In this blog, I will briefly describe the stories and projects I’m working on in 2025 and when you can expect to see them. Some of these stories are about to be released. Others are still in the working stage, and still others are just ideas rambling around in my head. Some of those ramblings may never see the light of day. I will update this post regularly to inform you what’s on the agenda.
I’m excited to see our book, Cartographic Poetry, finally reaching the bookstores. The folks at the University of Alberta Press are doing an admirable job putting this book together. The authors have worked on this project for many years and are happy to see it come to fruition.
I have received offers from publishers to publish two of my historical fiction manuscripts. Unless I get better offers from interested parties, I’ve decided to self-publish these stories because these offers made little economic sense.
I’m not aiming to get rich from publishing. But I don’t think I should lose money promoting my literature. I now know how farmers and artists must feel. They do all the work, take all the risks, use their considerable creative abilities, and then get paid little or nothing for their effort.
I realize it costs money to edit, illustrate, print, promote and market, and sell literature, but to give authors relatively little in return or expect them to fork out $5,000 – $10,000 upfront to prepare a book for sale, just does not seem like a good economic plan for me. Would my work benefit from professional copy editors, illustrators and marketing people? Certainly. But not at the prices they propose and the returns on my work I would get.
In short, by self-publishing, I bypass publishing houses and go directly to you, the customer. I’ll let you decide what you like or don’t like. If my work is any good, people will buy it. If not, then I’ll soon get the message. But at least I won’t be out of pocket thousands of dollars.
UPCOMING BOOKS
1. Cartographic Poetry. Examining Historic Blackfoot and Gros Ventre Maps. (University of Alberta Press. Release Date: May 1, 2025.)
Published by the University of Alberta Press, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. The release date and books are in stores by May 1, 2025.
Overview: History and Ethnohistory
“Poetry is language condensed; Siksika cartography is landscape distilled.”
Cartographic Poetry is the first book-length, multidisciplinary study of five maps drawn in 1801 and 1802 by several Blackfoot and Gros Ventre people for the Hudson’s Bay Company. Representing some of the oldest documents created by Indigenous people on the North American prairies and foothills, these maps preserve invaluable evidence about places on the landscape and historic Blackfoot views of their territories. Intended as navigational tools, the landforms and locations on the maps hold significance for the Blackfoot well beyond wayfinding and have for many centuries. Informed by a career-long fascination with this priceless archive, the Piikani Nation’s placenames project, and fieldwork efforts to align Indigenous places and present geography, Ted Binnema, François Lanoë, and Heinz W. Pyszczyk study the maps as ethnohistorical sources. Exploring their beauty and utility from historical, linguistic, and archeological perspectives, the authors analyze the maps, their placenames and features, and the tours and trips they may have supported, along with providing present-day photographs of many of the maps’ landforms. A final section of the book outlines how Indigenous maps contributed significantly to Western geographical knowledge and maps of North America from the 1500s onward. Cartographic Poetry will appeal to anthropologists, archaeologists, geographers, historians, cartographers of the Great Plains, and all readers interested in how Indigenous peoples perceived and navigated their territories in this early period of colonial encounter. With a Foreword by Jerry Potts Jr. and an Afterword by Dr. Eldon Yellowhorn.
2. Tales of the Canadian Fur Trade. A compilation of stories of historical fiction about Canada’s 18th and 19th century western frontier. (To be self-published. Release date: 2025.)
To be self-published. There is no set release date. Some stories appeared in CanEHdianstories.com and new ones have been added to this collection. There are a total of ten short stories and an introduction. The manuscript is ~117,000 words.
Overview: Historical Fiction
Tales of the Canadian Fur Trade is a compilation of ten stories of historical fiction about the 18th and 19th-century fur trade era in western Canada written by Heinz W. Pyszczyk. These works of fiction, however, are based on actual places, events, and historical figures set in the Canadian prairie provinces. As a historical archaeologist who has excavated at Fort Edmonton, Vermilion, and Dunvegan (and others) I have walked in places that Peter Pond, David Thompson, Alexander Mackenzie and Peter Fidler once frequented – and often found myself imagining what interesting lives they led. These men, who have left their mark on Canadian history, frequently had a more personal or lesser-known side to them. In the first two stories, Mr. Pond’s Finest Set of China, and Mr. Pond’s Most Magnificent Map I explore how the American, Peter Pond, known for his sometimes unpredictable, violent temper, and his considerable skills in cartography, finally manages to control his moods (or does he?) when dealing with his Canadian adversaries while in today’s northern Saskatchewan and Alberta. In We’ll Build Us a ‘Yole,’ the Hudson’s Bay Company trader and mapmaker Peter Fidler tackles the daunting transportation logistics of the fur trade, becoming one of the first men to build the York Boat at Buckingham House on the North Saskatchewan River during the 1790s. Considered a calm, quiet, intelligent man, in my story, I ask and explore the question: What if Peter had a more calculating, aggressive side lurking within him?
However, I also write about the histories of the lesser-known and documented 1st Nations and Métis men and women in the Canadian fur trade who did not write down their stories and histories. In Better Days Ahead, Elizabeth, the Métis wife of Clerk Colin Campbell at Fort Vermilion, uses her Native knowledge to save the fort inhabitants from certain starvation. In Pick Your Poison: Louis’ Peculiar Tobacco Pipe, I explore the life of a French-Canadian voyageur, Louis, at Fort Vermilion, whose peculiar tobacco pipe is the envy of his comrades – until it isn’t. The Canadian fur trade had a substantial negative impact on Indigenous life. Beware Those Bearing Gifts describes the initial move by the major fur trade Companies up the Peace River into the Fort Vermilion area in the 1780s and attempts to capture the turmoil, the potential violence and tension existing between the local Dunne-za and the first white traders entering the region. In the mid-19th century story, entitled, My Boy Twist, I chronicle the coming of the first missionaries to the central Peace River Region in northern Alberta, and the ensuing clash between traditional Native spiritualism and Christianity as our central character, a young Métis interpreter for the Hudson’s Bay Company by the name of ‘Twist’ negotiates a path riddled with conflict between both worlds.
I have for many years, through my writing and lectures, championed the idea that Canadian history contains objects (artifacts, food, buildings, etc.) that enable us to write about history with the object being a central part of the story. In each story there is one important object, be it a tobacco pipe, cattail, or York Boat, which drives the narrative and plot. In The‘Little Emperor’s’ Toothbrush, I conjecture that the Governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company, George Simpson who, while visiting Fort Vermilion in 1822, carries with him a rare bone toothbrush like the one found at Fort Vermilion and seems to find himself in a lot of trouble with the fort’s women. In The Trader’s Private Stock, trader Angus Shaw while at his North West Company post, Fort George (1792-1800) overlooking the North Saskatchewan River, is running short on alcohol and becomes overly suspicious that some of his men might be pilfering it, leading to the construction of a most unusual storage cellar beside his Big House. The Sampleman’s Gambit is about the newest styles and highly sought-after glass trade beads and how one young German businessman (known as a sampleman) attempted to entice the women of Fort Edmonton to buy his glass beads during the late 1840s. While all three stories contain a bit of ‘tongue in cheek’, they bring out some serious issues during the Canadian fur trade – excessive abuse of power by an elite fur trade officer class; excessive use of alcohol by the Companies to boost trade; and, excessive and ruthless competition for furs using the latest glass bead styles or other trade goods to encourage Indigenous populations to trade. Although each story is written to stand alone, the reader will note that the settings and characters of each story often overlap, giving us a slightly different perspective on the same place and character.
5. Archaeology Guide & Tour of Greater Edmonton Area: History Beneath Our Feet. (Likely self-published. No release date set.)
Overview: History and Archaeology
In 1992, I wrote the above booklet, published by the then Provincial Museum of Alberta, about Edmonton’s history and archaeology. I have always wanted to revise this booklet and turn it into something bigger. Since 1992 a substantial amount of archaeological research has been carried out in the Edmonton area. This book will explore both the prehistoric and historic periods in Edmonton. For example, on one of my walking tours, I visited the site of the last HBC Fort Edmonton, seen in the above photograph, and discuss both the history and archaeology of this site (which we excavated between 1992 and 1995). The Edmonton area also contains many prehistoric sites, some going back to the earliest period of Edmonton’s human history, known as the Early Prehistoric Period (c.7,800 – ~12,000 years). When I wrote this booklet, the greater Edmonton Area contained approximately 600 recorded archaeological sites. By now, I’m certain there are over 1,000 sites on record, some of which have added considerably to our knowledge of the City’s human history.
FUTURE BLOGS ON MY CANEHDIANSTORIES WEBSITE
1. A Chinook’s A’Comin. (Release date: ~April 1, 2025)
Overview: Archaeology and History
A Chinook is a warm, dry wind that blows off the eastern slopes of mountain ranges and reaches tremendous speeds as it flows over the plains. In various parts of the world, this wind is known as a Foehn (Germany), Zonda (Argentina), Berg (South Africa), and si’kssópoistsi (Blackfoot).
Chinooks are not entirely a Canadian phenomenon. They occur along the front range of the Rocky Mountains in Alberta, as far south as Colorado, and also in Washington State, blowing off the Cascade Mountains and Nevada (rolling down the east side of the Sierra Nevada Mountain range). However, parts of southern Alberta contain the most frequent and intense Chinooks in North America.
Hundreds of media stories have been written about Canada’s Prairie Chinooks. Few, however, delve into their history and how plants, animals and humans may have adapted to them or used them to their advantage.
2. Grinding and Pecking My Stone Maul: An Update. (Release date: 2025)
My recently pecked ground stone maul which took considerably less time and effort to complete than by grinding the groove.
Overview: Experimental Archaeology
Grooved stone mauls are a common prehistoric tool on the North American Great Plains. In Alberta, approximately 75% of all stone mauls are made from quartzite. Working on the assumption that quartzite was too hard to peck (and with some preliminary experiments) effectively, I decided first to try grinding a groove on the quartzite cobble. I accomplished this task, but only after considerable effort and work. I have written several blogs describing the grinding process on this website. I then decided to peck a groove and compare the results to the grinding experiment. The results indicate that it took considerably less time and effort to peck a groove in the quartzite cobble than to grind one. Along with my colleague, Bob Dawe, Royal Alberta Museum, we then examined the physical marks from both manufacturing methods microscopically and compared those attributes to a sample of Alberta quartzite mauls. The results indicate that all the Alberta mauls we examined show similar physical characteristics to the experimentally pecked maul. In short, it is far easier to peck a stone maul than to grind one.
Writing-On-Stone National Historic Site is located in southern Alberta, Canada, and contains one of Canada’s largest collections of First Nations Rock Art. The photograph on the right shows some petroglyph details on one of the many panels found on the sandstone cliffs overlooking the Milk River. Our Canadian heritage is recognized at the Municipal, Provincial, and National levels, and occasionally at the international level, as is the case with Writing-on-Stone. This unique, beautiful place has been designated a World UNESCO Heritage Site.
Canada has a rich and varied human and natural history spanning a considerable geographic and temporal range. We have spent a significant amount of time and energy protecting certain parts of that history that best portray who we are as a Nation.
The question then becomes: How and why do Canadians choose the places and stories to tell the world about our history? Is what we have chosen inclusive enough to represent our appreciable historic and cultural diversity?
The Canadian Government recognizes Canadian history through its designated National Historic Sites Program: “To be considered for designation, a place, a person or an event will have had a nationally significant impact on Canadian history or will illustrate a nationally important aspect of Canadian human history.”
This choice of places and their stories isn’t easy or entirely objective. Phrases such as ‘nationally significant impact on Canadian history’ or ‘illustrate a nationally important aspect of Canadian human history’, are open to interpretation. What is historically important and appealing to one person, group, or generation, may not necessarily be so for another. Political and ideological agendas occasionally interfere with the selection process as well.
Here’s an example, from Medicine Hat, Alberta, of how certain biases often get in the way of national recognition.
‘Nothing But A Human Sweatshop’: Medalta Potteries, Medicine Hat, Alberta, Canada
Like many industrial jobs, work in the Medalta Potteries was repetitious, boring and tiresome. The writing on a table in this photograph reads, “between the machine and conveyor line could WEAR THE SOLES OUT OF YOUR SHOES!“
Many of us working in the heritage profession realized in the 1970s the historic importance of Medalta Potteries. Constructed in 1916 and operating until 1954, this pottery factory was the first in western Canada to send products east of Ontario. Its pottery clays came from southeastern Alberta and Saskatchewan and were made into pottery, fired by the extensive natural gas reserves available in the Medicine Hat area.
The brick kilns at the Medalta Potteries site, Medicine Hat, Alberta, Canada. Designated a National Historic Site in 1985, recognition of this site’s historic importance was not without some controversy.
The Medalta industrial site met the criteria outlined in the Canadian Government’s recognition of National Historic Sites. However, some politically powerful individuals in the community felt that this part of Alberta’s history was better left untold. It was considered an example of ‘dark history’. Why promote and raise a place to Provincial or National Historic status where people laboured hard and were often paid poorly?
My first glimpse of the inside of one of the kilns at Medalta Potteries left me speechless. The entire inside of one of the kilns (not this one) had a thick layer of molten glass covering the brick from a past firing. The acoustics inside the kiln were eery, to say the least.
The story becomes even more perverse. Because of this political push-back, the Province was reluctant to acquire and preserve this site when the opportunity arose, which would have made it a Provincial Historic Site. 1 In 1985, however, the Medalta Potteries Site was designated a National Historic Site.
Recognition of a country’s history must be as all-inclusive as possible in the designation process. Some of that history may not be very ‘jolly’. For example, since we now have a negative attitude toward the coal industry (because of its adverse effects on our climate) should we ignore the important contribution the coal industry made to Nation-building?
Human history is not always pretty. Some years ago I took my family to visit the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in Germany. Now talk about ‘dark history’. But the Germans, to their credit, turned it into a historic site so that no one would ever forget the atrocities toward humanity carried out during that era. 2
What histories and stories are we missing in Alberta, or the rest of Canada, that might be considered Nationally significant? In the table below I have listed the number and percent of registered National Historic Sites in Alberta, according to ethnic affiliation. It is readily apparent, despite a long Indigenous history in Alberta, far surpassing more recent colonization, that the number of registered National Historic Sites affiliated with Indigenous history is low. Needless to say, the representation of our other minorities is almost zero. 3
Table 1. National Historic Sites, Alberta
Ethnic Affiliation
National Historic Sites
Percent
First Nations
8
13
Metis
1
2
Euro-Canadian
51
83
Natural
1
2
When these same National Historic Sites are broken down according to regions in Alberta, there is a strong bias towards the central and southern parts of the province. Does this mean that little of national significance happened in northern Alberta? By the looks of these numbers, it seems so.
Table 2. National Historic Sites, to Region, Alberta
Region
National Historic Sites
Percent
North
5
8
Central – South
56
92
Below are several places in northern Alberta that I feel should be considered for National Historic recognition. I focus on this part of Canada which is the most familiar to me. You can go online and view the National Historic Sites listed in your province or country. Perhaps there are some places, like Methy Portage in Saskatchewan (also not on the National Registry), that should be on that list.
1. Peter Pond’s Fur Trade Post (c.1778-1788)
In 1778, American Peter Pond crossed Methye Portage, considered to be one of the most important Canadian fur trade overland routes, and entered the Athabasca drainage. Pond was the first White explorer/trader to enter the Athabasca region in Alberta. His map was the first to reveal parts of the geography of northern Canada. Some historians believe his explorations strongly influenced Alexander Mackenzie’s decision to explore rivers further north (Mackenzie River) and west (Peace River) to find an overland route to the Pacific Ocean.
A map of western North America, c.1783, by explorer Peter Pond. On it, he shows the Peace River (River of Peace) leading to the west coast and the Mackenzie River leading to the Arctic Ocean.
In 1778 Pond established the earliest fur trade post in Alberta along the Athabasca River below Lake Athabasca. Parts of the post are still intact, but instead of being recognized as a National Historic Site, it will soon become a ‘National Historic Disaster’ as it erodes into the Athabasca River. 4 Pond’s early exploits opened the richest fur trade region in North America filling the coffers of North American and European fur trade companies.
In 1788 the Montreal-based North West Company (NWC) sent Charles Boyer to build a fort near the confluence of today’s Boyer River and Peace River, about five kilometres downstream from the present community of Fort Vermilion, Alberta. Boyer’s Post was the first fort built along the Peace River and is considered by the Fort Vermilion residents to represent the beginning of continuous Euro-Canadian settlement in the area. Later, the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC) followed with Thomas Swain building Mansfield House in 1802. Then Simon Fraser of the NWC returned after the company abandoned the original Boyer River Post in 1792, to construct Fort Liard in 1802. The XY Company also built a fort nearby sometime in 1802. 5
An areal view of the confluence of the Boyer (originally called the Paddle River) and Peace Rivers where no fewer than four fur trade forts were established between 1792 – 1804, marking the first permanent forts on the Peace River and one of the first permanent Euro-Canadian settlements in Alberta (Fort Chipewyan, also established in 1788, being the other one). Fort Liard, established by Simon Fraser for the North West Company, represented the beginning of his journey down the Peace River into British Columbia and eventually taking the Fraser River to the Pacific Ocean in 1808.
While the HBC c.1830 Fort Vermilion is a designated National Historic Site, it is so for the wrong reasons. According to the National Registry, this site supposedly marks one of the first permanent settlements in Alberta – a label that more appropriately belongs to the Boyer River fur trade sites located further downriver. This fort sits across the river from these earlier posts in the present community of Fort Vermilion. It is marked by the still-standing stately Old Bay House (shown on the cover of this website).
Archaeological investigations in 2018 at the 1788-1804 Boyer River fur trade site(s), the first post erected along the Peace River. In their quest to monopolize the Peace River fur trade, the North West, Hudson’s Bay, and XY Companies rapidly moved up one of Canada’s largest rivers to establish a series of posts which eventually reached the Rocky Mountains and beyond. I found the post in 1987 and conducted preliminary investigations in 1988, only to return forty years later with a larger crew from the University of Lethbridge to more thoroughly excavate it.
The Boyer River fur trade sites are also of national historical importance because it was here that some of the most intense, brutal competition between the three companies in the northern fur trade took place, much to the detriment of First Nations trading there. If the toxic whiskey trade in southern Alberta, with the coming of American pedlars in 1869, was emblematic of the poor Indigenous-White relations in southern Alberta, then this area is its equal in the north. It also marks where Simon Fraser first built his fort and traded on the Peace River and eventually reached the Pacific Ocean, via the Fraser River in 1808.
3. The ‘Chutes’ (Vermilion Falls)
The Vermilion Falls or ‘Chutes’, located downstream from the present community of Fort Vermilion, Alberta, Canada were a formidable barrier for Canada’s first explorers and traders entering the Peace River drainage system during the 1780s. They are the widest falls in Canada and second only to Niagara Falls in average water flow rate. Photographs courtesy of Mother Earth Book (https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=376087137918447&set=pcb.376088537918307)
Key inland fur trade routes into the Canadian Northwest followed major rivers and lakes. But the journey from Hudson Bay or eastern Canada to the inland forts was not always ‘smooth sailing’. Along northern Alberta’s Peace River, Vermilion Falls, or the ‘Chutes’, was one of the most formidable obstacles and important portaging routes (located approximately sixty-five kilometres below Fort Vermilion, Alberta).
Men hauling scows along the Vermilion Falls – the work was a gruelling, back-breaking, and dangerous undertaking. The date of the photograph is unknown.
The Chutes are the second largest waterfall in Canada by average flow rate (second to only Niagara Falls), and the widest falls in Canada (stretching approximately 1.8km across at the widest point). They were a formidable navigation obstacle, especially during low water, as shown in the photograph below. This scow took the wrong route and ended up on the falls’ rocks.
Scow in trouble at the Vermilion Chutes. The date of the photograph is unknown.
According to some residents, parts of the portage trail along the river’s southern shore are still visible. The physical heritage potential along this eight-kilometre stretch of river has yet to be determined.
4. Northern Metis Places
Recognition of the importance of the Metis people in Canadian history is scanty. Although northern Alberta has had a considerable Metis population for over two hundred years, not one place has been considered for National Historic designation. Here are two locations that deserve more than a passing note:
Carcajou (Wolverine Point)
Located approximately 170km north of Peace River, Alberta, Wolverine Point is shown on David Thompson’s 1814 map of the Canadian Northwest. The initial date of settlement is uncertain, but it could turn out to be one of the oldest Metis settlements in Alberta.
A portion of David Thompson’s original 1814 map of the Peace River in the Fort Vermilion-LaCrete area. The arrows point to Wolverine Point (Carcajou) and Simon Fraser’s NWC Fort Liard near the Boyer River.
“It was a small settlement of Indians and half-breeds. Few cattle and horses produce feed from the prairies nearby. Hunting and trapping is their chief source of income. Nine houses, three stables, a barn, four gardens, two storehouses (one-HBC), a Roman Catholic church, and graveyard.” (Keg River History Book Committee 1994).
When we visited the site in 2016, it still contained well-preserved standing log structures dating back to the late 19th century. Because of little research, its heritage potential has yet to be fully explored.
One of the still-standing log buildings at Carcajou shows the dove-tailed notched corners in what is referred to as ‘massed log construction technique’. The photograph on the right shows a close-up view of the building’s corner construction. But if you look more carefully, you will notice a series of circles and dots etched into each log, likely made with a wood auger. The function of these marks is uncertain. However, the lowest log contains eleven of them, the one above it, has ten, and the one above it has nine circles. These logs may have been numbered so that the building could be disassembled, moved, and then reassembled elsewhere.
Buttertown, Fort Vermilion, Alberta
This old river lot settlement is located on the north banks of the Peace River across from Fort Vermilion, Alberta. Metis freemen settled across from the fort sometime after it was built in 1830. They supplied the Hudson’s Bay Company with provisions and labour. Like Victoria Settlement (south of Smoky Lake, Alberta, which is a National Historic Site) the historic narrow river lot system is still visible, also containing some late 19th – early 20th century log buildings.
North Vermilion Settlement, or Buttertown, is located across the Peace River from the present community of Fort Vermilion, Alberta, Canada. The river lot settlement system, where narrow strips of land stretched to the river’s edge, was a Canadian method of land division ensuring every owner had access to the river. It was first used in Quebec and adopted across the Canadian prairie provinces. Many of these river lots became contentious issues of land ownership when the Dominion of Canada tried to integrate them into its legal land survey system during the early 1880s. To avoid further conflict, many of them were left out of the new land surveys.
The iconic St. Louis Catholic Church (River Lot 4), built in 1906-1909, still stands in North Vermilion.
5. No National Historic Recognition for Canadian Farming in Alberta – Seriously?
Herman Trelle, known as ‘THE GRAIN KING OF THE PEACE COUNTRY‘, shown here in c.1926 in his grainfield in the Grande Prairie Region, won eighteen world championships for wheat, oats, peas, rye, flax and timothy seed at the Chicago International Hay and Grain Show during the 1920s and 30s. Photograph, courtesy of GRAINS WEST (https://grainswest.com/2021/11/the-grain-king-of-the-peace-country/)
Can you believe that there isn’t one farm or homestead on our list of Alberta National Historic Sites? If we consider the importance of agriculture at a national level, the history of farming on the western prairies should be on top of the list. 6 As Trelle’s story above confirms, farming in Alberta, including northern Alberta’s Peace Country, produced some world-class crops. And this folks was accomplished at latitude 56 degrees north. 7
The story is much the same even further north in the Fort Vermilion/High Level area (farming at 58 degrees north, a rare occurrence of agriculture found anywhere else in the world). The area produced vegetables and grains during the late 18th century when the fur trade arrived. In 1907, F. S. Lawrence established the first experimental farm at Fort Vermilion, bringing seeds and plants from eastern Canada.
“…nearly every kind of vegetable including asparagus, corn and tomatoes as well as the hardier kinds […] The cereal and the leguminous plants are the finest I ever saw; in fact anything that can be made to grow at all in the north reaches a greater perfection here than elsewhere.” (Hulbert Footner (1911 Journey) Outing Publishing Company, 1912 [first edition])
Produce grown at the Sheridan Lawrence Experimental Farm operated on Robert Jones’ farm approximately eight kilometres upriver from the present community of Fort Vermilion. Despite the shorter frost-free growing season this far north, many crops flourished because there were longer days than in the south. Photograph, courtesy of ElectricCanadian.com (https://www.electriccanadian.com/history/alberta/peace_river.htm)
In 1934, after a major flood, the experimental farm was relocated to higher ground just west of the present community of Fort Vermilion. That farm, still replete with standing buildings from that era, and now operated by the Mackenzie Applied Research Association (MARA), continues experimenting with various grain, cover, and forage crops. Over the years the farm even produced special varieties of Alfalfa (Peace Alfalfa) and Flax (Nor-Alta flax) better adapted to Canada’s northern climate.
This is a photograph of the original Sheridan Lawrence farm located just west of the bridge across the Peace River near Fort Vermilion. To my knowledge, no one has ever examined the site to see what might still be preserved. But because of its location on the lower flood plain of the Peace River, numerous floods over the years may have covered it with silts creating a rich, well-preserved archaeological record representing this important piece of northern history.
“I remember saying, ‘there’s no way you can farm this far north. It’s too cold. Too wet. Too hard,” (Mick Watson, Farmer, High Level, Alberta)
In 2015 I was tasked with creating an exhibit about northern agriculture for our new Royal Alberta Museum. On one of our archaeological projects, I met Wason, a retired farmer from the High Level area. Mick, despite his concerns about farming this far north, still managed to produce some award-winning grains at the Royal Agricultural Winter Fair in Toronto in the 1950s.
Either the original or more recent Fort Vermilion Experimental Farm (or both) warrant National Historic recognition for their outstanding contribution to agriculture in Canada.
The late Mick Watson hard at work at the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I site, in 2000. During this and numerous other times, Mick shared his stories with me about what homesteading and farming were like in the 1950s when he entered the northern Peace River Country. His stories resonated deeply with me and brought back many memories of my family’s farming experiences in southern Saskatchewan during the 1950s after immigrating to Canada from Germany. They inspired me to produce an exhibit on northern farming for our new Royal Alberta Museum.
You Have the Power
Recognition of places, people, or events that represent Canadian history is a difficult, often daunting task. The selection process does not always operate on a level playing field. Some peoples’ and places’ histories often go unrecognized. And to some extent, historic recognition is a moving target, as our attitudes and knowledge about our past change and as we continue to add more layers to our already fascinating Canadian history.
These are just a few historic places in Alberta that should be considered for the National Historic Sites designation. I’m sure more hidden gems wait to be discovered in this Province and Country. Perhaps you have one to share with all Canadians. 8
Footnotes:
Only those sites owned by the Government of Alberta and run as functioning historic sites or museums are designated Provincial Historic Sites. Because the Provincial Government never bought the site it is not a designated Provincial Historic Site.[↩]
I still vividly remember meeting with members of the Lac La Biche community in the 1980s, many of who were of Indigenous descent. Some members were rather angry and couldn’t understand why we were investing resources in the preservation of the Catholic Mission and church founded by the Oblates of Mary Immaculate – a place that they still remember as a residential school bringing back very dark memories. We responded by saying that this was their opportunity to tell their stories of what this place was really like. Today the mission is a National and Provincial Historic Site.[↩]
In fact, the last time I checked the list it was zero. There isn’t one National Historic Site listed that represents our other ethnic minorities in the province.[↩]
Equally problematic are a few registered National sites which may no longer exist. Fort Fork, for example, located just upriver from the present city of Peace River, Alberta, is now mostly destroyed by river erosion. It was designated a National Historic site because Alexander Mackenzie launched his journey to the Pacific Ocean from this post[↩]
Not a single XY Company fort has been excavated or received National recognition. This company was an off-shoot of the North West Company operating from c.1798-1804. It was formed by disgruntled NWC men, including Alexander Mackenzie.[↩]
In Saskatchewan the Motherwell Homestead, east of Regina, is on the National Historic Sites list. The original buildings of the Motherwell farm are of outstanding quality as are the well-defined original fields. This brings up one major obstacle often missing when searching for historic farms to designate – a site’s ‘defining features’ or ‘character-defining elements’. Of the thousands of farmsteads scattered across western Canada, how many are still intact from their beginning days? There are few if any physical ‘character-defining features’ left, greatly diminishing their chances of being designated as National Historic Sites.[↩]
If Trelle’s farmstead is still intact, it should receive some consideration for National designation.[↩]
To my Canadian readers, the selection process is not out of your hands. You can go online and nominate a place, person, or event you consider worthy of National Historic recognition.[↩]
The once proud and famous Hudson’s Bay Comany Fort Edmonton V (c.1830 – 1915), one of the largest fur trade establishments in the Canadian Northwest, sits dwarfed by the New Alberta Legislature building, as Alberta moves onto a new era, c.1912. 1
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.
Removing the sod layer at the Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Victoria in 1974. Beneath the sod, we found the archaeological remains of the fort trading store, which after over a hundred years, still contained the foundation logs and well-preserved cellar 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.
A painting of the Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Edmonton V (c.1830 – 1915) by artist Paul Kane, 1849-56. 2
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.
Trader Colin Fraser, in his warehouse, examining his lot of furs worth an estimated $35,000 – a huge sum of money in the 19th century. As the Hudson’s Bay Company 1826 fur returns show, both the Athabasca and Saskatchewan Districts, mostly located in today’s Alberta, had among the highest numbers of beaver pelts in the entire Canadian Northwest. 3
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)
The majority of fur trade posts were located in central and northern Alberta, built by the various fur trade Companies operating from eastern Canada or England. The ‘Whiskey’ posts listed here are a later nineteenth-century addition to the trade, located mainly in southern Alberta and operated primarily by American pedlars.
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.
Graph showing the number of fur trade posts whose location is known and those that have not been found. Only approximately seven percent of these forts have been excavated.
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.
Students from the University of Lethbridge searched through the dense bush for evidence of the 1788 North West Company’s Boyer’s Post in 2018. Only a vague description of the location of the post existed – it was built near the confluence of the Boyer and Peace Rivers.With new technologies, we are now able to find archaeological sites hidden in the dense boreal forest more easily. LIDAR (Light Detection and Ranging) imagery strips the vegetation from the surface and then maps the surface contours with a high degree of accuracy. Above is an example of LIDAR imagery, an optical remote sensing technology that can measure the distance, or other properties of a target by illuminating the target with light often using pulses from a laser. Not only did LIDAR reveal the large cellar depressions at Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830) marked by the upper two circles, but a large depression of an unknown site marked by the lower circle.
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.
If you enjoy learning about the archaeology of the Alberta fur trade, explore the human side of the era in my new fiction collection, Tales of the Canadian Fur Trade. Available now as an ebook and a print-on-demand paperback.
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 layout of Fort George is based on archaeological evidence. There are only five references to fort construction in clerk, Duncan McGillivray’s 1794-95 journal, the only surviving document from this late 18th century Fortes des Prairie.
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.
Artifacts from Fort Vermilion I (c.1798-1830) were repurposed from metal and made into ornaments to suit the needs of Indigenous people living at the fur trade posts: A. Copper Tinkling cones to adorn jingle dresses; B and C. Silver tags (to adorn dress as in illustration D) cut from a larger piece of trade silver; D. A leather Dene dress adorned with metal tags made from scrap metal 5
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.
Faunal remains from the North West Company Fort George, Alberta. This fort, while primarily there to acquire furs, was essentially a meat factory, processing tens of thousands of pounds of meat necessary to supply the fur trade brigades on the journeys from the east into the Canadian interior. The photograph on the left shows butchered bone remains thrown up against the south palisade of the fort. Bone debris fills an old building cellar in the photograph on the right.
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.[↩]
“People wish their enemies dead—but I do not; I say give them the gout, give them the stone!” (Thomas Sydenham, 1683)
OUCH!
It happened at the tender age of 61. In June 2013, at about 4:00 A.M., in a small hotel in Nordegg, Alberta, Canada. I suddenly awoke feeling the most excruciating pain I have ever experienced in the left toe joint. It was as if someone had taken a sledgehammer and smashed it down on my big toe. Every time the bed cover brushed against my toe, I almost hit the ceiling.
I was bewildered by what was happening. I finally did some reading and realized what was ailing me. These four letters stared back at me:
GOUT
This is my story of battling gout over the last ten years. Why do I write about it here, even though countless articles have been written about it? Because if I can help at least one person avoid or even alleviate the pain of this form of inflammatory arthritis, by telling my story of what measures I took to battle it, then writing this blog is well worth the effort.
A swollen toe from gout. Not a pretty sight. But even uglier on the inside. 2gNEDw&biw=1083&bih=504&dpr=1.22#imgrc=TPT7MxD4ERa3KM))
What is Gout?
Gout is a type of inflammatory arthritis that causes pain and swelling of the joints. In my case, it usually occurs in the big toe joint and occasionally in my ankles. Flareups can last for a week or two. Any longer and there would be a lot more suicides.
Gout is caused when high levels of serum urate build up in the body. If your kidneys do not flush these urates out then in some people they form needle-shaped crystals in and around the joint. Many people, however, have high levels of serum urate but never get gout.
Gout is a worldwide phenomenon. An estimated one million Canadians get it. And more men (about 4%) than women (about 1%) get gout. It is more common in older people. The highest prevalence of gout worldwide occurs in Taiwanese Aboriginals and Maori people. In these populations more than 10% have gout. Gout is rare in former Soviet Union regions, Guatemala, Iran, Malaysia, the Philippines, Saudi Arabia, rural Turkey and African countries. 3
What Causes Gout?
Purines 4 are the enemy. They are found in your body’s tissues and in many foods. When they break down, they become urate. Normally, urate is removed from your body in urine. However, if too little urate is removed, it builds up in your blood. And eventually, these needle-shaped crystals form in your joints, causing inflammation or gout flares that cause pain and swelling.
The risk factors behind gout are complex and not always under our control. They include hyperuricemia, 6 genetics, dietary factors, medications, comorbidities, 7 and exposure to lead.
How I Battled Gout
When I had the first few gout ‘attacks’, I went to my doctor for help like most people. He recommended Colchicine, one of a number of drugs used to treat gout. Whenever I felt an attack coming on I took these pills which seemed to help but like many drugs, there were side effects.
Eventually, after some research, instead of just waiting for the next attack and then popping more pills, I decided to change three things in my diet that might help prevent or at least reduce the severity of gout attacks: 1) reduced intake of foods high in purines; 2) increased intake in foods containing vitamin C; and, 3) increase in foods with natural probiotics and probiotic supplements.
1. Foods High in Purines
Some foods are high in purines and should be avoided if you are suffering from gout. 8 Even some vegetables such as dried beans, peas, and lentils are high in purines.
I can live without or eat these foods in moderation. Yes, I like my seafood, steaks, or headcheese. But I don’t necessarily need them. Eating them occasionally doesn’t seem to be a problem.
But, I happen to really like beer and the occasional bottle of wine. And alcohol is high in purines. All alcohol — including beer, wine, and hard spirits — affect processes in the kidneys that in turn impact how uric acid is eliminated in urine. They substantially increase blood uric acid levels.
How do the different types of alcoholic beverages rate in terms of purine content? Wine and spirits have the lowest purine content. Beers contain the highest amount of purines. But not all beers are equal. According to some research, British beer, home-brewed beer, and lager beer each contain many different types of purines, such as adenine, hypoxanthine, adenosine, and guanosine. Japanese beer contains greater amounts of purines than other types of beer. 9
“Among the different types of alcohol, the strongest association to risk of gout is that of beer, followed by spirits, according to more recent literature. In a widely accepted study by Choi et al. wine was not associated with an increased risk of gout.” 10
After reading about purines in alcohol, I changed tactics. No, I didn’t become a teetotaler. Instead, I dropped my regular consumption of all beers, although occasionally I still drink some. I drank more spirits and wine.
I also drink considerable amounts of carbonated water daily with a chunk of lemon and lime in it. Water is thought to flush out uric acid in our bodies. Lemon and lime are high in Vitamin C.
2. Increased Intake of Vitamin C
Any foods high in Vitamin C lower uric acid levels in our bodies. Grapefruit, oranges, lemons, limes, pineapples, and strawberries are all great sources of Vitamin C.
I try to eat some of these foods every day, especially oranges, lemons and limes (in my carbonated water). I also take Vitamin C supplements every day. However, if you read the literature, the verdict is still out on whether Vitamin C helps reduce uric acid and therefore reduces or prevents gout attacks. 11 And according to some studies: “Fructose-rich fruit juices (especially orange juice) and sweet fruits (e.g. oranges or sweet apples) should be particularly avoided.”12 These fruits and juices raise SUA 13 levels.
3. Increased Intake of Probiotics
Lastly, I increased my intake of probiotics found in natural foods and taken as supplements. Probiotics are live microorganisms found in yogurt and other fermented foods. Fermented foods are a type of food that is preserved with the help of these microorganisms. Foods high in probiotics include yogurt, kefir, kombucha, sauerkraut, pickles, miso, tempeh, kimchi, sourdough bread and some cheeses.
Probiotics influence how purine is absorbed by the body. This in turn helps reduce inflammation. 14
I regularly eat yogurt, sourdough bread and occasionally kimchi, sauerkraut, miso and pickles. And I take probiotic supplements every day. There’s a mind-boggling number of probiotic supplement brands to choose from. However, most research suggests that probiotics derived from natural fermented foods are the most effective.
My Results
After changing my diet in these three basic ways for two years, I have suffered no major gout attacks and only several minor flareups. After what I’ve experienced before changing my dietary intake, I consider this a large victory.
I don’t know which of the three changes helped. If it was only one or a combination of all three? I care only about the outcome. I’m virtually gout-free. Nor can I say with any certainty that some other factor, than these, was responsible for the reduction in gout attacks. I can’t think of any. But, it seems highly coincidental that as soon as I did these three things, my gout attacks decreased and then virtually disappeared.
Are my remedies to get rid of gout for you? I don’t know. We’re all different and what works for me may not for others. But, one thing I would strongly advise. If you’re suffering from this terrible malady, don’t just sit there and do nothing. Read about the subject. Educate yourself. Experiment with foods and safe products. Get professional advice. Sitting there, waiting for the inevitable, and then popping pills will rarely change things.
The literature on gout is enormous. Often you will find contradictions. That’s the nature of research. For example, my orange-a-day intake supposedly raises SUA levels (a no-no) but adds Vitamin C (a good thing). Trial and error is the only way forward.
Here is a recent 2022 update on the latest research about gout and gout-related issues. It is science-based and cites the most recent research about gout. It ends with ten basic recommendations to battle gout. If you’re suffering from gout, it is well worth reading:
Judith Sautner, Gabriela Eichbauer-Sturm, Johann Gruber, Raimund Lunzer, Rudolf Johannes. 2022. 2022 update of the Austrian Society of Rheumatology and Rehabilitation nutrition and lifestyle recommendations for patients with gout and hyperuricemia. In Wien Klin Wochenschr (2022) 134:546–554. Puchnehttps://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s00508-022-02054-7
According to the Sautner et. al 2022 study cited above, these are the ten basic recommendations to deal with gout.
Gout is an ancient disease as witnessed by the many poems and words of wisdom, or gloom, written about it for centuries. I’ll leave you with one of many I believe sums up how to deal with this dreadful ‘Hell on Earth:
“Be persuaded, then, of one invaluable truth: even if you begin to weary of Gout’s society, the only safe way of dismissing him is by allowing him to dismiss himself. Inscribe in letters of gold on the cornice of your chamber, “Gout is the only cure for Gout.” You may turn yourself inside out, like a glove, with purgatives; you may deaden your nerves with quack narcotics, without advancing a step in the right direction.” Charles Dickens, 1858 15
From HPC Live Network, Mark L. Fuerst. 2015. How Common is Gaut in the United States, Really? https://www.hcplive.com/view/how-common-gout-united-states-really[↩]
a colourless crystalline compound with basic properties, forming uric acid on oxidation[↩]
Hyperuricemia is an elevated uric acid level in the blood. This elevated level is the result of increased production, decreased excretion of uric acid, or a combination of both processes.[↩]
Comorbidity occurs when a person has more than one disease or condition at the same time. Conditions described as comorbidities are often chronic or long-term conditions.[↩]
Sugary drinks and sweets; high fructose corn syrup; alcohol; organ meats; game meats; certain seafood, including herring, scallops, mussels, codfish, tuna, trout and haddock; red meats, including beef, lamb pork and bacon; turkey.[↩]
Gibson, T, A. V. Rogers, H. A. Simmonds, P. Toseland. 1984. Beer Drinking and Its Effect on Uric Acid. Rheumatology 23:203-09.[↩]
From Judith Sautner, Gabriela Eichbauer-Sturm, Johann Gruber, Raimund Lunzer, Rudolf Johannes. 2022. 2022 update of the Austrian Society of Rheumatology and Rehabilitation nutrition and lifestyle recommendations for patients with gout and hyperuricemia. In Wien Klin Wochenschr (2022) 134:546–554. [Puchnehttps://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s00508-022-02054-7][↩]
Ayoub-Charette S, Liu Q, Khan TA, et al. Important food sources of fructose-containing sugars and incident gout: a systematic review and meta-analysis of prospective cohort studies. BMJ Open. 2019;9(5):e24171.
Ebrahimpour-Koujan S, Saneei P, Larijani B, Esmaillzadeh A. Consumption of sugar-sweetened beverages and dietary fructose in relation to risk of gout and hyperuricemia: a systematic review and meta-analysis. Crit Rev Food Sci Nutr. 2020;60(1):1–1.[↩]
The effectiveness of probiotics to reduce gout attacks is no longer merely anecdotal. It’s science-based. For more information about the subject, read this article: Rodríguez JM, Garranzo M, Segura J, et al. 2023. A randomized pilot trial assessing the reduction of gout episodes in hyperuricemic patients by oral administration of Ligilactobacillus salivarius CECT 30632, a strain with the ability to degrade purines. Front Microbiol. 2023;14:1111652. https://www.hcplive.com/view/probiotic-linked-reduced-gout-episodes-need-treatment[↩]
Good Qualities of Gout. In All the Year Round: A Weekly Journal, conducted by Charles Dickens, 1859 May 28th.[↩]
(A rather appropriate quote about work and effort)
(Well, I’m back. It’s time to update the progress on my maul. My fingers are still intact. But a lot stiffer, sorer, and callused. I have now spent thirty hours grinding my stone maul to make the groove. Here’s what it looked like before I started.)
The unmodified quartzite cobble I chose to make my grooved stone maul, May 2021. Quartzite is a common rock in Alberta, Canada. It is a metamorphosed sandstone that attains an incredible hardness. Seven, or over, on the Mohs hardness, scale. Equivalent to the hardness of a steel knife. Diamond has a Mohs hardness of ten. And, quartzite cobbles often come in round or oval shapes which are natural shapes for stone mauls. This cobble, before being modified, weighed 1,380 grams (1.38 kilos or 3 pounds).
A Brief Recap First
I started this project in May 2021. And I’m not half finished. I started it because I like experimental archaeology – an offshoot of archaeology involving replicating activities, or objects made in the past which are often poorly recorded and understood. As archaeologists, we gain better insight into the process and techniques required to make an object. Such as this stone maul, for example.
A granite stone maul found in Saskatchewan, Canada. A few terms to keep in mind before I continue with this blog. Each end, divided by the groove, is called a poll. The distal poll is the working end of the maul. If the maul is a three-quarter maul (where the bottom is not grooved) such as this one, then the portion not grooved becomes the bottom of the maul. The wood hafting bends around the groove and comes together at this point on the maul to form the handle. This maul was likely pecked with a hard hammer (both to shape it and make the groove); not ground, as the grooved surface is quite rough. You can peck granite, but not quartzite very well, if at all.
As I mentioned before in my previous blogs there are few historical or ethnographic accounts describing stone tool technology. Even fewer on making ground stone mauls. And still fewer yet, if any, of making them out of quartzite in western North America. I chose quartzite because: 1) it’s the hardest and most durable rock we have in Alberta, Canada; and, 2) most of our prehistoric stone mauls in Alberta are made from quartzite.
Now, why would people choose such a tough material to make their stone mauls? Why go through all that trouble if a simple stone cobble held in one’s hand would probably do the same job pounding meat, grains, or berries? 1 These are only a few of the questions I asked myself as I was making this grooved stone maul.
So, I started by trying to peck the quartzite cobble with a smaller stone cobble (also quartzite). That didn’t work very well. In fact, it didn’t work at all. It was too difficult to aim the hammer-stone precisely enough and didn’t seem to remove any material. Next, I chipped off a small quartzite flake with a sharp edge from a cobble and started sawing away on the quartzite cobble I had chosen for a maul. Below is my progress after ten hours of grinding and sawing.
One thing became immediately clear. This project was going to take a long, long time. Quartzite, on the Mohs scale of hardness, is 7.0 – 7.4. Some of the hardest rocks in the world. And, after ten hours of work, I had absolutely no doubts about that fact. Nor did my hands and fingers.
One of the stone flakes I used for sawing/grinding my stone maul for the first ten hours. Often, my finger would grind on the cobble surface as well, creating some rawness and blistering. Or getting gouged by the flake. You can see here that during the initial cutting of the cobble cortex (oxidized surface of the rock), I used a very small quartzite flake with a very thin cutting edge. The actual grinding or cutting edge surface of the flake was also very small. So, at first, progress was very slow.
Below was my progress grinding a groove on the maul. I eventually saw a groove after six hours of grinding. You can read more about my progress in my first three blogs on this website.
My quartzite stone maul through various stages, documented in hours of grinding. After four hours I was ready to abandon ship. I could barely see an incision on the cobble. And I certainly gained a new respect for our ancestors who used stone tool technology. After ten hours of work, I saw some progress. Maybe there’s hope after all in completing this stone maul before my fingers fall off. After ten hours of work, the groove is about 3.5mm deep and a maximum of 4mm wide.
My Next Twenty Hours of Grinding My Maul
I have worked on the maul for thirty hours. Below are a few photographs of what the maul looks like. I can say now that I’m winning the battle.
The maul after twenty hours of work (far left): groove length = 110mm; groove depth = 3.5mm; maximum groove width = 9mm. The maul after thirty hours of work (center and right): groove length = 125mm; groove depth =~5mm; maximum groove width = 11mm. The groove didn’t get much deeper (from after ten hours) but much longer and slightly wider. The amount of work invested in making the maul is measured in two ways: 1) total volume of material removed from the cobble; and, 2) total weight of material removed from the cobble. The total volume of material removed after ten hours of work: 110mm x 3.5mm x 9mm = 3,465 cubic mm; After 30 hours work: 125mm x 5mm x 11mm = ~6,875 cubic mm (the width is not uniform over the entire length of the groove, so this figure is likely less than the estimate here). The weight of the maul cobble before starting = 1,380 grams. Weight after thirty hours of grinding = 1,361 grams. I have removed a total of 19 grams of material after thirty hours of work.
A ‘rough’ sketch of three different aspects shows the grinding pebble’s position relative to the maul groove. In the first view, you are looking straight down on the maul and flake, showing the flake oriented diagonally across the width of the groove. In the second view, you are looking down the length of the groove from the end with the flake positioned diagonally across the groove but also tilted towards the right wall of the groove. In the third view, you are looking at the grinding pebble from the side with its front pointing down at a shallow angle towards the bottom of the groove. Ideally, the grinding pebble is in all three positions simultaneously as strokes are taken.
Grinding Facts and Progress
In an earlier blog, I estimated that I ground the maul 67% of the time in one hour; the remainder of the time I rested and examined my work. I decided to determine how much grinding I did over one hour by timing five hours of grinding. I tabulated the results below:
Hour
Minutes Grinding/Sawing
% (of one hour)
1
44
73.3
2
50
83.3
3
52
86.7
4
54
90
5
47
78
Mean Time Grinding/Sawing
49.4
82.3
It turns out I ground the maul longer than I had originally estimated. On average, I ground close to 50 minutes out of every hour. This turns out to be about 82.3%. However, I count the resting and examining the maul as part of the work process. It’s almost impossible to grind continuously for one hour. Maybe if you’re young and strong. I’m neither.
I also calculated how many strokes per minute I took by counting five sample strokes over a one minute period. Here are the results:
Sample Strokes per Minute
Number of Strokes
1
148
2
138
3
140
4
150
5
146
Mean Strokes per Minute
144.4
What constitutes a stroke? I counted a stroke here as the forward motion along parts of the groove as one stroke and the backward motion as the second stroke. The two strokes don’t have the same degree of effort. The backward stroke is not nearly as powerful and effective in grinding as the forward stroke which is the power stroke. How much less effective is very difficult to measure accurately. I have no idea how much force I’m exerting on the maul with either stroke (and it would be tough, but not impossible to measure). On average I took about 144 strokes per minute while grinding. If we calculate how many strokes it takes per hour, then multiply 144 x 49.4 = 7,113.6 strokes per hour. And, if we multiply that figure by thirty hours, I have taken 213,408 strokes so far. Ouch! No wonder I hurt sometimes.
The Grinding Process, or, How to Make a Very Narrow Maul Groove Wider
Initially, for the first ten hours of grinding, I used a very small, thin quartzite flake (weighing 14 grams) to establish a thin, deep, straight cut across the width of the cobble. Occasionally, I placed some wet sand in the groove to gain better grinding traction (which was also more effective in removing the skin from my fingers). But once the groove was about 4mm deep, it was time to begin to widen as well as deepen it. I thought there might be two possible ways of doing this: 1) angle the grinding flake to either side of the maul groove, so that the sides of the flake rub along the sides of the maul groove; and, 2) use a larger flake with a wider edge to widen the groove. It turns out I eventually ended up doing both.
Here’s how my grinding method progressed over the next twenty hours. I did not use any sand, because I worked in the house. After knocking off a few flakes from a small orthoquartzite pebble (weighing 108 grams as opposed to the smaller quartzite flake only weighing 14 grams) to form a cutting edge, I then retouched the cutting edge, using a hammer-stone, to blunt and widen it. I used this edge for many hours. It wore down and began to conform to the size and shape of the maul groove, fitting in nicely and touching the bottom of the groove and the sides. As the flake wore down, it got wider, and thereby also continued to widen the groove.
That was the first step to widening the groove. Next, I started experimenting with holding the grinding flake at certain angles. I got a lot more of the pebble grinding surface on the maul walls by doing this. During the last ten hours of grinding, I made the grinding process even more complicated, but also more effective. Not only did I angle my grinding flake to one side or the other (off the vertical plane), but I oriented the flake grinding edge diagonally across the groove channel and pointed it downwards. This resulted in a three-dimensional grinding action as shown in the photographs and illustration below. This technique abraded both the sides as well as the bottom of the groove. The front edge of the grinding flake was always fresh as you grind it down by angling it.
I think the groove is now deep and wide enough so that I can use even a bigger grinding pebble. The extra weight of the pebble and greater grinding surface should result not only in widening the groove to about 20mm (which is my ultimate goal) and 6mm – 7mm deep, but should also be more efficient because of the added weight of the grinding pebble/stone; thus requiring less effort and time.
A photograph of me grinding away with my pet pebble. The pebble is tilted to one side, its point slightly downward and aligned diagonally across the maul groove. I found that this is a very effective way of grinding the groove and scouring both sides and bottom at once. The grinding pebble’s edges seem to catch the quartzite surface better when positioned this way. Both the maul and the grinding pebble get worn down. The front edge of the grinding pebble is snapped off. So there is always a constantly new, rough front surface that grinds the groove.
A close-up shot of my grinding pebble positioned at the angles previously described to get maximum grinding traction and removal of material. In order to widen the groove, I will now search for a new, larger, heavier, grinding pebble with a rounded grinding edge. Ideally, it should be about 20mm – 22mm wide which is the intended maximum width of my groove.
My Pet Grinding Pebble and Other Flakes I Used
One of the major challenges of hand-grinding with a pebble or flake was finding one that fit my hand with no sharp pressure points. This is very important. Blisters can form quickly if the grinding stone doesn’t fit well. Initially, the small flakes I used hurt my hands and created blisters easily because they were relatively small. And, because of their size, it was very difficult to wrap something around them to soften the grip. When I graduated to the bigger quartzite grinding pebble shown in these photographs, I taped the portion that fits in my hand. This pebble was quite comfortable and didn’t blister or cramp my hand (well, at least not as fast) as I ground the stone maul. Not only must you look for an equally hard, or harder, material for a grinding stone, but one that is comfortable if you want to save your fingers and hands.
Below are various stages, captured with photographs, of my last grinding pebble which I used for twenty hours; and the changes it went through. I resharpened it a few times to broaden the grinding edge, so it would broaden the maul groove. The pebble is not a true quartzite, but rather an orthoquartzite (which is grainier and perhaps not as hard as quartzite).
My pet grinding pebble. Made of orthoquartzite, this pebble was coarse and tough enough to do some serious grinding on my quartzite maul. This photograph shows the various stages my grinding stone edge went through. The grinding edge became broader and smoother as I cut down into the maul groove. The sides of the grinding stone also got worn and polished because of the way I held it. The polished grinding edge still managed to wear away material in the groove.
Stone Maul Balance – Where Should the Groove Go?
I never really thought much about this until recently. But what about the balance of the maul when hafted? Where should the groove be positioned on the maul?: near the center, or more towards one end of the polls? There are pros and cons for each position. If the maul groove is too much off-center its awkward balance might create problems when lifting and swinging it; and difficulty using both ends. If the maul groove is centred, how effective is it in the lift and swing? One way to find an answer is to experiment with various types of hafting. However, if the groove is centred, and is sufficiently well balanced to lift and swing, then both polls can be used for pounding if the maul is relatively symmetrical.
There was another way to find out if the position of the groove on a maul was important: examine a sample of prehistoric stone mauls and measure where the groove was placed. In the maul samples below from Alberta and Saskatchewan, Canada, most of the grooves are off-center, either towards the proximal or distal poll. In the Saskatchewan sample, of the 15 examples shown, all 14 grooves are off-center, either on the proximal (n = 11) or distal (n = 4) poll. Rarely is the groove exactly centred, although a few specimens came close. And, in Gilbert Watson’s Saskatchewan sample (see below), when the groove is off-center towards the distal poll, the proximal poll is cone-shaped and thereby lighter than the distal poll. Thousands of years and thousands of maul users can’t be wrong. For whatever reason a hafted off-center maul was preferred. Presently, I can only speculate, without further experiments, why people chose this position for the groove. It likely has to do with balance (or imbalance with the weight more towards the striking end) since those mauls with grooves nearer the distal poll generally have smaller, lighter proximal polls.
If you look closely at my maul in the above photographs, the maul groove is slightly offset towards the proximal poll.
A sample of ground stone mauls from Alberta, Canada. Note that all of the grooves on the complete specimens are off-center, mostly toward the proximal end (n = 6) of the poll as opposed to the distal end (n = 4) (however, the numbers are close and the sample is small). When the groove is closer to the distal poll then the proximal poll is almost always more cone-shaped and therefore slightly smaller and lighter (as in the last two mauls). 2
These drawings of stone axes were published by Gilbert Watson in the Saskatchewan Archaeological Newsletter, 1966. Only one of the grooves in 15 samples is centred while the remainder are off-center, most often towards the proximal poll.
A Few Closing Thoughts
“The underlying principle behind optimizing theory is that past cultures always attempted to maximize returns while minimizing the expenditure of currency….As all humans operate under finite constraints, tool designs reflect the necessity to conserve time.” (John Darwent, Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, Canada)
As I sat hour after hour grinding away on my quartzite maul, feeling the pain and stiffness in my fingers, I often wondered why people chose quartzite to make these mauls. The answer to that question may have something to do with the effort to procure raw materials, time expenditure, and the benefits of making it from such a hard material. Archaeologists have pondered the trade-off between time and effort of making an object and the benefits acquired.3 Archaeologist, John Darwent, and others suggested four possible scenarios of the cost-benefit of making an object: 1) high cost, low benefit; 2) low cost, low benefit; 3) high cost, high benefit; and, 4) low cost, high benefit. He suggests that in terms of efficiency (benefit divided by cost), the cases can be ranked, except for instances 2 and 3 which are equivalent, as follows: 4 > 3; 2 > 1.
Clearly, in terms of production time (exceedingly long) and benefit (a maul that is virtually indestructible), my quartzite maul is probably a “3”: High Cost, High Benefit. In Alberta, other materials for maul making (e.g., granite, amphibolite, basalt, sandstone, granite) exist but are less common requiring more time and effort to find them. Even though these rock types are not as hard, and therefore easier to grind, there would be less benefit, breaking more easily (as the granite maul below shows, missing part of the distal poll). Quartzite cobbles are very common in Alberta. Saskatchewan Sands and Gravels, eroding out in creek and river cuts contain naturally suitably shaped cobbles, thus not requiring any, or little shaping (and thereby reducing work and effort considerably). Once the maul is made, relatively little maintenance is required.
The arrow points to the granite maul where chunks of the distal poll broke off, probably through use. The maul was found in a cultivated field so breakage from farm equipment can’t be ruled out. However, the break surface looks sufficiently weathered suggesting it happened a long time ago.
However, is this rather economic-oriented view of maul manufacture too simplistic? Is the choice of this tough stone, and the many hours required to fashion a maul, intended for something else? Here also, archaeologists have speculated, stating that optimization theory fails to explain why so much time and effort (or ‘surplus’) goes beyond a purely ‘functional’ point when making a stone tool. As Darwent explains, “…the most optimal decision on an economic level may not be the best choice on a social level.” In other words, a simple stone maul, made from softer materials, may be just as functional as one made of quartzite, but less prestigious at a social level. The difficulty, however, becomes knowing where to draw the line between how much work and effort is ‘functional’, as opposed to what is considered ‘surplus’. And whether the ‘benefits’ outweigh the ‘cost’.
Before signing off, my other thought about western Canadian stone mauls, concerns the scarcity of evidence of their manufacture in the archaeological record. In other words, where do old stone mauls go when they die? Or do they ever die? It seems most of them are found on the surface of cultivated fields and end up in farmers’ collections. Prehistorically, they might have been highly valued and curated, because of the effort it took to make them, and were perhaps passed down from one generation to the next. As mentioned before, we rarely find them in buried archeological contexts. And, we don’t find broken bits and pieces of mauls, such as parts of the poll hammer end or groove, in the archaeological record. 4 To my knowledge, we don’t find polished pieces of stone flake used to grind and shape the groove. This lack of evidence makes this artifact a bit of an enigma. Many questions, regarding its manufacture and use still need to be answered.
My pet grinding pebble (far left) and a number of rejuvenation flakes were removed from it to widen the grinding edge (on the right). The arrows all point to the polished surfaces of the flakes and my grinding pebble that wear very smooth when grinding the groove. If this method was used prehistorically then we should find evidence of it in the archaeological record. The characteristics of grinding on pebbles or flakes are subtle and require careful examination of the archaeological materials recovered.
From this experiment, it’s more likely the quartzite mauls were made by grinding rather than pecking. Although, here I admit, after looking closely at the grooves (which seem more ‘grainy’ than my maul), in the Alberta maul sample, that that the grooves may have been pecked. Perhaps I was too hasty in dismissing this method. It’s something that I will test by pounding and pecking on a quartzite cobble for a greater length of time.
My colleagues and I want to acquire some independent evidence to either verify or refute whether quartzite mauls were ground and not pecked. If you look at a close-up photograph of the granite and my quartzite maul grooves, you will immediately note the difference in the degree of smoothness of the maul grooves. This difference in smoothness is partly due to the differences in grain size in both types of rocks, but perhaps also on how each groove was made; by grinding for quartzite and pecking for granite.
Comparison of the granite and quartzite maul grooves. The quartzite maul groove is much smoother although parts of the granite maul groove also show some polish. I wonder if it too was ground instead of pecked; perhaps both. The other issue we have to consider is how much of this polish occurred when the maul was hafted and then used with the hafted handle constantly rubbing in the groove. The two different types of polish may not be distinguishable with the naked eye but may appear different under higher magnification.
We plan to examine my quartzite maul groove under high magnification and note the type of wear marks left from grinding it with another quartzite rock. Then we will examine both the granite maul and other quartzite mauls in the Alberta museum collections, to see if similar marks are present on them. Hopefully, this little exercise will give us independent verification (or not) of whether prehistoric Indigenous peoples in western Canada used this method to fashion their stone mauls.
In closing, I estimate it will take another ten to fifteen hours of grinding to finish one-half of this maul (assuming that the use of a larger, heavier grinding stone speeds up the process). This figure, when added to my already thirty hours of grinding, puts us at the 40-45 hour mark for just one-half. Thus, it will probably take about 80 – 90 hours to make the entire groove and perhaps another ten hours to make the handle and haft it onto the maul. That brings us to around one hundred hours of work.
And I intend to finish at least one-half of the maul. So, there will likely be one more final blog on my progress. And hopefully, by then there will be results from looking at the maul grooves under high magnification for manufacturing wear marks.
However, I’m going to soak my hurting hands in some warm Cuban waters before I tackle the home stretch of this project.
Adiós
Footnotes:
See the article by Kristine Fedyniak and Karen L. Giering. 2017. More than meat: Residue analysis results of mauls in Alberta. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Occasional Paper 36, regarding what types of materials people pounded with these mauls.[↩]
Photographs of Alberta mauls are from: Kristine Fedyniak and Karen L. Giering. 2017. More than meat: Residue analysis results of mauls in Alberta. Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Occasional Paper 36.[↩]
see John Darwent’s M.A. thesis. 1996. The Prehistoric Use of Nephrite on the British Columbia Plateau. Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada.[↩]
One of my colleagues suggested that broken stone mauls were used as boiling rocks, or in sweats, virtually disintegrating, leaving no evidence behind[↩]
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
A rare find discovered in 1975 while I was excavating at the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort Victoria (c.1863 – 1898), Alberta, Canada. The beadwork might be the remains of a dog or saddle blanket. Or some other personal item. Based on its context, it was most likely made by an Indigenous woman living in the fort. Both the color and design of the beadwork are preserved in these remains. 2 But, this example is the exception to the rule. Rarely do we find intact beadwork in the historic archaeological record. Instead we usually find thousands of beads scattered in and around buildings, cellars, trash pits, or privies. Often we have no idea who dropped or discarded them. In short, we often have little to work with when reconstructing their individual histories. 3
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…”
Glass trade beads. Recovered from the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830), northern Alberta, Canada
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
Slightly less spectacular than the Fort Victoria beads, is this string of glass trade beads exposed while excavating one of the Fort Vermilion I dwellings in 2016. Again, a rather unique find showing not only the types of beads Indigenous women living at the forts used, but also the color combinations they strung them together.
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.
A modern glass factory in Murano. According to one source 7 glass making in Murano was a serious business: “We visited the Signoretti factory (http://www.signoretti.it/) and were able to observe in one of their 10 studio areas where three guys (the master and two apprentices worked) were working to make an amber-colored chandelier. The apprenticeship period is 15 years and while there are no laws about it, glass makers are only men…In the past, the glass masters were required to live on the island of Murano and if they were caught having shared any secrets of the factory they worked in, their tongue and one hand would be cut off in punishment.”
“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
Venetian glass trade bead sample cards, 1898. The different types and varieties of glass trade beads was staggering. Many of the types and varieties seen in these sample cards appear in North America, including our Canadian fur trade and Indigenous archaeological sites. As you continue to read you will recognize some of these bead types recovered from the archaeological record. 9
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.
Examples of mandrel or wound round monochrome glass beads (center and right) from the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort Edmonton (c.1830 – 1915), Alberta, Canada. Wound beads generally have visible circular swirl lines aligned around the center hole. Air bubbles trapped in the glass are round. The white bead on the left (lacking the visible swirl marks), with embossed floral decoration on it, may have been made by glass forced into a mold with the floral design on it.
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.
Master list of wound glass trade bead types in Canada. The list was developed by Kenneth and Martha Kidd in the 1970s. It has been modified by Karlis Karklins and continually added to as we find more glass bead types at our Canadian archaeological sites. In this diagram the ‘W’ stands for ‘Wound glass beads’; ‘I’ for Type ; and, ‘a, b, c’ for variety (e.g., tubular, round, oval). Courtesy of Kenneth and Martha Kidd. 12
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.
This beautiful glass bead was made by blowing molten glass into a mold. This technique was time-consuming but capable of producing some extraordinary ornate beads. Typically these types of beads make up a very small percentage in fur trade assemblages. 13
Basic blown glass bead types found at Canadian archaeological sites. Courtesy of Karlis Karklins. 14
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.
Drawn glass beads with diagram of drawn method. White, opaque, monochrome glass bead (left, photograph courtesy of Fort Vancouver Museum bead collection). Polychrome glass bead on the right found by the author at an unidentified archaeological site just south of Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830) northern Alberta, Canada. Diagram on the right showing how molten glass was drawn to form a long tube (from Kidd and Kidd). 15Master list of drawn glass bead types found at Canadian archaeological sites. Courtesy of Kenneth and Martha Kidd. The one above found by the author is of the Ib type. 12
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.
Example of mold pressed glass beads from Fort Vancouver, Washington on the left (Photograph courtesy of Fort Vancouver Museum bead collection). Mold pressed glass beads from the HBC Fort Edmonton V (c.1830 – 1915) site on the right. In this method when making the hole, the outside diameter of the perforation becomes larger than the inside.
Master list of pressed, molded glass bead types from Canadian archaeological sites. Courtesy of Karlis Karklins. 14
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.
Example of a Czech mold pressed beads. Molded beads, often similar in appearance, were made by different methods. Careful study, or consultation with an expert (of which there are few) is often required to tell them apart. Even then it is difficult. 16
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.
These two rows of glass beads were found at the Leavenworth historic Arikara archaeological site (c1803 – 1832). The beads are more irregularly shaped and the colors are not as well defined and not as bright as European glass beads. The glass has a grainy texture. These glass trade beads are from the Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Vancouver (c.1829 – 1860), Washington State, USA. The glass, like the Leavenworth Indigenous glass beads, is coarser; almost as though it were only partially melted. The coloration, which also is not as well defined as most European beads, is similar to the Leavenworth Indigenous made glass beads. Were they made locally by Indigenous People? Or, are they truly European-manufactured? I read Lester Ross’s original site report and could find nothing suggesting he believed these beads to be somewhat different from European glass beads. 22
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 unequalled 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.
Amount of glass trade beads traded to western Canadian inland First Nations People between the early and late 1700s. Considering the minuscule weight of each bead, these figures would have numbered in the millions. And they only reflect those beads traded and not those also gifted before formal trade even began. The reduction of glass beads traded from York Factory by the 1750s and 1770s marks the inland incursions of the French, and then independent traders from Montreal cutting into the HBC’s domination of the inland Western Canadian trade. 23
Once fur trade posts were established further in the interior of western Canada, the Companies kept stores of glass trade beads for both trade and gifts. At Peter Fidler’s Nottingham House (c.1802 – 1806) on Lake Athabasca, pre-trading ceremonies dictated gifts be bestowed on potential Indigenous trading parties. Especially during the highly competitive period between the Hudson’s Bay Company and Canadians (North West and XY Companies). The above figures were taken from the post’s trading inventory lists. These records give us a brief glimpse into the importance and purchase of glass beads in the interior of Western Canada. But they rarely tell us what bead types First Nations preferred. 24
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
An example of Documentary Context and Clarity: Hudson’s Bay Company inventory of goods in Canada’s Peace River District, Alberta, Canada, 1825. The description of beads in this list leaves much to be desired. Some descriptions are vague (i.e., ‘Agats’?). It is virtually impossible to match these documentary descriptions with certain glass bead types (i.e., China flowered com.?) in the archaeological record. And quantities of beads are often also vague (bundle?, lb.?). These factors make reconstructing bead histories difficult with available documentary evidence. Of particular interest however, in this list are the wampum beads. These small shell beads are of eastern North American origin but were traded or purchased by Company employees and Indigenous People in western Canada. The authenticity of their presence in the west is born out archaeologically. We occasionally find wampum beads at our western fort sites. 26
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.
An example of Documentary Context and Clarity: A personal debt list of goods acquired by Hudson’s Bay Company trader, Hugh Faries in 1825, Peace River District, northern Alberta, Canada. Of note are the beads he bought. Based on these descriptions and quantities we have no idea what some of these beads are or how many were bought. If the descriptions were better we would be perhaps be able to reconstruct what types of beads Hugh Faries’ Indigenous wife preferred, allowing us to compare beads acquired by different families. Unfortunately, this is virtually impossible to do with these types of records. Thus, except in rare instances, even the simplest descriptions of individual family bead acquisitions are not possible. 26
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.
Example of a Example of Archaeological Completeness: Glass trade beads from the HBC Fort Edmonton V. The beads on the left are large wound beads known as ‘Pigeon Eggs’. The glass beads on the right are drawn monochrome (IIa) and polychrome (IIb) types. During our investigations at this fort, occupied for over seventy years, yielding over 50,000 artifacts, we recovered 112 beads. Not only is the bead sample small, but there is something wrong here. With this large a sample of artifacts, we should have recovered thousands of beads.
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.
Example of Archaeological Context, Clarity and Completeness: An 1875 rendition of the Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Dunvegan, Peace River, northern Alberta, Canada. This fort was occupied from 1805 – 1878. First by the North West Company (1805 – 1821). And later by the Hudson’s Bay Company. Even though the various dwellings of company employees are well-defined, glass beads found in this context are problematic: 1) the fort was occupied by two different fur trade companies; 2) over time each dwelling would have been occupied by more than one family, perhaps of different ethnic backgrounds; and, 3) we have a poor sample from this fort added to the fact that it was also plowed, mixing up the archaeological materials. The bead assemblages recovered from this fort, presently only allow us to talk about glass trade beads in broad terms. We know their date and geographic area of use. And, that Indigenous women likely purchased them. But, very little else. 27Example of Completeness: These images of pressed faceted glass trade beads recovered from Fort Vancouver, Washington, USA (as well as small beads from other forts) indicate that while most beads are small, some, such as the seed bead on the right, are almost microscopic in size. Recovery of these beads is problematic and is uneven in archaeological excavations. Uneven recovery leads to biased samples making the results of quantitative comparisons difficult.
If you enjoy learning about the archaeology of the Alberta fur trade, explore the human side of the era in my new fiction collection, Tales of the Canadian Fur Trade. Available now as an ebook and a print-on-demand paperback.
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
Hypothetical examples of contextual (upper) and frequency (lower) seriation. In the former method, only the date ranges of a particular artifact style are noted. In the latter method both the date ranges and frequency of occurrence within that range are noted. Many artifacts, including our automobile styles, or your eyeglass frame styles, have a range of use and also follow a curve of popularity. Once on the market a certain artifact type or style continually gains in popularity, reaching a peak, and then declines as other new styles are introduced.
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.
Examples of wound glass trade bead types found in the western Canadian fur trade post archaeological assemblages. A type refers to the label on the left side of each row of beads (e.g., WIIIa, WIc). The additional numbers below each bead (e.g., WIIe1, WIIIc1) refer to varieties based on different shapes, sizes or colors. Not all the varieties shown here have been found at the fur trade forts. But at least one or more variety in each of the major types has been found. Also, each of the fort assemblages are samples, and, with few exceptions, do not represent the total number of glass beads types potentially present at these sites. Therefore, both the glass bead types and varieties could change with additional sampling, or excavation of fur trade sites not yet excavated. 31Examples of major types of drawn or tubular glass beads found at western Canadian fur trade posts. This is the most common bead type present in fur trade assemblages. And the most common drawn beads are the tiny ‘seed beads’, usually of the IIa variety above and less than 2mm in diameter. These beads, also referred to as embroidery beads, gained popularity throughout the fur trade as beads were used increasingly more for creating large patterns on garments, instead of just necklaces, earrings, or strung on leather fringe. Among Great Plains Indigenous groups, for example, “…it is probable that very few embroidering beads were used by the Blackfeet before the American Fur Company opened its trade with them in 1831.” One of the benefits of having archaeological samples of these bead types from forts spanning a long time period, allows us to document when various Indigenous groups first adopted them, and when they reached their popularity in various regions in North America 32
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).
This figure shows fur trade sites which contained wound, oval, monochrome WIc glass bead types. The date range of occupation for each fur trade site having this bead type is plotted. Based on this evidence, the earliest known use of this bead type is based on the earliest dated site it was found at. The latest known date of use is based on the beginning of the latest dated site the bead type occurred at. Using only a presence/absence measure (or contextual seriation) it would be difficult to date sites of unknown age accurately with only this bead type (because the time range is so wide). Note also that this wound bead type is one of the earliest present at western Canadian fur trade sites. It occurs at the major fur trade company sites, including the American Fur Trade Company in the USA.
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:
Date range of wound, oval glass beads with leaf/floral design (WIIIb(2) is between 1791 -1829, based on their presence at six western Canadian and one American fur trade post. Also, these beads, are mostly associated with the North West Company (NWC). According to some bead experts 33 this might be the elusive ‘China flowered‘ bead listed in the 1825 Peace River men’s debt lists. The beads are white, resembling porcelain or china, thereby getting their name. And this bead type (which comes in numerous designs and colors) is the one of the few beads with a floral design on it. Although glass beads were imported from China, this specimen was likely made in Venice (see the Venetian sample bead cards). Unfortunately, many of the names of glass beads in the fur trade records cannot be accurately matched with those found in the archaeological record because of either poor or inconsistent documentation.
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
Glass trade beads and dentalium from NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830). Even at a fur trade site occupied only a little over thirty years, we see a variety of bead types, which were used in combination or replaced earlier styles. Dentalium was highly prized by Indigenous Peoples, even with the introduction of glass beads. But tastes changed as different kinds of beads were introduced for trade.
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:
This figure shows the relative percent of three major wound bead types (WIc, WIIIb KFE, and WIIIb (leaf/foral) plotted to time period using the western fur trade fort bead assemblages. Relative percent was computed by dividing the total number of each bead type by the total number of wound (WI) beads in each fort assemblage spanning a time period of c. 1750 – 1881. 36 The graph shows an increase and then decline in the relative percent of each of these bead types. Unfortunately the sample of fur trade sites is small, so the results are currently only a crude approximation. What these results show however, is that each glass bead type might be following a curve (of gradual increase, peeking in popularity at the turn of the 19th century and then declining over time). There are a few things noteworthy about this graph: 1) The differences in the relative percent of each bead type (once we have more archaeological bead assemblages to work with) through time make it possible to date assemblages of unknown dates; and, 2) if the this type of curve (which comes in many shapes) holds up with a larger sample, then these bead types follow a typical ‘fashion’ curve: after its initial manufacture each bead style gains in popularity, finally reaching a peak in popularity and then gradually declines in popularity until no longer used. I call this a fashion frequency curve which describes quantitatively how fashions/trends (whether in clothing, automobiles, or eyeglasses) act. Fashion frequency curves come in many shapes depending on how frequently the object is consumed (e.g., rapid acceptance and decline, resulting in a very steep curve; to gradual acceptance reaching a peak and then a gradual decline resulting in a more gradual curve; and everything in between these two curves).
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.
Sketch of a Inuit brow band collected at Repulse Bay by Captain Charles F. Hall in the early 1860s. The band was made from seal or caribou skin. It has a row of suspended seal teeth beads. Only the eleven central teeth have strings of alternate light and dark beads. An example of integrating new glass trade beads with traditional beading materials. What alludes us most in many of these historic examples is meaning. Was there social or spiritual meaning to using seals teeth, and only using strung beads of the central eleven strings? Or the colors of the beads used? Probably. Unfortunately traders or explorers rarely collected this information. Courtesy of Karlis Karklins. 40
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
This First Nations girl’s dress, collected by George Catlin, contains glass beads, quillwork, and painted decorations. According to Wayne Davis (1972:44) among the Blackfoot in the US: “This was particularly true of the last quarter of the nineteenth century which witnessed a florescence of Blackfeet beadwork and a decadence of quillwork.”43
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
A combination of wolf willow and glass seed beads used to make necklaces (top left). A close-up of wolf willow seeds showing the long lighter colored lines adding structure and design to the seed. 45
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.
Contemporary Indigenous beaders, by studying traditional beading techniques, have resurrected some of the Indigenous traditional forms of beading; such as making the once highly valued dentalium shell beads into earrings and necklaces. As Gwich’in beader Tania Larsson explains, it was her desire to retain traditions and identity: “I always wanted to wear jewelry that represented my Gwich’in culture and it was really hard to find that.”46 So, perhaps we haven’t finished that quantitative traditional bead curve representing the popularity of Indigenous traditional beadwork as we continue to follow it into the 21st century. 47
‘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
Photograph on the left is from the Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Victoria, Alberta, Canada of a beaded garment or bag. All the beads are the small glass seed beads used to decorate the object. One wrong stroke with the trowel and we would have lost this unique artifact. We would have only found hundreds of tiny beads scattered on the ground in its place. The photograph on the right shows seed beads found at the Fort Union site, North Dakota, USA. Seed beads, while always important throughout the fur trade, continued to become more popular throughout the nineteenth century. Indigenous People used more of these small beads for embroidery for larger designs and patterns on garments and other objects. 50
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
These two images illustrate changes in the use of glass beads by Plains Indigenous through time. Increasingly throughout the 19th century, many Indigenous groups used the much smaller glass beads to embroider large areas of cloth and leather (right), unlike the larger beads used as hair and necklace decorations (left). 52
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
Drawn glass seed beads from some of the western Canadian fur trade forts showing the major changes through time. The upper diagram shows the gradual change from tubular- and square-shaped seed beads most common in the late 18th century – early 19th century archaeological assemblages, to round or circular seed beads by the mid-19th century. 54 The glass seed beads are more frequently smaller after the mid-19th century, as the two photographs from Fort Riviere Tremblante and the later Fort Vermilion II beads indicate. There is also less variation in size, allowing First Nations and Metis women to sew more uniform, neater designs. The bottom photograph shows the amount of variation in bead shape of the larger seed beads on the left side, as opposed to the smaller, later period, more uniform seed beads on the right side. 55
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.
This beaded cushion is from Fort Vermilion, Alberta, Canada. It was made by Metis Francoise LaFleur Moberly, daughter of Jean Baptiste Lafleur. c.1879-1885. Metis women were superb embroiderers and artists. Because of their exquisite floral designs (in both silk embroidery and beadwork), the Metis became known as the ‘Flower Bead People‘, crafting floral beaded works in a wide variety of colours. 56
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 colours 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.[↩]
Most of you are familiar with images such as these when anyone mentions beads. Glass trade beads come in all shapes, sizes and colors. These are only a few of the thousands of beads I’ve recovered from our many fur trade sites in western Canada. Their beauty, uniqueness, and considerable variety are one reason Indigenous People, across Canada and the world, traded for them. While certainly beautiful, beads were also a means of expression unparalleled by few other mediums. But what types of beads did Indigenous People make before glass trade beads appeared in the Americas; and the world? And how did those prehistoric beads shape acceptance of glass trade beads in the Americas?
“Beads are fucked up. I just want to address that….The historic threads of the slave trade, land theft, and community displacement are strung through glass beads from Europe. Needless to say I’ve got a complicated relationship with those beautiful little bubbles of glass.” (Bobby Dues, contemporary beader, Sisseton Wahpeton Oyate Tribe, Tucson, Arizona) (From: Christian Allaire. 2017. Meet 8 Indigenous Beaders Who Are Modernizing Their Craft. VOGUE)
Beads: Just Baubles, or More?
I recently read an article in Vogue Magazine about contemporary Indigenous beaders. Bobby Dues’ statement brought back memories for me about beads. He isn’t alone when expressing his feelings about glass trade beads. I’ve learned that the hard way several times over the years. Beads, it seems, revive peoples’ memories about their history. And for some Indigenous People, those memories are dark.
My first confrontation with this darker side of glass trade beads came in 1980. I was a teaching assistant at Simon Fraser University’s archaeological field school at Bella Bella, British Columbia, Canada. We were excavating the historic HBC Fort McLaughlin (c.1833 – 1843) site. Local First Nations People assisted us. The sight of glass trade beads brought on some negative, emotional outbursts from our assistants.
The conversation went something like this: ‘You gave us a few glass beads, for furs that were much more valuable. You duped us.’ Over the years that’s one recurring theme I’ve heard about glass trade beads.
I sympathize with these feelings. However, they bring up some misconceptions many people have about glass trade beads.
Let’s start with trade. Trade is: A transaction between two parties which is mutually acceptable to both parties. Under most circumstances trade can’t happen unless both sides agree to it. First Nations People weren’t forced to trade. They traded freely, acquiring something useful and unique, in return for something common in their territories. The transaction may look lopsided. If you only look at it from a European monetary perspective.
And from the many historic accounts I’ve read, Indigenous People were shrewd traders. For example, the Gwich’in demanded the latest styles in beads at the Yukon forts. When they didn’t get them they either didn’t trade or traded elsewhere:
“…the frustrations 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)
Whenever something unique enters a trade system, it becomes valuable (because of its uniqueness). And highly desirable. I just read an article about Venetian glass trade beads found in the Americas before Columbus arrived. How? By trade routes from Europe through Asia and across the Bering Sea, into Alaska. Why? Because Indigenous People desired this easily transportable, and very unique item. And likely because they had something valuable to offer in return.
Blue wound glass beads, found by Michael Kunz, the University of Alaska Museum of the North and Robin Mills of Alaska Bureau of Land Management. The beads were found at three sites along Alaska’s Brooks Range. Mass spectrometry carbon-dating on trace amounts of twine discovered alongside the beads dated them between 1397 – 1488 A.D. Photograph courtesy of: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/tiny-blue-beads-european-artifact-north-america-old-180976966/. European articles entered the Americas before Columbus arrived. Along trade networks stretching from central Europe reaching the Americas, these easily transportable and rare items were desired (but not forced on) by Indigenous People in the Americas.
Secondly, there’s the whole gnarly problem of the cross-cultural value of things. Yes, from a European monetary value system, sea otter pelts were worth more than a few glass beads. At least in Europe. But, those glass beads carried much more value in the Indigenous world than sea otter pelts. They carried, what Anishinaabe, Ojibway bead researcher Malinda Gray has termed cultural value. In other words, because of their uniqueness and scarcity, they brought prestige and power to their Indigenous owners.
As Gray points out this trivialization of the value of objects traded or gifted to Indigenous People all started with first contact:
“The language Columbus used is belittling his Indigenous “converts” with the phrase “trifles of insignificant worth”. The discourse has been set immediately after European contact that beads hold no value and are easily used as tools to seduce Indigenous people into the European value system. For the Europeans, beads are merely trinkets, which will be used in trade and conversions, but to the Indigenous people they are objects that can increase status through expression.” (From: Malinda Gray. 2017. Beads: Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, University of Toronto.)
So ingrained were glass beads in some Indigenous prestige and economic systems, that, for example, they determined whether a Kutchin man could even marry. Unless he first decorated his prospective wife with glass beads. And if he wanted to become a chief, he had to collect two-hundred dollars worth of beads (from Murray, Alexander Hunter. 1910. Journal of the Yukon, 1847-48. Edited by L J. Burpee. National Archives of Canada, Publication No.4. Government Printing Bureau, Ottawa.)
To say that historically glass beads were an inconsequential bauble is to do a great disservice to their importance and value among Indigenous Peoples. And promotes disrespect for the people who traded for them! Historically, value is often a tough thing to pin down.
Try as I might, my arguments about the value of those blue trade beads to North West Coast First Nations People fell on deaf ears.
““I [was] looking at all the Gwich’in items they [Smithsonian Institution] had in their collection. . . . These items that belonged to my nation were the most beautiful pieces of art I had seen. This visit is when I really fell in love with the color palette of vintage and antique beads. The colors and qualities of them were so different from today’s bead production.” (Tania Larson, Teetł’it Gwich’in, Yellowknife, N.W.T., Canada. brackets mine)
Catherine Blackburn (Dene, Saskatchewan, Canada) believes the study of historic beadwork gives Indigenous People a voice about their histories:
“Beadwork showcases the individuality of our histories. . . instead of generalizing our cultures and perpetuating harmful narratives….Within this space, we can reclaim and celebrate our identities.”
As I read their stories, certain words and concepts about beading kept reoccurring: Beading as a means of communication, expressing individuality, unity/commonality (family and group); and, connection (with the past). In a seeming contradiction, capable of expressing both distinction and commonality among their owners.
As Melinda Gray also points out:
“Beadwork encompasses every aspect of Indigenous life, it transcends temporarily and spatiality….there are two sides of beads within the culture: beadwork embodies both the traditional part and the contemporary future.”
So, before taking a closer look at those glass trade beads in the Canadian fur trade, let’s step back and examine some ancient and traditional forms of beading around the world. Hopefully, this digression into the past will lead to discovery and clearer understanding of their meaning.
First, we need to define what a bead is. The definition below is quite broad. Believe me, I’m all over the map when it comes to what constitutes a bead:
“A small piece of glass, stone, bone, or other material, of various shapes, and perforated for threading with others as a necklace or rosary or for sewing or attaching onto fabric, leather or some other solid medium.”
Antiquity of Beads in the ‘Old World’
Over the millennia, throughout the world, beads appeared in every shape, color and size imaginable. People from many cultures made them from stone, bone, ceramic, metal, glass, wood, claws, horn, quills, and teeth.
As to their appeal and function. Well, the answer to that question varies and changes. Obviously beads of any sort were pretty and used for adornment. However, it seems like a lot of work and effort went into something that was simply meant to be aesthetically self-pleasing. And, if beads were used for adornment, then, for who? For only the owner? Or for others? An audience? Perhaps some of the examples below will lead to answering these questions.
Moroccan Snail Shell Beads
In November, 2021 archaeologists discovered perforated snail shell beads in Morocco dating back 150,000 years – possibly the oldest known example of human jewelry ever found.
These snail shell beads pose an intriguing question. Did early humans already need to communicate to others with adornment? Or are we reading too much into what may have been simply an article for personal adornment? According to archaeologist, Steven L. Kuhn: “[The beads] were probably part of the way people expressed their identity with their clothing….They’re the tip of the iceberg for that kind of human trait. They show that it was present even hundreds of thousands of years ago, and that humans were interested in communicating to bigger groups of people than their immediate friends and family.” (From: https://news.artnet.com/art-world/worlds-oldest-jewelry-morocco-2037635)
If this evidence passes academic scrutiny (because there is currently some debate whether humans made those perforations) then expression with objects may be an ancient human trait.
In this early bead example, it took little effort to fashion the natural form and beauty of the snail shell into a necklace of beads. But, with this method, while effective, there was little choice in adornment (unless you used different types of snail shells). And, if these shells were common and accessible then everyone could make a shell bead necklace, leaving little room for individual expression.
African Ostrich Shell Beads
In other parts of Africa, 50,000 years ago, researchers found archaeological evidence of the first human-formed beads made from ostrich shells. This is considered an important step because now, as Doctors Jennifer Miller and Yiming Wang state:
“Ostrich eggshell (OES) beads are ideal artifacts for understanding ancient social relationships. They are the world’s oldest fully manufactured ornaments, meaning that instead of relying on an item’s natural size or shape, humans completely transformed the shells to produce beads. This extensive shaping creates ample opportunities for variations in style. Because different cultures produced beads of different styles, the prehistoric accessories provide researchers a way to trace cultural connections.” (From: Jennifer M. Miller and Yiming V. Wang Ostrich eggshell beads reveal 50,000-year-old social network in Africa. Nature.)
The early Egyptians highly valued their jewelry, including beads. Using a combination of ceramic and a glass-like glaze, named faience, this newly formed plain-colored material turned vibrant shades of yellow, red, brown, green, turquoise, orange, auburn, and blue when kiln fired.
Unlike beads made from natural materials, these beads were fashioned into different shapes and sizes. Like the ostrich shell beads, the Egyptians attained more bead shape variety this way.
The Egyptians, however, went one step further. Instead of using the natural color of the material, they controlled color. And for Egyptians, color, as it does in many cultures, took on symbolic significance and meaning:
Black – death, the underworld and the unknown; birth, life and resurrection;
Red – life or a higher being, destruction, blood and flesh;
Blue – life, birth, rebirth and fertility; Nile River;
Green – growth, goodness, fertility and life; good deeds and productivity;
Yellow – sun, eternity;
White – purity, innocence, cleanliness and clarity.
The antiquity and popularity of beads varies considerably regionally throughout the Americas. Prior to European contact, Indigenous People made beads from stone, bone, shells, quills, and teeth. And, as in other parts of the world, they often fashioned them from naturally occurring materials or deliberately shaped and sized them to suit their needs.
West Coast of Canada
One outstanding example of a stone beads comes from Sechelt, British Columbia, along Canada’s West Coast. Archaeologists, together with local shíshálh First Nation members uncovered burials, dated c.3,700 years ago, literally shrouded in stone beads. Parallel rows of nearly 350,000 small stone beads, weighing about seventy pounds completely covered the man’s body.
Recreated faces and bead covering of two burials from Sechelt, British Columbia, Canada. The stone beads worn by the man alone represented a tremendous investment in labour, making them highly valuable. According to a recent article in The News Talkers (https://thenewstalkers.com/community/discussion/32424/buried-in-beads-4000-years-ago-this-chiefly-family-lives-again) : “Producing so many beads by hand would have taken a vast amount of time, says Clark. Made from small pieces of shale or mudstone, each bead had to be ground into a disc roughly half the size of an aspirin, then drilled with a hole. When archaeologist Brian Thom of the University of Victoria tried to replicate this process several years ago with pieces of slate and traditional stone tools, it took him 13 minutes on average to make just one stone bead. An experienced bead-maker could have sped things up considerably, doubling the rate of production, suggests Clark. But even in that best-case scenario, more than 35,000 hours would have been needed to make the chief’s ceremonial bead garment.”
This tremendous investment in labour bestowed on this man, through beads, distinguished him from most others. Few others would have been able to duplicate burial shrouds of this sort in North West Coast society.
If you enjoy learning about the archaeology of the Alberta fur trade, explore the human side of the era in my new fiction collection, Tales of the Canadian Fur Trade. Available now as an ebook and a print-on-demand paperback.
Dentalium: Nature’s Bead
Also on America’s West Coast, First Nations People used the beautiful, elongated dentalium, or tusk shells as natural beads.
Also referred to as tooth shells or tusk shells. Traditionally, the shells of Antalis pretiosa (previously known as Dentalium pretiosum, the precious dentalium (a species which occurs from Alaska to Baja, California) were harvested from deep waters off the coast of Vancover Island.
According to Janet Walker (https://walkergoldsmiths.com/dentalium-is-everywhere/): “Dentalium is a seashell harvested on the Pacific coast of western Washington and southern British Columbia in waters averaging 60 feet deep, it rarely washed up on shore and had to be deliberately removed from the sea floor with a broom-type tool. It was traded everywhere. The standard was 6 foot strings strung end to end in a manner that they didn’t fit inside each other as the standard unit of trade. Journals of early fur traders and ships logs mention fathoms of Dentalium – 6 feet long used as a standard for trading.”
Dentalium was so precious and desirable, it was traded over a wide geographical area. It endured during historic times when glass trade beads were already available. We find dentalium shell at our interior western 18th and 19th Canadian fur trade posts, nearly a thousand miles from the West Coast. Was its retention one way of keeping that connection with one’s past? Perhaps. It did represent long-standing historical traditions and retention of cultural value.
Shells of the species Antalis pretiosa which had been gathered on the shores of Vancouver Island were first traded to the Canadian Plateau between 1,000 and 1 BCE. During the 1st century CE, the shell was a common trade item in the Plateau region. The shell’s length and quality determined value. Highest quality shells would be about 2.25 inches long, and a dozen would typically be strung together. A 27.5 inch string of dentalium was worth a redwood dugout canoe (Dubin, Lois Sherr. 1999. North American Indian Jewelry and Adornment: From Prehistory to the Present. New York: Harry N. Abrams). Photograph: Choker Plateau c 1875-1900 Shell (Dentalium pretosium), glass beads, sinew, brass beads. L 33 cm. Nez Perce National Historical Park, NEPE 2194 Bracelet 1830s Shell (Dentalium pretosium), glass beads, leather. L 26 cm. Nez Perce National Historical Park, NEPE 8762.
Wishram woman in bridal garb, c.1910. While her garb is mostly made of glass beads, her earrings are dentalium. (Photograph by Edward S. Curtis (1868-1952). If you look closely, she is wearing what look like wampum beads (see below) around her neck and cowrie shell beads around her waist.
East Coast Wampum Beads
On North America’s East Coast, First Nations People cut and drilled shells to make wampum beads. Wampum — a Narragansett (Algonquian language family) word meaning a string of white shell beads — are tubular beads manufactured from Atlantic coast whelk shell (white beads) and quahog clam shell (purple beads).
The Two Row Wampum Belt (Kaswentha) of the Haudenosaunee People: “It symbolizes an agreement of mutual respect and peace between the Haudenosaunee and European newcomers (initially the Dutch) to North America. The two rows of purple wampum beads on a background of white beads represent a canoe and a European ship. The parallel paths represent the rules governing the behavior of both Peoples. The belt stipulates that neither group will force their laws, traditions, customs or language on each other, but will coexist peacefully as each group follows their own path.” (Source: Malinda Gray. 2017. Beads. Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, University of Toronto).
“Wampum was its own visual language that represented more than beads, it represented a value system for the Iroquois people that was not only political, but also expressed cultural values.” (From: Malinda Gray, Anishinaabe, Ojibway beader. In Beads. Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value).
Elk ‘Ivory’ Beads
On the prairies in central Canada and the United States, First Nations People used elk canines as a sort of bead, perforating it and attaching it to their garments.
According to Karen Giering, Royal Alberta Museum: “Elk were hunted for food, their hide was used for clothing, their antlers were made into a variety of tools, and their eye teeth were shaped and polished into pendant beads used to decorate clothing (Grinnell 1892; Kidd 1986; Wissler 1986). All elk have two upper canines or eye teeth. Sometimes called ivories, these teeth are vestigial tusks and are actual ivory.” (From: Elk Ivory Pendants in Alberta. ARCHAEOLOGICAL SURVEY OF ALBERTA OCCASIONAL PAPER NO. 38)
An Arikara girl. c.1908. Wearing a garment adorned with elk teeth. Photograph by Edward Curtis. Ethnographer G. B. Grinnell describes elk teeth and marriage arrangements of the Blackfoot People: “A chief’s daughter would already have plenty of good clothing, but if the girl lacks anything, it is furnished. Her dress is made of antelope skin, white as snow, and perhaps ornamented with two or three hundred elk tushes. … Elk tushes were highly prized, and were used for ornamenting women’s dresses. A gown profusely decorated with them was worth two good horses.”
Besides being highly decorative, what else did the possession of the dentalium or elk canines convey? Because they were so difficult to attain, they were valuable. And because not everyone could purchase them in such large quantities, they distinguished the owner from others. In other words, they communicated the owner’s gender, marital status, and social position to others.
“The Blackfoot people have always communicated important information through clothing. From a distance, a Blackfoot person could be identified by their style of dress. Colour, pattern, and trim conveyed information such as an individual’s status, family affiliation, or special relation-ships with certain animals (Wissler 1986). These garments were more than beautiful clothing. They embodied and expressed values and spiritual beliefs at the core of Blackfoot life.” (Karen Giering. 2019.Elk Ivory Pendants in Alberta. ARCHAEOLOGICAL SURVEY OF ALBERTA OCCASIONAL PAPER NO. 38)
Quill Beads
Wampum, stone or dentalium beads were less than ideal for decorating large areas of objects because they were either time-consuming to make or hard to acquire. With quills (from porcupines or birds), however, People could decorate large areas of an object. But, are quills beads? Here I’m pushing the definition to the limit.
Porcupine or bird quills were light and hollow and attachable to objects. Unlike most stone or shell, they could be dyed to produce a variety of colors (black, blues, yellow, and reds). Both design elements and colors among the Arapaho and Odawa represented sacred beings and connections to nature. According to A. G. Green and Daniel Radus, specific colors had unique meanings allowing for diverse and unique designs carrying many cultural or religious meanings (From: Green, A. G. (2015-01-01). “Arapaho Women’s Quillwork: Motion, Life, and Creativity”. Ethnohistory. 62 (2): 387–388. Radus, Daniel (2018). “Margaret Boyd’s Quillwork History”. Early American Literature. 53 (2): 513–537.
Quillwork rosettes of concentric circles adorned historical Plains men’s shirts, as did parallel panels of quillwork on the sleeves. These highly abstracted designs contained layers of symbolic meaning. (From Feest, Christian F. Native Arts of North America. London: Thames and Hudson, 1992.)
And even though quills were linear objects, both geometric and circular/curvilinear designs could be created from them. Also, the porcupine (and birds) was widely spread throughout North America (from Alaska to Mexico) providing a readily available medium to work with. In places where it wasn’t present, people traded for quills.
Beautiful porcupine quill work showing both geometric and curvilinear designs. Prior to the introduction of small glass beads, this was one of the few decorative methods capable of covering large areas of an object. Are quills a kind of bead, or acting like beads? Left Photograph courtesy of: https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/quillwork
Most often the quill was not really a bead in the strict definition of the word. It acted more like embroidery (introduced after European contact). But there were exceptions, such as on the traditional quillwork below.
This is perhaps one of the most intriguing photographs of quillwork I’ve ever run across. Not only do both glass beads and quills decorate this historic Eastern Woodland legband – a good example of the retention of quillwork even with the presence of glass beads. But according to authors Christina Cole and Susan Head: “Unflattened quills can be cut and strung like tubular beads as shown in the finger-woven legbands (NMAI 242006);…. these legbands also have flattened quills wrapped around groups of warp yarns to form a decorated warp fringe.” (From: Cole, Christina, and Susan Head. 2010. The History and Analysis of Pre-Aniline Native American Quillwork Dyes. In Textile Society of America Symposium Proceedings.)
Mayan Beads
The ancient Mayans of southern Mexico and central America made jewelry, including beads, from many materials. However, only higher status individuals could wear jewelry. Jade, common to the region, became one of most valuable materials for making jewelry (because making it was so labor-intensive), including beads. It attained religious significance among the Mayans, both in religious offerings and its association with water and vegetation. Mayans associated the green jadeite with rain and the beginning of the growing season and especially the cultivation of corn. It was symbolically associated with life and death. Green jadeite adornment was used in the “life after death” rituals and burials of the important members of society.
Jade beads, in all shapes and sizes were an important adornment for some members of Mayan society. In Mayan society, not only the object (beads) takes on meaning (differentiating members of society) but the material (jade) takes on spiritual and social (semi-translucent green for royalty) significance. Photograph from: https://www.gettyimages.ca/photos/jade-maya
Jadeite can be white, pink, lavender and black. But the most revered color was ya’ax chich or the semi-translucent green jade. While higher status individuals could wear jade beads, most green jadeite jewelry were reserved primarily for royalty (the city-state kings and queens and their relatives). (From: Jack Guy. 2018. How Jade Became More Valuable than Gold in Mayan Culture. Culture Trip: https://theculturetrip.com/central-america/guatemala/articles/how-jade-became-more-valuable-than-gold-in-mayan-culture/)
Where Does Meaning Reside?
Beads, in a variety of shapes, colors, sizes and materials, are a part of our human history. That variety, it seems, is essential for various forms of expression or human distinction or affiliation. Beads, like other forms of material culture, carry meaning and expression in any of their various attributes (e.g., color, material, or shape) or attribute states. But there are no set rules (more on this later) on what attributes signal what messages. Unfortunately, not all attributes express the same things among individuals in different societies. It is the historic trajectory of those attributes which eventually determine specific meaning.
Meaning in bead attributes is sometimes well-documented historically. But not always. When found in the archaeological record, the bead’s context and association is important to ascertain meaning. For example, the simple presence or absence of a specific object, material, or attribute may signal distinction or affiliation among members of society. Among the Maya, jade found only among parts of the population signals distinction of certain members from others. Conversely, a bead attribute such as blue may signify commonality or affiliation within a group, if found among many members in society; as opposed to members of another group or society.
A Few Closing Remarks
Beads range from the very simple natural variety to those requiring a tremendous investment of work in their manufacture. Some were simply means of self-adornment and self-expression, while others carried more information about their owners to others. Pre-colonial beads attained value when made of rare, or hard to acquire objects (e.g., shells, claws or teeth), or investing countless hours making them. Often their degree of value dictated who within a group owned them.
While natural beads might convey value and express gender and social standing, they were limited to some degree as a means of social communication because of their limited diversity. The deliberate manufacture of beads into a variety of shapes, sizes and colors, would have allowed for more and more complex forms of expression. Was this something that humans desired, thus driving more varied and complex bead innovations among certain groups?
All these processes were in operation among Indigenous groups long before Europeans reached the shores of the Americas. As we will see in the next segment on beads, it wasn’t a big leap for Indigenous Peoples to incorporate trade beads, which were rare and unique, and came in a bewildering array of new materials, sizes, shapes and colors, into their economic value and social systems.
One thing is certainly clear. The bead wasn’t just some pretty bauble, or trifles of insignificant worth to Indigenous People, as first described by Christoper Columbus (I wonder if he saw the hypocrisy of his statement as he counted his prayers on his rosary beads). Unfortunately that simplistic view of the bead, and of the People who made and wore them, has lingered for over five-hundred years. And has tainted our perception of its worth and their traditions.
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.
Winter has its moments. Late last winter my friend Bob Dawe and I went ice-fishing on one our central Alberta lakes. The weather was pretty decent. Unfortunately the fish didn’t get the message.
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.
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.
Rose hips, growing on wild roses, are very high in Vitamin C. One-thousand grams of rose hips contain 2000 mg of Vitamin C. In fact they contain fifty-percent more Vitamin C than lemons and oranges and 10 % more than blueberries. In western Canada Vitamin C was growing under the very noses of the early traders. Images courtesy of: https://depositphotos.com/stock-photos/rosehips.html
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.
A traditional Secwepemc pit house from south-central British Columbia. Most pit houses were eight to ten metres in diameter and 1.5 metres ) deep. People went in and out via a notched pole ladder extending through the smoke hole in the roof. Image courtesy of: http://www.skeetchestn.ca/files/images/History/Pit-House.jpg
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.
According to Mike Parker: “The Burdei, a sod house style structure, is a temporary shelter for early Ukrainian settlers. Despite its simplicity, it is one of the most memorable structures at the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village near Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.” Image courtesy of: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/64668944638438534/
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.
Subterranean houses are both warm in the winter and cool in the summer, requiring way less energy. And you don’t have to live like a gopher. The houses I have seen are at ground level with mounds of dirt on top and the sides. The downside of this kind of dwelling: It needs to be built stronger to support the heavy loading on the roof. And it needs a good ventilation system to remove the humidity, because it is essentially air tight. All these construction methods and technologies are now available. Photograph courtesy of: https://thearchitecturedesigns.com/unique-underground-homes-designs-you-must-see/
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.
Left: Inuit man wearing snow goggles carved out of caribou antler. Image courtesy of: https://canadianinnovationspace.ca/snow-goggles/. Right: Modern snow goggles perform the same function of cutting down the brilliant glare from snow in the winter.
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.
The first point blankets were created by French weavers who developed a “point system” — a way to specify the finished size of a blanket — sometime in the 17th century. (See also Weaving.) The term “point,” in this case, originates from the French word empointer, which means “to make threaded stitches on cloth.” The points were simply a series of thin black lines on one of the corners of the blanket, which were used to identify the size of the blanket.
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.
French Canadian Habitants and voyageurs, First Nations and Metis People wore wool capotes. Design and color were based mostly on personal needs or common shared values. Northern hunters liked the mostly white colors for camouflage in the winter. It became an article of fashion, being easily modified according to the tastes of the people. My wife and I own hooded capotes which were sewn for us using an original fur trade design. Left: Cree elk hunter by Arthur Henning; Center: Chipewyan hunter, Wood Buffalo by Frederick Remington; Right: Dog driver dressed for winter travel with capote and snowshoes.
“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.
Different styles of capotes worn by Metis People. Some were elaborately stitched and fringed or turned into buttoned double breasted jacketsLeft: My wife’s woolen capote made in 1974 from an original design. Center: A men’s Hudson’s Bay blanket coat, or Mackinaw, 1965. Right: The Canadian winter Olympic team, 1968, Grenoble, France, wearing blanket coats in opening ceremonies. Canadian Olympic teams also wore the blanket coat in 1936, 1960 and 1964. A distinctly Canadian winter garment that endures the test of time.
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.
Snowshoe netting needles, similar to this one found in Maine, USA, have been recovered from Canadian fur trade sites. The needle was used to knit the rawhide mesh onto the snowshoe frame. Image courtesy of the Peabody Museum: https://collections.peabody.harvard.edu/objects/details/12855
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.
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….
Many of you might be wondering, after reading my previous two posts about my stone maul project, why I haven’t written a follow-up post since last May. I have lots of excuses to avoid grooving that quartzite maul. Pain is high on the list. Skinning my fingers, breaking finger nails, arthritis and inflamed joints, and generally getting stone dust all over myself, immediately come to mind. And then of course there’s the reno from hell happening at my home.
Enough said. Perhaps it’s time for an update. I continued grinding away on my maul for about two more hours for the rest of May. I used a quartzite burin-like flake again because it worked better than anything I tried so far. However, I added wet sand to the groove for these two hours of work. I could feel the grinding flake catching and abrading the maul channel much better than before. Below is what the maul looked like after those two hours (now six hours in total).
My stone maul after about six hours of work. I was hoping maybe the inside of the maul was softer than the cortex (the outer oxidized surface of the rock). Not true say my knowers of stone. The inside is just as hard, as I’m finding out.
The groove is about 9cm long and 1.0cm – 2.0cm wide, and about 1mm – 2mm deep. The area on either side of the groove is becoming polished. Probably from my fingers continually rubbing against it.
I’m having a hard time keeping the groove straight. Once a straight groove line is established, it’s easy to keep this line when working near the middle. But at the end of the groove is where the battle to keep it straight is being waged. I’m worried that if I stray too much the groove on either end of the maul won’t join up when I reach the other side of the maul (if I ever get that far). So I penciled a line on the maul to help keep me on track.
I also noticed that no matter which direction I grind the groove, by occasionally reversing the maul in my hand (wrongly thinking the other end might be softer), one wall of the groove is ridging while the other shows more rounding or angling. I can’t currently explain why this is happening. If I was only pushing one way or not reversing the maul, then either the angle of the flake or the angle I am holding the flake and grooving might explain this difference.
Sketch of cross-section of the maul surface with the groove. One side is relatively straight. The other side is more angled/curved to the surface which is also a little lower than the other side of the groove. Occasionally I find myself holding the grinding flake at an angle, instead of straight up and down. But because I turn the maul often this angling should affect both walls of the groove the same?
A Little More Background on Making Ground Stone Tools
There are few historical or ethnographic descriptions of people making groundstone tools of any kind. Karen Giering, Royal Alberta Museum, sent me this interesting article, on ground stone axe manufacture by the Héta (meaning All of Us) Indians of Brazil, written by Vladimir Kozak in 1960 (published in 1972 in the Journal of the American Museum of Natural History). The Héta are now extinct and Kozak was almost too late to record this practice. The Héta had already replaced their stone axes with steel axes. His is one of the few articles describing the manufacture of a stone axe in the Americas. Some of the processes involved apply to my ground stone maul.
Kozak describes the stone axe: “The blade was nearly oval in cross section, and the bit was sharpened to a keen edge. The butt was buried deep within the thick upper part of the wooden handle, which was about two to three feet long. In the hands of one skilled in its use, the stone ax was, as I came to see, an effective tool.”
Although he had trouble convincing the Héta to make a stone axe for him (why do this when they already had steel axes), Kozak finally succeeded. Here are some highlights when Kozak observed the Héta men making an axe:
Careful selection of the stone for the axe head: “A stone should be of the proper size and have the approximate shape of the finished ax, that is, an elongated ovoid. By beginning with a stone of this shape, much less abrading is required, thus saving the ax maker many hours of work. Beside being the right size and shape, the stone must be tough enough to withstand the many blows it will have to deliver.” Unfortunately Kozak doesn’t mention what kind of stone the Héta men selected.
The hammerstone used for pecking the axe to shape it should be harder than the stone axe head. Nor does he mention the kind of stone selected for pecking.
Pecking and Shaping: “He spread his knees, brought the soles of his feet close together, and placed the ovoid stone between them. Then, taking the hammerstone in his hand, he began to peck. He pecked at the surface of the stone with light, carefully directed blows. No chips or flakes came off during the pecking, only fine granules. Little by little, the hard, water-polished cortex of the stone was completely removed, and the cobble was lightly pitted over its entire surface. Stone dust soon covered his hands and feet and accumulated on the mat beneath him.”
The pecking and shaping process took several days (number of hours are not mentioned). It was time-consuming, exhausting and required precision. One wrong whack could ruin the axe. As the author notes: “The work seemed endless to me, and I was beginning to see why Eirakan and the others had thought my request senseless.” I can sympathize.
Grinding and Polishing: Once pecking was completed, the men ground and polished the axe blade to sharpen it: “A large sandstone cobble was brought in for the purpose, along with some white clay, which Nango put into a water- filled container made from a folded palm spathe. He then took the ax head, dipped it into the container, held what was to be the cutting edge firmly against the sandstone with his hands, and began rubbing. He ground one side of the ax, turned it over, ground the other side, went back to the first side, and so on.” This step took an entire afternoon with Nango exerting considerable pressure on the grinding stone to sharpen the axe.
The axe blade is dipped in a wet clay solution and ground against a piece of sandstone held securely by the feet. The man uses both hands to apply downward pressure. The sandstone shapes the blade and the clay solution polishes it. Although Kozak doesn’t mention it, I’m assuming the polishing is meant to reduce the amount of friction when cutting. Also noteworthy, the grinding and pecking steps are not separate, but done together. Photograph courtesy of: https://acateamazon.org/forgotten-tribes/forgotten-tribes-amazon-heta-brazil/
Kozak states: “Under favorable conditions, the Hétacould make a stone ax in three to five days, with another half-day for hafting.”
The Héta used stone axes for felling trees, cracking nuts, chipping and breaking bones, grinding and hammering. They sharpened the end of the handle to drive into rotten trees to extract insect larvae or to dig out honey: “Pounded into the ground with a heavy stone, it made holes for shelter poles. It functioned as a digging stick and was used to excavate pit traps. And occasionally, when wielded as a club, the stone ax could be a dangerous weapon.” In short, the axe was an important multi-functional tool for the Héta.
The stone axe set in a wood handle with a sharpened end. The sharpened wood handle is used here to extract honey from a beehive. (Photograph courtesy of American Museum of Natural History, Vol. LXXXI, No.8, 1972)
Unlike the Australian Yir Yoront’s stone axes, there didn’t seem to be a ripple effect through the rest of Héta culture when they abandoned the stone axe in favor of the steel axe (for the Yir Yoront story go to this link: https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=2016&action=edit). But then Kozak wasn’t there to record all the details before and after the transition took place.
Controversy continues regarding the eventual adoption of metal tools by Indigenous Peoples around the world. Superior effectiveness and efficiency of metal versus stone tools top the list. Robert Carneiro has done a lot of work among Amazonian groups, including the Amahuaca Indians of Eastern Peru. He found it took seven-eight times longer to clear a patch for planting in the rain forest with a stone opposed to a steel axe. Others found there is only a slight difference in stone opposed to metal axe efficiency (a 1.4:1 ratio). I made a crude bifacially flaked stone hand axe to cut down a 10cm diameter tree. It took much longer than with a steel axe. Even if hafted with a more refined, thinner, sharper edge, the stone axe still would not have been as effective a cutting tool as a metal axe.
And then there’s the labour involved making stone axes or mauls. That too might have been a factor for choosing metal axes. I’m finding that out the hard way.
Back to the Grind
Recently, I worked on my maul for another four hours. At first, I tried to change grinding tactics. Instead of pushing a stone flake across the maul to cut the channel, I decided to take a page from the Héta. The Héta men used their feet to hold the sandstone abrader, essentially the reverse of what I was doing. They took the stone axe and ground it against the sandstone grinding stone. I held my maul between my knees and ground the flake against it. Why not reverse this process so I could apply more force when grinding?
I couldn’t use my feet to hold the grinding flake (besides being impractical, this position would have put me in bed for days), I put the stone grinding flake in a vice and then rubbed the stone maul against it; hopefully to create much more force and pressure. I’m quite certain there were no metal vices in Canadian prehistory, but there probably were vice-like devices for holding the abrader (flake or grinding stone) in place while rubbing the maul stone over it.
So, I tried it. It didn’t work. Well, at least not yet. Because my maul’s groove channel was so thin and shallow, I had trouble determining if I was in the groove while holding the maul upside down to grind it on the flake held by the vice. I tried a few times and finally gave up and went back to holding the flake to grind the maul held firmly between my knees. However, once the channel becomes deeper and wider, I’ll try this method again. This method should create a lot more downward grinding force and speed up the process. It can’t get much slower than it is now.
After Eight Hours of Work
Quartzite maul after eight hours of grinding.
After two more hours of grinding, and a total of eight hours of work, here are a few facts and things I learned.
I didn’t use sand in the groove as before. This likely would have gotten me tossed out of the house. It was too cold to work outside;
The length of the groove has not substantially changed (still about 9cm long);
The groove channel is now about 3mm wide;
The groove channel is about 1.5 – 2.0mm deep;
The edges of the grinding flake become smooth and highly polished after a certain amount of use. Once that happens the grinding flake is no longer effective. It just slides along the surface, not gripping it. At this point I either select a new flake or retouch the flake’s grinding edge by whacking it on the maul. Once retouched I can feel the flake grab in the maul groove again. Over a one-hour session, I retouched the flake 6 – 8 times;
Instead of using my feet to hold the maul in place while grinding it, I use both my knees and one hand to hold it firmly (holding it with my feet is out of the question). It’s hard to apply any force on it if it’s continually wobbling. Perhaps it would be more efficient to make a vice-like mechanism to hold the maul more firmly while applying pressure on the flake with both hands;
I also used flakes with broader edges and angles to widen the groove channel. I’m using two different sizes of flakes to accomplish my objective: A larger flake to broaden the groove and a thin, narrow flake to deepen it. Eventually, I want to create a 1cm – 1.5cm wide groove whose maximum depth is about 4mm – 5mm.
The shape and angularity of the grinding flake matters if you want to protect your fingers when applying a considerable grinding force. If sharp edges or pieces are jutting out anywhere you grab the flake, it will eventually hurt you.
After Ten Hours of Work
Quartzite maul after ten hours of grinding.
After ten hours of work, I feel slightly more encouraged, no longer thinking this project is hopeless. I seem to be working harder, too, as I can see actual progress being made. ‘Mind over matter’….If only that were true.
I’m also becoming a little possessive of the damned thing. As I labour away, I think about how devastating it would be if the maul broke or got lost. After all that work!
As I’m working, I also think back on the Australian Yir Yoront stone axes. The Yir Yoront traded for their stone axes, and the men then controlled who used them. Was this control an act of exerting power and authority over others (as the author suggests)? Or was this possessiveness related to the axes value – the amount of labour (through trade) it took to acquire the axe, which was not easily replaced?
A few more facts after 10 hours of work:
The groove channel is 6mm wide in some places. I aim to make it about 1.5cm wide;
In some places, the groove channel is now 3mm deep;
I’m using a wider and larger flake edge, which is beginning to grind away at the walls of the groove. The idea is to constantly increase the flake size as the groove gets deeper, to widen it.
Cross-section of cobble and grinding flake. The flake is wider than the bottom of the groove. When forced down the flake begins to abrade the sides of the groove, widening it.
I’ve also taken photographs of the flakes I used to grind the maul. I don’t see much edge retouch or any striations with the naked eye. But I do see the edges of the flake ground down and smoothed; and in some areas highly polished. There’s a whole raft of literature on stone tool microwear patterns made when using stone tools for cutting, grinding, and pounding different materials. Currently, I’m unaware if anyone has ever identified wear patterns from making ground stone tools. If the methods I’m describing to make this maul are similar to those made prehistorically, then we should see similar types of evidence in the archaeological record.
So, I’ll just describe what I saw under a magnifying glass. On one grinding flake, there’s a high degree of polish on the primary working surface – in this case, the narrow tip of the flake. There is some polish along the sides of the flake as well, but not nearly as intense as on the tip. At this level of magnification, I don’t see any other marks/striations on the flake working edge. I would need a low-power microscope to see those, if they exist.
The highly polished flake edge surface after grinding the maul groove in photographs A and B. A rejuvenation flake was removed from the polished surface of the grinding flake in photograph C. The grinding flake is now ready for more work.
I also managed to find the rejuvenation flake I knocked off while trying to retouch the edge on my grinding flake. This one is about 10mm by 7mm. The working edge of the rejuvenation flake (where it rubbed against the maul groove) is highly polished. It has some diagnostic flake attributes (striking platform, bulb of percussion, fissures, etc.). But, you would be hard-pressed to identify it as a flake with the naked eye.
The polished grinding edge of the rejuvenation flake was removed by striking it on the maul. Even though it’s small, the flake shows most of the attributes of a typical percussion flake (a striking platform and a bulb of percussion). However, unlike other flakes, it shows the highly polished grinding platform left over from grinding the maul groove. Unless you are looking closely, it would be easy to miss this type of evidence. In fact, with most of our screening methods, this flake, or anything smaller, might not even make it back to the laboratory.
And, once again, to remind all of you who are unfamiliar with quartzite, why my task is taking so long. Check out the image below. I tried knocking off some flakes from a frozen quartzite cobble with my hammer. Broke the hammer.
After attempting to smack off a few quartzite flakes from a cobblestone to use to grind my stone maul, and breaking my hammer, I had to take a much heavier stone quartzite hammerstone to eventually remove these flakes from the core. This cast-iron hammer didn’t have a chance. Quartzite is extremely hard. Right up there with steel. And harder than jade.
A Few Closing Thoughts
Below is a composite photograph showing my progress in grinding the maul for ten hours. I almost quit at hour four. It’s plain to see why.
As you can see, ten hours of grinding has produced a significant groove in the quartzite cobble (well, at least to my eyes). But I’m far from even finishing one side of the cobble. At this rate, it will take at least forty hours, or longer, of grinding to complete just one side.
In summary, there are only so many ways to speed up this process:
Increase the downward force exerted when grinding the groove. I could accomplish this by putting either the grinding flake or the maul in a vice and using both hands to push down harder while grinding;
Increase the grinding surface area of the flake. By using flakes that have a greater contact length with the grinding surface. This might work even better if I could also apply more force as well;
Speed up the number of grinding repetitions per minute. Not practical. I’d have to pump some weights and be forty years younger to do that.
I’ll write my next maul progress report after I have completed twenty hours of work. As the maul groove gets wider, I may also have some new insights on the grinding process to share with you.
Wooden statue of trader, mapmaker, Peter Fidler, Elk Point, Alberta, Canada. Fidler served at the nearby Hudson’s Bay Company Buckingham House (c.1792-1800), located along the North Saskatchewan River, just southeast of Elk Point. https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3529/3967919062_060d0fee79_z.jpg
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.
The remains of the last Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Edmonton (c.1830-1915), located on the Alberta legislature grounds. A fort, whose location was known by only a few historians and archaeologists. In a survey, conducted while excavating this fort in the early 1990s, we discovered that over 60% of the public had no idea the original fort was located on the current Alberta legislature grounds in the heart of Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.
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.
The confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Rivers today, near the Saskatchewan-Alberta border, Canada. Somewhere down there on the river flats are the remains of three fur trade forts, over two-hundred years old. Their whereabouts remains a mystery.
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.
If you enjoy learning about the archaeology of the Alberta fur trade, and Peter Fidler, explore the human side of the era in my new fiction collection, Tales of the Canadian Fur Trade. Available now as an ebook and a print-on-demand paperback
A map, by Peter Fidler, of the Upper Assiniboine and Swan Lake Regions. Fidler was a very accurate surveyor and cartographer. Not only did he map the lakes, rivers and important land features, he also accurately plotted the locations of the various fur trade post on those maps. This point becomes important later.Like David Thompson, Peter Fidler used a line-track survey method when mapping the South Saskatchewan River. He would take a compass bearing and then estimate a distance to map that part of the river. This is part of Fidler’s survey of the South Saskatchewan River, up to the confluence of the Red Deer River, superimposed over today’s South Saskatchewan River route. Based on these and other evidence, we assume that Fidler was an accurate surveyor, especially calculating latitude.
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.
The South Saskatchewan River Valley near Empress. So beautiful with its wide open prairie expanses and bright blue skies.
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.
This photograph was taken from the east looking towards the forks of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers. Fidler’s two references to the fort’s location are pretty specific. At first I thought he might have built on the island you see in this image which is in front (east) of the juncture of the two rivers. But then in the second quote he specifically says they built on the north side of the river(s). The ‘Bad’ River refers to the South Saskatchewan River. But Fidler has some reservations building on this spot: “Crossed the river to north side and looked out for a place to build at. The woods here are few and bad for building with.” (From Alice Johnson 1967:268. Saskatchewan Journals and Correspondence 1795 – 1802. The Hudson’s Bay Record Society, Volume XXVI) So, Fidler either moved to where there was more suitable wood to build with or he cut wood from elsewhere and hauled it to the junction of the two rivers.
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.
A satellite image of the confluence of the two rivers. The problem with river confluences, is that they can move. You can see the old Red Deer River channels in this image (shown in dark green). At one point in time it flowed into the South Saskatchewan River further north. Some researchers believed this was the original confluence in 1800 and looked for the forts in that area. But, Fidler’s 50o, 55’, 5” (50.9222o) is much closer to the present confluence than to the northern older one. Peter Fidler’s longitude for the confluence of the rivers was out a considerable distance. Not unusual in those days when highly accurate time pieces were required to estimate how far west from Greenwich Mean time you were located. Fidler’s latitude however, was remarkably accurate, being approximately 15″ or +/- 450 metres out.
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…”
This particular map of the western prairies, shows the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers, with a dot depicting the location of Chesterfield House. That dot is east of the forks on the north bank of the South Saskatchewan River. It likely refers to the later post built by the HBC downriver from the forks in 1821 (which also has never been found). (https://earlycanadianhistory.ca/2018/06/18/what-peter-fidler-didnt-report/)
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.
A map drawn by Fidler’s Blackfoot informant Ak ko Wee ak in 1802. Fidler wrote the names of places on the map. On that map there is a straight vertical line across the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers. If the line represents where the fort was built, then Chesterfield House was located some distance (distance unknown, because there is no scale) up the Red Deer River. (From HBCA PAM: E.3/2 fos. 103d)On this map, drawn by Fidler’s informant, Ak ko mok ki, in 1802, there is a little drawing of Chesterfield House located on the north side of the river(s). But its location is very general. The fort could be anywhere within miles of the forks. (From HBCA B.39/a/2 fo.93)
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?
Peter Fidler’s latitude projected onto a current map of the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers. The orange dashed lines represent the margins of error around his calculations. The orange elliptical shapes are where other archaeologists have searched for the lost forts. The blue elliptical shapes are where no one has searched but are well within Peter Fidler’s margin of error for latitude.Peter Fidler’s latitude for Chesterfield House, and margins of error, superimposed on a current satellite image of the area. The small yellow rectangle represents the area we are interested in and will discuss shortly. The other dashed line further north is another area archaeologists searched for the forts. The latitude of this area is well beyond Fidler’s margins of error.
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?
Searching for rock historic building chimney piles in the dense bush on the lower terraces of the Red Deer River. In some places visibility is poor and walking is tough. Currently there is no LIDAR (laser imaging, detection, and ranging coverage) for this area, which would help immensely to expose detailed surface ground contouring and possible evidence of the sites.
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.
A late 19th century chimney and fireplace, built by trappers, the Adsett brothers, still stands in one of the local farmyards in the area. The former Metis settlement of Riviere La Biche, was located around the confluence of the South Saskatchewan and Red Deer Rivers. People built chimneys and fireplaces, similar to these, during the early fur trade. These and other building remains, such as cellars, would be indistinguishable from one another without detailed archaeological exploration. However, unlike the Metis cabins which are scattered over a large area, the Chesterfield House forts, and their buildings, were built in a smaller area, surrounded by stockades.
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.
This is the image of the Red Deer River flats on one of the meanders that I first looked at. At this height do you see what I see? Or, do I just have an supercharged imagination?
Here is a closer view of the satellite image. Do you see the long rectangle, lightly highlighted, oriented in a northeast-southwest direction in this image? Quite often simple aerial photography and other types of imagery can pick up features from the air, not seen on the ground by the naked eye.
This is the feature I see when looking the the satellite image. The long rectangle is relatively well-pronounced. The other lines to the west are not as definite. The NWC and HBC were built together, enclosed in a common stockade, which is explains the long, rectangular outline. Fidler states the XY Company built just west of his fort.
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.
The area in question, where the long rectangular outline in the satellite photograph appears. Slightly elevated, the area contains little shrubbery, as was also the case in 2005.
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.
Walking along the elevated ridge on the east side of the rectangle. This could be an old river terrace edge. The south edge is also elevated. However, there are no visible surface signs of anything where the west and north lines occur on the satellite image.
A small scatter of rocks. Possibly the remnants of a fireplace. But from what time period? Remember, this is a floodplain and rocks don’t float. So, it’s not a natural event. This definitely is evidence of human activities.
Gabriella Prager taking notes and GPS coordinates of a small depression on the site.
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.
