘The great lieutenant governor stood up to Piapot and his Young Dogs, and along with the NWMP, kicked them off their lands.’
Truth was soon twisted. And the new truth became myth.
………………….
The Saskatchewan family were driving down the newly built Trans Canada Highway on the Canadian Prairies alongside the Canadian Pacific mainline. A young Harry Reed peered out the window in the back seat of his father’s car. As they passed the little village and the road sign bearing its name, Harry asked, “Piapot? What does that name mean, dad?”
“I don’t know, Harry. Makes no sense, this word, Piapot. Maybe something to do with a pot.” Harry shrugged. His parents didn’t know much about Canadian history. He would ask his teachers.
“Well, according to the stories I heard, Harry, that is the name of a prominent Cree Chief who at this very place put his tipi in the way of the new CPR line. He claimed these lands as his and was going to battle the Canadian Government for them. The NWMP came and kicked over his tipi and dragged him off the line. He was then moved to other lands.”
Harry thought about the teacher’s answer. He shook his head, imagining that past. Thinking to himself. ‘But, if he was so bad, why did they then name a village after him? To mock him?’
Myth is embedded in history. So, how can it not be true.
Put A Tax on Their Heads, 1884
“It is simply a question of alternatives: either you must have this labour or you can’t have the railway.” (John A. Macdonald, 1882, Canadian Parliament, speaking in defense of bringing in cheap Chinese labor, against the wishes of many Canadians, to build the Canadian Pacific Railroad)
Williams, one of the CPR herders of the Chinese work crews, opened the door and entered the crowded Chinese living barracks beside the CPR track, deep in the Canadian Rockies. The crews were building the Canadian Pacific Railway through one of its toughest stretches. The Fraser Canyon, British Columbia.
A large plume of blue tobacco smoke, and the smell of sweat of fifty men, passed him on its way out. Williams looked at the scene. They were gambling again. Hands thrust in the air with money frantically trying to place their bets.
Williams leaned over to one the of Chinese workers who spoke broken, but decent English. And yelled at the top of his voice. “What are they doing, Li Qiang?”
Li Qiang only shook his head. “You must speak louder.”
“Are they placing bets?,” roared Williams almost losing his tonsils in the process.
“Yes, Mr. Williams. New game.” Winner makes lots of money.”
“What new game, Li Qiang? How do you fellas have enough energy for games considering how hard you work?”
“We bet on everything. Even how many railroad ties needed for certain section of track. Or, maybe how many spikes bent laying that track. You want play? Cost you your four dollars a day wages, not my one dollar a day wages.”
“That’s rather sad, Li Qiang! Why do you bet on such trivial things?”
“Why sad, Williams? Everyone count, then bet. Might as well gamble. It keeps our minds off the hard, dangerous work.”
“But why do you gamble away your hard-earned money? You should be saving to go home or bring your families to Canada.”
“We not save enough to go home. Or bring families. Only way is to gamble. This way at least some get rich.”
“Maybe we even gamble when you have accident herder, or that pig, Oderbunk.” With those words, Li Qiang spat on the floor as if trying to remove a bad taste from his mouth. Oderbunk was the Chinese contractor who brought the Chinese to work on the railway. The mere mention of his name raised the hackles of these men.
A now somewhat worried Williams noticed the room had gone silent, with the mention of Oderbunk’s name. Many of the workers were looking at him. And in a not too kindly way. He only shook his head and left, opening the door and taking more smoke and smell with him on the way out. Behind him he heard the shouting and betting start again.
‘That stupid, greedy Andrew Oderbunk is behind a lot of this madness. Treating them like animals. No wonder they almost killed him in that strike in 1881. Given their work and future, what have they got to lose? Besides their lives.’
…………………
The railroad work crews were having lunch outside one on the many tunnels in the Fraser Canyon, below the majestic peaks of the Rockies. Suddenly the blast came, followed by the concussion of air knocking them off the rail cars and onto the shaking ground. Then silence as the large plume of dust enveloped them.
Eventually out of the silence and debris, a dust-covered Chinese worker staggered, barely coherent screaming in Cantonese. Most of his clothes had been torn off, his hair and eyebrows singed, still smoldering.
“The tunnel entrance. Cheap explosives go off too soon. Everything smashed, everyone gone…” His last words failed him as he collapsed in a heap on the ground, blood now coming out of his ears.
…………………..
At the end of the month Williams walked into the Chinese workers’ barracks again to the same commotion and racket that had greeted him before. On the bench beside the booky stood a rather forlorn looking young Chinese man. The booky had propped his hands in the air as if in victory.
Williams looked for Li Qiang, finally seeing him among the men. “Are they betting again, Li Qiang?”
“No. First announcing winner.”
“So, I take it that’s the winner standing on the bench. He guessed how many rail ties it took to build that stretch this month? Or, whether I would die? If he won, why is he looking so gloomy? He probably won a month’s wages, or more.”
“Won bet, but lost brother in explosion.”
“But why are you betting on these things ? Surely, without betting, you can save enough money to go back to China.”
Li Qiang cocked his head to one side considering Williams. “We save little. That swine, Oderbunk take much money. We hear head tax coming. Must pay head tax to bring our families from China.”
Then Li Qiang walked off getting ready to place another bet, leaving a gaping Williams only shaking his head. Head tax? So the rumors really were true.
…………………….
Victoria, British Columbia, 1884
“So just how many Chinese workers died, Oderbunk? I’m getting writing cramps trying to keep up with the Prime Minister’s telegrams.” The chief commissioner was not a happy man. And he sensed this man was not being forthright with him.
The nervous Oderbunk fidgeted in his chair, licking his lips. Beside him sat Williams, one of his chief foremen to help with the details. Finally Oderbunk answered. “Well. We’re not quite sure, Commissioner, how many we’ve lost.”
The now fuming Commissioner next asked like what seemed a series of very sensible questions. “What do you mean you’re not sure? Don’t you record the deaths? You’re responsible for compensation to their families and returning their remains back home, are you not?” You pay them. When they don’t show up, well, they must be dead?”
“Well, Sir. Often we can’t recover the bodies. They fall into the canyon or the river and are swept away. And, many of these men desert to find work elsewhere. So, when they don’t show up, we’re not always sure what happened.” Oderbunk hoped this answer might appease the Commissioner. And avoid that nasty little business about not recovering the bodies or compensating the families. It did not.
After the meeting a rather shaken Williams walked away thinking some nasty, nasty things about Oderbunk. Almost ready to return to the camps where the Chinese were betting. ‘No, no, I can’t do that. Put that thought out of your mind, Williams.’
Later Immigrants and the CPR
Harry Reed sat in the living room listening to his father and uncle talk about their days with the CPR. Occasionally the conversation became quite animated. In fact, almost hostile.
“Why don’t you agree, Walter. The Company was good to us. We made a living, fed our families. Yes, we had to work a little, but at least we had work.”
‘That’s an understatement,’ thought Harry. ‘Work a little?’ But then that’s what Uncle Bob thought because Harry, in his short years on earth, had never met a harder worker. While others grumbled, Uncle Bob thrived. He loved the work.
Walter did not. Unable to listen any longer, Walter got mad. “The CPR, Robert, was SCHEISSE! They treated us worse than animals. Vie Verschissende Hunde, Robert. “While Walter’s English was a little rough, his vocabulary in swear words seemed well rounded. In English. German. Even a few Polish and Ukrainian gems occasionally thrown in there.
Walter picked up the silver railroad spike opener from the table and cracked a few beer. Red-faced he needed a drink when talking about the CPR with Robert. He looked down at the silver opener.
“See this spike, Robert. This was given to me by my son’s friend. That’s more than that God………… CPR ever gave me. One-hundred and sixty dollars pension a month after thirty years of working for them. And a piece of paper thanking me. That’s all I got. You know what I’d like to do with this spike. Shove it up some big-shot CPR’s as….” Della, also listening cut Walter off before his words landed him in the abyss.
“Now Walter. I don’t think swearing at the CPR is going to help anything.”
“Cripe-No-Mighty,” grumbled a still steaming Walter. He had designed a unique series of cuss words all his own.
Then he touched the permanent reddened part of his ear, which always itched, remembering what else he got while sitting on the little open railroad scooter inspecting the tracks on a breezy winter Saskatchewan day with windchill of minus forty degrees Fahrenheit.
But Robert, ever the optimist, continued. “Well, if you had joined the CPR extra gangs, you would have made more money and been promoted. And now your pension would be much better. Like mine.”
“Those were nothing but slave camps, Robert. What kind of life is that? Being months away from your family with little time off. How could you like that life? Nothing but a sweat house for dumb, uneducated immigrants like us. Who couldn’t find any other work.” Words that perhaps were a little over-exaggerated, but Walter didn’t care anymore. Finally he stopped and drained half his beer, hoping to drown the memories of the CPR and all it stood for.
Uncle Bob continued, but Walter had tuned out thinking about one of the many dark times he had on that cursed railroad.
Harry kept quiet and just listened. When Walter and Bob talked railroad, it was best to just stay of out of the way. Pretend he wasn’t even there.
Harry was suddenly jolted out of his referee, realizing that Uncle Bob was talking to him. “See Walter, even your son got along with the CPR extra gangs. He liked it. Even got promoted. Right, Harry?”
Harry, out of respect for his uncle, simply nodded and said nothing. ‘Wrong, Uncle Bob. I love and respect you. But on that count you are wrong. That was an awful job.’
Then Harry thought back to the CPR extra gangs. Glorious times indeed. He’d hoped those memories had disappeared into the past. But, some of them were hard to erase.
Myth, if repeated long enough, becomes the new reality.
College Boy Meets the CPR Extra Gangs, Spring, 1973
Harry had just been interviewed by Parks Canada for a summer job as an interpreter at the historic National Site, Fort Walsh, Saskatchewan. It would have been the perfect job. It was close to home, paid well, and was the kind of work he was studying at the University of Alberta. But it didn’t happen.
“I need a job, Uncle Bob. I have to pay my university tuition and board. There’s little work out there.”
“Well, maybe I can get you on the CPR extra gangs. It’s good, steady work and I think you can handle it.”
“When can I start, Uncle”, asked the somewhat forlorn looking Harry? Walter was standing by, shaking his head. He said little, thinking. Maybe this was a good thing. His son needed some harsh lessons in reality. He was treating university like a training ground for the fine art of partying.
“O.K. Harry, give me a few days, and then I’ll phone you. We’re working on the main line near Medicine Hat. Not too far from home with your one day off.”
Harry gulped. Did he hear right? ‘One day off.’ That of course meant working six days a week. But, the worst was yet to come.
……………………
It was still dark outside. Pitch black in fact. Suddenly someone was walking through the rail sleeping car, shouting. “Time to get up boys. Breakfast is on the table. The cook grumbles when you’re late.”
Harry and others groaned trying to wake up. Sleeping was tough on the mainline. When every two hours another freight train raced by them at fifty miles an hour, eight feet away.
That voice almost had a cheerful ring to it, which made it even harder to listen to at four AM in the morning. His friend Phil, bunking next to him finally sat up. “One of these mornings I’ll strangle that cheery bastard.”
“They’ll just replace him with another one. I think they get paid extra for that voice.”
Harry finally got up and dressed. Ready for the day. After three weeks working on the gangs, his muscles were no longer screaming in agony. The blisters on his university hands had finally healed and hardened up. “Well let’s get something to eat and see what cookie burned this morning.”
As they neared the rail cook car, the noise and hubbub grew louder. Suddenly one of the the windows of the cook car blew out, closely followed by what looked like a platter of cold meat.
Then there was a lot of yelling inside the cook car. Harry heard one of his other friends, Jim’s voice, screaming. “How can you put that shit on a plate and serve it to us? Look at it. It’s green. Meat isn’t supposed to be green. I’m going to kick your ass all the way to Medicine Hat…” Then Harry heard running as cookie, fearing for his life, quickly existed the cook car. Never to return.
Well, another day starts on the gangs. What will happen next? There was still twelve hours of back-breaking work ahead. The day was young. A lot could happen.
…………………….
The ballast crew was running beside the ballast cars, on the sloped, rocky rail track trying to open the bottom doors with their hand cranks. To pour out the crushed rock around and between the new ties and track. It was a smoldering hot prairie afternoon, the air was choked with dust from the ballast.
This was one of the toughest jobs on the gangs. But, you got a little extra time off at the end of day because of the hard work. And if you wanted to get promoted to a machine, this was one way of doing it.
The train had to go at just the right speed so that the ballast could be poured evenly onto the rail bed and tracks. Too slow and too much ballast came out, derailing the cars. Too fast, and there wasn’t enough ballast to fill the tracks.
As the train reached the slope heading into Medicine Hat, it sped up. Harry’s lungs were about to burst as he ran along his rail car, trying to keep up. Someone screamed. “We’re going too fast. Tell that engineer to slow down or this will be a disaster.” In the distance Harry heard foremen screaming into their radios.
But the engineer didn’t slow down. And soon Harry’s buddies started to abandon ship. He saw John, bent over puking up the ballast dust he ingested. Then out of the corner of his other eye, he saw Amos desperately trying to hang onto his crank, sent tumbling off the grade disappearing into the rail ditch. Finally the rest of crew, including Harry, had stopped cranking.
Another day, another dollar on the extra gangs. Well, not quite that bad. Thirty-nine dollars to be fair.
………………….
The work crews stood in line for their midday lunch beside the tracks. Which was brought out to them by the cooks. One half-hour to eat and then it was back to work.
The prairie sun was blazing down on the exposed track sending heat waves into the air. The shimmering railroad track looked like a mirage in the distance. It was exposed, lying naked on the rail bed with no ballast to keep it in place.
Someone in the lunch line started pushing. And the yelling and cursing started. “Out of the way, turban-head. We need to eat and get back to work.” One of the crew, who seemed to have a particular dislike for the East Indian workers, was trying to butt in line and get his lunch before disaster struck.
Then the fighting in the lunch line broke out in earnest. Pushing, shoving. Kicking and punches thrown before the foremen stepped in and broke it up.
“Stop it, Kenny. They don’t understand English very well and you’re not exactly Mr. articulate either. They think you’re butting in. Here, step aside and I’ll sort this out.”
Uncle Bob was patiently trying to explain Kenny’s rudeness to the East Indians. “These men have to eat first. There’s no ballast on the tracks…”
His words were cut off by a loud SNAP. Followed by another SNAP. And then it happened. The Canadian Pacific railway, which had lain on this track for nearly one-hundred years, decided to take a walk. Off the rail bed towards the ditch.
Men scrambled in every direction, fully knowing what was taking place. Karl, roadmaster of the extra gang, ran up, breathless. “Hurry up. Let’s get out there before it…”
Everyone stared as the entire mile of rail turned into a writhing steel snake and began moving toward the ditch, as the now hot steel rails expanded in the noonday heat.
“Or what Karl, before the tracks go in the ditch.”
The CPR mainline was shut down for many hours. Backing up freight trains in both directions. Because of one overzealous gang boss who was trying to repair too much track at once and not paying attention to the weather. Or the laws of physics.
Harry watched with fascination. How could a mile of steel rail suddenly look like a wet noodle? And then he realized what this meant. Overtime. The men wouldn’t leave here until eight or nine tonight. Maybe midnight. That mainline had to be opened or heads would roll.
And another day on the extra gangs was finished.
………………….
“See Walter. Your son could do it. He worked on the gangs and made some good money.”
Harry rolled his eyes. Hardly. He’d managed to get on one of the machines for three weeks and did make twice as much money as before. And then they all went on strike because of the poor working conditions and wages, and Harry went back to school.
“Those were good boys, Walter and Della. They worked hard and sometimes they got into a little trouble. Some were a little rough around the edges. Like the time they got into a fight in a bar and spent the night in the Calgary jai…”
Harry, having taken lessons from his mother, cut off his uncle’s words. “Uncle Bob, I’m sure mom and dad don’t want to hear that story.” Harry anxiously looked at his mother who now had that knowing look on her face.
“Come Harry, tell your mother the rest of that story. I like stories. I can hardly wait to hear it.
……………………
EndNote:
I am not a great fan of the Canadian Pacific Railway. Or other similar corporations. I’m not anti-capitalist. I just don’t like it when large corporations become greedy. Yes, a transcontinental railway was sorely needed to tie together an enormous country and its shareholders and owners had to pay off the $100,000,000 it cost to build it. But throughout its history the CPR made considerable profits off the backs of immigrant labourers, treating them poorly, or worse. There was a lot of labour unrest and discrimination against some minorities even in the 1970s when I worked there. And today the Company still makes tremendous profits. In 2016, the CPR had a $6.2 billion revenue and $1.6 billion dollars in profit and held assets valued at $19.2 billion dollars. Its top CEO made close to twenty million dollars a year, with perks and shares in the Company.
When I was a kid, we learned that the Cree Chief Piapot tried to stop the building of the CPR mainline by pitching his tent in the way. Presumably somewhere near today’s Piapot, Saskatchewan. The story goes that he was forcefully removed by the North West Mounted Police. Historians have pored through the documents and there is not a shred of evidence to support that story. But it somehow seems to resonate better among Canadians than: ‘First Nations people were starved to force them off the lands, so that the railway could be built.’
The story of the Chinese immigrants brought over by the CPR to help build the railroad is equally sad. Their struggle and sacrifice is finally being told and recognized. In this story, I mentioned the Head Tax put on Chinese immigrants to prevent them from coming to Canada. Many Chinese workers could not save enough to either return to China or pay it to bring over their families. In the story I have deliberately changed the name of the chief contractor, responsible for bringing in Chinese workers and the horrendous conditions they had to put up with. With a little research you can easily find out his real name. Because of the poor records kept, even to this day no one knows for certain how many Chinese workers died building the railway (everywhere from 600 – 2,000).
Although I try not to judge history, and instead document and research it, I can’t help but have some deep emotional feelings for the many many ethnic minorities who toiled to build the intercontinental railway and then maintain it. My parents, relatives and some of our friends were among them.
As was I for what seemed like one of the longest summers of my life. I saw firsthand the poor working conditions and continued racism even in the 1970s. The East Indian workers were now the new Chinese. After that summer of ’73’, my university career outlook became more focused as I realized that I didn’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps. I ended up shoveling dirt anyway, but had way more fun doing it.
(Turkish novelist, screenwriter, academic and recipient of the 2006 Nobel Prize in Literature.)
In a recent news article an Edmonton reporter trashed the 1966 Mercury pickup truck display at the new Royal Alberta Museum, Edmonton, Canada. It was too ordinary and boring and really was not museum worthy. I can’t imagine what she would have said about my choice of the first image for this post.
The dilemma we often face when dealing with material culture, be it thousands of years or a few years old, is choice and selection. Museum staff are faced with the often impossible challenge of meeting the many expectations of many people. As formidable an experience as I have ever faced, either when curating a museum collection, or writing about human history using material culture as the medium.
We are expected to conserve and curate, inform and educate, entertain and stimulate, with the objects we choose to display or write about. Therein lies a problem. Many of those unique, precious, or rare artifacts certainly stimulate and entertain. They catch our attention. But, often they don’t inform a lot about the majority of society, past or present.
The rare bone toothbrush I posted on in an earlier blog has a certain WOW! factor to it. But, it says little about most of the people of the fur trade who didn’t use these articles. The more common duct tape however, informs more about Canadian culture than the toothbrush. I’m almost certain we have no duct tape in our Royal Alberta Museum collections. Perhaps had the Red Green show continued, duct tape would have reached museum status.
The more common folk artifact is often is underrepresented in displays or literature. While informative, it’s boring. Is there a solution?
Not be deterred or ignore the common artifact, I have chosen to write about the most mundane artifact I could think of (there are many to choose from). The common nail and that clunky railroad spike.
Even everyday things often have a complex history and perform an important role in society. And as one of my mentors, historical archaeologist James Deetz, in his book, In Small Things Forgotten once said, all material things, regardless of their size, value, or context have meaning and a story to tell. It’s up to those of us studying them to tease out that meaning and those stories.
Nails, of every shape, size and material, were used for boat building, furniture making, attaching horseshoes to horses’ hooves, and of course the construction of log and wood-framed buildings. They occur in just about every society in the world that had some sort of metal forging technology. And they change in form and method of manufacture in time and space. The common wire nail you are most familiar with has had a shorter history than many of those before it.
In Canada we used hand-forged nails until about the middle of the 19th century (other dates, depending on where you live). To fashion a hand-forged nail a blacksmith heated a piece of square nail rod, then tapered it to a point. Then he put it into a nail heading jig and fashioned various types of heads depending on its function. In cross section, a hand-forged nail is tapered on all four sides from the head down to the tip.
The machine-cut nail was already invented in the 1780’s (perhaps even earlier) but not present in western Canada until the mid nineteenth century. In this process a tapered nail shank is cut from sheet metal of uniform thickness (usually iron), and then a head shaped on it. In cross-section this nail is tapered on two opposite sides but the other two opposite sides are parallel to each other. This more mechanized process produced more nails faster, probably with fewer people required to make them. It was cheaper.
The modern wire nail was developed in about 1880 in America and Europe. Pieces of steel wire were cut at an angle to make a point on one end, and a flat round head was fashioned on the other end. These nails were much cheaper to produce than square nails. The common wire nail began to appear by the turn of the 20th century in western Canada (likely earlier in the east).
Whenever I look at buildings of unknown age, I check out the nails. If they’re wire, the building likely dates after the turn of the 20th century. Even the common wire nail was superseded by the spiral shank nail in the early 1970s. Many different varieties followed.
Many of these different nail types were gradually replaced by the newer types. However, some nails, such as the horseshoe nail and common railway spike maintained their square or rectangular shanks.
Nails were made from various materials, depending on their function and method of manufacture. Probably one of the earliest type of fastener, performing the same function as a nail, was a wooden dowel. Dowels are still used today. And in the western Canadian fur trade, and early settlement period, where the transport of heavy finished nails or nail rod was costly, they often replaced nails in log building construction.
Other materials for nail-making include the more rust-resistant copper alloy nails used to build the first York boats in the western fur trade. However, for centuries the most common nail material was iron.
Both hand-forged and machine-cut nails had different head types either for decoration or better holding power. T-heads, L-heads, Rose-heads, and Gable-heads are just some of the head types found at our historic sites in Canada.
Square-shaped nails were superior to round wire nails for holding power. According to some research, the holding power of the square shank is almost double that of the round shank nail.
So, why change from a square to a round shank? Round-shank nails were easier and more economical to make despite not being as effective. However, once spiral or galvanized nails were introduced, they likely came close or were superior in holding power to the square shank nails.
So after that brief exposition on the common nail, can we now elevate it to national status, placing it beside the equally common maple leaf of national significance? Alas, despite its importance in Canadian history (what has maple leaf ever accomplished?), I just can’t visualize an image like the one below.
Well, I tried. Alas, the poor common nail can’t compete with all the ideological baggage the maple leaf carries. There are few national flags that have an object(s) as a symbol. Angola, Mozambique, Portugal. The hammer and sickle of the former Soviet Union, representing contribution of the common people, is probably the best known.
Railroad Spikes
The 19th century railroad spike, used to build the Canadian Pacific Railway had a square or rectangular shank. As I was trying to drive these damn things into the railroad ties in the summer of 1973, I wondered (between curses) if the square hole on the rail tie plates and the square shank prevented the spike from turning (resulting in failure to hold down the rail), either during attachment or the constant pounding and vibration as the trains passed over them.
Tremendous holding strength was required from a rail road spike to make sure the rails stayed in place with the hundreds of tons of trains moving over them every day. The common spike was made from a softer iron, usually with 9/16 inch thick stock, approximately 5 1/2 to 6 inches long. The point was tapered so the spike would cut across the the grain of the wood tie to prevent it from splitting.
It cost over one-hundred million dollars to build the Canadian Pacific Railroad which was completed in 1885 at Craigellachie, British Columbia. Thirty-thousand workers labored four-and-one-half years to build the 3,200km (1,939 miles) long track across Canada. A ribbon of steel finally bound the country in which the lowly railroad spike played a huge part.
I’ve done a bit of math. Wood ties are about nineteen inches apart. There 3,250 wooden ties per mile. It would require 26,000 spikes for each mile of track laid. That number multiplied by 1,939 miles comes to a staggering 50,414,000 spikes (some claim only a mere 30 million were used) required for the job. Just for the CPR mainline. Clearly the common railway spike is one of the most important artifacts ever made and used in Canadian nation-building.
Yet this very important artifact receives little recognition. There are a few exceptions, mind you. The last spike driven at Craigellachie by Donald Smith in 1885, should be famous. It represents the completion of a national dream. Made of gold or silver perhaps. But no, it was just plain iron. And there wasn’t just one, but four.
The first one, made of silver, never reached Craigellachie in time to be used. The second one was bent by Donal Smith, when trying to hammer it home, and kept, eventually made into jewelry. The third one was pulled and mysteriously disappeared and has only recently surfaced. And the fourth one is still in the tracks at Craigellachie.
What a mess. The first one doesn’t get there in time. Smith bends the second spike and makes it into jewelry. And the third one mysteriously disappears and is now a knife. How could you lose the last spike that symbolized one of the greatest engineering achievements of the time and the coming together of a nation?
We celebrate and revere the sensational, often at the expense of the common and mundane. Granted, the last spike, or the silver one on display, symbolize and solidify a great moment in Canadian history. But it’s not the only spike of significance in this story.
The above photo and the common spike in contrast to the silver one bring up an important point. There is always an alternate story or narrative about any given object. Like the photograph above we should also revere the common railway spike as it symbolizes the sweat, work and deaths of thousands of men who built the ribbon of steel. It represents men like my father and uncle, who maintained it after it was built. Their contribution are as important and meaningful as the completion of the railway and that silver spike.
Perhaps the best way to tell these stories is to display both the silver spike symbolizing one of Canada’s greatest accomplishments alongside the common railroad spike symbolizing the work of those who built it. As close to a solution to entertaining and informing as can be expected from this particular artifact.
Working on the Railroad
I’ll end on a personal note which also partially reveals my choice of content for this post. My father and uncle worked on the CPR for many years. As did my cousin and I. We lasted one summer on the ‘extra gangs.’ I have seen way too many railroad spikes up close on certain sections of the CPR mainline. One summer was more than enough, thank you.
Our family owns a last spike of sorts. In recognition of my father’s contribution to the CPR. He received this galvanized spike from a friend of mine when he retired from the CPR in 1983. This one was repurposed for an equally great cause. Perhaps it could serve as our national emblem.
This modified version of the common spike reminds me of dad. And my uncle. However, whenever I open a refreshment with it, I reflect back to much tougher times working between the rails. That story is still being written.
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A Few Blog Notes
I’ve been thinking of setting up a membership list for my website. I would divide my posts into those that are free to read and a ‘silver’ category, which only paid subscribers could access. Subscribers would be charged a fee of perhaps $20.00 CAN per year to access this category. It would contain all my short stories, novelettes, etc. My rationale is quite simple – to cover costs of running this website. I have no illusions about getting rich, but feel that paying to inform and entertain you just doesn’t seem right.
Lately more visitors from the rest of the world are checking my website. Those of you looking in from the USA (some of you whom I know), Ireland, Brazil, or any other country, let me know why you dropped into my site.
In the last few years the phrase ‘cultural appropriation‘ has popped up increasingly in just about every context imaginable. One definition of the phrase is: The unacknowledged or inappropriate adoption of the customs, practices, ideas, etc. of one people or society by members of another and typically more dominant people or society. Literature is no exception. Including mine. Many publishers are more cautious in what they publish. I think the two words I underlined in the definition are key. But they are widely interpreted. I’d like your opinions on the subject. Especially those of you who are of Indigenous background.
In my last post I used historic documentary records to search for lost early Euro-Canadian fur trade establishments in the remote, dense northern forests of Alberta, Canada. In this post I discuss other ways we might be able to find archaeological remains hidden beneath our feet.
Infrared Photography, Magnetometer Survey, Ground Penetrating Radar, LIDAR. Archaeologists use these non-invasive techniques to find archaeological remains hidden in remote parts of the world or where any archaeological surface evidence has been obscured by construction or other ground surface disturbance. Some methods work better than others in certain conditions. They, however, can also be misleading and potentially destructive if not used properly.
First Some Extreme Examples of Non-Invasive Search Methods
While most of the above techniques have merit, others are a little more far-fetched. In 1975 I attended my first CAA (Canadian Archaeological Association) Conference in Thunder Bay, Ontario. It was pretty cool meeting and listening to all these learned people so passionate about archaeology.
As the liquor flowed freely so were the more outlandish ideas on how to find archaeological sites without, you know, all that work (walking and stumbling around in the bush, digging endless test pits). At one of the evening receptions I noticed a bunch of people gathered around a table intently watching as two archaeologists were dangling a string with something attached to the end over the map.
I casually walked over, curious to see what they were doing. Maybe they were demonstrating some new archaeological technique that I should know about. What I saw however, surprised me. One of the archaeologist was dangling an arrowhead tied to a string over a map of southern Ontario, while the other was taking notes. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Dousing for archaeological sites or remains using an arrowhead on a string. Apparently the arrowhead would point to a place on the map suggesting archaeological remains were buried there.
Welcome to the world of some of the more outlandish methods ever used in archaeological detection, Heinz. You might have just hit an all time low. Wow! Could these learned people be serious? It seemed so. And some of those gathered around the table also seemed convinced this method might work.
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I should not have been surprised that people would use the paranormal in archaeology to help them in their investigations. Throughout the history of archaeology paranormal examples abound. Google it and you will see. Often referred to as psychic archaeology, or Psychometry, most of its claims are of a dubious nature.
In fact, it was earlier in 1974, while at my first archaeological dig at the HBC Fort Victoria, Alberta, that I was introduced to another somewhat unorthodox method of archaeological detection. Dowsing.
Dowsing (Divining, Witching) is a method whereby a person holds and forked branch or coat hangers and walks over the ground surface to detect features objects hidden beneath. Originally it was mainly used to find water (and still is) but is also applied to many other fields of detection. Including archaeology.
So we tried walking over the fort cellar depressions and palisade footer trenches holding two bent coat hangers. They were supposed to cross when you hit a buried feature. Some of the students believed it worked. Others did not. I was amongst the latter.
Even to this day, one of my colleagues (who shall remain anonymous) and I have had a 40-year debate about the merits of this technique. I’m a skeptic of any method not based in science. Others, like my colleague, are more liberal thinkers I guess. Apparently this method is supposed detect magnetic anomalies under the ground surface. That supposedly is the scientific connection. As you will read shortly not even sophisticated equipment capable of accurately measuring the earth’s magnetism are able to make that connection.
My strangest encounter (so far), while excavating at the last HBC Fort Edmonton, was with a woman who claimed, once she had held a piece of jewelry we found, it belonged to her distant relative who worked at the fort. We thanked her for her insights but did not pursue the matter any further. With this Psychometric method one holds an ancient artifact which will then send messages about its history. This method too has not gained much traction over the years among my colleagues. Nor among thieves.
Although I must admit the use of psychic archaeology is tempting when things are not going as they should in the field. My future wife and I, while at Fort Victoria in 1974, tried channeling (of sorts) one night. We tried calling up the ghost of the Clerk in charge of the fort, a Mr. Tait, I believe. We entered the old clerk’s quarters (built in 1864 and still standing on the site) at midnight. After a lot of shouting and pleading for answers we only managed to wake up a few people and totally scared ourselves in the process. I think there was liquor involved in that episode as well.
Metal Detecting. Night hawking, as it is often referred to which, as one archaeologist put it, has had a love-hate relationship with archaeology. Yes, you can find ferric objects with this method, if that’s all you wanted to find. Even major treasures as have been recently found in England with this method. And then you rip those objects out of the ground without any proper context or worse not even recording their location. Unless palisade and building walls are made of iron, finding major archaeological features with this equipment is also problematic.
Some Slightly More Refined Non-Invasive Search Techniques
Some non-invasive search methods have proven better than the aforementioned. But nearly all have their limitations which, if not recognized, could create more problems than solve.
When I search for historic archaeological sites, I observe the surface of the ground carefully when looking for either features on a site or the site. While some features, such as large depressions or mounds are pretty obvious, more subtle features still leave surface evidence even after hundreds of years. After clearing the vegetation off the Fort Vermilion I site, in some places the fort’s original palisade trenches were still evident on the ground surface. At Fort Edmonton, where the ground had been totally landscaped and scrubbed clean of any surface fort evidence, the north palisade was evident as a slightly depressed line where the grass grew better.
Not only does the ground continue to slump in these trenches, the soil chemistry and water regime may also change, affecting vegetation. I have seen shell middens representing prehistoric First Nations settlements on the Northwest Coast of Canada that are totally devoid of trees (in a rain forest) because both the soil chemistry and moisture regimes have changed.
Even normal aerial photography can produce some surprising results. For example, for years Parks Canada archaeologists could not find one of the missing Rocky Mountain House forts in central Alberta, Canada. Until one day, quite by accident, and luck, it appeared in a photograph.
The use of infrared and other types of photography sensitive to different wavelengths of light are also proving useful in archaeological discovery.
During the late 1970s while excavating at the NWC Fort George (c.1792-1800) archaeologists were testing a new non-invasive technique. Ground Penetrating Radar.
The earth is surrounded by varying amounts of magnetism. Physicists found that subsurface features, such as extensive burning, or buried materials, give off different rates of magnetism often associated with human activities. If such a technique proved effective, it could help detect features at an archaeological site, saving countless hours in searching with subsurface testing.
The method has proven moderately effective but the anomalies are sometimes very difficult to interpret and can be affected by modern intrusions giving off what we call false positives – an anomaly which turns out to be nothing or created by some modern intrusion.
While excavating Fort Edmonton V, we tried magnetometer survey, seismic testing, ground penetrating radar (GPR), and soil resistivity, to help find and better understand the subsurface archaeological remains. Some methods worked better than others.
GPR has its uses but is sometimes unreliable. Not only does it create false positives (finding little or nothing of consequence) but worse, false negatives (missing things of great consequence). Imagine if you will, using this method to detect all historic graves in an area, only to miss a few before the land is developed and built on. I have seen this method miss entire cellars big enough to hide a Volkswagon in. Whether the fault of the operator, or the method, caution must be taken. However, these methods are constantly improving, becoming more reliable for archaeological work.
…………………..
Light Imagery Detection and Ranging (LIDAR). This method was developed in the 1960s by the US Space Agency and then used in the Apollo 12 missions in 1971 to map the surface of the moon. The results were spectacular.
This method uses an optical remote sensing technique that can measure the distance to a target (in this case, the ground) by illuminating the target with light using pulses from a laser. It is sensitive enough to measure ground surface elevations even under dense forests. Here are a few examples of its use at archaeological sites and features having considerable vertical depth.
The problem with this technique, even today, is its cost. Presently in Canada there is little LIDAR coverage of the ground surface. Fortunately for us, Alberta Forestry Service had flown parts of northern Alberta with LIDAR, including the Fort Vermilion I area.
Here was an opportunity to test just how sensitive this method was in the thick northern boreal forests of Canada. We knew where the site was located. Also some of the surface features were fairly significant. They paled in comparison to the Mesoamerican settlements, but nevertheless this was an opportunity to carry out some controlled experimentation.
A Few Concluding Remarks
Inspiration for this post came when one of my readers casually asked about one of these non-invasive techniques. I replied that it was best not to get me started on that topic. Obviously, it got me started… I’ve had some good luck and some bad luck using these methods. And I firmly believe that with more experimentation and refinement they will become more reliable in the future.
We have come a long way from dangling an arrowhead over a map of Canada in hopes of finding archaeological remains. Or using coat hangers to dowse for buried archaeological remains. Some of the non-invasive search techniques are becoming more sophisticated and reliable, allowing us to detect archaeological history on a scale never imagined before.
But, occasionally I revert back to the old ways. I hoped for inspiration by sleeping in a tent on the old Fort Vermilion I site. Maybe I would receive a sign. To help me find things. And one night I received it when a pack of wolves accidentally walked onto the site sending off the most blood-curdling howling I have ever heard in my life. A message?
Beware the hazards of sleeping in remote places in Canada’s northern forests!
He was known as Koo-Koo-Sint (the man who looks at stars) by First Nations. David Thompson, trader, explorer, surveyor and mapmaker, became a highly renowned land geographer. Some say the best in the world. After studying his maps and how he managed to carry out his work, I tend to agree.
I’ve had the opportunity to apply Thompson’s work to furthering our history. In particular finding a few of the many fur trade posts in western Canada still lost in the wilderness. Or beneath our very noses.
This is my story of following in the shadows of these great ones. In this post I’ll focus on David Thompson. Perhaps in another post, Peter Fidler.
David Thompson
Born in Westminster, Middlesex, England, in 1770, to Welsh immigrants, Thompson joined the Hudson’s Bay Company at the age of 14. He studied surveying with the Company and was soon exploring uncharted territory in the Canadian Northwest. At age seventeen, he penetrated west as far as the present-day Calgary.
In 1798 Thompson joined the North West Company and devoted all his time mapping and exploring. He comes by his reputation as a great land surveyor and cartographer honestly. His maps were accurate, and his exploits covered over 80,000 kilometers by foot, horseback, or canoe. All previous maps of western America paled in comparison to his maps.
In 1804, David Thompson visited Fort Vermilion, then called LaFleur’s Post, by the North West Company. We know this from his daily journal. Here is an excerpt from his journal and arrival at the post. Good luck reading it. It may strain your eyes.
In Search of LaFleur’s Post (Fort Vermilion I)
Before 1998 Fort Vermilion was still lost in the northern Alberta wilderness. In 1968 John Nicks (Provincial Museum of Alberta) and Karlis Karklins (Parks Canada) searched for the post but did not find it.
In 1998 a few members of the community of Fort Vermilion asked me if I would try to find the first Fort Vermilion. It was important to them because 1998 marked its 200 birthday.
I accepted their invitation. I’d found Boyer’s Post a decade ago. A post which too had been swallowed up by the northern boreal forest and lost for 200 years. This I believed would be much easier than finding Boyer’s post whose location was only vaguely alluded to by the occasional passing explorer.
The search for these long forgotten places is often difficult. The first problem with the Fort Vermilion site was its remoteness. There were no roads near where we thought it might be, and the bush was dense along the lower terraces of the Peace River. Ground surface visibility was bad.
So, where was LaFleur’s post? Were there any records that talked about it? Did the Hudson’s Bay Company rebuild the post when the two companies amalgamated, or, did they move it in 1821?
The earliest known record of the location of LaFleur’s post comes from David Thompson’s 1804 journals. Thompson stated the post was on the left bank of the river 17 miles downriver from the mouth of the Keg River. Those seem like pretty good details until you begin to think about them a little more. For instance, what does left bank mean? As you travel upriver, or downriver? Thompson didn’t elaborate. And then, was the Keg River the same one as today’s Keg River? Finally, what did 17 miles downriver mean? Were those river miles, or, were those a direct line to the fort from the mouth of the Keg River?
There was no way of determining on which side of the river bank the fort was located from Thompson’s left bank remark. Best to check both banks. In fact Nicks and Karklins had already checked the east bank in the general vicinity, and found nothing. Then there was the Keg River. I assumed that the historic and present names were the same. The reason for this was that Thompson noted other important landmarks in his journals, such as Wolverine Point (Carcajou) which still exists today on the Peace River.
Next was the distance of 17 miles. I examined both Thompson’s journals and other documents and found that these were river miles. Thompson used river track surveys, where he took a compass bearing and a distance to a point in the river where it turned and then repeated it as he traveled on the river. But, how accurate were these readings?
“Co. N12 E1m NE3/4m”(David Thompson’s notebook,May 3, 1804, Fort Vermilion)
Whatever methods Thompson used, his maps for the period were very accurate.
When I saw Thompson’s North Saskatchewan River map I realized there might be a similar Peace River map, marking all the forts along it. I quickly found Thompson’s Peace River map published in his narrative (1916). Much to my dismay this is what it looked like.
At the Royal Alberta museum we had a full sized reproduction of David Thompson’s original ‘territories’ map, including the Peace River. When I looked at that map, this is what I saw.
And, low and behold, there was Fort Vermilion on the west bank roughly where Thompson described it in his journals.
The lesson to be learned from this was to always go back to the original documents whenever possible. One of the rules of doing history and dealing with historic documents.
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Next we needed a fine water craft to get near the location where we thought the fort might be located. Below is a photograph of the official research vessel, known locally as the Barge, owned and operated by Mike Mihaly, High Level Alberta.
In October, 1998, two-hundred years after it was built we (Al and Marilee Toews, Fort Vermilion, and Mike Mihaly, High Level, Alberta) anchored about 500 metres from where after an afternoon of walking and stumbling through the bush we eventually found the long lost Fort Vermilion I. It was truly a day to be remembered for everyone.
As I later reflected after examining Colin Campbell’s (clerk for the Hudson’s Bay Company) journals at Fort Vermilion, we were fortunate to have such an astute observer as David Thompson. Or this fort might still be lost to us. Campbell spent nearly ten years at Fort Vermilion, keeping a journal for most of those years. There is not a single entry that would help identify the location of this and other forts along the river.
A Few Final Comments on David Thompson’s Maps and Journals
I am always amazed and somewhat in awe of how one man, using very simple, rudimentary instruments could so accurately map the Canadian West. In a canoe undergoing tremendous hardships and obstacles. Surely he deserves more recognition than a five cent postage stamp. Even the Canadian loon gets more monetary recognition.
As it turned out Thompson’s latitude reckonings (obtained by measuring the angle of the sun to the horizon at midday, or taking angle of the north star to the horizon with a sextant) were 11 seconds, or 220 metres off for the location of Fort Vermilion I. His estimation of longitude at Fort Vermilion were over 35 kilometres off. Not surprising, since you needed extremely accurate watches (one set at mean Greenwich time and one set locally to estimate longitude accurately). It would be later when Captain James Cook circumnavigated the globe mapping it, that more accurate time-pieces were available, thus producing more accurate maps.
“…brass Sextant of ten inches radius, an achromatic Telescope of high power for observing the Satellites of Jupiter and other phenomena, one of the same construction for common use, Parallel glasses and quiksilver horizon for double altitudes; Compass, Thermometer, and other requisite instruments, which I was in the constant practice of using in clear weather for observations on the Sun , Moon, Planets and Stars…” (David Thompson)
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References
Thompson, David, 1916. David Thompson’s Narratives of His Explorations in Western America 1784 – 1812. The Champlain Society. Toronto.
Hello everyone. It’s been a while since I last posted here. However that does not mean I haven’t been writing. I have. Just to a different audience – my archeological colleagues. And when I tell you that I’ve been writing about how deep objects sink when stepped on, and what that means for the archeological record, I can already hear the sighs of relief. ‘Sure glad he didn’t share that gem with us.’
For me it doesn’t get much more exciting than that. At least during these Covid times when repeatedly stepping on marbles was the highlight of my day. In fact, when I carried out some of these experiments along the banks of the North Saskatchewan River near Devon, Alberta, this summer they drew a lot attention. As in, ‘What’s that weirdo doing?‘ People were obviously bored.
After explaining to one mother and her ten year old daughter, why I was stomping on marbles in a sandbox, the mom quickly whisked her daughter away, looking over her shoulder to make sure I wasn’t following. I guess I left quite an impression. That young girl will now have forever an image in her head of what an archaeologist looks like and does for a living. And it won’t be the Indiana Jones kind, but some old guy, with long white hair tied in a pony tail, trampling on marbles, then carefully recording those results. And that poor mother’s ‘Indi’ dream archaeologist was forever shattered as well.
There are times however when my profession is a little more exciting and the things we find are jaw droppers. One-of-a-kinds, such as this bone/ivory artifact found at the Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830) fur trade post in northern Alberta. We think it’s a toothbrush, perhaps one of the earliest ever to enter the province. This perfectly preserved object, with some of the bristles still intact at both ends, currently is the only one found in Alberta and I have only seen a fragment of one like it found at a NWT fort.
So what is an object like this doing at a frontier wilderness post in what was then the middle of nowhere (and in some respects still is)? My colleagues and I have been asking ourselves that question for some time now. Aside from idle speculation, we have few definitive answers. Dental hygiene was not at a very advanced stage at the turn of the 19th century anywhere in the world, let alone some Canadian frontier trading post. Especially among the lower income fort laborer’s.
Although the toothbrush was already invented in China sometime in the 7th – 8th century A. D. by the Dang Dynasty, it took a while for Europe to catch on.
Here’s what the toothbrush history experts have to say on the subject:
“At around 1780, the first toothbrush was made by William Addis of Clerkenald, England. Addis, and later, his descendants, manufactured the finest English brushes, where the handles were carved out of the bone of cattle and the heads of the natural bristles were placed in the bored holes made in the bone and kept in place by thin wire. The natural bristles were obtained from the necks and shoulders of swine, especially from pigs living in colder climates like Siberia and China.
By the early 1800s the bristled brushes were in general use in Europe and Japan. In 1857, H. N. Wadsworth was credited as the first American to receive a toothbrush patent as America entered the growing toothbrush market.” (https://mrs-o-c.com/computers/history/toothbrush/toothbrushHistory.htm
Here is sort of a similar-looking bone toothbrush from 1844:
It’s not as if this was a common artifact in western Canada. No. It was essentially a ‘one-off.’ And how did this rather pristine, still functional object end up in the fort midden pile? We can only speculate, but it seems reasonable to assume it belonged to a person who did not linger long at this ‘silvan abode in the woods.’ (A tongue-in-cheek quote from Alexander Ross, 1825, describing the rather decrepit looking Fort Assiniboine, Alberta) Or we would have found more like it.
Let me assure you this find is unusual and not normal fur trade archaeology. But then trampling on marbles isn’t either. Both however do make for a good story. In my next post I’ll speculate even more about this object with a short story of historical fiction. I wish I could share this post with that mother and child to help restore their image of archaeology. Too late for that though.
Until then, stay safe everyone.
In the meantime, in order to fight Covid, I’m going to brush my teeth with the new toothpaste I just acquired. If they had this toothpaste in the fur trade, we would have found a lot more toothbrushes: