Our visit to the Glaumbaer farmstead, northern Iceland, in Spring, 2022. This farmstead dates back to the 18th and 19th centuries, consisting of a complex of rooms joined by a central hall. The buildings are made of sod and driftwood. They represent a northern method of building construction that goes back to the 9th century when the Vikings first settled in Iceland. And even earlier among other northern cultures in other countries.
I have a certain affinity for architecture. It talks of the history and origins of a people. While on vacation in Iceland this spring we visited the Glaumbær turf house in Skagafjörður, northwestern Iceland. What surprised me was there was a possible Canadian connection.
Turf in Antiquity
Humans built turf buildings for centuries. In Norway, Scotland, Ireland, Faeroe Islands, Greenland, other parts of Northern Europe (such as the Netherlands), northern Canada and on the Great Plains in western Canada and the USA. The earliest known turf houses in Scotland date back to 4,000 B.C. Turf buildings were built at Dun Nosebridge (an Iron Age fort on Islay), at Roman forts along the Antonine Wall, at Culloden Moor and at St. Kilda.
The turf house was spread across northern Europe. Left: Irish turf house (c.1905) northern Ireland.1 Right: Scottish turf house, at Ness, Isle of Lewis, in the late 1940s.2Left: A turf house in Qassiarsuk, Greenland.3 Right: Beret Hagebak’s turf house, east of Madison, Minnesota, in Lac qui Parle County, ca. 1896.4
Tenth Century Turf House Beneath Reykjavik, Iceland
Reykjavik, Iceland’s capital city, was one of the first areas settled by the Norse. They likely chose it for its resources but also because of its good natural harbour.
When visiting I noticed a glass portal on the sidewalk outside our hotel. When I peered down, people were walking around a display two metres below me. Archaeologists had uncovered the remains of a turf longhouse dating back to approximately 1,000 A.D.
Although built nearly a thousand years earlier than the Glaumbær turf house, the two dwellings were similar in construction. The turf was usually the main material used to construct the building walls but also to cover the timber framed roof. Stones were used with or without the turf for the walls. Even slate was used as an underlay for the roof.
This completely excavated turf house lies under the streets of today’s Reykjavik. Having thick turf walls, wooden framework, and stones for flooring and the hearth, its construction is similar to the Glaumbaer farmstead. An entire museum was built around it two metres beneath Reykjavik’s streets. The bottom right photograph shows what the building once looked like facing Reykjavik’s harbor.
But what changed, since the Norse built the first turf houses in Iceland, was the layout of the two structures. Instead of being essentially one long enclosure or longhouse, where multiple tasks were performed, later farmsteads were comprised of separate rooms, each with a specific purpose, joined by a hallway.
The layout of the turf house changed in Iceland and elsewhere over the centuries. The Reykjavik longhouse on the left was mostly one large room where all household activities took place and where extended families lived together. By the 18th century the farmsteads were divided up into smaller buildings each with a special function. The entire complex was often joined together by a common hall or corridor.5
Glaumbær Farmstead
This historic farmstead, and the people who lived here, have a possible Canadian connection. Snorri Þorfinnsson and his parents lived in another area below this farmstead in the 11th century. Snorri was the son of Guðríður Þorbjarnardóttir, who was the widow of Þorsteinn, who was Erik the Red’s son and the brother of Leif the Lucky, who discovered America. If the Icelandic Sagas are correct, then Snorri was the first European born in the Americas and possibly at L’Anse aux Meadows on the northern tip of Newfoundland.
The building turf walls are over a metre thick providing good insulation during the winter months. Our Icelandic guide could not explain the reason for the curious oblique sod stacking method (far right). Poles down the center corridor supported the roof superstructure (center).
People lived in this farmstead until 1947 when it was turned over to the National Museum of Iceland. Others like it still exist scattered throughout Iceland and other northern countries, including Canada.
The Glaumbær turf house was divided into sixteen rooms, each one having a specific function: storage (left); kitchen (center); and, bedroom (right). A family’s wealth was often measured in the number of rooms a farmstead contained. The Glaumbaer house contained three guest rooms. When reading the Icelandic Sagas, entertaining and housing guests, often for the whole winter, was not uncommon for wealthy landowners.
While the Icelandic economy was based primarily on fishing, sheep and cattle (north) were also very important. Many of the rooms and artifacts represent the farming industry and the importance of wool in Icelandic culture.
Iceland is renowned for its wool industry, an important component of its culture for centuries. In the spring, when the new lambs are born (usually two to an ewe), sheep outnumber the Icelandic population of approximately 375,000.
L’Anse aux Meadows Viking Turf Houses
Icelanders built turf houses, similar to the Reykjavik longhouse, on the northern tip of Newfoundland around 1,000 A.D. Some of those families may have originated from northern Iceland and at an earlier Glaumbær Farmstead.
Leif Eriksson, or ‘Leif the Lucky’, born in Iceland is credited for finding the New World, around 1,000 A.D. There is a possibility, although not verified by archaeological evidence, that the Vikings made earlier voyages before him. Regardless of which version is correct, the Vikings did settle at L’Anse aux Meadows around that time and built their turf buildings. This map on the left shows the archaeological remains present at L’anse aux Meadows. The longhouse, divided into several rooms, resembled other Viking longhouses built around the same time, in northern Europe, Greenland and Iceland. 6These reconstructed buildings, based on the archaeological evidence, are similar to the early Icelandic and Greenland longhouses. If they are contemporaneous to one another, then at least three extended family units lived along the northern shores of the province. 7
Inuit Turf Dwellings
Long before the Vikings arrived in Newfoundland, the Inuit had already occupied the northern Arctic. The archaeological evidence indicates that they first settled the Arctic around 3,950 B. C. And some of that archaeological evidence suggests that they and other Inuit in Labrador and Greenland used turf to build their shelters.
The Dorset8 culture oval-shaped winter house exhibit in the Canadian Museum of History excavated on Ellesmere Island was built in the following manner: “The foundation was dug ten to fifty centimetres deep into dry soil or gravel, to provide insulation and protection from the wind. The walls were built using the material dug from the house floor, supplemented by boulders and insulating blocks of turf.”9
Thule 10 people built perhaps the most impressive winter dwellings. According to Robert Park, an arctic archaeologist, the Thule winter house superstructure was built of whalebone, “…especially mandibles (jawbones) and ribs. The rafters would have been covered with skins and then with turf and rocks, forming a thick insulating roof.” 11
Left: Partially reconstructed Thule house, Naalakkersuisut, Greenland 12. Center: Excavation of Thule House by Robert W. Park 11. Right: Reconstruction illustration of floor plan and profile of Thule winter House 13
My wife, Gabriella Prager, an Arctic archaeologist, took photos of some recent Inuit semi-subterranean sod houses near Clyde River, Baffin Island.
Often these structures had rock-lined semi-subterranean entrances with a rock base. This one is thought to be of Thule origin.This structure is more recent, being built within the last one-hundred years and was also likely at partially sod-covered.
‘Soddies’ on the Canadian Prairies
Early settlers from northern European countries built sod or turf houses on the North American prairies. They built with sod because they had some knowledge of this type of construction (which Scandinavian and northern European immigrants possessed). And sod of sufficient quality existed on the Canadian prairies to build them. Those reasons, coupled with often initially having little lumber to build with, resulted in the prairie turf house, or ‘soddie’, as it was lovingly named.
Left: Sod House, Hamiota, Manitoba, Canada, 1880s.14 Right: Sod House, Elk Point, Alberta, Canada.15 Many of these dwellings were temporary until there was sufficient lumber to build a wooden structure. However, in terms of insulation efficiency, the ‘soddie’ with its thick walls would have been superior as a winter abode.The James Addison sod house, near Kindersley, Saskatchewan, Canada. Perhaps one of the best preserved original sod houses in western Canada. Top left photograph of the house in 1929. Bottom right photograph of the house, clad in vinyl today. Addison built his house to last. Instead of building straight walls, his walls were sloped, four feet at the base, tapering to three feet at the top. By overlapping his sod ‘bricks’ and tapering the walls, his ‘soddie’ didn’t collapse as so many others did. For the complete story on the James Addison sod house, go to this site.16
When working for the Government of Alberta, I visited this sod house in east-central Alberta. A story I have already posted on elsewhere but worth repeating here.17 At the time this still standing soddie was being considered for National Historic designation (not sure if it ever was designated) since it’s such a rare sight in the 21st century.
This wood framed house, with sod infill for walls, was built in east-central Alberta. Perhaps one of the most unique houses I have ever seen. According to Government of Alberta files: 1907 – Homestead filed and smaller sod house built; 1910 – House built; 1911 – Exterior plastered with lime and sand, and interior finished with Beaverboard; 1950 – last occupied. (Photographs and information Courtesy of Historic Sites Service, Government of Alberta, Canada)
A close-up view of the sod infill used to fashion the walls of this house. The sod was then covered with plaster and beaverboard. Unfortunately, this exposed part of the wall now makes for a great nesting area for barn swallows. As with straw bale wall construction, the trick here is to completely seal the wall to prevent rodents or other critters from getting in. (Photographs and information Courtesy of Historic Sites Service, Government of Alberta, Canada)
Canada derives its architecture from numerous ethnic groups. What people choose for building material, construction method, and layout was often determined by a combination of things: 1) available materials and environment; 2) one’s skill and ethnic background; and, 3) occasionally one’s ingenuity in adding to traditional designs and construction methods to produce something just slightly different.
The antiquity of the turf or sod house is considerable, found on several continents, over countless millennia, and a home for many cultures. I’ll leave the last words about human architecture to American folklorist, Henry Glassie, when talking about Virginia folk housing:
“Any artifact that can be provided with associations in space and time, either by being accompanied by a document or better – as with gravestones or buildings – by being set into the land, is a valuable source of a great quantity of information.”18
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.
“These tents, also their kettles, and some other lumber, are always carried by dogs, which are trained to that service, and very docile and tractable….These dogs are equally willing to haul in a sledge, but as few of the men will be at the trouble of making sledges for them, the poor women are obliged to content themselves with lessening the bulk of their load, more than the weight, by making the dogs carry these articles only, which are always lashed on their backs, much after the same manner as are, or used to be on, packhorses.” – Samuel Hearne, 1770s traveling with the Chipewyan. (From Hearne, S., 1958. A Journey to the Northern Ocean. Edited by R. Glover. Toronto: The Macmillan Company of Canada Limited)
I was shocked when I first read Samuel Hearne’s account of dogs among the Chipewyan of northwestern Canada. That image in my mind of the gallant team of husky dogs pulling a sled laden with goods and its musher over Canada’s frozen northern expanses was tarnished a little.
According to ethnohistorian, Dr. Patricia McCormack, in the western Subarctic the long dog train was mostly a fur trade thing, although more common in the high arctic among the Inuit long before Europeans found the New World: “In the pre-fur trade days, it was mostly women and girls, [among the Mackenzie Basin Dene] not dogs, who hauled the sleds.” (Patricia McCormack 2020:112, In Dogs in the North, Stories of Cooperation and Co-Domestication. Routledge; brackets mine).
Compare Hearne’s description of the Chipewyan dogs to this rather majestic painting of the Chipewyan hunter coming to Fort Prince of Wales in 1734 with his team of large dogs pulling a sled. Not only is the accuracy of the dog team pulling a sled this early questionable, as we shall see even the type of domestic dogs used by the Chipewyan in this painting may be inaccurate. (Painting by A. H. Hider, for a Hudson’s Bay Company Calendar, 1921)
In this post I’ll try to answer what role dogs played among Indigenous People and first Europeans in Canada? What did they look like? How long have domestic dogs been in the Americas? What historical evidence (oral, written or archaeological) exists to shed some light on their use and association with humans?
I first became interested in this topic (not only because I’m an avid dog lover) when putting together an exhibit on travel in the fur trade for our new Royal Alberta Museum. And then more recently for a novel of historical fiction I have been working on. My research revealed the history of dogs in Canada is complex. Even partly obscure. It turns out I was also getting some basic facts wrong!
This painting by famous western artist Paul Kane captures the three main modes of land travel the Cree used in the western Canadian park lands near the North Saskatchewan River, in the middle of the 19th century. Walking, riding, with horses and dogs pulling their belongings on travois. Everyone – men, women, children, horses and dogs – pitched in to move from one place to another.Plains First Nations Peoples did not use dogs to pull sleds but instead to pull travois laden with belongings and children during the summer months. But, was that all they used them for?
In this post I’ll examine some key works that shed light on the prehistory and history of dogs in Canada. Then I’ll add my two cents worth on what I’ve learned about the fur trade dogs based on the written historic and archaeological evidence I’ve examined.
Indigenous Peoples’ Dogs in Canadian Antiquity
The Prehistoric Archaeological Record
Here’s the first thing I got wrong about domestic dogs in the Americas. They weren’t originally domesticated in the Americas. According to recent evidence and theories, the first domestic dogs arrived in the Americas, probably across Beringia (land once connecting Asia and North America, now the Bering Strait) with humans. And they may have arrived very early.
In a recent article, archaeologist, Daryl Fedje and colleagues conclude from archaeological evidence recovered from Haida Gwaii, British Columbia, Canada, that the, “…domestic dog was present on Haida Gwaii by ca. 13,100 years ago…. The haplotype D6 premolar is from one of the oldest domestic dogs known from the Americas and its radiocarbon age and DNA results suggest association with a founding population.” (From Daryl Fedje, Quentin Mackie, Duncan McLaren, Becky Wigen, John Southon, 2021. “Karst Caves in Haida Gwaii: Archaeology and Paleontology at the Pleistocene-Holocene Transition.” In Quaternary Science Reviews 272.)
So, the first domestic dogs arrived in the Americas with humans. But why bring them along? And were dogs used for only pulling sleds? It appears not. By the time Europeans arrived in the New World, Indigenous cultures in the Americas used dogs for herding, hauling, hunting, wool for garments, spiritual endeavors, and companionship. Just how much of this diversification of breeds and function occurred in the Americas, as opposed to what was originally brought over from Asia, is still unknown.
And among many cultures the dog was occasionally a source of food. Either because of necessity or preference. Such as at Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump in southern Alberta, Canada.
The following quote is from the link below: “In September 2016, Royal Alberta Museum archaeologists dug up a 1,600-year-old roasting pit at Head-Smashed-In-Buffalo Jump in southern Alberta. Notes from the crew: “In the foreground the edge of the roasting pit extends out of the excavation – this is what we first saw in 1990. You can see the big rocks that lined the base of the pit, plus some bison bones just above those. This meal was prepared 1,600 years ago by digging a hole, lining it with big rocks, burning a hot wood fire on the rock in the pit and let it burn down to coals, a layer of willows or similar wet brush laid on the coals, meat – in this case a bison calf and a dog placed on the brush, another layer of brush on the meat, a thin layer of dirt covered the brush and a hot fire built on top of that. It was normally allowed to cook overnight and by all accounts was tasty and tender in the morning. According to one account, bison calf cooked this way was the best food you ever tasted. In this case nobody got to taste it because the pit was mysteriously never reopened.” Courtesy: Royal Alberta Museum.”This story was first reported by Brenton Driedger, 630 CHED. For the full story go to this link. https://globalnews.ca/news/3179491/royal-alberta-museum-to-crack-open-1600-year-old-roasting-pit-with-meal-still-inside/
As my former colleague Bob Dawe of the Royal Alberta Museum pointed out when excavating this feature:
“I have a dog, and I’m sure my dog would be unhappy to hear that I’m digging up one of his ancestors….A lot of dog-lovers are a little concerned that a dog was part of the meal, and as a dog lover myself I find that a little bit bothersome, but people have been using dogs as food in the Americas for 10,000 years and they still use dogs as food all over the world.” (Bob Dawe, Royal Alberta Museum)
One would think then that after 13,000 years there should be a number of Canadian Indigenous dog breeds remaining? Currently the Canadian Kennel Club recognizes only a few ‘Canadian’ dog breeds: 1)Tahltan bear dog; 2) Canadian Inuit dog; 3) Nova Scotia duck-tolling retriever; 4) Newfoundland dog; and, 5) Labrador retriever. You can find more information about these dog breeds at this link: (https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/dog).
Only the first two breeds may be ancient, belonging to Indigenous Peoples. I’ll touch upon a few of them and then discuss Canadian Indigenous dog breeds and strains that no longer exist, and ones that emerged during the fur trade in central and western North America.
Tahltan Hunting Dogs
Among the Tahltan People of British Columbia, Canada the bear dog was an important hunting companion. In 1915, ethnographer Jame Teit pointed out they were: “…as indispensable to the Tahltan as snowshoes.”
“If you had a bear dog you could find game. If you didn’t have a bear dog, you starved.”
The historic bear dog of the Tahltan People of British Columbia, Canada, commemorated on a Canadian stamp in 1988. The dog was small, feisty, intelligent and incredibly brave and used to primarily hunt bears but also other larger game. (Courtesy Canadian Encyclopedia, https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/tahltan-bear-dog#)
Although the history is somewhat murky, this breed probably went extinct sometime in the late 1970s or 80s.
According to explorer Captain George Vancouver, when arriving on Canada’s west coast in 1792, Coastal Salish People kept Pomeranian-like dogs:
“They were all shorn as close to the skin as sheep are in England; and so compact were their fleeces, that large portions could be lifted up by a corner without causing any separation….very fine long hair [was] capable of being spun into yarn…This gave me reason to believe their woolen clothing might in part be composed of this [dog] material mixed with a finer kind of wool from some other animal …”
Central Coast Salish People weaving blankets from the wool of a little white ‘spitz-like’ dog kept specifically for that purpose. Painting by Paul Kane, 1856.
Excavations of buried house sites in the 1970s at the Makah village of Ozette on the westernmost point of today’s Olympic Peninsula in Washington State, uncovered evidence of weaving including a perfectly preserved blanket. Examination under a scanning electron microscope, revealed that dog hair was part of the weave. (Photo courtesy of the Burke Museum)
However the relationship between their blankets and their dogs was much more personal for the Salish People. Chief Janice George, who resurrected weaving among the Squamish Nation, writes:
“You should think about blankets as merged objects….They are alive because they exist in the spirit world. They are the animal. They are part of the hunter; they are part of the weaver; they are part of the wearer.”
Unfortunately this dog breed continually declined throughout the 19th century. By c.1900 it too was extinct.
Among the Inuit People, dogs were not only used for travel and hauling goods, they were also important for hunting, especially the dangerous polar bear. The Inuit hunted the large bear with long spears/lances while the dogs constantly harassed the bear to distract it.
I recently found this informative article by Thom “Swanny” Swan entitled, “Sled Dogs of the Early Canadian Fur Trade.” (http://oldschoolak.blogspot.com/2018/07/sled-dogs-of-early-canadian-fur-trade.html). In it he quotes missionary Egerton R. Young’s description of the Canadian Inuit Dog: “The pure Eskimo dog is not devoid of beauty. His compact body, well furred; his sharp-pointed, alert-looking ears; his fox-like muzzle; his good legs and firm, hard feet; his busy tail, of which he often seems so proud; and his bright, roguish eyes, place him in no mean position among the other dogs of the world. His colour varies from the purest white to jet black. I owned two so absolutely white that not a coloured hair could be found on either of them…. The working weight of my Eskimo dogs ranged from sixty to a hundred and thirty pounds. It seemed rather remarkable that some of the lighter dogs were quite equal in drawing power to others that were very much larger and heavier.” (From Young, E., 1902. My Dogs in the Northland. Fleming H. Revell Company; New York, Chicago, Toronto.)
In 1749, Peter Kalm also described Inuit dogs in Labrador: “For many centuries past they have had dogs whose ears are erected, and never hang down. They make use of them for hunting, and instead of horses in winter, for drawing their goods on the ice. They themselves sometimes ride in sledges drawn by dogs. They have no other domestic animal.” (From Kalm, P., 1772. Travels Into North America: John R, Forster, translator: Volume II: T. Lowdes, London.)
Among many western Plains Indigenous Peoples, dogs carried goods on their backs or pulled goods packed on travois. Even with the advent of the horse, dogs remained important among many Indigenous cultures, especially in northern environs where horses often struggled in the wintertime. But what kind of dogs were they? What did they look like and where did they come from?
This historic photograph taken near Fort Walsh, Saskatchewan, Canada sometime between 1878 – 1882, depicts First Nations People using both horse- and dog-drawn travois (foreground) in the summer months. (Courtesy of the Glenbow Archives, NA-354-24)
Other Canadian Dogs No Longer With Us
Hare ‘Indian’ Dog
Patricia McCormack argues that the domestic dogs among the western Mackenzie Delta Dene were nothing like the later breeds used during the fur trade specifically for hauling large loads. Or like the Arctic pulling dogs. They were built for carrying, not pulling: “…there were probably few or no sled dogs before Europeans arrived in the Subarctic.” (From McCormack 2020:107).
Historic descriptions of Indigenous dogs of the Subarctic do not resemble later dogs in the fur trade, or the Arctic Inuit dogs. These dogs were of, “…various sizes and colours, but all of the fox and wolf breed, with sharp noses, full brushy tails, and sharp ears standing erect…” (Samuel Hearne, 1770s describing Chipewyan dogs. From Hearne, 1958).
According to John Richardson, traveling among the Dene in 1829:
The Hare Indian Dog has a mild countenance, with, at times, an expression of demureness. It has a small head, slender muzzle; erect, thickish ears; somewhat oblique eyes; rather slender legs, and broad hairy foot, with a bushy tail, which it usually carries curled over its right hip. It is covered with long hair, particularly about the shoulder, and at the roots of the hair, both on the body and tail, there is thick wool.” (Dr. John Richardson, 1829. In Fauna Boreali-Americana; or the Zoology of the Northern Parts of British America. London: John Murray)
Richardson provides considerably more detail on the breed, but fortunately also provides us with a detailed drawing what it looked like.
Hare Indian Dog sketched by Dr. John Richardson, 1829.
Patricia McCormack thinks: “The Hare Indian Dog may have resembled a small Siberian Husky or very small Alaskan Malamute.” Richardson stated this dog was used primarily for hunting, “…being too small to be useful as a beast of burthen or draught.” (Richardson 1829).
North American Dog
The North American Dog is more associated with northern Plains Indigenous Peoples and Peoples living in the southern parts of the Subarctic. According to McCormack, the size of this dog was somewhere between the Inuit dogs and Hare Indian dogs. It was not as strong as the Inuit dog and less affectionate than the Hare Indian dogs.
Image of a Blackfoot dog, similar to the North American Dog, pulling a travois. “The fur of the North American Dog is similar to that of the Esquimaux breed and of the wolves. The prevailing colours are black and gray, mixed with white. Some of them are entirely black. Their thick woolly coat forms an admirable protection against the cold.” (From https://images.library.amnh.org/digital/items/show/25587)
Image of an Arikara dog, c. 1880s. (Courtesy of North American Indian Photograph Collection. MS 35)
McCormack thinks by fur trade times this type of dog (perhaps later interbred with heavier European breeds) eventually pulled sleds, carried loads and occasionally was eaten by French Canadian Voyageurs and First Nations Peoples. Northern Indigenous Peoples only started using sled dogs in the 19th century. For example, according to George Franklin, the Dog Rib People of the Mackenzie River District started using dogs to pull sleds between 1824 and 1826.
For more information on the Mackenzie River Basin dogs, read McCormack’s excellent chapter entitled, “An Ethnohistory of dogs in the Mackenzie Basin (Western Subarctic).” In Dogs in the North, Stories of Cooperation and Co-Domestication. Routledge.
Dogs in the Fur Trade
I had one other question (aside from what they looked like and where they came from) about the fur trade dogs pulling sleds. Where did the fur traders learn to use dogs to carry or pull sleds? If dogs teams pulling sleds in the fur trade didn’t originate among western Indigenous Peoples living on the Canadian Plains and Subarctic, then where did the practice come from? From the research Thom Swan conducted, French Canadians used dog teams to pull sleds as early as the late 1600s.
This historic image reveals a lot about winter conditions and travel in the Canadian West. For many months of the year the canoe, which was instrumental in traveling to the Canadian northwest, was not always the way to go. Nor were horses. Dogs, especially during the wintertime, became a very important form of transportation. (Courtesy of the Glenbow Archives, NA-1185-13)
For example, in 1688-89 LaHontan observed sleds “drawn by great dogs” in Quebec. By the 18th century sled dogs became even more important in French Canada. According to Peter Kalm in 1749: “In winter it is customary in Canada, for travellers to put dogs before little sledges, made on purpose to hold their cloathes, provisions, &c. Poor people commonly employ them on their winter-journies, and go on foot themselves. Almost all the wood, which the poorer people in this country fetch out of the woods in winter, is carried by dogs, which have therefore got the name of horses of the poor people. They commonly place a pair of dogs before each load of wood. I have, likewise seen some neat little sledges, for ladies to ride in, in winter; they are drawn by a pair of dogs, and go faster on a good road, than one would think. A middle-sized dog is sufficient to draw a single person, when the roads are good.” (From Kalm, P., 1772. Travels Into North America: John R, Forster, translator: Volume II: T. Lowdes, London.)
Many French Canadians came west with the fur trade in the late 18th century possibly bringing with them the practice of dog sledding. This however begs the question. Where did they pick up the practice since it certainly didn’t originate in Europe? According to some authorities, they learned of it from the Inuit People who had more actively practiced it for centuries. In fact as Kalm’s earlier quote suggests French Canadians adopted it from Inuit People in Labrador.
It was from these Indigenous dog strains, especially the North American dog eventually mixed with European breeds to make them bigger and stronger, that the fur trade dog emerged. Loads became bigger, requiring larger, stronger and more dogs. Winter on the Canadian prairies and northern boreal forests were harsh. Horses were not as tough, tractable or as fast as a good dog team. And special provisions (hay and shelter) were required for them to survive during the severe Canadian winters.
There are numerous quotes and images about dogs in the fur trade. Some of the most insightful and humorous ones come from people visiting the 19th century Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Edmonton, in central Alberta, Canada. Fort Edmonton had one of the largest dog populations in the West. It was one of the few forts I know of that had separate dog kennels and even a dog handler or keeper. As some of the following statements suggest, both good and bad things came from this ‘cozy’ arrangement.
For example, in 1862 Alexander Fortune commented on the importance of the Edmonton dogs: “In the Fort were some six hundred dogs belonging to the Company or their employees. Dogs were used on toboggans by the Company and in case of failure of buffalo meat, dogs were used for food. They were held in great esteem there. In fact they were often used in place of horses, taking in provisions from the plains, when the snow was too crusted or unfit for horses to travel. Such howling and barking as these dogs indulged in was terrifying and disagreeable.” (From: Fortune, A. L., The Overland Trip from Ontario to Edmonton 1862. University of British Columbia, Special Collections and University Archives.)
Further north along the Peace River, at Fort St. John’s in 1822, the one horse the HBC owned languished in the barn most of the winter while dog teams hauled back thousands of pounds of meat to feed the fort population. “They are a long way off, this man has been six days coming….A long way to go for meat….when living themselves and their dogs for so long time on their way.” (December 24th, 1822, HBC Fort St. John’s Journals)
The Earl of Southesk, while visiting Fort Edmonton, also mentioned the large pack of fort dogs. His description suggests that the fort strains were large, resembling wolves:
“There are more dogs here than any other place I know. They are mostly of the Indian kind, large, and long-legged, and wolfish, with sharp muzzles, pricked ears, and thick, straight, wiry hair….Most of them are very wolfish in appearance, many being half or partly, or all but entirely wolves in blood….” (From: Southesk, J. C., 1875. Saskatchewan and Rocky Mountains: A Diary and Narrative of Travel, Sport, and Adventure, During a Journey Through the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Territories in 1859 and 1860. Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas)
Southesk continues to describe how important a dog team was for hauling goods:
“In winter these dogs draw sleighs and do nearly all of the work of the country….they are highly valued by their owners, and a team of fine, good, well-trained dogs will bring a handsome price, especially when the winter snows begin to come on.” (Early of Southesk, 1859)
In fact, according to missionary John McDougall, despite the constant howling and fighting among the dogs at Fort Edmonton, all the men could think about was their dogs: “The sole topic of conversation would be dogs. The speed and strength and endurance of a dogtrain occupied the thoughts of most men, either sleeping or waking.” (From: McDougall, J., 1971. Parsons on the Plains. Don Mills: Longman Canada Ltd.)
In the fur trade the dogs’ main purpose was to move goods, people and information from one place to another. Messages, letters and other types of information were carried by dog teams to the various western forts. Paul Kane describes these trains and the manner of sledding: “Two men go before [the lead dog] on the run in snowshoes to beat a track, which the dogs instinctively follow: these men are relieved every two hours, as it is very laborious.…We had three carioles and six sledges, with four dogs to each, forming when en route a long and picturesque cavalcade.” Painting by Paul Kane, 1848, of a wedding party leaving Fort Edmonton.
A dog team in front of the Big House, HBC Fort Edmonton, December, 1871. A good team of dogs was indispensable in the winter time. These dogs resemble more the North American dog than the Inuit dogs (Photograph by Charles Horetzky, Library and Archives of Canada, c-7474.)A depiction of the HBC’s Fort Edmonton, c.1865, showing the dog kennels located in the southwest corner of the fort. According to a number of informants, if the constant barking and howling wasn’t enough to drive you mad, the stench exuding from keeping over 100 dogs in the forts was certainly the last straw. While the later fort had an enclosed area for the dogs, Alexander Ross visiting Fort Edmonton in 1823, seems to imply the entire fort acted as a ‘kennel’: “…the wife might go without her blanket; but the husband must have his dogs, and the dogs their ribbons and their bells!…The custom, however reprehensible in this point of view, is equally so in others; for the nuisance of their presence in a fort is beyond endurance; they are the terror of every woman and child after dark. Nor can a stranger step from one door to another without being interrupted by them; and, worst of all, the place is kept like a kennel; in wet weather the horrid stench is intolerable.” (Journal of Alexander Ross, 1855, Fur Hunters of the Canadian West: A Narrative of Adventures in Oregon and Rocky Mountains.)
A good team of dogs became a source of pride and prestige in fur trade society. Even by the 1820s in the Peace River Country, fort employees while traveling, preferred starvation over eating their precious dog team: “Two men arrived from New Caledonia on the 15th they were 21 days coming starved very much reduced to eating shoes and even a pair of leather Trousers one of them had.” (February 6th, 1823, HBC Fort St. John’s Journals)
And eventually these mushers began racing their dogs to see who had the fastest team. In the 1870s Metis, Peter Erasmus, describes preparations for dog races below Fort Edmonton on the frozen North Saskatchewan River. They attracted some of the best dog ‘mushers’ in the Canadian West: “The preparations the week before Christmas took on a new tempo of activity. Every dog driver and team were rushing supplies of fish to the fort for the dog trains of the expected visitors….The two days before Christmas was a bedlam of noise as each new dog team arrived. Every arrival was a signal for all the dogs of the fort and those of the Crees camped nearby to raise their voices in a deafening uproar of welcome or defiance as their tempers dictated…” (From: Erasmus, P., 1976. Buffalo Days and Nights. Calgary: Glenbow-Alberta Institute.)
Painting of dog teams meeting by Frederick Remington. Remington painted northern scenes (some as far north as Lac La Biche, Alberta, Canada) during the 19th century. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, NA-1185-10)
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.
The Dog’s New Role in the Fur Trade – Speed and Endurance
As the fur trade spread across northwestern Canada, not only were dogs indispensable for hauling goods on sleds, often surpassing horses, they took on a new role – that of quickly moving mail to the many fur trade posts scattered over a territory covering thousands of miles. Not only were tough dogs needed, now speed and endurance became important.
Already in the 1820s travel and communications between the northern Peace River Posts was important. In 1822 Hugh Faries, in charge of Fort St. John’s (near the present-day Fort St. John’s, British Columbia, Canada), together with four other men traveled downriver to Dunvegan in two days. The distance between the two forts is approximately 125km (~76 miles) along the river. The dog teams and their men traveled about 63km (38 miles) a day.
What I find remarkable about these and other stories I’ve read, is not only the strength and fitness of the dogs, but also the fitness of the mushers. In deep snow they broke trail for the dogs or ran beside the sleighs instead of riding on the back. They wore many thin layers of clothing that breathed well in freezing temperatures, so as not to capture the moisture off their bodies and freeze on the clothing. The wool capote became a very necessary article for travel.
According to Metis, Norbert Welsh, on the Canadian prairies the sled dogs were not ‘Eskimo’ dogs, but very strong:
“I had my dogs well harnessed, plenty of bells on them and ribbons flying all over. These dogs were of common breed—we could not get Eskimo dogs—but they were strong. Each dog could pull four hundred pounds and race with it. I had a young Indian driving one team. We went very fast over the plains. Sometimes we would ride on the sleigh, and sometimes we would run beside or behind it.” (Compiled by Lawrence Barkwell, Louis Riel Institute. Quote from Mary Weekes, 1994. The Last Buffalo Hunter (Account of Norbert Welsh), Calgary: Fifth House)
This mail service was known as the ‘Winter Packet’. The ‘packet’ was a heavy leather case used to transport mail, reports and orders to and from Rupert’s Land to the Governor and Council in London, England. Dogs now took on a new role in the Canadian West – Movers of Information.
According to J. J. Hargrave: “The starting of the Northern Packet from Red River is one of the great annual events of the Colony. It occurs generally about 10th December, when the ice having been thoroughly formed and the snow fallen, winter travelling is easy and uninterrupted. The packet arrangements are such that every post in the Northern Department is communicated with through its agency. The means of transit are sledges and snowshoes. The sledges are drawn by magnificent dogs, of which there are three or four to each vehicle, whose neatly fitting harness, though gaudy in appearance, is simple in design and perfectly adapted to its purposes, while the little bells attached thereto, bright looking and clearly ringing, cheer the flagging spirits of men and animals through the long run of a winter day.” (From J. J. Hargrave, 1871. Red River)
In 1878, N. M. W. J. McKenzie, a former servant of the Company, wrote:
“The greatest of all trips was the winter mail packet from Montreal to the mouth of the Mackenzie river in the Arctic Ocean, by dogs. The packet had to go through on time at all cost….Three men and two dog trains generally ran it through, the extra man always ahead on snowshoes when the snow was either too deep or too soft for the dogs to make time.
This was the trip that proved who the best man and best dogs were for that winter, and their fame would be all over the country before next winter.” (From N. M. W. J. McKenzie, 1921. The Men of the Hudson’s Bay Company, 1670-1920. Ft. William : [Times-Journal Presses.)
AND YOU THOUGHT CANADA POST WAS SLOW!
The mail must go through. Dog teams carrying mail between fur trade posts. (Courtesy of Provincial Archives of Manitoba, William Rackham. N21206.)
Dogs Continue into the 20th Century
The role of dogs, as a primary mode of travel, steadily declined during the 20th century. But in many parts of the Canadian North, with no roads or rails, they continued to be important. Especially in the winter.
At the turn of the 20th century, other private entrepreneurs set up trading businesses in northern Alberta and the Northwest Territories to compete with the Hudson’s Bay Company. One of those men was Edward Barry Nagle. In 1887 he joined James Hislop to develop the Hislop and Nagle fur trading company along the Athabasca River and Mackenzie River. For more about this man and his exploits, read: The Prospector: North of Sixty (biography), Lone Pine Publishing (Edmonton, Alberta, Canada), 1989, by Jordan Zinovich.
Ed was an avid dog lover and had some incredible dog teams. Fortunately for us, he left behind a large collection of photographs of his dog teams from that time period. A few are worth publishing here for what they reveal about the breeds and their use.
Ed Nagle and his water spaniel. Date unknown. Exotic dog breeds were brought into the Canadian Northwest, and either accidentally or deliberating breeding with local Indigenous dog populations. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, PA-3760-109)
Title: Ed Nagle, seated in sleigh; dog team driver, Mr. Dussel, standing. Annotated: ‘Mackenzie River huskies bred by Ed Nagle. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, PA-3760-59)
Dog teams leaving Hislop and Nagle Company post, Fort Resolution, Northwest Territories. These dogs resemble more the Canadian dogs than the northern Inuit dogs. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, PA-3760-60)
Arrival of first airplane in Aklavik, Northwest Territories. Date unknown. The Canadian North was virtually inaccessible, but the airplane soon helped change that. But on land, as this photograph shows, the dog teams were ready to move the goods to the settlement. New and old technologies meet. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, NA-1258-73)
With the introduction of new economies, pulling sled dogs became pulling plow dogs in the north. This is one of the unusual photographs of a dog team pulling a plow at Fort Rae that I have ever run across. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, NA-4552-8)
Dog Paraphernalia and Sleds
Dog paraphernalia began to appear with the introduction and development of dog teams in the fur trade. And continued into the 20th century. Many of you probably haven’t heard of ‘standing irons’, or ‘tuppies’ – decorated iron rods and fancy blankets decorated with bright colored ribbons and cloth. Sleigh bells were also attached around the dog’s neck, irons, or tuppies. Often before the team arrived at the fort the dogs were decked out in their best attire: “Three days later our dogs, bearing the smartest of dog cloths and with sleigh bells ringing merrily, rattled into Edmonton….” (From Warburton Pike 1892. The Barren Ground of Northern Canada. New York: Macmillan & Co.)
The Dene and Metis took dog paraphernalia to a different level using elaborate tufted and beaded floral motifs on their dog tuppies (which originated from the word, Tapis, meaning a tapestry or richly decorated cloth, used as a hanging or a covering). This Dene dog blanket dates between 1878 – 1900. (Courtesy of: Saskatchewan, History, population, news, stories and events of La Loche and the North-West, “Metis and Dene dog blankets and bells.”) (http://portagelaloche.blogspot.com/2012/02/metis-dog-blankets.html)
“…all the dogs gaudily decorated with saddle-cloths of various colors, fringed and embroidered in the most fantastic manner, with innumerable small bells and feathers…Our carioles were also handsomely decorated…” (Paul Kane, 1967. Wanderings of an Artist Among the Indians of North America Edmonton: Hurtig, 1967: 270-271)
A painting by Peter Rindisbacher, 1820s, Red River area, showing a dog team decked out in their tuppies, bells, and standing irons.This dog team, belonging to Ed Nagle, along the North Saskatchewan River, just below Fort Edmonton, wearing their tuppies, bells and feathers. The fur trade dog teams became more than carrying goods and services. A man with a good dog team was rich in many ways. (Courtesy Provincial Archives of Alberta, B5707)
In many of the above historic images you see two types of dog sleds: 1) the open sled, resembling a toboggan; and, 2) the carriole, often ornately decorated. According to Danelle Cloutier: “The term “carriole” was first used to refer to horse-drawn sleighs, especially the lightweight open sleighs used in French Canada. Throughout the fur trade era, the term described toboggan-style sleds with sides made from hide or canvas and birch boards for planking.” (From Danelle Cloutier, 2016. Canada’s History: https://www.canadashistory.ca/explore/transportation/hbc-carriole
These two images (only partial of the original) by painter Peter Rindisbacher of the buffalo hunt (left) and of a gentleman traveling in a dog carriole (right). These were the two primary types of sleds that dog teams pulled in the fur trade. There are numerous references in the fur trade journals of the men cutting birch to make sleds as winter approached.
Preparing for the journey between Fort Garry and Norway House, Manitoba, Canada. The carriole has Norway written on it probably signifying Norway House, Manitoba. The distance between Fort Garry and Norway House was about 433Km (262.4 miles) which some teams covered in about nine days mostly over the frozen waters of lake Winnipeg. Which comes to about 48km (29 miles) per day. (Courtesy of Archives of Manitoba)
For the most part both dog teams, sleds, nor their mushers were ornately decorated when carrying out the more mundane, everyday tasks in the winter. In many northern regions, larger, stronger dogs were bred to haul larger, heavier loads. (Courtesy Glenbow Archives, NA-4433-15)
The Fur Trade Archaeological Evidence
Artifacts
When excavating at fur trade sites in western Canada we find few direct traces of dogs in the archaeological record. However, there are exceptions. At the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830), and a few other fur trade posts, we found sleigh bells similar to those shown in historic paintings and photographs used for dog teams. And we found thousands of small glass colored seed beads at those forts. Some of these beads were likely used to adorn those tuppies.
This silver sleigh bell was uncovered in an old abandoned cellar at the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c/1798 – 1830) site.
Glass trade beads called ‘seed’ beads came in a variety of colors. These beads are either from a horse blanket or tuppie. They were recovered from the HBC Fort Victoria (c.1864 -1898), a small outpost approximately 100km downriver from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.
Animal Bones
I’ve also examined faunal remains recovered from the various fur trade forts in Alberta. In almost every fort faunal assemblage we identified canid bones mixed in with other wild game animal bones. The problem we have is distinguishing between wolf and domestic dog from just the skeletal remains.
In the Table below I simply lumped the bones into Canid, which could be either dog or wolf. Canid remains make up between one and three percent of all the animal bones we find. Also the Table shows: 1) Northern Alberta forts have a higher percentage of canid remains than the Central Alberta forts; and, 2) Early Period (c.1780s – 1830) forts have a higher percentage of canid remains than later period forts.
Fur Trade Posts
Canid NISP
Total NISP
% Canid
Northern Posts
249
7924
3.1
Central Posts
155
9223
1.0
Early Posts
313
11758
2.7
Late Posts
85
6138
1.4
HBC Fort Edmonton
27
1115
2.4
HBC Fort Victoria
18
610
3.0
Percentages were calculated by dividing Canid NISP (number of identifiable specimens) by Total NISP (number of identifiable specimens). Canid could be either dog or wolf. The two are very difficult to identify positively from faunal remains. Given the context however, most of the specimens are likely domestic dog. The reasons for the differences in these percentages is more difficult to determine without more carefully examining their context and the bones (which currently I was unable to do). More dog remains in the archaeological record might simply reflect more dogs at the posts or they reflect greater selection of dogs, for example, for eating.
While some of these bones may represent the natural deaths of dogs living at the posts, others invariably ended up in the fort cooking pots when times got tough and other food was in short supply:
“The men all hunting and fishing, but very unlucky….We are now in a very alarming situation, not having a mouthful to eat. The children are always going about the fort crying for something to eat.” (Journal entries, NWC Fort Dunvegan, northern Alberta, Canada, 1806)
Also, along the North Saskatchewan River, 1859 was particularly tough according to William Gladstone, visiting Fort Edmonton:
“…the men sent by the Boss to the plains came back empty-handed. For two weeks we starved and then a lot of us bought a couple of dogs from the Stoney Indians and killed them. Dog meat is not bad as any one can tell you who has eaten sausages.” (From William Gladstone, 1985. The Gladstone Diary. Travels in the Early West. Lethbridge: Historic Trails Society of Alberta)
Looking Ahead
Both the historic records and the archaeological remains are informative about the presence and importance of dogs for both Indigenous and Euro-Canadians. But they leave a lot to be desired. We still can’t answer some basic questions about dogs in the fur trade, or earlier, even though we have considerable numbers of bones to work with (but unfortunately not at prehistoric archaeological sites). We can’t even accurately identify these remains to genus level (i.e., wolf or dog).
This somewhat frustrating state of affairs led me recently to contact one of the foremost experts on prehistoric domesticated dogs, Dr. Robert J. Losey, University of Alberta. I asked Dr. Losey whether DNA samples taken from those bones might be more informative than what we had discovered about dogs so far. Here’s his response:
“Study of the nuclear DNA of these canids would definitely identify them as dogs, wolves, or coyotes, and even provide evidence for hybrids or earlier introgressions between the three species. If the right portions of the genome are targeted, such studies could also reveal details about coat color, body size, and even adaptation to starch-rich diets. In a few cases, DNA studies are now even focusing on the microbiomes of ancient dogs, revealing how their digestive systems are adapting to human food environments.”
So, in the future by applying DNA research to the fur trade canid remains, we may be able to answer some basic questions about them that we currently can’t:
more accurately determining whether they are dog, wolf, or coyote;
whether the dogs got bigger over time as the historic records suggest;
what regional and temporal differences existed among the dog breeds;
the rate that European breeds were being introduced into the local strains.
I’m confident that with these advanced techniques the next decade will bring answers to some of these questions.
Our Vanishing Canadian Dog Breeds
We have already lost a number of Canadian dogs breeds: 1) the Salish woolly dog; 2) Tahltan hunting dog; 2) Hare Indian dog; 3) North American dog. There likely were others over the last 14,000 years or longer that have left no record. And they were lost for various reasons – changing economies and technology, disease, and interbreeding, to name a few.
As Thom Swan points out, the Canadian Inuit dog only survives because of efforts of a few determined people to save it: “The breed might have gone extinct if not for the efforts of the Eskimo Dog Research Foundation created by William Carpenter and John McGrath. The foundation purchased dogs from remote Inuit camps and began breeding them to increase their numbers.”
Swan has also has tried to replicate the now extinct North American dog from the historic descriptions. His two dogs, Orion and Capella, are examples of the North American dogs used by northern Indigenous peoples; perhaps for centuries.
I am one of the thirty-two percent of Canadian households who owns at least one dog. I’m a spaniel guy and love the breed for both their hunting abilities and companionship. In Canada over the centuries the domestic dog served many purposes for many people. And came in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. But we all probably shared one common thing with our dogs – their constant, devoted companionship.
“When the Man waked up he said, ‘What is Wild Dog doing here?’ And the Woman said, ‘His name is not Wild Dog any more, but the First Friend, because he will be our friend for always and always and always.’” — Rudyard Kipling
Our English Springer Spaniels at Blackgold Kennels, 2014. From front to back: Laser (deceased), Keagan (deceased), Ceili (deceased), and Pepsi.
Some of the best kept secrets are often hidden under our very noses. I didn’t start listening to this wonderful radio station until the late 1990s. Why not earlier? I couldn’t say. I’m just glad that I finally started to listen. CKUA is one of the most unusual and renowned radio stations in the world. (Image courtesy of CKUA: https://www.liveradioplayer.com/ckua-radio-network/)
Like many of you I love music. I used to play it but now I just enjoy listening to a whole range of musical genres – Country, Rock, Jazz, Blues, Folk, and just about everything in between. But, where on earth does one find such a range of music without spending a small fortune buying it?
The answer – tune into the CKUA Radio Network, right here in Alberta, Canada. This is truly a Canadian story. I’m certain many of you from Alberta have already heard about this great radio station. As a matter of fact CKUA is so renowned in Alberta, we even dedicated a display to it in our new Royal Alberta Museum here in Edmonton.
However, there are many people out there who have not heard about this powerful little radio station. So, I’m going to act as the messenger through this website to give Canada’s first public broadcaster (yes, you read right, ‘first public broadcaster’) a plug.
This post will be short and sweet. For more information about CKUA, and how you can tune in, wherever you are in the world, go to their website: https://ckua.com/. Once there you will find more information about the station, its history, hosts, upcoming events, and record library (one of the best in Canada, if not the world).
Here are a few highlights about this amazing radio station to get you started.
CKUA was the first public broadcaster in Canada, starting at the University of Alberta with a lecture series, in 1927.
Before the internet got going you could only tune into the station in certain places in Alberta (and nowhere else in Canada). Eventually the network built fourteen transmitters around the province so that all Albertans could enjoy their broadcasts. And now you can live-stream their broadcasts from anywhere in the world.
CKUA is donor-supported relying primarily on money acquired by fund-raising twice a year and from their regular subscribers. Their fundraiser this fall raised over one million dollars in about ten days.
CKUA’s music library one of the largest and most diverse in Canada. It contains more than 250,000 CDs and LPs. The collection represents 140 years of recorded music.
CKUA has over thirty-five hosts who, as the CKUA website claims, ‘plan and curate their playlists to their tastes, unencumbered by genre, decade or ‘hit’ lists.’ Each host usually comes from some sort of musical background. And folks, they know their stuff. I’ve learned more about music and the history of music by listening to CKUA than from anywhere else. And, you will hear music on this station that you will rarely, if ever, hear anywhere else. Many of CKUA’s hosts are on a first name basis with some familiar names in each music genre. And the personal interviews of musical celebrities by hosts such as Holger Petersen (a host for over 50 years of his Natch’l Blues show) and Terry David Mulligan (Mulligan’s Stew Show), are off the charts.
CKUA promotes local Alberta and Canadian talent. They give new Canadian artists a chance to be heard and hone their skills. The list of musicians they promoted is extensive: Jan Arden, K.D. Lang, Robert Goulet, Tommy Banks, Corb Lund, to name a few. (I seem to recall that Robert Goulet grew up in Edmonton and was once a host on the station).
CKUA’s extensive music library. I remember on some of the early fundraisers, volunteers used to run down to the library and pull out requests from donators who called in. A bit of a daunting task, given the size of the collections, and the building. (Image courtesy of CKUA: https://www.flickr.com/photos/mastermaq/16698895761/in/photostream/)
CKUA is ‘Community’ Oriented
Perhaps one of the things that struck me most about the station is the involvement of the community in CKUA, and the involvement of CKUA in the community. That relationship has grown stronger since 1997 when the station shut down but was revived by a new board. Along with their 35 or more hosts, they have over 40 support staff and 500 volunteers. And to date about 12,000 donors, who provide 60 per cent of the radio station’s funding.
And the station supports some pretty awesome music events in Alberta. They often broadcast live at many of the folk festivals in Alberta – the Calgary and Edmonton Folk Festivals, for example, and many more. And bring in renowned musical acts from all over the world. If the JUNO awards are being hosted by an Alberta City, you can be sure CKUA will be there to do some live interviews.
I’ll end with a few personal notes about the radio station. In 1992, I was interviewed by CKUA regarding my work at the HBC Fort Edmonton archaeological site. They support community events. Somewhere in those CKUA library vaults there’s probably a tape of that interview.
In July, 2021 I turned seventy. My wife asked Terry David Mulligan to wish me a happy birthday on his show. Terry had already pre-recorded his show, but despite that he went out of his way to get another host to wish me a happy birthday. Terry didn’t have to do that, but that’s what he’s all about.
So, for those of you out there who love music and haven’t given this radio station a try, tune in and find out what it’s all about. I’m sure you’ll find something on their eclectic playlist and programs you like. And I guarantee there will be some surprises. I’ve been listening for over twenty years and am still entertained and learning. I hope you will be too.
Jack, Worthington Hagerman, also known as the ‘The ‘Old Disc Jockey’, who is no longer with us, started as a host at CKUA in 1949. Jack left behind an incredible legacy. His shows still air every Sunday on CKUA. For more information on this remarkable man go to: https://ckua.com/read/how-john-worthington-hagerman-became-the-very-essence-of-ckua/. (Image courtesy of CKUA: https://ckua.com/read/how-john-worthington-hagerman-became-the-very-essence-of-ckua/)
The grim looking group of scientists sitting around the table listened to renowned Doctor Derrick Smith, a leading authority in his field. “And so, to summarize, the news is not good, ladies and gentlemen. Humanity is in trouble. All the factors I mentioned, along with the increasing numbers of slow swimmers, could jeopardize humankind. And dogs.” The meeting adjourned and the small, assembled group of scientists went back to their respective countries to report to their governments.
………………….
In another part of the hospital, it was not humankind that was in jeopardy. But the life of one man. A dying Jason Parry, just turned thirty-five, lay in his bed trying desperately to breath and focus. A renowned neurosurgeon at the University of Alberta Hospital, Parry, through strained breaths, was having trouble believing what he was hearing.
The masked doctor looked at Parry, marked sorrow in both his eyes and voice. “I’m sorry Dr. Parry, there’s nothing more we can do. This strain of Covid is lethal. C-9.9.9 kills over eighty-five percent of those infected. Of all ages.”
Parry’s wife, Susan, burst into tears. His two young twin sons were running around in stockinged feet, trying to give one another electric shocks. The doctor, shaking his head, left the grieving family alone.
Parry, trying to keep calm, considered his options. Death, it seemed, lurked at the doorstep. Threatening to end his life and eventually over one-quarter of the world’s population. If the Covid virus didn’t render humans extinct, the slow swimmers might.
After considering, Parry finally made his choice.
“O.K., let’s do it. Say goodbye to Jake for me.” At his words, his wife cried more, now joined by his bewildered sons.
Parry had to have faith in the new, highly controversial cryonics technology. His last thoughts were that Jake’s kind might be in trouble too.
Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, 2200
Parry woke, to a dimly lit room, aware of the burning sensation in his body. The anti-freezing fluids were being flushed out of his system, returning it to its normal temperature.
Suddenly, a face, immersed in some sort of bluish halo, loomed over him shining a tiny light into his one eye. “Can you talk, Dr. Parry? Just easy now. Don’t raise your voice. Everything kind of needs to warm up first.”
“Where am I,” croaked Parry. “Am I alive? Who are you? Is this a dream?”
“Easy now, Dr. Parry. All in good time. First we must assess your condition. After all, you’ve been out for a while.”
Parry, confused by this remark, asked, “Haven’t you frozen me yet, Doctor? I thought we were going ahead with the cryonics?”
“Oh, Dr. Parry, you were out for a while – 179 years to be exact. But you’re back now.”
“Oh, God. It must have worked…”
Doctor Goodwin interrupted. “Now, Dr. Parry, just relax. You have a lot to catch up on.” Earlier Goodwin, after consulting with his team of experts, while worried about bringing Parry back to life, worried more about his mental condition. He touched Jason’s left arm with a blunt metal object, and the increasingly anxious Parry immediately was out again.
………………….
Parry felt much better when he woke up the next time. Goodwin was standing nearby.
“How are you feeling, Dr. Parry? Any pain anywhere? Your vitals look good. No problems that we can see.” Goodwin suddenly looked up as if viewing something in the distance. Occasionally nodding his head as if in agreement.
“We’ll start with some basic information.” Goodwin seemed to be looking off into the distance again as if he were examining data on a computer screen.
Parry saw a radiating metal band around Goodwin’s head. Technology to allow him to connect with his computer? Where’s the computer?, wondered Parry. Suddenly a transparent, virtual bluish screen appeared, and Parry saw data on the screen floating in the air. His vitals, he presumed. Parry relaxed, thinking to himself, Take it easy, Jason. This won’t be your first surprise.
“First things first, Dr. Parry. In the next few days, we’ll put you on an exercise program to rejuvenate those muscles. You’ve been rather lazy lately, laying around for 180 years.” Goodwin chuckled at his own joke resulting in a line of little bluish laughing heads appearing on the virtual image.
Goodwin continued. “First though, I’ll answer any questions you have.”
“Where am I? In Edmonton?” Goodwin only nodded and said nothing, thinking. Close enough. An Edmonton of sorts, Jason Parry.
“Why did you ‘revitalize’ me now?”
“Two reasons, Dr. Parry. First, the advance in cryonics five years ago. In your time it was considered a long shot at best. Dangerous at worst. There was a breakthrough in reconstituting the brain’s neural net.”
“And the other reason, Doctor?”
“Before you were frozen, Dr. Parry, you had the C-9.9.9 variant. It killed millions, before we finally managed to eradicate it.”
“And the problem, Doctor?”
“Your variant mutated while you were under. We didn’t know how to treat it. No one wanted to let the genie out of the bottle. And infect the world with a new strain of Covid. But with recently approved nanotechnology in medicine, we sent in nanobots to kill the variant, before resuscitating you. You’re cured. And, so far there aren’t any runaway bots taking over the world.”
Before Parry could ask any more questions, Goodwin jumped in. “I think, Dr. Parry you need to rest now.
“I agree, Doctor. Perhaps you could arrange some reading for me to start catching up.”
Goodwin chuckled. “Reading, Doctor? You’d be dead by the time you caught up. No, we’ve arranged something better.” He seemed to be looking into space again and suddenly an image of two middle-aged men and one woman appeared in the room. Parry squinted. First amazed at the imagery and technology. Then at the vaguely familiar faces, reminding him of his wife and two boys.
“Dr. Parry, meet some of your direct descendants. I’ll let them tell you how we’re going get you set for your new world.” Goodwin speculated, Well, if this doesn’t put him over the top, nothing will.
Parry stared at them, then broke down crying. Sarah, Graham, and Dallas came closer trying to virtually console him.
…………………
Introduction To A Changing World, 2100
Parry opened his eyes to what seemed more like a dream than reality. Beside him stood his three descendants. Shimmering, not looking quite right either. Sarah talked first. “Hi Gramps. Can I call you Gramps or Jason. Great, Great, Great…. Grandfather seems rather long.”
“I kind of like Gramps. Has an old ring to it. Where are we? Am I sleeping? This doesn’t feel right.”
Dallas answered. “Gramps, this is something called virtual history. You can interact with it and ask anything you like about the year 2100. Eventually, we’ll take you forward to the present.”
“But how am I seeing this? I have no goggles or headgear on.” Then Parry felt the thin band on his head.
“We don’t need those anymore, Gramps. With that headband, this info-site is directly connected to your brain. You will take a virtual tour back to 2100 and we’ll explore some key things that changed in the world since 2021.”
Suddenly there standing before him were now much older versions of his two sons, Eric and Neil.
“This is so extraordinary. I have so many things to ask you.” His sons greeted him warmly as if alive.
“Well, let’s skip the family stuff until later. Let’s first check out the world.” Graham watched carefully. Too much emotion from Parry and he was instructed to end the session immediately.
Eric asked, “Dad, before you left us, what major problem did our world face?”
A confused Parry blurted out, “Climate, energy, disease, pollution, overpopulation, obesity, racial and religious issues, human inequality. It’s a long list, Eric.”
“Think again, Dad. Back then we had the means to fix most of those things but couldn’t because one of them trumped all.” Eric watched the thinking Parry.
“Well, the world’s geopolitical systems were the major thing holding us back. They were broken, unwieldy, corrupt, or misguided by ideological and religious dogma.”
A major map of the world appeared in front of Parry. Over the world floated a large logo, with two green letters, WE. In the background a voice droned on, describing the new world political order. Parry stared, barely able to comprehend what he was watching.
Neil began. “You’re right, Dad. Our politics, whether domestic, international, democratic, dictatorial, and everything in-between, were destroying us. We couldn’t cooperate on anything globally. Leaving our poor world in shambles and continual threats of war. That had to change. In a way, a declining world’s population, helped by the Covid pandemic, unraveled the old system. And so did the slow swimmers, although they could still do us in. World economies were destroyed, and along with them those with the power to manipulate the political system to their own ends. There was rioting, civil war, and totally anarchy the world over. And more died.”
The world map contained only six names. New America; Ant-America; Europa; Africa; Asia; and Oceania. Eric pointed out, “These, Dad, are the new political entities or super-countries if you will. Canada is no longer a sovereign nation but now part of a larger continental entity, New America, under one government. Former countries of these new entities had to unify because of the economic turmoil and population decline. We’re not quite done but making progress. Both New America and Asia is still attempting to revert to older power systems. But the people are forcing change on a scale never seen before.”
“But how does this even work?,” blurted a confused Parry.
Neil chimed in, “First, governments of these Nation continents are formed by the people…”
Parry, now totally fired up, cut in. “Yes, and then corruption sets in and our political leaders are manipulated by capitalist or ideological agendas. Or, someone just downright becomes greedy and takes sole power, passing it down to their children and bleeding off all the wealth, leaving most people powerless with nothing.”
Eric interjected. “You can imagine, Dad, there was major unrest and the most corrupt world leaders were held accountable. They lost the power they once had as the world’s population crashed. Disease deniers were murdered. A new order emerged.”
Neil continued. “The new political order realized that religion and the state must be separated – a former rule that had become more and more blurred in many countries. But also, capitalism and the state needed to be separated. We still have a capitalist system, but it can’t influence or buy the governing body. No more candidates who will get corporations more money and power if elected, with large donations. No more political lobbying and bribery with perks, or threats. No more inserting candidates into political positions because of certain religious beliefs.”
“But, where do the politicians get their money to campaign?”
“The state gives eligible candidates a certain amount of money to run for political positions.”
“What, eligible? Qualify to be a politician? Wouldn’t that disqualify many people from even running? And, what qualifications would you need?” Parry thought he hadn’t heard right.
A list appeared in front of Parry. “There they are, Dad. At least three years of civic political experience, being elected democratically. To really understand humanity and its history, requires courses in anthropology, history and sociology. And, if you wish to go on to the world governing level, courses in international relations. By the time you go through all these steps, it eliminates most of the shysters who went into politics for power and self-aggrandizement.”
“Those types can’t use their wealth to influence the political system. They have to play by the rules. We now have more informed politicians who represent New America, based on region and/or population as before. Then, one is chosen from the elected to lead. For only a five year term. There are no political parties.”
Parry shook his head, wondering if such a system could even work? A politician, unhindered by donors, party agendas, working solely to carry out the wishes of the people and the laws and rules of the land, based on sound facts?
Something about world politics, from Eric’s former statement, prompted another question from Parry. “But, wouldn’t these new countries continue to bicker about world issues? Like climate?”
An image appeared, of a large council chamber, capable of seating thousands, similar to the United Nations. In its center sat twelve delegates, two people representing each continent.
“The United Nations was revamped into a new political system that over-arches the six continents. It has the power to deal with global matters and those possibly from outer space. Anything or anyone that threatens the earth, be it pollution, over-population, disease, or outsiders is handled at this political level.”
Eric pointed, “That’s its logo, WE, floating over the earth.”
“Meaning, WE the people, I assume? Instead of ME, as in MYSELF,” asked Parry.
“Partly, Dad. It represents the two cornerstones of new world order policies. WASTE and EFFICIENCY. Dad, your era wasted about 42% of all energy you made for transportation, heating, etc., and one-third of all food produced. We’ve reduced those figures to about 10% each. Eventually we’ll reach zero waste. That alone would make a big difference in harmful emissions and human inequality.”
“Then, I take it EFFICIENCY means better, cleaner energy for homes, manufacturing and transportation?”
“Yes, Dad. And a host of other things as well.”
“Solving our energy crisis, for example, for the benefit of all continents and while not affecting the earth’s environment is among one of the most monumental challenges we’ve ever faced. But, in your day it couldn’t happen. This governing body realizes that success can only come from cooperation. Globally.”
A fascinated Parry watched the session. Shouting broke out between the Australian and Asian delegates. The Australian was speaking loudly. “Your policies on energy are still inefficient. There’s a grey cloud of shit hanging over Asia, yet you’re still reluctant to accept cleaner energy solutions. That will just increase the slow swimmers.”
The Asian delegate, equally angry, shouted back. “We’re trying but are not technologically ready. If you would share more of that new energy information with us, perhaps we could resolve the problem faster. And remember Mr. Osborn from Australia, soon we will be neighbors, so try to be more civil.”
A perplexed looking Aussie, asked, “Neighbors? We’re neighbors already. Too close in fact. When the winds blow right, your big blob of suet covers our continent.”
The Asian delegate shot back, “That’s not what I meant Mr. Osborn. In about two-hundred million years, as the continent of Australia creeps toward us 2.2 inches a year, it will bump up against Asia and we will be very close neighbors.” This got a round of applause and laughter from the assembly.
Even the Australian delegate laughed.
Parry and his sons chuckled at the outbreak. Parry asked, “But how is a final decision enforced?”
“None of the continents has a standing army, Dad. Or major weapons of mass destruction. Only the world authority can amass an army to ensure compliance, if necessary. So far, it hasn’t been necessary. These diplomats and politicians know what a mess the world is in. They realize if they don’t work together for the interests of the planet, all on earth are doomed.”
Later as Parry and his sons sat watching the hockey game, catching up on family matters, Parry, still perplexed about a few other things, casually asked.
“What about race? When I left, racial tensions and intolerance throughout the world were off the charts.”
Neil answered. “Racial and gender equality have improved, and our leaders are better educated and more tolerant to racial issues. That has helped but maybe not be enough. So, as we speak, Dad, the borders between continents are opening. People will be allowed to choose where to live. Up to the point when it might no longer be safe, economical, or endanger cultural diversity.”
Parry couldn’t believe his ears. “What? You can’t do that. We’ll be flooded with humans wanting to live here.”
“And how did your borders work before, Dad? They only caused turmoil, inequality, fear and hate. Remember, this is no longer 2021. We desperately need people. Or, our economies will crash again. Eventually all economies will balance out and people won’t need to flee. If you had a choice and could live comfortably in Columbia, raise a family and make a living, or live in northern Alberta, which would you choose?”
Parry, in defense of northern Alberta, answered, “There’s nothing wrong with northern Alberta. But I see your point. There would be less incentive to move. People were moving before because of warfare, starvation, or suppression.”
“Right,” interjected Eric. That’s been solved for the most part. By opening the borders, we think there will be more inter-racial interactions, intermarriage, and economic equality, improving tolerance. It’s a big gamble. We don’t know what will happen. We may lose our cultural diversity. Or, it might be strengthened. When you go to 2200, you’ll probably have an answer. It could lead to total racial retrenching which might lead to more conflict.”
“Another question. Are we too late in reversing some of the things we’ve done to world climate?”
“Don’t know, Dad. The most efficient energy policies currently available are now fully implemented. Waste of and polluting energy continues to drop. CO2 emissions are down to manageable levels. But is it too late? Our sea levels continue to rise. But, the world hasn’t sunk under the oceans, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“I’d hoped there would be flying cars by now. Or teleporting,” grumbled Parry.
Eric paused the game and brought up an image of cars traveling down streets. “Not there yet, Dad, but way better than in your day.”
Parry watched the traffic but heard no noise. “What are they running on?”
“Right now, mostly electricity. But the real big breakthrough are the tires.”
“The tires?,” asked Parry.
“Nanotires, Dad. Vehicle travel causes friction on the roads which is converted into electricity. Those tires are recovering about 35% of the energy used in fuel. Someday that technology may be efficient enough to recover enough electricity to power that car.”
Suddenly the game was interrupted by a news flash. There on the streets, what looked like a pack of robotic dogs were chasing someone frantically trying to escape in a vehicle. Eric moaned. “Oh, God. The health hounds again.”
An incredulous Parry looked on. “Health hounds?”
An embarrassed looking Eric simply said. “An experiment, Dad, intended to deal with health issues, gone terribly, terribly wrong.” His son filled a concerned Parry in on the details.
The game resumed. “But our biggest concern Dad, are the increasing slow swimmers.” The sons then told their father about this dilemma as they watched the rest of the game. As usual the Canadians won.
Back To 2200
Goodwin, standing near Parry, looked off into his own space and data, to see how his patient was doing.
“Welcome back, Dr. Parry. How are you feeling?”
“Surprised, shocked, puzzled, but well enough. So much changed in less than 100 years. Is there more to come?
“Yes, Doctor. Hopefully that session lessens the shock of the present. I have a surprise for you.” Then Dr. Goodwin looked off into his head and checked Parry’s vitals, making sure he was stable.
The door opened and in walked Dallas, Sarah and Graham, in the flesh. An emotional, befuddled Parry, still adjusting to jumping ahead of his children and grandchildren into this future world, gave them a big hug.
Parry finally regained his composure and spoke. “You all look so great. I’m anxious to see this new world and get to know you. I hope I’m ready.”
“We’ll take it slow, Gramps. Brace yourself. Edmonton is different from when you left. First we’ll show you some of the City and then try to put it all into perspective.”
They left Parry’s room and entered a large atrium teeming with plants. It almost looked like they were outside. Sarah caught Parry staring. “We incorporate as much plant life into our public buildings as possible. It’s not just decorative but practical. All building interiors produce oxygen and absorb CO2. The entire building is designed to produce electricity and geothermal heating, give off zero emissions and generates more energy than it uses.”
Parry marveled at the vastly improved energy efficiency as they passed out the building doors. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the streets. They were covered with a mixture of grass and some black glassy-looking material. Wheeled vehicles drove on the latter while other vehicles floated over the former. “Gramps, those glassy-looking surfaces are solar arrays embedded into the road, to produce electricity, for the wheeled vehicles. The nanogenerators in the tires on wheeled vehicles now recover 85% of the car’s expended energy by producing electricity from friction. The cars gliding over the grass, based on electromagnetics or maglev, are fueled by electricity. Our entire rapid transit systems are now all maglev – quieter, faster and more efficient. You can travel from one side of the continent to the other at the speed of sound on the maglev trains.”
Parry, barely paying attention was down on his knees examining the intricate solar arrays embedded in the road. “But the maglev cars don’t produce any friction on the ground, so no electrical recovery?”
“We’re producing electricity from friction caused when a car, train, or plane moves through the air. Our new generation of nanogenerators convert mechanical energy, caused by air friction over their bodies to generate power. We’ll show you more examples of this in a bit.” Sarah towed a reluctant Parry toward a row of vehicles.
Once inside their vehicle, Graham punched in some numbers on the computer console and off they went. No one was driving. As they neared the residential parts of the City, Parry noticed that the structures were barely visible, looking like mounds buried under sod and grass. Only the south-facing facades showed, flowing out into yards. They also looked longer as if several houses were connected.
Parry asked, “Are these residences?”
“They are, Gramps. Mostly buried, with very low profiles to provide insulation and conserve heat in our very frigid winters.”
Parry was impressed. “So, these are just cold climate residences? What about the rest of the more temperate and tropical world? Are houses still usually above ground?”
“The same principle holds even in the tropics but is reversed. Instead of keeping the cold out you keep the heat out. And conserve electricity required for air-conditioning.”
Their ride finally stopped beside one of the units. “Is this all yours? I thought by now we would have scaled back a little on residential space,” asked a puzzled Parry.
“Welcome home, Gramps.”
“I’ll be living with you? I don’t want to intrude.”
“That’s why this unit is so big, Gramps. It contains our entire extended families. Children, parents, grandparents all live together. It’s divided into private units, but we all interact. We care for our elders at home with help. When we’re away, the elders care for the children. Even if we’re not away, the social interaction is important for both. Many societies of the past used these same organizational principles, but western society mistakenly decided the nuclear family was the way to go.”
Parry entered the cement encased house, well lit with light tubes, despite being mostly underground. His new family greeted him warmly in anticipation in seeing someone from the past. Stan, an elderly man met him and shook his hand. “Welcome, Gramps, I can’t beat your 214 years even though I’m a spry 130.” They both laughed at the joke.
The next day, before his daily stroll, Parry listened to the news casts on his virtual communications device, powered by the electricity generated by the friction from his shoes and cloths he made when walking. It sounded like the new world political system was still holding up. Then the news turned to the national stage where reports of rising sea levels were causing concerns in coastal communities.
Parry noticed that many fences and other hard surfaces had a strange coating of material on them. “Sarah, what’s that stuff on the fences? I even saw it in the toilet bowl.”
“Those are water motion active transducers. Tiny flexible, transparent electrodes that coat windows, roofs and even toilet bowls, to generate electricity from friction produced by raindrops and any water flow. All the water piping in our homes is coated with it, producing electricity. We even coat our new storm sewers with them to generate electricity for the City.”
“Then our energy and emissions problems are solved, with these technologies?”
“Yes, mostly, but we are still developing more efficient, less intrusive technologies. See that pole with what look like tiny filaments hanging by that house there. Those are tiny protein microwires made from geobacteria, capable of generating electricity from water vapour in the air. They work anywhere, including the driest parts of the world.”
A stunned Parry shook his head. “Do you still make beer, Sarah? I need a few right now to better absorb all this.”
Sarah laughed. “Some things, Gramps, can’t be improved upon. Just like our hockey.” They walked into the nearby neighborhood pub and Parry looked around. He noticed there were no obese people. No health hounds either. He would have to ask Sarah about that.
There were more colored and fewer white people than he was accustomed to. Something he’d noticed in his extended family.
“In the year 2100 orientation, my sons told me that the continental borders had been opened but at the time didn’t how it would affect interracial relations. What happened?”
“It’s ongoing Gramps. Improved but still an issue. There was a great deal more intermarriage when the borders opened. But, parts of the population wanted to maintain racial and cultural diversity. Purely White pods have dwindled significantly, but still exist. The debate continues and governments are reluctant to step in as it impinges too much on individual human rights. Supposed race, mostly defined by skin color, is being redefined. As the lines are blurred, we hope, there is less emphasis on this aspect of our humanity. We’ll see.”
“But aren’t you diluting cultural diversity?”
“Gramps, it’s easier now with a more uniform economic system. Cultures can remain distinctive without prejudice, warfare, ostracization.”
“What about religion?”
Sarah replied. “You can worship whatever God you wish. But, God can’t interfere with politics. And, there are stiff penalties if you attempt to convert others. Our educational system teaches religious and cultural diversity along with science. But, at the end of the day, it’s the individual’s choice which God, if any, they worship.”
As Parry took a sip of his beer, thinking about all the hate and bloodshed race, religion, or simply being different, had created, he turned to the large screen that was streaming the latest news. Sea levels around the world were still rising and affecting coastal populations. He shook his head.
“I take it, Sarah, that we didn’t deal with our CO2 emissions fast enough.”
Sarah shook her head. “No, Gramps. At this rate we figure sea levels will continue to rise for another hundred years before things level out. Your generation may have prevented the next ice age though, even if it’s a long way off.”
A now guilty looking Parry asked, “But you can stop rising sea levels? Surely by now there are technologies to deal with this?”
“Like what, Gramps? How do you stop something so powerful, so enormous? By trying, we may do more damage than good. Like those health hounds.”
Parry had no answer for that. Sarah paused before continuing. “We have covered the remaining global ice packs with protective insulation, slowing down melting. We are desalinizing sea water and pumping it into world’s dried up lakes and aquifers. We could refill them and perhaps even develop more fresh water in some of our driest areas on earth to rejuvenate the land. Some day the Sahara Desert might be green again. That might reduce rising sea levels by half.” Sarah sighed and took a drink, watching the image of water lap up against some of the most beautiful cities in the world.
That evening Parry had dinner with his extended family. He saw no plastic or metal food containers only some sort of, presumably biodegradable, strange material. There was little leftover food. All leftover vegetable matter went into some sort of grinder and came out as a greenish-looking paste. He recalled that 8.8% of greenhouse gases were created by food waste and that rotting organic matter in landfills released deadly methane – twenty-eight times worse than CO2 emissions.
As Parry went to bed that night thinking, despite some of the still looming problems, this was a better world by far than the one he’d left. And finally, WE was defeating the problem of those slow swimmers. It had been a close race. The air pollution, lethal chemicals in plastics and the Covid pandemic, which all contributed to slow swimming human and dog sperm, were contained. For humans, and man’s best friend who shared his toxic environment, fertility levels had begun to rise.
Just before dozing off, Parry mumbled the words of a famous man, that reflected well this new world order and where it was trending.
“Our ability to reach unity in diversity will be the beauty and test of our civilization.”
Mahatma Gandhi
EndNote
Whether you like it, hate it, or fear it, it’s coming. Whether you think it will save the world. Or destroy us all, nanotechnology is upon us. And developing fast.
While this is a story of fiction, a lot of the technologies I write about here are almost a reality. In terms of becoming economically and practically feasible. Imagine a world where your very movements, or your car’s, which creates friction used to make enough electricity to supply our needs. Those nanotires in the story are a reality.
And those slow swimmers? Also a reality and a real concern among countries. Imagine the world’s populations plummeting. That would destroy entire economies. And perhaps even threaten the very survival of our species.
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.
I picked up this ground-stone granite maul on the Canadian prairies many years ago. I decided to try and make one like it. Hopefully by making one I would understand better the methods Indigenous peoples used, and also the amount of work involved.
In a previous post (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=2853&action=edit) I discussed Indigenous ground-stone technology on the Canadian prairies. I decided that because we knew so little on how some objects, such as grooved stone mauls, were made I would try to make one. This method of inquiry is known as ‘Experimental Archaeology’ – a sub-field of archaeology intended to gain insight into prehistoric methods people used by replicating them. These are a few of my thoughts after a little over a week of working on this project. As usual, whenever I take on projects like this there are some real eye-openers. So far, I haven’t been disappointed.
I managed to get in about four hours of work on the quartzite cobble I chose to make my ground-stone maul. Below is a photograph showing my progress pecking and grinding the stone maul. Most of you, after looking closely at this photograph, will probably think: ‘What progress? I don’t see any.’
My quartzite cobble that I chose to make a ground-stone maul, after about four hours of work. As is quite evident, there are some scratches on the cortex (the outer oxidized layer of the cobble) and ever-so slight grooving.
Well, let me explain. Perhaps another photograph will help. If you look at the cobble closely, at just the right angle, with just the right light, you can see a slight indentation on the cortex (the outer oxidized layer on the rock). You can actually feel it better than see it.
A closer view of my attempt to start a groove on the maul after about four hours of work. In places I may have broken through the cortex. But barely. I’m also finding it hard to aim the stone grooving tool and keep it straight. It kind of wants to wander everywhere. Once I have established a groove, it should become easier to direct my aim.
In short, it’s going to take a little longer than the eight hours someone estimated it took to make a granite grooved maul. At this rate with the methods I’m using, you might add one or two zeros to the number eight. I’ll explain my methods, and the tools I’m using to make the maul, to give you a better understanding WHY it’s taking me so long to make any progress.
Pecking? Forget It
First I thought I would try to peck the groove using a small quartzite pebble having the same hardness as the maul. That didn’t work worth a damn. Not only was the impact area of the pecking stone too round, it wore down faster than the cobble I was pecking. And, after forty-five minutes of banging away I was getting nowhere, fast. At first the surface of the cobble looked good with all the stone flour on it. Then I realized that the flour was coming off my pecking stone and not the cobble.
This method was a waste of time. At least for me. It might work better to form basalt hand-mauls, but is difficult to make an initial groove in the quartzite cobble this way. Also, the hammerstone I used was too large with too blunt an end to be accurate. And, while there was a lot of stone flour on the quartzite cobble, it was mostly from the hammerstone.
The end of the hammerstone I used to peck on the quartzite cobble, after about forty-five minutes. It was getting me nowhere. Quite a bit of wear on the hammerstone though.
Sawing and Grinding
Next, I found a small coarse-grained sandstone flake. I used a sawing motion across about two centimetres of the flake edge to grind a groove on the cobble. This method worked much better than pecking. After one hour, I thought I saw some of the natural pockmarks on the cobble surface begin to smooth out. But, there was no point measuring my progress. I don’t think they make instruments capable of measuring that small a depth. I was averaging about 150 – 155 strokes per minute using this sawing technique. Or, with one hour’s work, 9,000 – 9,300 strokes. My fingers cramped pretty badly after only one hour’s work.
I started grinding the cobble with this orthoquartzite or hard sandstone flake. I used the entire thin edge length of the flake to grind away on the cobble surface. This method worked moderately well, but after about one hour, the flake no longer had an effective edge and will have to be replaced or resharpened.
Continued Search for Just the Right Tool
The coarse-grained sandstone flake worked well enough. But was there something better? At this stage of the project, I’m still experimenting with various methods. Next, I fashioned a few more quartzite flakes. But this time I looked for flakes having burin-like tip (a type of handheld lithic flake with a chisel-like edge which prehistoric humans used for cutting wood or bone), or graver tips (lithic tool with a slightly more pointed tip than a burin), so that I could better gouge the surface of the maul.
This close-up view of a lithic burin tool used for cutting wood, bone and antler, also seems to work for grooving the quartzite cobble. From: https://www.quora.com/What-is-a-burin-used-for
In this photograph, I’m using a burin-like quartzite flake tool and pushing it forward on the quartzite cobble. I’m slowly but surely removing microscopic bits of quartzite to form the groove for the maul. At first, I just hand-held the flake. But after a while, it was doing more damage to my fingers than to the cobble. So, I wrapped it in a paper towel to prevent blisters (a real authentic touch). After about two hours of using this tool, the tip got dull. I retouched the edges of the flake to resharpen it. It should still work until at some point it becomes too small to effectively hold. I am also thinking of using a heavier, larger flake to apply more pressure on the edge. It might also be easier to hold.
If I held the flake at just the right angle (about 20 – 30 degrees) and pushed real hard, I felt I was scouring the cobble better than with the other two methods. However, if the flake point is held to low, not much scouring happened. If I held the flake too high, I couldn’t push it very well, or accurately. Blisters were starting to appear on my fingers, so I wrapped the flake in a paper towel. A piece of leather would do quite nicely as well. Occasionally I found my fore-finger scraping across the cobble as I pushed the flake.
Closeup of the tip of the quartzite flake, showing the wear from grinding on the stone maul. Also, the wear on my fingers holding the flake to grind the maul.
I’m working with rocks, which are good conductors of heat. I’m causing a lot of friction and heat when using the sawing methods. Perhaps dunking the flake tool in water, or adding water to maul surface, would prevent heat build-up.
A Few Closing Observations
It’s pretty obvious already that this project is going to take a long, long time to make. Unless I figure out a better method of incising my cobble. So far, both the sandstone saw and graving/gouging with considerable force on the flake work the best.
Patience is a key here. We live in a society of instant results and gratification. This project would be something you worked on all winter when there was less other work to do. Like knitting sweaters or large rugs, which took many hours to fashion. I also find that grinding away is a lot like distance running. Eventually, through repeated strokes which take little thinking, it puts your mind in a different place, relaxing it. We could all use a bit more of that in our present-day society.
Given the amount of work that I expect to put into making this tool (if I ever do), I would highly value it. In archaeology we call this curation. People would have valued these mauls because of the effort involved making them. If people were not carrying their mauls from one camp to another, then they would have carefully cached them for safety. Or there was some sort of agreement among families using the same camp, to leave the mauls after use. In a previous post (https://canehdianstories.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=2016&action=edit), on stone axes in Australia, I noted how highly prized they were among the Australian aborigines. Similar processes might have been operating here in the Americas with these mauls.
Indigenous people on the West Coast of Canada used more ground-stone technology to fashion stone tools than people on the prairies. The major reason may be related to access to more relatively softer (than quartzite) types of stone, such as basalt, for fashioning ground stone tools. I’m making my ground stone maul out of quartzite, the hardest and most common material available on the prairies. If I had a choice, knowing what I already know about this process, quartzite would not have been my first choice. Yet, most ground-stone mauls on the prairies are made from quartzite. The trade-off, however, is that a quartzite maul would not break as easily as mauls made of softer types of rocks.
These rather ornate hammerstones and grooved mauls are from the North West Coast of Canada. They are made mostly of basalt which is slightly easier to work than my quartzite cobble. However, even so, it would have taken a considerable amount of effort and ingenuity to fashion them. (Image from: Hilary Stewart, 1973. Artifacts of the Northwest Coast Indians. Hancock House Publishers.)
I just finished reading an article on how First Nations peoples in British Columbia, Canada, made nephrite adzes. Nephrite, on the Mohs hardness scale, is between 6 – 6.5. This material is slightly less hard than my wonder cobble, but still not that easy to carve. According to author, Hilary Stewart, people sawed nephrite boulders using a sandstone saw, with sand and water added for greater abrasion.
This series of sketches shows how archaeologists think nephrite boulders were cut into thin slabs which were then edged to make the highly prized nephrite adzes. As a sedimentary stone, sandstone has a hardness between 6 and 7. But the quartz fragments that it is composed of have a hardness of 7. So, as a saw this material would work well to cut/grind the hard quartzite. (Image from: Hilary Stewart, 1973. Artifacts of the Northwest Coast Indians. Hancock House Publishers.)
Maybe I’ll use a larger piece of sandstone next, and add a sand/water compound for more grit. And, a saw makes more sense since there is a greater surface area working to groove my cobble. With the flake burin I could only use a forward motion. Thus, a sawing tool having a greater edge area and back and forth motion should be much more efficient than a tiny tip of stone being pushed in only one direction. However, having said that, often what we think works best, doesn’t always materialize into reality. That’s why experimenting with these techniques is so important.
But, what kind of edge should the stone saw have to be most effective?
In this series of diagrams a piece of nephrite is cut using a sandstone saw. Note the upper three diagrams. Before use the saw blade edge is a V-shape. Then after grinding/cutting the nephrite, it becomes rounded from use, probably making it less effective to cut a thin groove, but still useful to form a wider groove in the rock, which is necessary for my grooved stone maul. Perhaps this is a natural, necessary progression. We start with a thin, deep groove when the sandstone edge is thin, then as it gets rounder it widens the groove. (Image from: Hilary Stewart, 1973. Artifacts of the Northwest Coast Indians. Hancock House Publishers.)
Stay tuned. I’ll check in again after reaching another sort of milestone with my project. However, I’m going to rethink what type of grinding tool to use and what it should be made out of. That’s what happens when, after four hours of hard work, you can barely see any progress. Suddenly creativity sets in.
