“There is a history in all men’s lives.”
William Shakespeare
Who was Anthony Henday?
Whenever I travel down Anthony Henday Drive in Edmonton, Alberta, I am reminded of this man’s journey to Alberta 266 years ago; and of my own somewhat peculiar involvement in it. You see, there are many ways to explore and understand human history. I thought I might gain more insight into that sometimes murky past by doing something a little different. But, before I tell you about what I did, first we need a little background about Anthony Henday.
Anthony Henday’s journey to Alberta
In the first half of 1990s the then Provincial Museum of Alberta wanted to develop a new First Nations gallery of culture (which opened in 1997). My job was to help develop a First Nations-European contact display. Anthony Henday I thought. That’s a great contact story. A no brainer. ‘Who is that’, you ask? You know, the dude who, in 1754, paddled, rode, walked, from Hudson Bay to Alberta to ask the ‘Archithinue’ (probably Blackfoot) to come to York Factory to trade (a distance of over 1,500km). He was one of the first white men to contact them in our province. (The French may have been in Alberta earlier. But that is another story).
“…where we were conducted to the Leader’s tent; which was at one end, large enough to contain fifty persons; where he received us seated on a clear (white) Buffalo skin, attended by 20 elderly men….Attickasish my Guide, informed him I was sent by the Great Leader who lives down at the great waters, to invite his young men down to see him and to bring with them Beaver skins, & Wolves skins; & they would get in return Powder, Shot, Guns, Cloth, Beads, &c. He made little answer: only said that it was far off, & they could not paddle.” (from Anthony Henday’s journal, October 14, 1754, somewhere near Innisfail, Alberta)
After the Blackfoot leader turned down his request, Henday wandered around Alberta for the rest of the winter with his Cree and Assiniboine companions, not really knowing where he was and almost totally dependent on them: November 16, 1754. “Women making cloathing for cold weather…” Those women made his clothing as well, or he likely would have froze to death. The group eventually ended up near or at Edmonton in the spring of 1755.
Over the years there has been considerable controversy surrounding Henday’s journal (of which there are four different versions, none being his original) and his journey west. Was the whole thing a fabrication? Did he travel this far west? And, how do we know Henday ended up in or near Edmonton? His journal entries are quite specific on both direction and distance; and, occasionally land-forms. Before coming to Canada he was a seaman (some think a smuggler) in England. Sailing required a rudimentary knowledge of navigation including the use of a compass. Note the direction and distance of some of Henday’s journal entries: Sunday, October 12, 1754: “Travelled 8 Miles. S.W.b.W.”; Wednesday, October 30, 1754: “Travelled 4 Miles W.b.N.”; Thursday, November 7, 1754. “Travelled 4 Miles N.W.”
These are compass bearings. it is highly likely Henday was using a compass rose such as the one shown below:
There are also a lot of problems when taking Henday’s directions and distances and plotting them on a modern map to see where he traveled. Alwynne Beaudoin, Royal Alberta Museum, and I did just that realizing, and taking into account, that magnetic north in 1754 would not have been the same as it is today (see our article for more detail, listed in the references at the end of this blog). Also, how accurate was Henday in estimating distances in a canoe, on horseback or on foot? Here’s roughly the route that many of us think Henday took when he got near Edmonton. He likely came up Saunders Lake, and the Gwynne Channel (located south of Edmonton which connects to Blackmud Creek.) His journal entries indicate that after journeying up Saunders Lake, he trekked approximately 20km on the ice of a river until he reached the North Saskatchewan River. (A cursory look on a map of the Edmonton region shows there are not many creeks or rivers big enough to choose from). He most likely continued north up the Gwynne Channel, and then followed Blackmud Creek (which connects to Whitemud Creek) until he reached the North Saskatchewan River, putting him in today’s Edmonton – a distance of approximately 20km.
The Making of the Anthony Henday Diorama
We developed a diorama with Henday sitting in a large tipi feasting with the Blackfoot leader. One side of the tipi was open displaying a large mural depicting the rolling landscape in the Innisfail area and the camp’s curious onlookers peering in, having probably never seen a white man before:
Casting My Head and Hands
We needed mannequins in the Henday diorama, including Henday. I was asked if I would like to be Henday. To do that, I would have to have my head and hands cast. Without much hesitation or forethought, I agreed. What better way to get into character, and perhaps even divine what this guy was like 250 years ago. Really get inside Henday’s head.
In hindsight what was I thinking? I didn’t realize that in order to be Henday I had to have my head and hands encased in cement – well, a form of plaster of Paris. My mustache was shaved off, my eyebrows greased up and my hair covered in plastic. (Those of you who are claustrophobic should maybe stop reading this blog now.) First, they greased up my hands, then poured plaster over them, and told me not to move them. Of course, as soon as they said that I immediately wanted to move my hands. It took twenty minutes for the plaster to set and I managed hold up, kind of. But the worst was yet to come.
My head was next. What I didn’t know was that my entire head would be covered in plaster. My only connection to life consisted of two small nose holes to let me breath. At that point lots of things went through my mind; mostly of what potentially could go wrong. So, they poured plaster over my entire head with just those two little holes connecting me to life. ‘Just try to relax Heinz. This won’t take long.’ I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t see. My head was getting rather warm as the plaster set. The only thing I remember thinking, was: ‘Don’t panic, don’t start hyperventilating or you will suck plaster up your nose.’
Despite my worst fears, the results turned out pretty good, as you can see from these images. I was dressed in the style of the time period. I received hair and a beard. Thousands of people have looked at me (Henday) over the years, not knowing who I really was. I’m still sitting there on a billboard beside the Queen Elizabeth II Highway, near Innisfail, Alberta, somewhere near where Henday probably met the Archithinue in 1754.
As to being any wiser about Henday’s life, having my head encased in plaster? I would not recommend this method to anyone.
The Henday diorama and the old Provincial Museum of Alberta are gone. So is my head. I am in the process of asking about it; maybe even getting it back. I just talked to the Director of the new Royal Alberta Museum, Mr. Chris Robinson, about my head. (He didn’t even know that I was in that diorama posing as Henday; it was before his time as director). He’s looking for it. Wish me luck.
Note: Hey, Edmontonians, or other Albertans, Canadians, take a survey of how many people know about Anthony Henday. At your next dinner party, on the streets of Edmonton, your local hockey rink. Wherever. Ask people who Anthony Henday is and what he means to this City. I’d love to hear the results. I would guess, approximately only one-third of the people you ask will know, yet many of us see that sign almost every day. I’m doing my own survey and will post all results in a later blog. Maybe by then I will have found my head.
References
Beaudoin, Alwynne Beaudoin and Heinz W. Pyszczyk. 1998. Where Was Anthony Henday and What Did He See? Alberta Archaeological Review 28:25-31. [Alwynne Beaudoin and I traveled around the Innisfail area trying to use Henday’s directions to find land-forms and reconstruct his journey. As we crested a rather high hill that morning, I looked west and saw the Rocky Mountains, as Henday might have. I (and others) always wondered why he never mentioned them in his journal, until I read a quote from David Thompson about those same mountains: “At length the Rocky Mountains came in sight like shining white clouds in the horizon, but we doubted what our guide said; but as we proceeded, they rose in height their immense masses of snow appeared above the clouds…” (David Thompson’s journals. In Travels in Western North America, 1784-1812, edited by Victor G. Hopwood, pp.94.) And, then once the humidity had increased in the afternoon, we could no longer see them.
Burpee, Lawrence J. [editor] 1973. The Journal of Anthony Henday, 1754-55. York Factory to the Blackfoot Country. Canadian House, Toronto. [There is a lot of controversy around Henday’s journal, of which there are four different versions, and where exactly he traveled. Some scholars even claim they are a fabrication. However, based on his descriptions of land-forms, rivers, and directions, I believe he did make it to Alberta. Just not always where Burpee puts him. Despite all these problems, the Henday journal is a great little read]
MacGregor, J.G. 1954. Behold the Shining Mountains. Applied Arts Products Ltd., Edmonton, Alberta. [Historian, James MacGregor also plotted Henday’s route from Hudson Bay to Alberta, based on his journal entries. It differs considerably from Burpee’s map. Burpee has Henday turning south, after meeting the Archithinue, and returning to York Factory, via the Red Deer River while MacGregor has him turning north and ending up along the North Saskatchewan River. Almost al Henday’s entries after that meeting are to the west and north.]
Scott, Stephen P. 1997. A Puzzle Revisited: Historiography and Documentary Problems in the Journals of Anthony Henday (MA). University of Winnipeg/University of Manitoba. [If you really want to get into the details of Henday’s life and journal, then Mr. Scott’s MA is a good read.]