When I took my first trowel strokes, as a field school student at the historic Hudson’s Bay Company Fort Victoria (c.1864 – 1898), Alberta in 1974, I knew immediately I could get to like this work. Nearly fifty years later that feeling remains.
Canada has a long, colourful, and often tumultuous fur trade history. The fur trade, in beaver pelts, was the prime economic driver of early Canada for over three centuries. However, the trade was often viewed with either disdain or opportunity by Canada’s First Nations people who participated in it.
“Of what use to us are the skins of beavers, wolves, and foxes? Yet it is for these we get guns and axes.” (First Nations leader, Kootenae Appee, c.1808, recorded by David Thompson)
What the people of the Canadian fur trade did and how they lived is preserved in the thousands of documents left behind by Company officers, clerks, explorers, and first missionaries. It was occasionally captured in paintings by frontier artists such as Paul Kane.
But fur trade history is also preserved in the remains of many fur trade forts constructed across Canada as it expanded westward in search of new fur-rich lands. Often those fur trade forts left behind a rich archaeological record.
Alberta is no exception. In fact, the then AthapuskowCountry in today’s northern Alberta, was among the richest fur districts in North America. When American fur trader Peter Pond first discovered it in 1778, he acquired so many furs that he had to cache some because he couldn’t take them all back to Montreal.
I am often asked, how many fur trade establishments were there in Alberta? According to our Alberta inventories, that number is over 300. We are probably missing a few forts that were never recorded in the sometimes ‘sketchy’ historic documents. And as Alexander Ross’s description of Fort Assiniboine suggests, some of these places hardly deserved the name ‘fort’.
“…a petty post erected on the north bank of the river, and so completely embosomed in the woods, that we did not catch a glimpse of it until we were among huts, and surrounded by howling dogs and screeching children. At this sylvan retreat there were but three rude houses….and there was not a picket or palisade to guard them from either savage or bear. This mean abode was dignified with the name of fort.” (HBC Fort Assiniboine, 1825, described by Alexander Ross)
Many of these forts have not been found. Often their locations were poorly documented. The physical evidence they left behind is difficult to see in the dense bush when traipsing through Alberta’s densely forested river valleys.
In the dense bush of the Peace River floodplain, there are only a few hints suggesting a fur trade post once existed there – mounds representing collapsed building fireplaces and depressions representing cellars or some other type of pit. Occasionally faint depressions marking the ditches dug to place in the palisade pickets for the fort walls, still appear on the surface of the ground.
But even these features are often hard to see. Despite having found the Boyer River fort site thirty years earlier, it took over an hour to relocate a few depressions and mounds in the dense undergrowth of the Peace River floodplain.
The fur trade documentary record leaves many things to be desired. It is often a biased, one-sided description of the trade and the more important members operating in it. Company workers and Indigenous people have little or no voice in those documents.
Despite being an incomplete testimony of human history, the archaeological remains we find reflect not only the lives of a literate few but also those of the many Company servants and Indigenous peoples living at the posts who left no written record behind. Their lives are reflected in the dwellings they lived in, the possessions they made or bought, and the food they ate.
Fur trade society was stratified, primarily by one’s occupation, ethnicity, and gender. The fur trade archaeological and documentary records reveal that those individuals in the highest positions had access to the best resources. Officers’ quarters were bigger, and better constructed than those of the servants 4.
“…while the exterior is fair enough with its winter porch, protected doors, the inside was somewhat of a maze and more like a rabbit warren is supposed to be, both in excess of occupants…” (George Simpson McTavish describing the servants’ quarters at an inland fort)
The schematic drawing of the buildings at the North West Company Fort George (c.1792 – 1800) is a case in point. This drawing was completed primarily from archaeological remains since no map of the fort existed. The men’s quarters on the left housed the Company workers and their families, sometimes holding up to 10 – 12 people in tiny, confined single rooms. These dwellings were dwarfed by Chief Trader, Angus Shaw’s two-storey Big House, where he and his family resided.
The personal possessions of the Fort population inform us about their gender, beliefs, and cultural affiliations. For example, early in the fur trade when metals were new to Indigenous people, old, leaky copper pots and larger pieces of silver were repurposed and made into jewelry.
Copper and silver tinkling cones and tags, likely made by the Indigenous wives of Company men, were highly prized objects often replacing or incorporated with traditional shell and bone adornment. They also remind us of the importance of women in the trade and everyday operation of the forts.
The inequality existing among fur trade ranks is also reflected in their diet. During the early years of the western fur trade, wild game made up most of the food fort personnel ate. Often our fur trade posts contain an abundant, rich array of faunal remains.
Those animal bones, along with the surviving documents, show the large quantities of meat eaten by fort personnel. Meat and fat were rationed differently, depending on employees’ rank and position at the fort. Officers and their families often had more and better cuts of meat and were given more of the highly prized fat.
“…we have finished a Glaciere containing 500 thighs & shoulders for the consumption of April & May…” (Clerk, Duncan McGillivray, Fort George, 1794-95, describing the amount of meat required to feed the fort inhabitants.)
That amount of meat, representing 500 animals (likely bison), consumed over approximately sixty-one days, averages out to about most of eight bison a day required to feed the 160 hungry mouths at Fort George.
Category
Fresh Meat
Dried Meat
Pounded Meat
Grease
Officers Mess(2 persons)
2250 lbs
57 lbs
57 lbs
105 lbs
Officers Families (6 adults)
4283
159
6
108
Engages (8 persons)
7752
576
576
18
Engages Families (3 adults)
2612
148
148
4
Meat rations at Fort Vermilion II, 1832-33. While the Engages and their families are getting less fresh, dried, and pounded meat than the officers, they received far less fat per individual than the Officers and their families. 6
Despite the Northwest’s seemingly endless supply of resources, the fur trade’s impact on game animal populations soon showed, often in ugly ways.
“…we learn from Mr. McTavish that they are in a starving condition at Lac Verd, there being forced to pick up the fish Bones which they threw out last fall to prolong their miserable existence.” (Journal of Duncan McGillivray, 1794-95)
Alberta’s fur trade era, and that of the rest of Canada, has left a rich and varied historic footprint. It represents not only how an elite, literate portion of the population of the fur trade lived, but also how the rest of the many employees, representing a diverse number of ethnic groups, fared. While considered a darker side of Canadian colonialism, it nevertheless is part of Canadian history and cannot be ignored.
Pyszczyk, Heinz. 1992. The Architecture of the Western Canadian Fur Trade: A Cultural-Historical Perspective. Society for the Study of Architecture in Canada, Bulletin 17(2):32-41[↩]
D from Kate Duncan. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Beadwork. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas and McIntyre, Vancouver.[↩]
“…colours are the mother tongue of the subconscious” (Karl Jung)
“Even if people don’t think too hard about the colours they prefer, they are subconsciously programmed to associate certain colours with specific situations and emotions: and this is true for adults all over the globe.” 1
Note: I’ve posted two blogs about beads in human antiquity and those we find in western Canada during the post-contact period (starting approximately c.1680). In them you will find many examples of glass bead types, found in an array of colours. In this third, and final blog I’ll examine one glass trade bead attribute in considerably more detail – colour.
I’ve always been fascinated by colour. Beautiful hues and shades of red, blue and green are found both in nature and on the objects humans make.
Often I don’t know why I choose one colour over another. Others, however, know where to look for answers. As the title of this blog suggests, contemporary Indigenous beaders, such as Anishinaabe Malinda Joy Gray, know where to find their ‘spirit colours’. In their dreams. 2
Therefore, to better understand colour, I study it. Not only from my personal perspective. But from those of others as well. I examine how we choose a colour with one of the most colourful historic objects that humans ever made – beads. Beads, fashioned from every conceivable material throughout history, in almost every conceivable colour.
Nor it seems do others. Oh, I understand why plants are green and water is blue. Why hares are brown in the summer and white in the winter. But I’m often baffled why humans choose certain colours. Because when you look closely at their choices, there often are no set rules for doing so. Or obvious reasons for their choice. There are exceptions. But for the most part, humans choose colours for a host of reasons which are often very difficult to unravel and explain.
In this blog, I’ll examine the selection of historic bead colours more closely. First, I’ll start with a little background on why we choose specific colours, and how they affect us. Then, with a current example that we all can relate to, how we choose the colour of our automobiles. Finally, I’ll examine the colours of historic glass trade beads from Canada and the United States. Did Indigenous people prefer specific colours of beads over others and, if so, why? It’s a fascinating journey that takes us from the practical to some very unorthodox ways of thinking about colour. And the world we live in.
Theories of Colour Choice and Effects
“There isn’t really a rational influence to our decisions other than the color evokes an emotional and physiological response in us. Ultimately we decide what colors we like because of what we associate them with and the meaning that accompanies them.” 3
Theories about human colour choice can be divided into two basic categories: 1) theories about how certain colours affect us; and, 2) theories about why we choose certain colours.
Different colours evoke different feelings in humans. Research shows that blood pressure and EEC scores differed when subjects looked at a certain coloured sheet of paper. 3 For example, red produced a higher anxiety state in people than blue.
The reason why people choose certain colours is often associated with the cultural meanings of those colours. But, here things get a little tricky. Certain colours do not project the same meaning in different cultures, countries, or even regionally. Nor do they historically. 4
“In Japan, the color yellow is associated with courage whereas in parts of the American south it can be slang for cowardice. In many Latin American cultures, it’s the color of mourning and death. In China, yellow can have vulgar connotations. In Germany, you go yellow—not green—with envy. Head over to the Middle East and you’ll find yellow is imperial and sacred (not purple, which is associated with royalty in European cultures) often worn by members of the ruling or royal classes.” 1
However, we can make a few generalizations about colour choice and meaning. For example, people in different countries liked blue, green and white the most which often also had similar meanings (i.e., white = purity, cleanliness). However, they also liked black and red, but the meaning of those colours varied cross-culturally.
Currently, the most popular theory of why humans choose certain colours is referred to as Ecological Valence Theory. In short, this theory states that humans prefer certain colours over others because of objects they either like or dislike associated with that colour. 5
“…people often like blue hues because it reminds them of clear skies and clean water. On the other hand, people tend to shy away from brown hues because they remind us of feces or rotting food… 6
I happen to own a pair of brown pants. As an archaeologist who often works in the dirt and associates it with good things, perhaps that’s the reason I’m among the few who like brown.
Some researchers have even gone so far as to suggest that is difficult if not impossible to find a negative object to associate with blue. In other words, there are few blue objects we think about negatively.
Other theories state that colour has functions. For example, the colours you choose inform others about yourself, your family or your group. Or, certain objects are certain colours because of their high degree of visibility. According to one researcher, among the western Canadian Metis, many objects such as firebags, mitts, and whips were highly colourful so they wouldn’t get lost. 7 I can relate to this idea. When working in the boreal forest we tie bright orange flagging tape to our equipment so we don’t lose it in the dense foliage.
Whatever the reason(s), the choice of colour and the feelings we associate with it, is far from a random event. Whether we consciously know it, or not.
The Colours of the Automobiles We Drive
Before examining why people preferred certain glass bead colours historically, we’ll first look at colour choice in an object we all can relate to. The colour of our automobiles.
In a recent article in Autoloansolutions, the three main reasons people pick certain colours for their automobiles are: 1) Personal preference; 2) Resale value; and, 3) Bird droppings. 8
Yes, you read right. Bird Droppings! According to some studies, for whatever reason, birds like to dump most on red and blue cars.
As already suggested certain colours have certain meanings in human cultures and therefore signal to others something about you. In the automobile article, for example, black = intrigue/mystery; blue = confidence/integrity/stability; red = aggressive/expensive; white = innocence/purity.
However, according to colour symbolism experts, each of those same colours may have different meanings in different countries throughout the world. But, studies have shown, regardless of where you live on this planet and what those colours signify, black, white, and silver are the top colours for automobiles.
And this is where resale value comes in. If you want to eventually sell your car, you might pay attention to the most popular colours for cars (if they’re still in style when you want to sell). Given today’s colour preferences, no one’s going to buy that bright neon green auto of yours.
My Automobile Colour Study
I did a little automobile colour study in Alberta (Canada), Iceland, Istanbul (Turkey), and Stellenbasch (South Africa) this past year. I picked spots at random and counted the number of different car colours. My sample size ranged from 52 – 115. Today colours are no longer primary or secondary but different shades of grey, blue, silver and white; and a dizzying array thereof. I simply chose the one that was closest to a primary and secondary colour.
“Gray is the color of intellect and of compromise. It’s a diplomatic color, negotiating all the distance between black and white. We typically consider gray to be conservative, elegant, and cool, though it can be a bit mysterious. We think of gray as solemn and serious, the color of business suits and sophistication.”9
What theories about colour, including my automobile study, basically point out is that even though there is considerable overlap of colour choice among peoples throughout the world, there is often a difference in the ranking of those preferences in different parts of the world. And the meaning of those colours is not constant in the world. The meaning of black differs in the Muslim and Western world. Grey is considered a very conservative colour in the West. In China silver is a symbol of wealth, cleanliness, and purity; in Germany, sophistication.
The bottom line is that trying to interpret meaning from colour, only leads to a diverse array of possibilities. Many of which cannot be determined if we cannot ask people about them. Such as the historic period. That is because, if Ecological Valence Theory has any merit, people’s choices of colour are based on their associations and history with it – either bad, good or perhaps neutral. Many of those associations and histories are different to some degree. However, what is also interesting is that white, silver, and grey are all seen as positive, regardless of their different specific meanings.
Therefore, if we simplify these results, we might conclude that the most popular colours are associated with positive objects, feelings and meanings, regardless of what those are. When we dive into the murky past, this fundamental fact becomes important, because we cannot always determine precisely what meanings or significance of colours were for a diverse North American Indigenous population.
A Description of Fur Trade Glass Bead Colours in Historic Canada
“Oh I love all colours, I go to a store where they have beads and I imagine all kinds of flowers and I pick up everything when I’m in there – colours I don’t have. I must have over 200 kinds of colours…” (Isabelle Dorion Impey, Cumberland House, northern Saskatchewan, Canada) 10
Sources of Information and Accuracy About Historic Glass Bead Colours
Information about fur trade bead colours and varieties comes primarily from historic White written records and fur trade archaeological collections. And, unfortunately, less so from historic Indigenous written or oral accounts.
The accuracy of these types of historic evidence varies. Written accounts can be biased or records vague, or incomplete. But while there are problems, it should be kept in mind that Euro-Canadian traders had to be accurate about Indigenous bead preferences because their very business depended upon it.
Glass beads recovered from the fur trade archaeological record reflect both what was used by Indigenous women living in the forts and what was traded to Indigenous people regionally.
Basic Characteristics of Colour and Its Description
To better understand glass bead colours we first have to know a few things about colour. Not only what different colours look like, but how they are categorized and described.
The standardization of different colours first started with Issac Newton’s colour wheel in 1666, and eventually to other standardized schemes including the Munsell colour system, developed by Albert Munsell in the early 1900s.
The charts classify colours numerically based on three categories in three-dimensional space: hue, value (lightness/darkness), and chroma (intensity of colour). Hue refers to basic colours, such as red, green, blue, etc. In the Munsell system, these are given letter codes, i.e. Red (R), Yellow-Red (YR), Green (G), Green-Yellow (GY) and so on. Value is how light or dark a colour is. In the Munsell system, value is indicated with a number, i.e. 2, 4, 6 and so on. The value scale runs vertically and moves from lightest (at the top) to darkest (at the bottom) in descending order, so a 2 is going to be lighter than a 6. Chroma refers to the degree of strength of a colour. Chroma ranges from 2-14 (upwards of 30 for colours in the fluorescent family). Archaeologists, when researching glass bead colour, also refer to diaphaneity – the degree of transparency or opacity of a bead, or, the quantity of light that can travel through a bead.
However, the Munsell Colour Chart is not the Holy Grail of colours. Based on my personal experience, the problem with this colour scheme is threefold: 1) it wasn’t used historically to describe colours; so the historic colours don’t match the Munsell colour descriptions; 2) it isn’t used consistently by archaeologists; and, 3) people see colours of objects differently depending on their eyesight, the degree of light present, or even the degree of moisture in sediment, for example. These problems, added to the fact that glass bead batch colours were often not standardized, make for an interesting stew.
“All told, therefore, there is room for considerable variation in colour, and 18th-century and earlier beads differ considerably in this regard from those made in the 19th and 20th centuries when strict standardization became the rule.”14
I am certain that European glass bead makers devised their bead colours using some sort of basic standard scheme, as some of the descriptions of historic bead colours suggest. For example in the Fort Union, Montana inventories, glass beads are listed as ‘blue, white, chalk white, red, green, black, yellow, coral, Cornelian, mock garnet, milk white, agate, sky blue, and purple. 15 While all the basic hues are listed, value, and chroma are absent or somehow embedded in the colour’s name. Milk or chalk white might be descriptors for diaphaneity, in this case likely ‘translucent’ or ‘opaque’. If you look up ‘Cornelian’, it refers to a variety of oranges and reds to almost black, which if we don’t have the bead, really doesn’t tell us much. And ‘sky blue’ likely refers to a bead’s value on the lightness/darkness scale, but where exactly is often difficult to determine from the name in the historic documents.
While determining a bead’s colour by using the various colour wheels has its drawbacks, the importance of these colour descriptions of glass beads recovered in the archaeological record is considerable, given the often poor, inconsistent historic documentary descriptions available. However, many of the archaeological bead colour descriptions are of our making, often based on the colour wheel such as Munsell’s. But, at least we can assign photographs of the beads with these descriptions, giving readers the opportunity of seeing these colours.
In the table below, is a word description of glass seed bead colours, from the American Fur Company (1858-59). Since colour wheels and some sort of standardization were already common then, would these colours also be similar to what we call them today?
Before delving further into glass bead colour, my final warning is that at a comparative level, between different glass bead assemblages collected archaeologically, the data are a minefield to be trodden through carefully. And so is the photography of different glass bead colours in the available publications. According to archaeologist Steven Devore, there is colour distortion when looking at photographed beads. He is one of the few researchers who try to get around this problem by using a colour bar in his photographs and describing exactly what Munsell colour it represents. I have borrowed his idea and applied it to some of the figures below.
Archaeologists come in two forms when it comes to categorizing glass bead colour. There are ‘lumpers’ and there are ‘splitters’. Some archeologists have used the Munsell Colour chart extensively (listing hue, value, and chroma); others to a lesser extent when analyzing bead colours. Still, others haven’t bothered with variety/shades of colours. They use mostly colour hue in their descriptions, with some degree of ‘value’ (light, medium, dark), and ‘diaphaneity’ (transparent, translucent, opaque). As we shall see shortly, both methods have their advantages and disadvantages.
Below is an example of a range of glass bead colours taken from both American and Canadian fur trade forts from western North America. The colour varieties go from one extreme to the other and are often difficult to compare unless the actual bead is illustrated in colour.
Bead Color
NWC George (1792-1800)
Nottingham House (1801-03)
Fort D’Tremble (1791-98)
Fort Union (1829-67)
Fort Vancouver (1829-66)
Amber
x
x
Light amber
x
Reddish amber
Yellowish amber
x
Amethyst
x
Opaque black
x
x
x
x
x
Blue
x
x
x
x
x
Light blue
x
x
x
Shadow blue
x
x
Turquoise blue
x
x
x
Aqua blue
x
Dark blue
x
x
Dutch blue
x
Medium blue
x
Dusty blue
x
Copen blue
x
Grayish blue
x
Purplish blue
x
Light purplish blue
x
Dark purplish blue
x
Dark brown
x
Cinnamon
x
Colorless
x
x
x
Green
x
x
x
x
x
Light green
x
Dark pale green
x
x
x
x
Aqua green
x
x
x
Apple green
x
Palm green
x
x
x
Yellowish green
x
Light gold
x
x
Light gray
x
x
Pink
x
x
Light pink
x
Light purple
x
Bluish purple
x
Light reddish purple
x
Dark purple
x
x
Red
x
x
Red-blue
x
Brownish red
Light red
x
Dark red
x
x
Dark purplish red
x
Opague redwood
x
x
Rose
x
Light cherry rose
x
Rose wine
x
x
x
Ruby
x
x
Scarlet
x
Turquoise
x
Bright turquoise
x
Opague white
x
x
x
x
x
Oyster white
x
Pale yellow white
x
Yellow
x
x
x
x
Greenish yellow
x
Varieties =
11
20
21
19
29
Basic colors =
8
6
8
9
9
The presence of glass bead colour hues and varieties (according to value, chroma, and diaphaneity). Some archaeologists list basic hues and diaphaneity, and perhaps a value. While others, such as Lester Ross, National Parks Service, go into considerably more detail in glass bead colour description. I will consider Ross’s bead colour descriptions in more detail below.
Archaeologist Wayne Davis lists glass bead colours for twenty-six historic fur trade sites and Indigenous sites in Canada and the USA, but keeps it relatively simple: white, blue, black, green, yellow, red, pink, purple, turquoise, amber, grey, magenta, orange, clear, and violet. Each of those basic colours could be opaque, translucent, or transparent, resulting in a slightly different value and chroma, and thus ultimately a different shade of colour. 18
Bead Color
Period I: 1700-1740
Period II: 1741-67
Period IIIa: 1768-80
Period IIIb: 1781-1820
Period IV: 1821-36
1837-1850
Brittany
x
Blue op
x
xxx
x
xxx
xx
Gobelin
x
Blue tls
x
x
xxx
Fern green
x
x
Black
xxxxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xx
White op
xxxxx
x
xxxx
xxxxxx
xxx
Magenta op
x
Magenta-black
xx
Red op
x
xxxx
x
Amber-black
Green op
x
xxxx
xx
Yellow op
x
xxx
x
Purple
xxxx
x
Brown, dark
xx
Yellow-black
xx
blue tls
x
x
xx
Green, tsl
xxxxxx
Clear
xx
x
xxx
xx
Magenta tsl
xx
Light Blue tsl
x
xx
x
Dark Blue tsl
xx
x
x
xx
xxx
Violet tsl
x
Maroon op
x
Green, dark op
x
Violet-black
x
Amber tsl
x
xx
xxx
xx
Pink tsl
x
x
Red tsl
xxxxxx
xxxxxx
xx
Navy blue
x
Pale green tsl
x
Dark violet tsl
x
x
Dark red tsl
x
Sky blue op
x
xx
Peacock blue tsl
x
x
x
xxx
Yellow, tsl
xx
Emerald green
xx
x
x
Pink op
x
Yale blue tsl
xxx
xxx
Dark green tsl
x
Yellow-amber tsl
x
Turquoise op
x
x
xx
xx
xx
Dark wine stsl
x
Gold op
x
White tsl
x
x
x
xx
Bronze op
x
Bright orange
x
Yellow-orange
x
Cobalt blue tsl
x
Jade green op
x
x
Indigo blue
x
Peacock blue op
xx
Robin’s egg blue op
xx
Dark purple tsl
x
Brilliant blue tsl
x
Yellow op
xx
Aquamarine op
xx
Peacock green op
x
Yale blue op
x
Surf green op
x
Heliotrope op
x
Pearl white
x
Chrystal
x
Total Varieties
10
19
6
14
42
27
***(tsp = transparent; tsl = translucent; op = opaque)
Wayne Davis’s glass trade bead colours were taken from 26 trading posts and First Nations archaeological sites from the USA and Canada. The glass beads range from as early as c.1700 to c.1850. The x’s in each column represent how often the various glass bead colour types occur in each period found in the various collections. Because the number of sites and beads in each period varies, the number of colour varieties may not be a true reflection of preference for each period. However, after 1820 when fur trade posts were established further west in the USA, and direct trading at posts began there is a greater proliferation of bead colour varieties. This increase in varieties may have more to do with glass bead assemblages coming from trading posts instead of Indigenous campsites.
I have taken Lester Ross’s glass bead colour scheme and presented his colours, to give you some idea of the range and variation in glass bead colour. Often it is considerable, even in just one primary colour. This enormous collection of over 120,000 beads, spanning a considerable period likely contains every possible bead colour ever sent to the fort. It would reflect what the Hudson’s Bay Company would have in stock at the time in that region. I personally, after looking a many fur trade assemblages, rarely see beads outside Ross’s bead colour range. The exceptions may be gold and silver beads which are more common in the latter part of the 19th century.
Below are examples of Ross’s Fort Vancouver glass bead colour varieties. I have listed the Munsell code under each colour so that if you wish you can check these published colours against those found in the Munsell colour chart. I found, even when pasting certain colours into a word program that the colours occasionally changed slightly.
Historic References to Indigenous Colour Preference and Meaning
I was fascinated by an article about the use of colour on the Northwest Coast, written in the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian, by Melonie Ancheta. 21 In it she makes two very important points about the meaning and use of colour: 1) Northwest Coast First Nations had a long history (before colonization) of using colours – primarily black, red, blue and green; and, 2) these colours were integrated into their culture, their, “…cosmologies, rituals and daily life…”
And, as Ancheta points out, there were long-standing rules, or customs, of ways of using these colours and painting specific pieces of art or spiritual attire. Or certain colours were associated with certain segments of Northwest Coast society. Blue (made from vivianite), 22 for example was more associated with shamans, clan treasures, ceremonial objects, and reserved for nobility in Tlingit society.
My point is, that before European contact, many primary colours (red, yellow, blue, green, white, black) 24 were already well-established in North American Indigenous societies. There were likely rules for their use (now mostly lost) and meaning behind them. Glass trade beads, and the various colours they came in, were integrated into already well-established Indigenous traditional schemes.
Since blue was difficult to make, it’s not surprising to find historic quotes stating that on North America’s Northwest Coast, many First Nations tribes valued blue glass trade beads the most. Just how the introduction of these beads, now more readily acquired by anyone who would trade, affected traditional uses of the colour (which because the mineral vivianite was hard to acquire and therefore relegated to only certain objects and people), is a question worth considering. 25
And on the Great Plains of North America, various First Nations societies had similar preferences. Here are a few examples:
Among the Arikara: “…any object which exceeds that of a buffalo robe. Ammunition, knives, spears, blue beads, tomahawks, and framed mirrors are the only articles for which they are willing to exchange their robes.”26
Among the Sioux: “The blue bead, as precious here as porcelain among the nations of the Mississippi…”27
Archaeologist Wayne Davis summarizes colour preferences (supported by numerous historic quotes), by North American Plains First Nations this way:
“As these different excerpts seem to suggest, blue and white, in that order, were without question the most popular colors for all the Plains’ tribes, as well as for many of the tribes in the Pacific Northwest and elsewhere.” 28
Undoubtedly as the archaeological glass bead samples suggest, although Indigenous people used other bead colours, blue and white glass trade beads were by far the most common. In 1854, for example, according to ethnographer, Edwin Denig discussing glass bead colour preference on the Upper Missouri, “Small round beads of all colors are used in adorning every portion of their dress.”29
It is evident then, that there was also a great deal of commonality in glass bead colour preference amongst different Indigenous groups over a large geographical area. As an example, western Plains and coastal peoples preferred blue and white beads over all others. Archaeologist Steven DeVore (1992:60-61) states that blue, white and black were generally the most popular colours amongst Northern Plains First Nations, but red, green, yellow, and lavender were also used but in smaller quantities. 30
During the initial contact period in the mid to late 18th Century, Alaskan First Nations peoples preferred blue and white beads most, but used other bead colours as well. 31
According to ethnologist Kate Duncan (1989:44) the Fort Yukon journals indicate that there was a definite change in bead colour preference by the late 1860s to more of a demand for amber, crystal, blue, white, black, red, and ruby. As well, in other parts of the northwest, more variation in bead colours occurs temporally 32
According to Alexander Henry for the Assiniboine during the late 18th to early 19th Century, the most sought-after trade goods included, “…brass rings, brass wire, blue beads, and other trinkets.”33
Others, however, suggest that not only were blue beads the most highly valued but that certain colours had meaning or rules about where they could be worn. “The women ornament their dresses….with broad diversified stripes of sky to blue and white beads. The Indians do not like beads of other colours, for instance, red next to the skin.”34
When the Kutchin people met Alexander MacKenzie they demanded blue beads over all others. 35
Unfortunately, virtually nothing is said about the degree of variability of colour preference within specific First Nations groups or other potential temporal changes of colour preference between First Nations groups. According to Duncan (1989:78), there was individual variability in colour preference and regional preferences even among Athabascan-speaking people. Pink, aqua and green beads dominated Eastern Athabascan beadwork, while white, navy, green, red, pink, greasy yellow, and green dominated western Athabascans. 32
If we can generalize, these are the predominant glass trade bead colours used historically by First Nations, Inuit, and Metis people:
Sioux: white background, bold blues, yellow, shades of green and pink;
Cheyenne: white background, more turquoise and transparent beads, red;
Ojibwa: multi-coloured backgrounds, dark red, clear, and black;
Cherokee: more black in beading than other First Nations groups;
Eastern Woodland: floral patterns and lots of multi-coloured designs;
North West Coast: heavy emphasis on dark blue, and white;
Blackfoot: white background, heavy emphasis on blue beads; other colours used sparingly;
Dene: multi-coloured backgrounds and many colours used in designs; greater emphasis on blue further west;
Inuit: white and many black beads;
Metis: “the more colours, the better.” (Bertha Desjarlais) 36
Unfortunately, there are only a few references, such as Duncan’s, in the literature about any continuity of colour use from the prehistoric to the initial contact period, and beyond, in western North America. According to Alexander Mackenzie, at the time of contact, quill work and moose hair were the primary decorative embroidery in the Northwest Territories using natural dyes of red, black, yellow, white, and blue. 37
SITE/REGION
Volume (lbs)
White (%)
Blue (%)
Other (%)
HBC Inland, western Canada, 1799
330.5
25.3
48.4
26.3
NWC Inland, western Canada, 1792
113.0
33.0
67.0
–
HBC Nottingham House Inventory, 1803
7.75
38.7
61.3
–
Nottingham House – Presents or Traded, 1803
3.0
33.0
66.0
–
Fort Union, 1840 Inventory
1,728
46.8
53.2
–
Glass trade bead inventories from three different sources, ranging from 1792 – 1840. These figures show not only how extensive the trade of glass beads was but that blue and white were by far the most preferred colours among Indigenous people living on the Northern Great Plains to people much further north in the Athabasca region of Northern Alberta, Canada.
But, by the late 18th century, and then by the end of the 19th century the glass bead colour palette was extensive. Glass bead styles and colours were in high demand in the Indigenous world. And if not met, trade suffered:
“….the frustrations involved in trying to ensure an up-to-date inventory of beads of acceptable size and color for a market that changed faster than the time required to order and receive goods from England.” (Trader Alexander Murray, Fort Yukon)38
Colour as a Means of Communication
“People give objects meaning, but cultural meaning is rarely stable. Objects and clothing actions that had significance in certain historic contexts are sometimes forgotten, while others endure for generations.”39
Different colours can have meaning – which is often very elusive to determine historically, as the above quote suggests. But, at a more base level, colour can also be used as a means of communication, and thereby carry information and meaning. For example, different colours or colour combinations can be used to communicate one’s ethnic affiliation and social position to others. Historically we may be able to reconstruct ethnic affiliation (i.e., certain groups using a specific array of colours or proportionally more of one colour than others) and social position (i.e, the use of a certain colour by certain individuals in a group) by simply aligning various colours with different ethnic groups or sub-groups.
Colour and bead patterns can therefore be examined using different units of analysis of comparison. In historical archaeology, unlike most prehistoric archaeology, we often have an accompanying historic record to help identify and define those units of analysis, enabling us to then investigate whether people, regionally, in communities or individually used colour as a means of social expression. There are hints that indeed this might be true. But, as we have seen it is difficult, if not impossible, to examine this question with fur trade post inventories, because the records are often incomplete or vague to use for comparative purposes.
According to those historic records, colour, including that of glass trade beads, defined groups and social positions (i.e., rank, gender).
Regional Level: According to Sherry Farrell Racette, when discussing Metis beadwork and colours: “The vitality of the colour palette of nineteenth century beadwork and embroidery corresponds with the comparative prosperity and vigor of that collective identity. Smaller Half Breed collectives, not associated with the Métis, also used clothing and common aesthetics to communicate distinctiveness.”40
2. Community Level: Distinctions between communities are often also expressed in bead colour differences: “Small decorative elements could also distinguish the work of one community from another. Moccasins made in Ile à la Crosse, particularly those made by the grandmothers of the community, have a distinct visual marker that identifies their community of origin. Three to four rows of alternating deep blue and white beads outline the beaded vamps. The same blue and white border is used on cuffs and other pieces of beadwork. Within the larger aesthetic tradition, regions, communities and individuals developed recognizable styles.”41
3. Family level: “Some elders recalled specific colours and designs associated with particular families. I remember] that story my grandfather told me about the sashes and it was in the context of him lamenting that you couldn’t leave your stuff out any more that people just stole it. He said that long ago you didn’t do that because people knew what was yours. If you had it wrapped with your sash everybody knew it was yours because of the colours the family used. They knew that it belonged to the Bouviers, or it belonged to the Gardiner’s or to the Daigneault’s. It was essentially a way of marking.” 42
4. Individual Level: Among Metis men, different coloured hats distinguished them from white gentlemen and officers. “Cowie described “low, broad brimmed black hats” worn by the Métis, while “grey felt” was worn by “gentlemen and officers.” Age was also a factor in headgear chosen by “younger Metis [who] favored rather than the hat, pill box caps of fine black cloth or velvet, adorned with beads or colored silk work and a large black silk tassel attached to the crown.”43
What the Archaeological Record Reveals About Bead Colour Preference
“It is doubtful if comprehensive examination of all records for a number of posts over a period of time would yield a clear understanding of beads traded there, particularly since the bead company records to help in the clarification of terms, sizes, and colors are not available.”44
Ethnographers have essentially dismissed the reliability of historic fur trade fort records to provide accurate information about Indigenous glass trade bead preferences, including colour.
What about the archaeological records in western Canada? Are they a reliable source of information about Indigenous bead colour preferences? Where we often find thousands of glass trade beads at these forts. It seems, here too there are problems. Let’s investigate a few of them.
Researcher Bias in Glass Bead Colours – A Small, but Necessary Diversion
What is it about these archaeological assemblages that might make us hesitate to use them to investigate Indigenous bead colour preference? Two types of bias come to mind: 1) whether fort bead assemblages truly represent what Indigenous people used in a region; and, 2) whether there is any bias in the way the beads were collected.
In the first instance, most glass bead assemblages come from excavated fur trade sites and very few historic indigenous encampments or settlements in western Canada. Is it safe to interpret outside (the fort) Indigenous bead colour preference directly from these fort assemblages which represent both what beads were traded to people bringing in their furs and what Indigenous people living at the forts were consuming?
However, the fort inventories, representing what bead colours were traded or gifted to Indigenous people do seem to be similar (on an ordinal scale of comparison) to the fort bead archaeological assemblages. 45
Occasionally there are instances where direct proof can be obtained, such as comparing a historic fort bead sample directly to an Indigenous camp sample to see how similar they were.
Archaeologist, Aaron Crowell was able to make such a comparison. 31 He compared the Indigenous encampment bead samples to the fort bead assemblages. I summarized Crowell’s results below. In terms of proportions, and ordinal rank the two later period (post-1830) bead colours were very similar.
The second problem with the archaeological bead assemblage involves recovery bias. Seed beads, less than 2mm in diameter, are the most common type of bead. They are hard to see when excavating and historically some of the darker-coloured beads may have been more easily lost if accidentally dropped. While it’s virtually impossible to verify the latter inference, we can examine whether our methods might be biased toward the recovery of more visible coloured beads (white, and yellow, for example).
Some archaeological studies suggest there is no bias in bead colour recovery during excavations. 46
While excavating at the NWC/HBC Fort Vermilion I (c.1798-1830) site we conducted a similar experiment to see if we could replicate the Bundy et. al results. As the figures below show, our results differed considerably from theirs. Not only did we recover proportionally more seed beads (twenty-three percent more) in the fine screens, but also proportionally more of the darker bead colours. 48
So, as you can see, most types of historic evidence used to examine Indigenous bead colour preference have their setbacks. Including the archaeological record. Those deficiencies must be kept in mind when considering my following interpretations about Indigenous bead colour preference.
Temporal and Regional Trends in Archaeological Bead Assemblages
Despite difficulties with the archaeological evidence can we still discern some trends in the glass trade bead data that inform on Indigenous glass bead colour preference in western Canada? And, the meaning of, or factors responsible for, those trends?
In a 2015 monograph describing the Fort Vermilion I archaeological results I undertook an extensive investigation of the archaeological bead assemblage and Indigenous colour preference. 49 Consult this source for a more in-depth look at my results. And, where I feel more detail is necessary here, I will include it in the footnotes.
My glass bead samples come primarily from fur trade posts in Alberta, Canada, but occasionally I incorporate evidence from further afield.
Below is a list of glass bead assemblages from fur trade forts and other historic sites used in this study. Although there are more archaeological assemblages, not all of them were used because some cover long periods and therefore are inadequate to examine possible glass bead colour changes over more discrete periods of time.
For the first comparisons I have simplified the bead colour palette because of the many different ways glass bead colours have been described in the literature. Also, historically blue and white were the most common or popular colours. And the most profound changes, either temporally or ethnically (e.g., Dene vs Blackfoot) occurred in the proportions of the use of these two colours but also the use of a more different or diverse range of colours either temporally or regionally. This then leaves us with three basic bead colour categories: 1) white; 2) blue; and, 3) other (all other coloured beads). Even though there are many hues of blues or whites, I have simply lumped them all together for these comparisons.
I also divided the available glass trade bead assemblages into broad categories representing time and space. These divisions were chosen for practical and historical reasons. Unfortunately, not all fur trade sites were occupied in neat discreet units of time. This unevenness makes it difficult to examine bead colour preferences over time. 50
Secondly, according to Kate Duncan 32 and Karlis Karklins 51 somewhere around 1830, the Indigenous floral design in embroidery and beadwork continued to spread to northwestern North America from its place of origin in eastern Canada. How did this change from the use of primarily geometric patterns to floral designs by Indigenous populations affect the proportions of the above bead categories? Surely flower designs weren’t just blue and white.
Therefore, based on these historic circumstances, I divided the bead assemblages into those that represented the pre-1830 period and those that represented the post-1830 period to answer this question.
Nor were the various Indigenous groups relegated to discreet geographical areas. Boundaries were fluid and overlap occurred. To complicate things even more, as the population of people of mixed ancestry (white-first Nations unions) grew, most women (partners of fort employees) living at the fur trade forts were of Metis origin. However, as the above diagram shows First Nations groups who used a mostly geometric design occupied the southern parts of the Saskatchewan District and those that used a floral design lived mostly in the Athabaska District. Metis people, highly renowned for their floral embroidery and beadwork, resided in both districts.
Other First Nations, Metis and fur trade fort bead assemblages.
Glass Bead Colour Proportions
“When glass beads became available to the Athapaskans in sufficient quantity for embroidery, they were readily applied to garments and accessories in the decorative traditions already established using porcupine quills and seeds. Beads were definitely present among some Athapaskans in both the east and the west sometime during the eighteenth century, but the details of their arrival remain lost to history.” 87
Not only was the first adoption of glass beads by Athabascan speakers murky but so also were bead colour preferences by various other historic Indigenous groups in western Canada. Did those colour preferences change over time?
I will first examine this question with two northern fur trade bead assemblages spanning the pre- and post-1830 periods – Fort Vermilion I (c.1798-1830) and Fort Vermilion II (c.1830-1934). Both forts are located in northern Alberta along the Peace River approximately eighty kilometres apart from one another. Both forts served a primarily northern Athapaskan population, but to a lesser extent also Cree and Metis. The results of the comparison of their respective bead colour proportions are shown below. There was a considerable increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category in the post-1830 Fort Vermilion II assemblage.
In the next comparison, I combined all the fur trade fort bead assemblages and then divided them into two time periods. The results, shown below, indicated that there is an increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category in the post-1830 bead assemblages.
Since we are also interested in comparing possible regional differences in bead colour preferences, I divided the bead assemblages into both time (pre-1830) and space (Northern and Central/Southern). The results, shown below, indicate that not only do bead colour preferences change over time, but also regionally. But, at different rates. Over time, there is a far greater increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category in the northern bead assemblages (31%) than in central/southern bead assemblages (19%).
Are these changes in bead colour preferences just a regional phenomenon or are they more widespread than just in Western Canada? Although currently my database is limited to examine this question more thoroughly, the results (shown below), suggest it is more widespread. 88 But, again there is a far higher rate of change in the ‘other ‘ bead category in these northern assemblages than in those further south. When all the northern assemblages (Athabasca, Mackenzie, Alaska) combined are compared to southern assemblages there is a 26% increase in the former and only 16% in the latter (shown in the table below).
While the changes in these bead colour proportions are real enough, finding explanations for them is somewhat more difficult. Especially when we consider that various different ethnic groups inhabited each region. The crux of the issue comes down to this: even though different Indigenous groups occupied each region, their greater spatial proximity to one another (than to people in other regions) resulted in more similar use of bead colours. Is spatial proximity that powerful a factor, despite considerable Indigenous ethnic diversity in a region, to create continuity in bead colour choice?
Unfortunately, currently, I don’t have the kind of data to explore this possibility in more detail. Numerous historic references seem to support this view. Our automobile colour study also seems to suggest as much despite the considerable ethnic diversity in some of those countries (more so in Canada and South Africa than Iceland and Turkey).
Number of Glass Bead Colour Varieties
While there seem to be differences in bead colour proportions temporally and regionally, exactly what was changing? The above bead colour categories mask some of the changes that might be occurring in the ‘other’ bead colour category. Were more bead colour varieties being added temporally or regionally to account for these higher proportions? Or were only certain colours in the ‘other’ category being used more frequently thereby increasing the relative proportions in the ‘other’ bead colour category?
Source/Fort
Median Occupation Date
Bead Colour Varieties
Total Beads
Davis
1720
10
N/A
Davis
1754
19
N/A
Davis
1774
6
N/A
Fort D’Tremblante
1794
20
20119
Fort George
1796
11
20894
Buckingham House
1796
N/A
Augustus/Edmonton I
1798.5
4
12
Rocky Mountain Fort
1799
9
17176
Davis
1800.5
14
Nottingham House
1802
20
2887
Rocky Mountain House (HBC)
1810
7
10832
Rocky Mountain House (NWC)
1810
26
6512
Edmonton/Augustus III
1811.5
14
1308
Vermilion I
1814
13
1460
Wedderburn
1828
9
81
Davis
1828.5
42
N/A
Davis
1843.5
27
N/A
Fort Union
1848
19
38490
Vancouver
1847.5
29
55000
Fort Edmonton V
1867.5
12
80
Last Mountain House
1871
21
60063
Vermilion II
1880
11
419
Fort Victoria
1881
16
803
Dunvegan
1898
8
27
Mean: Median Dates
1720 – 1828
13
Mean: Median Dates
1828.5 – 1898
19.4
Data come from the same sources cited in an earlier Table. The median occupation date refers to the central date of occupation for a fort. For example, if a fort was occupied from 1800 – 1810, the median occupation date would be 1805.
While seemingly straightforward forward this is a very difficult question to answer with bead archaeological assemblages. Namely, because bead colour variety is not just a function of what people used historically. It is also dependent on archaeological sample size, and even archaeological site occupation length. 89
I took what available data there was regarding bead colour variety and made some preliminary comparisons. In these comparisons, bead colour variety refers to all bead colours, including shades of white and blue. Although the historic documentary literature points toward a greater variety of bead colours in the market over time, this does not necessarily mean that people used more of them. The raw data for these comparisons are shown in the table below.
The scattergram below, comparing the median archaeological site occupation dates (X-Axis) to the number of bead colour varieties (Y-Axis) seems to confirm this observation. There was no steady increase in the number of glass bead colours over time.
When the mean variety of bead colours is compared between sites with occupation dates before and after c.1828 there is an increase (from 13 to 19.4 colour varieties in the total sample and from 15 to 19.3 colour varieties in the samples with high bead numbers). However, despite this increase, statistically the means are the same. 91
The above results suggest there was considerable variability in several glass bead colour varieties through both time and space. Keeping space constant (comparing assemblages of different periods within a region), I wanted to see first if differences existed. I examined bead colour variety between Fort Vermilion I and II – two forts in the same region but from different periods. The results shown in the figure below along with comparisons between regions and time, do not show the expected trend of the use of more colour varieties through time. Nor do they show what the comparisons of bead colour proportions showed – namely a greater use of ‘other’ colours in the northern bead assemblages.
It seems, therefore, that the greater proportional use of ‘other’ bead colours either temporally or regionally (i.e., higher in the northern bead assemblages than the Saskatchewan District assemblages), is not a function of the use of a greater variety of bead colours.
If it’s not the result of a selection of greater bead colour variety, then why do the proportions of the ‘other’ bead colour category increase over time and regionally? Let’s take a specific example where bead colour proportions change through time but bead colour remains relatively similar – Fort Vermilion I and II. Below is a breakdown of the glass bead colours recovered from the two forts.
Fort Vermilion I (2014-16 sample)
Fort Vermilion II
Colour
Quantity
Percent
Quantity
Percent
Black
17
9
0
0
Clear
4
2
1
1
Dark Indigo
22
11
0
0
Turquoise
1
0.5
2
1
Grey
1
0.5
1
1
Pink on Green
18
9
0
0
Pink
4
2
81
49
Pink, medium
2
1
0
0
Dark Purple
3
2
2
1
Red
41
21
42
25
Yellow
79
41
8
5
Green
0
0
26
16
Total
192
99
163
Total Bead Sample
1460
Total Colours
11
8
Comparison of glass bead colours (other than white or blue) from Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830) and Fort Vermilion II (c.1830 – 1930). The total bead sample size for Fort Vermilion II is 419. 92
The first thing to note is that some colours are either absent or change in importance (percent) over time – there is a dramatic increase in pink and green over time and a decline in Dark Indigo, black and yellow while red remains relatively constant. Preference for certain different bead colours is changing while it seems the use of greater varieties of bead colours is not. 93
And if you look more closely at the data, even though there are fewer bead colours in the Fort Vermilion II bead assemblage, the first three highest bead colour percentages make up 90% of all colours while they only make up 73% in the Fort Vermilion bead assemblage. In short, fewer bead colours occur in larger quantities in the Fort Vermilion II assemblage. And their high numbers relative to total bead assemblage (counting all the whites and blues) account for the proportional increase in the ‘other’ bead colour category. These differences are graphically depicted below in the cumulative percentage graph.
A comparison of two bead assemblages from different regions in Alberta produced similar results to those above. Below is a list of bead colours from the Athabasca region HBC Nottingham House (c.1801 – 1803) and the Saskatchewan District NWC Rocky Mountain House (c.1799 – 1821). Even though Rocky Mountain House had 26 different colour varieties, most of these were different shades of blue with only twelve actual different colours. It is also obvious that the ordinal rank of colours between the two assemblages differs. And the Rocky Mountain House coloured bead assemblage only represents 4.7% of the total while the Nottingham House assemblages make up 25% of the total. And like the temporal comparison between the two Fort Vermilion sites, it was not a greater increase in bead colour varieties at Nottingham House that created these differences. It was simply a higher proportional use of certain coloured beads that created that difference.
Nottingham House
Rocky Mountain House
Bead Colour
Quantity
Percent
Quantity
Percent
Black
11
0.6
25
7.7
Redwood
391
20.9
25
7.7
Ruby
40
2.1
0
0
Rose Wine
273
14.6
232
71.4
Scarlet
0
0
17
5.2
Red Mahogany
0
0
4
1.2
Bright Green
3
0.2
6
1.8
Dark Pale Green
185
9.9
1
0.3
Apple Green
75
4
0
0
Aqua Green
1
0.05
0
0
Dark Grass Green
0
0
1
0.3
Turquoise
773
41.3
1
0.3
Light Gold
120
6.4
0
0
Mustard Gold
0
0
12
3.7
Sunlight Yellow
0
0
1
0.3
Total
1872
325
Total Bead Sample
3610
6512
In this comparison, unlike the Fort Vermilion I and II comparisons, both bead samples are sufficiently robust to eliminate possible bias from sample size.
In summary, historic glass bead colours differed proportionally over time and in large regions of western Canada and the United States. Certain bead colours were preferred over others in specific regions or during specific periods. Although there was likely a greater potential selection of bead colour varieties later in the 19th century, it did not necessarily result in the use of a greater variety over time or regionally. People preferred certain colour schemes during certain periods and regions. The reasons and meaning for the choice of those colours were likely as complex as they are today, being influenced by the personal, cultural and ideological customs and values of their people. And, let’s not forget the role of fashion driving the choices in colours that were made.
Canada’s Metis – The Flower Beadwork People
It is perhaps fitting to end this blog about historic glass bead colour with Canada’s historic Metis who were also known as the ‘Flower Beadwork People‘, renowned for their brightly coloured floral designs in both beadwork and embroidery. 94 How does their use of bead colours compare to other assemblages?
Unfortunately, there are very few archaeological bead assemblages that are definitely Metis. Below I have listed the archaeological sites that represent Metis settlements or farmsteads (river lots) and have beads samples available for examination. Keep in mind that this sample size is small and the results preliminary. However, the results indicate that the ‘other’ bead colour category in these assembles is very high. Higher even than most other Saskatchewan District bead assemblages. However, also like these assemblages the Metis were not necessarily using a greater variety of bead colours at any given time. Only a higher proportion of some colours.
The image below of a beaded cushion, dating around c.1880, and like the octopus firebag, supports my contention that relatively few varieties of bead colours were used, but some in very high proportions. White and blue beads were used in lesser numbers in this flower bead pattern.
Also at the beginning of this blog, I showed an image of a colourful piece of beadwork found at the HBC Fort Victoria (c. 1864 – 98). It was found in the men’s quarters and was likely fashioned by a Metis woman perhaps living at the fort. As with the cushion, the proportion of coloured beads relative to white and blue beads is quite high. Below is a schematic drawing of the colour pattern that was used based on this archaeological find.
Below is a photograph of a Metis sash I was given at Lac La Biche, Alberta, Canada for my work with the Metis. It’s quite evident that there is considerable similarity in the colour scheme of both these objects. Not the same but similarity nevertheless. The sash, a major symbol of Metis identity in Canada varies in colour schemes but certain colours seem to reoccur.
A Few Concluding Remarks
The use of colour by humans and the reasons for choosing them are complex and often difficult to understand. When we step back into history the task of understanding colour becomes even more difficult because of either scant or biased evidence.
Despite these issues, I believe the historic archaeological bead data have been under-utilized when it comes to documenting and understanding historic Indigenous bead colour. Investigation of these assemblages has its advantages. Instead of guessing what the historic names for colours might mean, we can examine the actual bead. And, because the assemblages cover a considerable period of time and space, we can take a comparative approach to investigate them.
It is clear, both in contemporary and historic Indigenous societies, colour preference is a moving target. It is not a static entity but seems governed by ever-changing preferences over time and space.
To tag a certain colour with a certain meaning is therefore difficult if not impossible. Perhaps we have to reduce the entire mess down to the fact that some colours, because we associate them with specific things or events, make us feel good while others do not. And it seems there is a great deal of variability among humans in those choices. In other words, a colour I might prefer would not always be preferred by others, or in different periods, giving rise to an array of colours, used in different proportions by people.
Despite this seemingly incredible variability and sometimes randomness in colour preferences, there are trends in colour preferences both regionally and over time in Northwestern North America that are very difficult to explain if the choice is only individual and highly random. Like our car example, are Indigenous people thinking the same way about bead colour choices? Certainly, the floral pattern in embroidery and beadwork, thought to have spread northwest from eastern North America, influenced a greater use of colours other than white and blue by Indigenous people. Some evidence suggests that style dictated colour preference among Indigenous groups. And, if you wanted to communicate your affiliation with a particular group, then the use of certain colours as means of communicating that identity was an option.
To conclude glass trade beads were a very important article among Indigenous people in Canada. The colours of beads people chose have significance in their everyday lives. Not just historically but even today.
On August 10th, 2023 I attended an Edmonton Elks football game. The highlight of this event wasn’t the Elks’ superb play (they lost and now have lost twenty-two consecutive games at home). The highlight was the half-time show featuring Canadian Indigenous dancers, clad in their colourful dancing regalia covered with many glass beads.
The bead colours they chose, and the meaning behind them, are often very personal, steeped in their history and cultures. I leave the last word about the importance of Indigenous beads and colour to an Indigenous voice, Anishinaabe 98 beader Malinda Joy Gray’s thoughts about the colours of beads chosen in dance regalia and the meaning behind them:
“Colors and patterns are not merely adornment, they should be intertwined with their identity and their status as a dancer with other members of the community. When an Anishinaabe artist beads regalia for themselves, they are instructed to use their spirit colors. I have been taught by Elders that if you don’t have any colors that have special meaning to you or are unsure what your spirit colors are, you must put tobacco in some water and sleep with it beside your bed. Doing so will ensure that during your dreams your ancestors will come and show you which colors should be worn. Regalia is not just for this dimension, it transcends time and waking reality. Beadwork has impacted every aspect of Indigenous culture including its spirituality.” 99
Footnotes:
From “The Pyschology of Colour in Advertising.” https://www.newdesigngroup.ca/logo-graphic-design/psychology-colour-advertising/[↩][↩]
From Joy Gray, Malinda. 2017. Beads: Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, The University of Toronto, Canada.[↩]
Madden, T. J., Hewett, K., & Roth, M. S. (2000). Managing images in different cultures: A cross-national study of colour meanings and preferences. Journal of International Marketing, 8(4), 90-107.[↩]
This is only a theory of high correlation (i.e., most people), not an absolute theory (i.e., all people).[↩]
from “Science Explains Why We Have Favorite Colors” by Allison Turner, 2022.[↩]
Farrell Racette, Sherry. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Manitoba.[↩]
Quote from Farrell Racette, Sherry. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Manitoba.[↩]
Data from Karklins, Karlis. 1983. Nottingham House: The Hudson’s Bay Company in Athabasca, 1802-1806. History and Archaeology 69. Ottawa, Parks Canada, Ottawa.[↩]
On the colour wheel, secondary colours are located between primary colours. According to the traditional colour wheel, red and yellow make orange, red and blue make purple, and blue and yellow make green. Tertiary colours refer to the combination of primary and secondary colours due to their compound nature. Blue-green, blue-violet, red-orange, red-violet, yellow-orange, and yellow-green are colour combinations you can make from colour mixing. While we are all familiar with what primary and secondary colours resemble, we are perhaps less familiar with tertiary colours. The six tertiary colours often come with names. For example, vermilion refers to orange combined with red; magenta, red combined with purple); violet, purple combined with blue; teal, blue combined with green; chartreuse, green combined with yellow; and, amber, yellow combined with orange. I cannot think of one primary or secondary colour, and many tertiary combinations as well, that has not been applied to glass trade bead colours in the Americas.[↩]
Kidd, Kenneth and Martha Ann Kidd. 2012. A Classification System for Glass Beads for the Use of Field Archaeologists. In BEADS: Journal of the Society of Bead Researchers. Volume 24[↩]
Devore, Steven Leroy. 1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Collection. Williston, North Dakota.[↩]
American Fur Company data from Farrell Racette, Sherry. 2004. Sewing Ourselves Together: Clothing, Decorative Arts and the Expression of Metis and Half Breed Identity. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Manitoba.[↩]
Steven Leroy Devore. 1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Collection. Williston, North Dakota.[↩]
Wayne Davis. 1974. Time and Space Considerations for Diagnostic Northern Plains Glass Trade Bead Types. In Historical Archaeology in Northwestern North America. University of Calgary, Canada.[↩]
Melonie Ancheta. 2016. Colouring the Native Northwest Coast. Magazine of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian: Volume 17, No. 1[↩]
a mineral consisting of a phosphate of iron which occurs as a secondary mineral in ore deposits. It is colourless when fresh but becomes blue or green with oxidization[↩]
from Melonie Ancheta. 2016. Coloring the Native Northwest Coast. Magazine of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian: Volume 17, No.1.[↩]
both white and black technically are considered colours and so treated here as such[↩]
And to my knowledge has not been answered. Certainly, like many European trade goods introduced into Indigenous society, they might have affected traditional values. If blue dyes were difficult to acquire, and therefore relegated to only a few people, such as shamans and nobility, the greater accessibility to objects by others to this colour may have had a profound effect on Northwest Coast cultural traditions.[↩]
Abel, A. H. 1939. Tabeau’s Narrative of Loisel’s Expedition to the Upper Missouri, pp.170-71. University of Oklahoma Press, Norman.[↩]
Abel, A. H. 1939. Tabeau’s Narrative of Loisel’s Expedition to the Upper Missouri, pp.174-76. University of Oklahoma Press, Norman.[↩]
Davis, Wayne. 1972. Glass Trade Beads of the Northern Plains – Upper Missouri Region. M.A. Thesis, Department of Archaeology, Calgary, Alberta.[↩]
Denig, Edwin. 1930. Indian Tribes of the Upper Missouri. Edited by J. N. B. Hewitt, Bureau of American Ethnology Annual Report (1928-1929), Vol. 46: 375-628. Washington, D. C.[↩]
Ross, Lester A. 1976. “Fort Vancouver: 1829-1860, An Historical Archaeological Investigations of the Goods Imported and manufactured by the Hudson’s Bay Company” United States Department of the Interior National Park Service and the Fort Vancouver Historic Site, USA.[↩]
Crowell, Aron L. 1997. Archaeology and the Capitalist World System: A Study of Russian America. Plenum Press, New York.[↩][↩]
Duncan, Kate C. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Art. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver.[↩][↩][↩]
Coues, Elliot (ed). 1965. New Light on the Early History of the Greater Northwest: The Manuscript Journals of Alexander Henry, Fur Trader of the Northwest Company, and of David Thompson, Official Geographer and Explorer of the Same Company. Ross and Haines, Minneapolis. pp.517.[↩]
Thwaites, Reuben, Gold (ed.). 1904-05. Original Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition 1804-05. Dodd, Mead and Company, New York.[↩]
McKenzie, Roderick. 1889. Reminiscences. InLes Bourgeois de la Compagnie du Nord-Quest, recits de voyages, lettres et rapports inedits relatifs au Nord-Quest Canadien, L. R. Masson (ed) (Quebec: A. Cote, 1889-90, pp.51.[↩]
McKenzie, Roderick. 1889. Reminiscences. InLes Bourgeois de la Compagnie du Nord-Quest, recits de voyages, lettres et rapports inedits relatifs au Nord-Quest Canadien, L. R. Masson (ed) (Quebec: A. Cote, 1889-90.[↩]
From Duncan, Kate C. 1989. Northern Athapaskan Art. A Beadwork Tradition. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver. pp.44.[↩]
Bundy, Barbara E., Allen P. McCartney, and Douglas W. Veltre. 2003. Glass Trade Beads from Reese Bay, Unalaska Island: Spatial and Temporal Patterns. Arctic Anthropology 40 (1):29-47[↩]
from Bundy, Barbara E., Allen P. McCartney, and Douglas W. Veltre. 2003. Glass Trade Beads from Reese Bay, Unalaska Island: Spatial and Temporal Patterns. Arctic Anthropology 40 (1):29-47[↩]
However, at Rocky Mountain Fort, Scott Hamilton fine-screened all soil matrix to recover all small beads. His results suggest that the bead colour proportions from this fur trade post are within the range of variability of other post assemblages (where the soil was not fine-screened) and white beads do not occur in significantly greater numbers. ((Hamilton, Scott, David Burley, Luke Dalla Bona, Rick Howard, Heather Moon, and Bill Quakenbush. 1987. The End of Season Report of the 1986 Excavations at Rocky Mountain Fort, HbRf-31. Preliminary report submitted to the B.C. Heritage Trust.[↩]
Pyszczyk, H. 2015. The Last Fort Standing. Fort Vermilion and the Peace River Fur Trade, 1798-1830. Occasional Papers of the Archaeological Society of Alberta 14. Archaeological Society of Alberta, Calgary, Alberta. Chapter 6[↩]
For example, the NWC/HBC Fort Chipewyan was occupied from 1802 to 1872 covering the two time periods in question. More discreet temporal divisions have not been established archaeologically at this fort. Therefore the bead assemblage from this fort is a mixture of bead preference for over seventy years – a length of time too long to investigate any meaningful trends.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 1992. Trade Ornament Usage Among the Native Peoples of Canada: a Source Book. Ottawa, Ont.: National Historic Parks and Sites, Parks Service.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 1983. Nottingham House: The Hudson’s Bay Company in Athabasca, 1802-1806. History and Archaeology 69. Ottawa, Parks Canada, Ottawa.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 1981. The Old Fort Point Site: Fort Wedderburn II? Occasional Papers in Archaeology and History 26. Ottawa, Parks Canada.[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 1993 A “Parchment Skin” is All: The Archaeology of the Boyer River Site, Fort Vermilion, Alberta. In The Uncovered Past: Roots of Northern Alberta Societies, Patricia A. McCormack and R. Geoffrey Ironside (eds), pp. 33-44. Circumpolar Research Series Number 3. Canadian Circumpolar Institute, University of Alberta.[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 2000-131 Archaeological Investigations: Fort Vermillion I (IaQf-1) and Unknown Fur Trade Site (IaQf-2) (1998-2000 Field Seasons), Final Report, Permit 2000-131. Manuscript on file, Alberta Tourism, Parks, Recreation and Culture, Edmonton, Alberta; Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 2002-227 Archaeological Investigations: Fort Vermilion I (IaQf – 1) and Unknown Fur Trade Site (IaQf-2). Final Report, Permit 2002-227. On File, Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton. Pyszczyk, H. 2015. The Last Fort Standing. Fort Vermilion and the Peace River Fur Trade, 1798-1830. Occasional Papers of the Archaeological Society of Alberta 14. Archaeological Society of Alberta, Calgary, Alberta.[↩]
Arnold, Ken. 1972. The History and Archaeology of Fort Fork (Draft). Manuscript on file, Provincial Museum of Alberta, Edmonton, Alberta[↩]
Hamilton, Scott, David Burley, Luke Dalla Bona, Rick Howard, Heather Moon, and Bill Quakenbush. 1987. The End of Season Report of the 1986 Excavations at Rocky Mountain Fort, HbRf-31. Preliminary report submitted to the B.C. Heritage Trust.[↩]
Smith, Brian J. 1992. Archaeological Mitigation of Site GePa-10, Lac la Biche, Alberta for M & J Cats Ltd. ASA Permit Number 92-006. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Culture and Community Spirit. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Forbis, R.G. 1958a. Archaeological Site Inventory Data, Borden No. EgPr-1, Peigan Post (Old Bow Fort). Site form on file with Alberta Culture and Community Spirit. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Noble, William C. 1973. The Excavation and Historical Identification of Rocky Mountain House. Canadian Historic Sites. Occasional Papers in Archaeology and History No. 6. Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development, Ottawa.[↩]
Steer, Donald N. and Harvey J. Rogers. 1978. Archaeological Investigations at an Early Nineteenth Century Fur Trading Fort, Rocky Mountain House National Historic Park, 1975-77. M.S. on file, Parks Canada, Calgary.[↩]
Kidd, Robert S. 1987. Archaeological Excavations at the Probable Site of the First Fort Edmonton or Fort Augustus I, 1795 to Early 1800s. Human History, Occasional Paper No. 3. Provincial Museum of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Nicks, Gertrude. 1969. The Archaeology of Two Hudson’s Bay Company Posts: Buckingham House (1792-1800) and Edmonton House III (1810-1813). M.A. thesis on file, Department of Anthropology, The University of Alberta, Edmonton[↩][↩]
Kidd, Robert S. 1970. Fort George and the Early Fur Trade in Alberta. Publication No.2, Provincial Museum and Archives of Alberta. Alberta Culture, Historical Resources.[↩]
McCullough, E.J., A.J. Landals, and B.J. Kulle. 1992. Historical Resources Mitigation FjOn 1 Fort Vermillion/Paint Creek House. Permit 91-73. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Culture and Community Spirit. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Karklins, Karlis. 2021. appendix F. The Trade Beads of Fort Riviere Tremblante. In Meyer, David. 2021. Archaeological Investigations of Fort Riviere Tremblante. Manuscript on File, Saskatchewan Heritage Center, Regina.[↩]
Walde, Dale. 2004. Historical Resource Monitoring of a Replacement Waterline within Lots 1, 4 & 5, Block 1 Fort Vermillion, Alberta Map Sheets 84 J/5 & K/8 Final Report. Permit 2004-209. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Tourism, Parks, Recreation and Culture. Edmonton, Alberta.[↩]
Smith, Brian J. 1991a. Archaeological Investigations, Dunvegan, Alberta: Hudson’s Bay Company 1877 Factor’s House (GlQp-8) and St. Charles Mission Roman Catholic Church (GlQp-6), Permit 89-20. Vols. 1-3. Report on file with the Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Forsman, Michael. 1985. The Archaeology of Victoria Post 1864-1897. Archaeological Survey of Alberta Manuscript Series No. 6. Alberta Culture, Edmonton; Losey, Timothy, et. al, 1977. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Victoria, 1975[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. n.d. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Edmonton V, 1992-1995. Manuscript report on file, Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Pickard, Rod and Heather D’Amour. 1987. Archaeological Investigations at the National Historic Site of Jasper House. Microfiche Report Series 475. Environment Canada Parks Service, Calgary, Alberta.[↩]
Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩][↩][↩]
Stevenson, Marc G. 1981. Peace Point – A Stratified Prehistoric Campsite Complex in Wood Buffalo National Park, Alberta. Research Bulletin No. 158. Parks Canada.[↩]
Crowell, Aron L. 1997. Archaeology and the Capitalist World System: A Study of Russian America. Plenum Press, New York.[↩]
Doll, Maurice,F. V., Robert S. Kidd and John P. Day. 1988. The Buffalo Lake Metis Site: A Late Nineteenth Century Settlement in the Parkland of Central Alberta. Human History Occasional Paper No. 4. Alberta Culture and Multiculturalism, Provincial Museum of Alberta.[↩]
Crowell, Aron L. 1997. Archaeology and the Capitalist World System: A Study of Russian America. Plenum Press, New York.[↩][↩][↩][↩]
Doll, Maurice, F. V., Robert S. Kidd and John P. Day. 1988. The Buffalo Lake Metis Site: A Late Nineteenth Century Settlement in the Parkland of Central Alberta. Human History Occasional Paper No. 4. Alberta Culture and Multiculturalism, Provincial Museum of Alberta.[↩]
Elliot, W. J. 1971. Hivernant Archaeology in the Cypress Hills. M.A. Thesis, University of Calgary.[↩][↩]
Panas, Timothy 1999. Statistical Comparison of Spode/Copeland Ceramics between Historic Metis and European Occupations in Central Alberta. Unpublished M.A. Thesis, The University of Montana.[↩]
Brandon, John Daniel. 1989. The Artifacts and Stratigraphy of the Letendre Complex, Batoche, Saskatchewan. Unpublished M.A. Thesis, University of Saskatchewan.[↩]
Klimko, Olga, Peggy Mkeand, Terrance Gibson. 1993. The Chesterfield House Research Project. Permit 93-047. Saskatchewan Heritage Branch, Regina.[↩]
Heitzmann, R.J., J. Preigert, S.S. Smith. 1980. Historical Resources Inventory and Assessment Programme 1979 Fort Chipewyan III and IV, Final Report. Permit Number 79-100. Consultant’s report on file with Alberta Tourism, Parks, Recreation and Culture.[↩]
Pyszczyk, Heinz W. 1989. The Rosebud Burial. Manuscript on File, Archaeological Survey of Alberta, Edmonton.[↩]
Klimko, Olga and John Hodges. 1993. Last Mountain House: A Hudson’s Bay Company Outpost in the Qu’Appelle Valley. Western Heritage Services Incorporated, Saskatoon.[↩]
Devore, Stephen 1992. Beads of the Bison Robe Trade: The Fort Union Trading Post Collection. Friends of Fort Union Trading Post, Williston, North Dakota.[↩]
Duncan, Kate. 1989, Northern Athapaskan Art. A Beadwork Tradition. p.40. Douglas & McIntyre, Vancouver.[↩]
These limitations are the result of both a low number of archaeological site bead assemblages and often very low sample sizes.[↩]
Much has been published in the archaeological literature on how sample size affects artifact richness (or in this instance bead colour variety) (i.e., as sample size increases, so will the number s of different bead colours, until a saturation point is reached). I have touched on the subject in my 2015 Fort Vermilion I monograph, conducting rarefaction curves to examine artifact richness between different-sized archaeological samples.[↩]
Even when sites having small bead sample sizes are omitted (which could bias the number of bead colour varieties) the results are similar to those above.[↩]
I conducted a two-tailed T-Test for means (unequal variances). Because of the high degree of variability and overlap in the sample, there was no statistical difference in the mean colour varieties in the two samples.[↩]
for some reason WordPress is not allowing me to insert a number in the appropriate box for the total bead sample for Fort Vermilion II.[↩]
However, currently, without a larger bead sample from Fort Vermilion II, I can’t rule out that unequal bead sample sizes are biasing these results.[↩]
According to Canadian Geographic the Dakota and Cree called the Metis Flower Beadwork People. (https://indigenouspeoplesatlasofcanada.ca/article/material-culture/). There are also countless references by explorers describing Metis’ beadwork and embroidery skills[↩]
From the Royal Alberta Facebook page here is a brief history of this firebag design: “Where do octopus bags get their names? An octopus bag has eight hanging tabs or legs, much like the animal. The octopus bag is thought to be based on Algonquin animal skin bags, also known as “many legs bags,” which had the legs and tails left on and were quill-worked or beaded. The Métis adopted this bag style when many Anishinaabe moved west to Red River, where Métis women utilized their distinct floral beadwork style. The eight-legged style of bag became popular in the 19th century in Métis and Cree communities across central Canada. This style of bag – used to carry smoking pipes, tobacco, flint, and steel to make fire (hence “fire bag”) – was carried across the continent as far west as Tlingit communities in Alaska.” Courtesy of Royal Alberta Museum: https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=10154041317827815&set=this-weeks-ramwow-is-a-m%C3%A9tis-octopus-bag-from-1859-it-is-part-of-the-southesk-co[↩]
Losey, Timothy C., et al. 1977. Archaeological Investigations: Fort Victoria, 1975. Occasional Paper No. 3. Alberta Culture, Historic Resources.[↩]
The Ojibwe, Chippewa, Odawa, Potawatomi, Algonquin, Saulteaux, Nipissing and Mississauga First Nations are Anishinaabeg. Some Oji-Cree First Nations and Métis also include themselves within this cultural-linguistic grouping[↩]
From Joy Gray, Malinda. 2017. Beads: Symbols of Indigenous Cultural Resilience and Value. M.A. Thesis, The University of Toronto, Canada.[↩]
(Turkish novelist, screenwriter, academic and recipient of the 2006 Nobel Prize in Literature.)
In a recent news article an Edmonton reporter trashed the 1966 Mercury pickup truck display at the new Royal Alberta Museum, Edmonton, Canada. It was too ordinary and boring and really was not museum worthy. I can’t imagine what she would have said about my choice of the first image for this post.
The dilemma we often face when dealing with material culture, be it thousands of years or a few years old, is choice and selection. Museum staff are faced with the often impossible challenge of meeting the many expectations of many people. As formidable an experience as I have ever faced, either when curating a museum collection, or writing about human history using material culture as the medium.
We are expected to conserve and curate, inform and educate, entertain and stimulate, with the objects we choose to display or write about. Therein lies a problem. Many of those unique, precious, or rare artifacts certainly stimulate and entertain. They catch our attention. But, often they don’t inform a lot about the majority of society, past or present.
The rare bone toothbrush I posted on in an earlier blog has a certain WOW! factor to it. But, it says little about most of the people of the fur trade who didn’t use these articles. The more common duct tape however, informs more about Canadian culture than the toothbrush. I’m almost certain we have no duct tape in our Royal Alberta Museum collections. Perhaps had the Red Green show continued, duct tape would have reached museum status.
The more common folk artifact is often is underrepresented in displays or literature. While informative, it’s boring. Is there a solution?
Not be deterred or ignore the common artifact, I have chosen to write about the most mundane artifact I could think of (there are many to choose from). The common nail and that clunky railroad spike.
Even everyday things often have a complex history and perform an important role in society. And as one of my mentors, historical archaeologist James Deetz, in his book, In Small Things Forgotten once said, all material things, regardless of their size, value, or context have meaning and a story to tell. It’s up to those of us studying them to tease out that meaning and those stories.
Nails, of every shape, size and material, were used for boat building, furniture making, attaching horseshoes to horses’ hooves, and of course the construction of log and wood-framed buildings. They occur in just about every society in the world that had some sort of metal forging technology. And they change in form and method of manufacture in time and space. The common wire nail you are most familiar with has had a shorter history than many of those before it.
In Canada we used hand-forged nails until about the middle of the 19th century (other dates, depending on where you live). To fashion a hand-forged nail a blacksmith heated a piece of square nail rod, then tapered it to a point. Then he put it into a nail heading jig and fashioned various types of heads depending on its function. In cross section, a hand-forged nail is tapered on all four sides from the head down to the tip.
The machine-cut nail was already invented in the 1780’s (perhaps even earlier) but not present in western Canada until the mid nineteenth century. In this process a tapered nail shank is cut from sheet metal of uniform thickness (usually iron), and then a head shaped on it. In cross-section this nail is tapered on two opposite sides but the other two opposite sides are parallel to each other. This more mechanized process produced more nails faster, probably with fewer people required to make them. It was cheaper.
The modern wire nail was developed in about 1880 in America and Europe. Pieces of steel wire were cut at an angle to make a point on one end, and a flat round head was fashioned on the other end. These nails were much cheaper to produce than square nails. The common wire nail began to appear by the turn of the 20th century in western Canada (likely earlier in the east).
Whenever I look at buildings of unknown age, I check out the nails. If they’re wire, the building likely dates after the turn of the 20th century. Even the common wire nail was superseded by the spiral shank nail in the early 1970s. Many different varieties followed.
Many of these different nail types were gradually replaced by the newer types. However, some nails, such as the horseshoe nail and common railway spike maintained their square or rectangular shanks.
Nails were made from various materials, depending on their function and method of manufacture. Probably one of the earliest type of fastener, performing the same function as a nail, was a wooden dowel. Dowels are still used today. And in the western Canadian fur trade, and early settlement period, where the transport of heavy finished nails or nail rod was costly, they often replaced nails in log building construction.
Other materials for nail-making include the more rust-resistant copper alloy nails used to build the first York boats in the western fur trade. However, for centuries the most common nail material was iron.
Both hand-forged and machine-cut nails had different head types either for decoration or better holding power. T-heads, L-heads, Rose-heads, and Gable-heads are just some of the head types found at our historic sites in Canada.
Square-shaped nails were superior to round wire nails for holding power. According to some research, the holding power of the square shank is almost double that of the round shank nail.
So, why change from a square to a round shank? Round-shank nails were easier and more economical to make despite not being as effective. However, once spiral or galvanized nails were introduced, they likely came close or were superior in holding power to the square shank nails.
So after that brief exposition on the common nail, can we now elevate it to national status, placing it beside the equally common maple leaf of national significance? Alas, despite its importance in Canadian history (what has maple leaf ever accomplished?), I just can’t visualize an image like the one below.
Well, I tried. Alas, the poor common nail can’t compete with all the ideological baggage the maple leaf carries. There are few national flags that have an object(s) as a symbol. Angola, Mozambique, Portugal. The hammer and sickle of the former Soviet Union, representing contribution of the common people, is probably the best known.
Railroad Spikes
The 19th century railroad spike, used to build the Canadian Pacific Railway had a square or rectangular shank. As I was trying to drive these damn things into the railroad ties in the summer of 1973, I wondered (between curses) if the square hole on the rail tie plates and the square shank prevented the spike from turning (resulting in failure to hold down the rail), either during attachment or the constant pounding and vibration as the trains passed over them.
Tremendous holding strength was required from a rail road spike to make sure the rails stayed in place with the hundreds of tons of trains moving over them every day. The common spike was made from a softer iron, usually with 9/16 inch thick stock, approximately 5 1/2 to 6 inches long. The point was tapered so the spike would cut across the the grain of the wood tie to prevent it from splitting.
It cost over one-hundred million dollars to build the Canadian Pacific Railroad which was completed in 1885 at Craigellachie, British Columbia. Thirty-thousand workers labored four-and-one-half years to build the 3,200km (1,939 miles) long track across Canada. A ribbon of steel finally bound the country in which the lowly railroad spike played a huge part.
I’ve done a bit of math. Wood ties are about nineteen inches apart. There 3,250 wooden ties per mile. It would require 26,000 spikes for each mile of track laid. That number multiplied by 1,939 miles comes to a staggering 50,414,000 spikes (some claim only a mere 30 million were used) required for the job. Just for the CPR mainline. Clearly the common railway spike is one of the most important artifacts ever made and used in Canadian nation-building.
Yet this very important artifact receives little recognition. There are a few exceptions, mind you. The last spike driven at Craigellachie by Donald Smith in 1885, should be famous. It represents the completion of a national dream. Made of gold or silver perhaps. But no, it was just plain iron. And there wasn’t just one, but four.
The first one, made of silver, never reached Craigellachie in time to be used. The second one was bent by Donal Smith, when trying to hammer it home, and kept, eventually made into jewelry. The third one was pulled and mysteriously disappeared and has only recently surfaced. And the fourth one is still in the tracks at Craigellachie.
What a mess. The first one doesn’t get there in time. Smith bends the second spike and makes it into jewelry. And the third one mysteriously disappears and is now a knife. How could you lose the last spike that symbolized one of the greatest engineering achievements of the time and the coming together of a nation?
We celebrate and revere the sensational, often at the expense of the common and mundane. Granted, the last spike, or the silver one on display, symbolize and solidify a great moment in Canadian history. But it’s not the only spike of significance in this story.
The above photo and the common spike in contrast to the silver one bring up an important point. There is always an alternate story or narrative about any given object. Like the photograph above we should also revere the common railway spike as it symbolizes the sweat, work and deaths of thousands of men who built the ribbon of steel. It represents men like my father and uncle, who maintained it after it was built. Their contribution are as important and meaningful as the completion of the railway and that silver spike.
Perhaps the best way to tell these stories is to display both the silver spike symbolizing one of Canada’s greatest accomplishments alongside the common railroad spike symbolizing the work of those who built it. As close to a solution to entertaining and informing as can be expected from this particular artifact.
Working on the Railroad
I’ll end on a personal note which also partially reveals my choice of content for this post. My father and uncle worked on the CPR for many years. As did my cousin and I. We lasted one summer on the ‘extra gangs.’ I have seen way too many railroad spikes up close on certain sections of the CPR mainline. One summer was more than enough, thank you.
Our family owns a last spike of sorts. In recognition of my father’s contribution to the CPR. He received this galvanized spike from a friend of mine when he retired from the CPR in 1983. This one was repurposed for an equally great cause. Perhaps it could serve as our national emblem.
This modified version of the common spike reminds me of dad. And my uncle. However, whenever I open a refreshment with it, I reflect back to much tougher times working between the rails. That story is still being written.
……………………
A Few Blog Notes
I’ve been thinking of setting up a membership list for my website. I would divide my posts into those that are free to read and a ‘silver’ category, which only paid subscribers could access. Subscribers would be charged a fee of perhaps $20.00 CAN per year to access this category. It would contain all my short stories, novelettes, etc. My rationale is quite simple – to cover costs of running this website. I have no illusions about getting rich, but feel that paying to inform and entertain you just doesn’t seem right.
Lately more visitors from the rest of the world are checking my website. Those of you looking in from the USA (some of you whom I know), Ireland, Brazil, or any other country, let me know why you dropped into my site.
In the last few years the phrase ‘cultural appropriation‘ has popped up increasingly in just about every context imaginable. One definition of the phrase is: The unacknowledged or inappropriate adoption of the customs, practices, ideas, etc. of one people or society by members of another and typically more dominant people or society. Literature is no exception. Including mine. Many publishers are more cautious in what they publish. I think the two words I underlined in the definition are key. But they are widely interpreted. I’d like your opinions on the subject. Especially those of you who are of Indigenous background.
He was known as Koo-Koo-Sint (the man who looks at stars) by First Nations. David Thompson, trader, explorer, surveyor and mapmaker, became a highly renowned land geographer. Some say the best in the world. After studying his maps and how he managed to carry out his work, I tend to agree.
I’ve had the opportunity to apply Thompson’s work to furthering our history. In particular finding a few of the many fur trade posts in western Canada still lost in the wilderness. Or beneath our very noses.
This is my story of following in the shadows of these great ones. In this post I’ll focus on David Thompson. Perhaps in another post, Peter Fidler.
David Thompson
Born in Westminster, Middlesex, England, in 1770, to Welsh immigrants, Thompson joined the Hudson’s Bay Company at the age of 14. He studied surveying with the Company and was soon exploring uncharted territory in the Canadian Northwest. At age seventeen, he penetrated west as far as the present-day Calgary.
In 1798 Thompson joined the North West Company and devoted all his time mapping and exploring. He comes by his reputation as a great land surveyor and cartographer honestly. His maps were accurate, and his exploits covered over 80,000 kilometers by foot, horseback, or canoe. All previous maps of western America paled in comparison to his maps.
In 1804, David Thompson visited Fort Vermilion, then called LaFleur’s Post, by the North West Company. We know this from his daily journal. Here is an excerpt from his journal and arrival at the post. Good luck reading it. It may strain your eyes.
In Search of LaFleur’s Post (Fort Vermilion I)
Before 1998 Fort Vermilion was still lost in the northern Alberta wilderness. In 1968 John Nicks (Provincial Museum of Alberta) and Karlis Karklins (Parks Canada) searched for the post but did not find it.
In 1998 a few members of the community of Fort Vermilion asked me if I would try to find the first Fort Vermilion. It was important to them because 1998 marked its 200 birthday.
I accepted their invitation. I’d found Boyer’s Post a decade ago. A post which too had been swallowed up by the northern boreal forest and lost for 200 years. This I believed would be much easier than finding Boyer’s post whose location was only vaguely alluded to by the occasional passing explorer.
The search for these long forgotten places is often difficult. The first problem with the Fort Vermilion site was its remoteness. There were no roads near where we thought it might be, and the bush was dense along the lower terraces of the Peace River. Ground surface visibility was bad.
So, where was LaFleur’s post? Were there any records that talked about it? Did the Hudson’s Bay Company rebuild the post when the two companies amalgamated, or, did they move it in 1821?
The earliest known record of the location of LaFleur’s post comes from David Thompson’s 1804 journals. Thompson stated the post was on the left bank of the river 17 miles downriver from the mouth of the Keg River. Those seem like pretty good details until you begin to think about them a little more. For instance, what does left bank mean? As you travel upriver, or downriver? Thompson didn’t elaborate. And then, was the Keg River the same one as today’s Keg River? Finally, what did 17 miles downriver mean? Were those river miles, or, were those a direct line to the fort from the mouth of the Keg River?
There was no way of determining on which side of the river bank the fort was located from Thompson’s left bank remark. Best to check both banks. In fact Nicks and Karklins had already checked the east bank in the general vicinity, and found nothing. Then there was the Keg River. I assumed that the historic and present names were the same. The reason for this was that Thompson noted other important landmarks in his journals, such as Wolverine Point (Carcajou) which still exists today on the Peace River.
Next was the distance of 17 miles. I examined both Thompson’s journals and other documents and found that these were river miles. Thompson used river track surveys, where he took a compass bearing and a distance to a point in the river where it turned and then repeated it as he traveled on the river. But, how accurate were these readings?
“Co. N12 E1m NE3/4m”(David Thompson’s notebook,May 3, 1804, Fort Vermilion)
Whatever methods Thompson used, his maps for the period were very accurate.
When I saw Thompson’s North Saskatchewan River map I realized there might be a similar Peace River map, marking all the forts along it. I quickly found Thompson’s Peace River map published in his narrative (1916). Much to my dismay this is what it looked like.
At the Royal Alberta museum we had a full sized reproduction of David Thompson’s original ‘territories’ map, including the Peace River. When I looked at that map, this is what I saw.
And, low and behold, there was Fort Vermilion on the west bank roughly where Thompson described it in his journals.
The lesson to be learned from this was to always go back to the original documents whenever possible. One of the rules of doing history and dealing with historic documents.
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Next we needed a fine water craft to get near the location where we thought the fort might be located. Below is a photograph of the official research vessel, known locally as the Barge, owned and operated by Mike Mihaly, High Level Alberta.
In October, 1998, two-hundred years after it was built we (Al and Marilee Toews, Fort Vermilion, and Mike Mihaly, High Level, Alberta) anchored about 500 metres from where after an afternoon of walking and stumbling through the bush we eventually found the long lost Fort Vermilion I. It was truly a day to be remembered for everyone.
As I later reflected after examining Colin Campbell’s (clerk for the Hudson’s Bay Company) journals at Fort Vermilion, we were fortunate to have such an astute observer as David Thompson. Or this fort might still be lost to us. Campbell spent nearly ten years at Fort Vermilion, keeping a journal for most of those years. There is not a single entry that would help identify the location of this and other forts along the river.
A Few Final Comments on David Thompson’s Maps and Journals
I am always amazed and somewhat in awe of how one man, using very simple, rudimentary instruments could so accurately map the Canadian West. In a canoe undergoing tremendous hardships and obstacles. Surely he deserves more recognition than a five cent postage stamp. Even the Canadian loon gets more monetary recognition.
As it turned out Thompson’s latitude reckonings (obtained by measuring the angle of the sun to the horizon at midday, or taking angle of the north star to the horizon with a sextant) were 11 seconds, or 220 metres off for the location of Fort Vermilion I. His estimation of longitude at Fort Vermilion were over 35 kilometres off. Not surprising, since you needed extremely accurate watches (one set at mean Greenwich time and one set locally to estimate longitude accurately). It would be later when Captain James Cook circumnavigated the globe mapping it, that more accurate time-pieces were available, thus producing more accurate maps.
“…brass Sextant of ten inches radius, an achromatic Telescope of high power for observing the Satellites of Jupiter and other phenomena, one of the same construction for common use, Parallel glasses and quiksilver horizon for double altitudes; Compass, Thermometer, and other requisite instruments, which I was in the constant practice of using in clear weather for observations on the Sun , Moon, Planets and Stars…” (David Thompson)
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References
Thompson, David, 1916. David Thompson’s Narratives of His Explorations in Western America 1784 – 1812. The Champlain Society. Toronto.
Hello everyone. It’s been a while since I last posted here. However that does not mean I haven’t been writing. I have. Just to a different audience – my archeological colleagues. And when I tell you that I’ve been writing about how deep objects sink when stepped on, and what that means for the archeological record, I can already hear the sighs of relief. ‘Sure glad he didn’t share that gem with us.’
For me it doesn’t get much more exciting than that. At least during these Covid times when repeatedly stepping on marbles was the highlight of my day. In fact, when I carried out some of these experiments along the banks of the North Saskatchewan River near Devon, Alberta, this summer they drew a lot attention. As in, ‘What’s that weirdo doing?‘ People were obviously bored.
After explaining to one mother and her ten year old daughter, why I was stomping on marbles in a sandbox, the mom quickly whisked her daughter away, looking over her shoulder to make sure I wasn’t following. I guess I left quite an impression. That young girl will now have forever an image in her head of what an archaeologist looks like and does for a living. And it won’t be the Indiana Jones kind, but some old guy, with long white hair tied in a pony tail, trampling on marbles, then carefully recording those results. And that poor mother’s ‘Indi’ dream archaeologist was forever shattered as well.
There are times however when my profession is a little more exciting and the things we find are jaw droppers. One-of-a-kinds, such as this bone/ivory artifact found at the Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830) fur trade post in northern Alberta. We think it’s a toothbrush, perhaps one of the earliest ever to enter the province. This perfectly preserved object, with some of the bristles still intact at both ends, currently is the only one found in Alberta and I have only seen a fragment of one like it found at a NWT fort.
So what is an object like this doing at a frontier wilderness post in what was then the middle of nowhere (and in some respects still is)? My colleagues and I have been asking ourselves that question for some time now. Aside from idle speculation, we have few definitive answers. Dental hygiene was not at a very advanced stage at the turn of the 19th century anywhere in the world, let alone some Canadian frontier trading post. Especially among the lower income fort laborer’s.
Although the toothbrush was already invented in China sometime in the 7th – 8th century A. D. by the Dang Dynasty, it took a while for Europe to catch on.
Here’s what the toothbrush history experts have to say on the subject:
“At around 1780, the first toothbrush was made by William Addis of Clerkenald, England. Addis, and later, his descendants, manufactured the finest English brushes, where the handles were carved out of the bone of cattle and the heads of the natural bristles were placed in the bored holes made in the bone and kept in place by thin wire. The natural bristles were obtained from the necks and shoulders of swine, especially from pigs living in colder climates like Siberia and China.
By the early 1800s the bristled brushes were in general use in Europe and Japan. In 1857, H. N. Wadsworth was credited as the first American to receive a toothbrush patent as America entered the growing toothbrush market.” (https://mrs-o-c.com/computers/history/toothbrush/toothbrushHistory.htm
Here is sort of a similar-looking bone toothbrush from 1844:
It’s not as if this was a common artifact in western Canada. No. It was essentially a ‘one-off.’ And how did this rather pristine, still functional object end up in the fort midden pile? We can only speculate, but it seems reasonable to assume it belonged to a person who did not linger long at this ‘silvan abode in the woods.’ (A tongue-in-cheek quote from Alexander Ross, 1825, describing the rather decrepit looking Fort Assiniboine, Alberta) Or we would have found more like it.
Let me assure you this find is unusual and not normal fur trade archaeology. But then trampling on marbles isn’t either. Both however do make for a good story. In my next post I’ll speculate even more about this object with a short story of historical fiction. I wish I could share this post with that mother and child to help restore their image of archaeology. Too late for that though.
Until then, stay safe everyone.
In the meantime, in order to fight Covid, I’m going to brush my teeth with the new toothpaste I just acquired. If they had this toothpaste in the fur trade, we would have found a lot more toothbrushes:
Tobacco was an integral part of the Canadian fur trade. It was smoked, chewed and snuffed. It was traded and gifted to Indigenous peoples, and consumed by both men and women. One of the most common ways of smoking tobacco was with a clay tobacco pipe. However, not all pipes were made of clay. This is a story of one of the most interesting and unusual types of tobacco pipes I have run across – a stone tobacco pipe.
Clay Tobacco Pipes
Whenever we excavate at the inland fur trade posts in Canada, one of the most common artifacts we recover are clay tobacco pipe fragments. These pipes are the remnants of smoking activities at these posts. They come in a variety of shapes and sizes. At the end of the 18th century the stem on some of these pipes, known as Churchwardens, was nearly three feet long. Only the upper classes smoked them while the laborers smoked the shorter stemmed cuttie.
Many of the 18th and 19th century clay tobacco pipes shipped to the inland posts, were made in Europe. The Hudson’s Bay Company imported most of their pipes from England. Many of the pipe bowls and stems were stamped sometimes with the maker’s name or initials. It wasn’t until the latter half of the 19th century that a Canadian clay pipe industry took hold in eastern Canada. Bannerman of Montreal clay pipes were shipped to the Alberta fur trade posts.
The Somewhat Puzzling History of Western Canadian Stone Tobacco Pipes
But not all pipes were made of clay. When we excavated the North West Company Fort George (c.1792-1800) site in east-central Alberta we found platform (a type) tobacco pipes made from soapstone, pipestone or local mudstone. They were found in domestic household refuse along with many other common fur trade artifacts (beads, buttons, etc.). These pipes are poorly documented.
We often speculated who made and smoked these pipes. They certainly were not European. Or, so we initially thought. And, what were they doing in Alberta, Canada?
Initially we thought these pipes were made by local Indigenous men or women working at the western Canadian fur trade forts. But there is no record of this kind of pipe being used prior to White contact in Alberta. Only recently I realized that these pipes were similar to Iroquois platform pipes. Iroquois? In Alberta? Well, yes. The Northwest Company brought Iroquois hunters out west to trap furs in the late 18th – early 19th centuries. (The community of ‘Calahoo’, Alberta is named after an Alberta Iroquoian family.)
I thought at this point at least we now knew the possible origins of this pipe style. Quite possibly brought west by the Iroquois hunters who lived at the forts. But then, after seeing the image below, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
The North West Company hired many French Canadians to work at their inland western Canadian posts. These men made up the famous canoe brigades and worked mostly as laborers at the posts when not paddling. So, it is entirely possible that they brought their stone pipes with them, or fashioned them out of local material at the forts.
We found similar stone pipe fragments at the remote northern Alberta fur trade posts, such as Fort Vermilion, Peace River region. But the peculiar markings on these pipes add a bit of a twist to the story.
Over the years I have noticed artifacts with similar circle-and-dot markings on them in other western Canadian fur trade assemblages. The circle-and-dot motif is an Athabaskan symbol that has a geographical distribution ranging from central Alberta to northwestern Alaska. Was this tobacco pipe style adopted by Athabaskan-speaking people who then put their markings on it? Quite possibly. Interestingly, in Alberta the style seems to disappear by the 1840s.
A Few Final Thoughts
Occasionally archaeologists recover artifacts from a documented period of Canadian history whose origins and uses are puzzling. Not all material culture is well documented. Especially when it belongs to people who aren’t doing any of the documenting. These objects were likely made and used by Indigenous people and/or French Canadian voyageurs (who were mostly illiterate) – a people without a written history. In the case of the stone tobacco pipes, careful dating and geographic location are extremely important to figure out their possible origins and uses.
References
Daviau, Marie-Helen. 2008. La Pipe de pierre dans la societe conadienne des XVII et XIX siecles. Centre interuniversitaire d’etudes sur les letters, les arts et les traditions (CELAT), Quebec.
Heinz W. Pyszczyk. 2015. The Last Fort Standing: Fort Vermilion and the Peace River Fur Trade, 1798-1830. Occasional Papers of the Archaeological Society of Alberta. Number 14.
Note: In my next post, I’ll tell you about another unusual tobacco pipe in the fur trade. However, before I reveal more about this artifact, I will write a short story about it first.
Sometimes the Meanings of Place Names Have a Surprising History
Place names in Canada usually say something about geography (Two-Hills, Alberta), political or ethnic affiliations (Shackleton, Saskatchewan), events (Cut Knife, Saskatchewan), or plants and animals (Frog Lake, Alberta). Or sometimes just the name of the first local postmaster. In my last post I talked about the meaning and origins of Cabri, Saskatchewan. In this post I examine the meaning of Fort Vermilion, Alberta. At first glance the name seems straightforward, but with further research, is also a bit confusing. Perhaps even a little misleading.
I spent over thirty years doing research in this area. Like everyone else, I assumed that Fort Vermilion referred to the ochre sources in the area. But, my latest bit of research suggests otherwise.
Fort Vermilion, Alberta
When talking to the locals and checking out the web site, Fort Vermilion got its name from, “…the vermilion coloured clays lining the river banks.” When you read that phrase carefully, it suggests that at this particular place, Fort Vermilion, there are red clays containing enough iron oxide to make an ochre the same color as vermilion. Clearly the community was not named after vermilion per se, only the color of vermilion. Before we go any further, vermilion and ochre are different materials:
Vermilion – a brilliant red pigment made from cinnabar.
Ochre – an earthy pigment containing ferric oxide, typically in clay, varying from light yellow to brown or red.
Cinnabar – a mineral containing toxic mercury sulfide (HgS). It is a brilliant red color. Humans used it as a pigment in paint for thousands of years in many parts of the world. Until they realized it was highly toxic.
A Brief History of Fort Vermilion
In 1788 the northwest Company’s Charles Boyer, established a post near the confluence of the Boyer and Peace Rivers. The post only lasted four years and then the Company moved downriver and established Aspen House near La Crete, Alberta. By 1798 they were on the move again and built LaFleur’s Post even further downriver.
In 1821 the Northwest Company and the Hudson’s Bay Company amalgamated becoming the Hudson’s Bay Company. Colin Campbell became the clerk at the original LaFleur’s fort but changed the name to Fort Vermilion. Initially I thought he was referring to the reddish colored clays in the area. But now I wonder. In 1830, the Hudson’s Bay Company abandoned the post and built a new one in the present community of Fort Vermilion.
Problems of location
The first obvious problem is that the original name of Fort Vermilion refers to a different fort that was located in a different place. However, rest assured residents of Fort Vermilion, there are clay-like deposits with iron content near your community, probably to make ochre. No need to rush out and change the name just yet. (Perhaps later, when you read the rest of this post).
Problems of Meaning
But, was Colin Campbell really referring to ochre which resembled the color of vermilion? One day I was reading the Fort Vermilion journals, again (for the hundredth time), researching a novel I am working on (to be published in the not-so-near future). And I ran across these references: October 21, 1841: “Most Indians equipped: Preparing for a GrandDance before leaving. Give them the usual allowance tobacco & paintor vermilion…” (HBC Fort Vermilion Journal). Then again In 1844: August 20th, 1844: “…although the Sabbath Indians have their animal dance for which I allowed them tobacco & vermilion.”
Was Campbell referring to real vermilion or the local ochre? I checked the earlier fort inventory lists and ‘vermilion’ is listed in the goods coming in from Hudson Bay and Europe. Its likely the real thing – vermilion. Now that folks is a little scary because if it was truly vermilion and First Nations applied it to their faces or arms, then it would have had some nasty effects. Vermilion is quite toxic.
In an earlier journal reference I read: “Beaver Indians frightened of devils, strangers, can’t sleep & very uneasy.” (August 23, 1840, HBC Journal) I can’t, in all honesty, say that the paint was causing these problems, but the description is suggestive of some classic symptoms of mercury poisoning.
Before you go on a rant about this being yet another example of the mistreatment of Canada’s Indigenous people, let’s put this topic into proper historical perspective. In the 19th century no one really knew how toxic mercury was. Or vermilion. And the proof of their ignorance? They used it in paints for centuries. They also used lead and mercury in the beaver felt hat making process, exposing themselves to this poison. And, as a hatter if you were exposed long enough to this stuff, you became ‘mad as a hatter.’ And the gentlemen in Europe wore those mercury, lead-laced hats on their heads! And lastly, why would you poison the people who you are trading with?
What Does the Archaeology Say?
Occasionally, when the moon and stars are in perfect alignment, the archaeological record can act as an independent source of verification of historical facts. In 2016, while excavating at the 1798-1830 LaFleur’s/Vermilion post, we got lucky. Very lucky. We came across this brightly colored red stain in one of the old building cellars. What is this stuff? Ochre or Vermilion? To me, just from looking at the color, it looks more like vermilion than ochre. Time will tell. We are in the process of analyzing this goo to see what it really is.
Some Final Thoughts About the Meaning of Place
Over the years I have read many historic documents. I am fully aware of the baggage they sometimes carry: Opinionated, biased, factually inaccurate, etc. Some topics are worse than others. When I think about the naming of place, I am still uncertain what to believe. After looking at many names in Canada, it doesn’t seem like a spur of the moment kind of thing – to name a place. It usually means something related to the area. Or perhaps, no one could think of one, so the postmaster’s last name have to do.
What was Colin Campbell thinking when he renamed his new fort ‘Vermilion’? Honestly, I’m not sure. Was it because the HBC was trading vermilion to the Natives? Was it because he saw the Natives wearing paint that looked like vermilion? Was it because he saw outcrops along the river banks that looked like vermilion? Have I missed any other possibilities? Probably. But one thing is certain. The color red influenced his decision. Understanding names is never a simple matter.
PS: I’m just about done with names and places – for now. Maybe I’ll continue with poisons and health for a while. Stay tuned.