Small Things That Bind A Nation

Whenever I think of everyday objects that bind, I think of duct tape first. And one Red Green show in particular where Steve Smith tries to prevent Quebec from separating by duct taping it to Ontario.

“A museum should not just be a place for fancy paintings but should be a place where we can communicate our lives through our everyday objects.”

Orhan Pamu

(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.

This 1966 Mercury M-100, on display at the new Royal Alberta Museum, talks to Albertans’ love for the pickup truck in the 1960s. It represents the many people who owned one for either travel or work in our province. In has meaning and a connection to our society.

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.

We are all familiar with the common wire nail. Nails, like many objects, have a complex history and changed over time.

Nails and Spikes Through History

I won’t bother you with the entire history of nails or spikes. For those of you interested for a more in-depth look, here are a few websites to check out: https://www.harpgallery.com/library/nails.htm. And, go to good old Wiki: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nail_(fastener). Some of the first nails however date back over 5,000 years.

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.

These corroded ferrous hand-forged nails were relatively rare at the Fort Vermilion I (c.1798 – 1830) site, Alberta, Canada. Heavy iron nail rod had to be shipped inland for thousands of miles to these forts, so nails were used sparingly. Because the fort did not have a blacksmith, these nails were likely made at Fort Chipewyan and shipped upriver. This was the major nail type in western Canada until approximately the middle of the 19th century.
This rare artifact which we think is a nail heading jig was recovered from the blacksmith’s shop at the NWC Fort George (1792-1800), Alberta, Canada.

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.

Machine-cut nails, from the HBC Fort Edmonton V (c.1830-1915) site. Because this site spans such a long period of time, we found hand-forged, machine-cut and common wire nails in the archaeological record.

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).

A variety of common wire nails found at the HBC Fort Edmonton V site, Alberta, Canada.

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.

This priest’s log house, at the St. Louis Mission, Fort Vermilion, Alberta was built in c.1909. Wire spikes were driven into the dovetailed log corners to better secure them. No square nails were present. Mind you, those spikes could have been driven in thirty years later.
If I were to only display this spiral wire nail there’s not much of a WOW factor here. But if I added that Gilbert Laughton, blacksmith at Buckingham House (c.1782-1800) was experimenting with some spiral square-shanked nails already 220 years ago, the story becomes more interesting (sorry, I don’t have good photo). I’m sure it didn’t leave you speechless, but more interesting nevertheless.

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.

Common horseshoe nail has been around for a long time. Head shapes changed but the tapered square/rectangular shank remained.

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.

The logs in this building in northern Alberta were held together by wooden dowels between the logs.
The log corner of this cellar cribbing under the trader’s shop at the HBC Fort Victoria (c.1864-1898) contained a well preserved wood dowel to keep the corners together.

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.

These copper alloy nails come from the HBC Fort Edmonton V (c.1830-1915). York boat building was an important industry at this fort. Boat nails had to be rust-resistant.

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.

Different types of nail head types found at the HBC Fort Victoria site, Alberta, Canada. From Archaeological Investigations: Fort Victoria, 1974. Losey, Timothy, et. al. Occasional Paper No. 2, 1977. Alberta Culture, Historical Resources.

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.

The Canadian flag with the common nail as the symbol of a Canadian identity. The following source seems to read a lot into a leaf: “Maple trees symbolize balance, offering, practical magic, promise, longevity, generosity, and intelligence. One reason behind these meanings is that maple trees have the ability to adapt to many different soil types and climates.” https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&q=the+meaniing+of+the+canadian+maple+leaf

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 common railroad spike. Does it have greater potential for national significance than the lowly common nail?

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.

Typical rail, wood tie, tie plate and spike used to fasten rails and tie plate to the wood tie. http://www.railway-fasteners.com/news/tie-plates-overview.html

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.

Perhaps one of the most iconic photographs in Canadian history. The driving of the last spike by Donald Smith at Craigellachie, British Columbia, 1885.

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.

The silver spike that was to be driven at the last spike driving ceremony at Craigellachie, British Columbia by Donald Smith in 1885. But it never made it in time. Good thing. He probably would have bent it. Courtesy of the Canadian Museum of History.

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?

The third last spike used in the ceremony ended up in private hands, and was repurposed. https://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/legendary-railway-spike-thought-lost-to-history-until-now/article4365698/#c-image-0https://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/legendary-railway-spike-thought-lost-to-history-until-now/article4365698/#c-image-0

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.

On that same November day, in 1885, workers who built the railway near Donald, British Columbia. This may be their version of the iconic photo of the Last Spike. Courtesy of BC Archives/D-02469. Story from https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/the-other-last-spike-feature#

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 galvanized spike sits in my kitchen drawer. As I get older it takes on more meaning than I ever would have imagined.

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

  1. 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.
  2. 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.
  3. 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.

How I Lost My Head to History – The Story of Anthony Henday

“There is a history in all men’s lives.”

William Shakespeare

Who was Anthony Henday?

Whenever I travel down Anthony Henday Drive in Edmonton, Alberta, I am reminded of this man’s journey to Alberta 266 years ago; and of my own somewhat peculiar involvement in it. You see, there are many ways to explore and understand human history. I thought I might gain more insight into that sometimes murky past by doing something a little different. But, before I tell you about what I did, first we need a little background about Anthony Henday.

Anthony Henday Drive, a ring road which goes entirely around most of Edmonton. Constructed over a 26 year period at a cost of $4.3 billion, the highway can have a traffic volume of 106,000 vehicles per day.
Anthony Henday’s journey to Alberta

In the first half of 1990s the then Provincial Museum of Alberta wanted to develop a new First Nations gallery of culture (which opened in 1997). My job was to help develop a First Nations-European contact display. Anthony Henday I thought. That’s a great contact story. A no brainer. ‘Who is that’, you ask? You know, the dude who, in 1754, paddled, rode, walked, from Hudson Bay to Alberta to ask the ‘Archithinue’ (probably Blackfoot) to come to York Factory to trade (a distance of over 1,500km). He was one of the first white men to contact them in our province. (The French may have been in Alberta earlier. But that is another story).

“…where we were conducted to the Leader’s tent; which was at one end, large enough to contain fifty persons; where he received us seated on a clear (white) Buffalo skin, attended by 20 elderly men….Attickasish my Guide, informed him I was sent by the Great Leader who lives down at the great waters, to invite his young men down to see him and to bring with them Beaver skins, & Wolves skins; & they would get in return Powder, Shot, Guns, Cloth, Beads, &c. He made little answer: only said that it was far off, & they could not paddle.” (from Anthony Henday’s journal, October 14, 1754, somewhere near Innisfail, Alberta)

After the Blackfoot leader turned down his request, Henday wandered around Alberta for the rest of the winter with his Cree and Assiniboine companions, not really knowing where he was and almost totally dependent on them: November 16, 1754. “Women making cloathing for cold weather…” Those women made his clothing as well, or he likely would have froze to death. The group eventually ended up near or at Edmonton in the spring of 1755.

Over the years there has been considerable controversy surrounding Henday’s journal (of which there are four different versions, none being his original) and his journey west. Was the whole thing a fabrication? Did he travel this far west? And, how do we know Henday ended up in or near Edmonton? His journal entries are quite specific on both direction and distance; and, occasionally land-forms. Before coming to Canada he was a seaman (some think a smuggler) in England. Sailing required a rudimentary knowledge of navigation including the use of a compass. Note the direction and distance of some of Henday’s journal entries: Sunday, October 12, 1754: “Travelled 8 Miles. S.W.b.W.”; Wednesday, October 30, 1754: “Travelled 4 Miles W.b.N.”; Thursday, November 7, 1754. “Travelled 4 Miles N.W.”

These are compass bearings. it is highly likely Henday was using a compass rose such as the one shown below:

This compass rose has only 16 points and is divided into sixteen segments (22.5 degrees each). Some compass roses are divided into as many as 32 points of direction. On occasion Henday uses a 32 point bearing (e.g., “Travelled 4 Miles W.b.N‘).

There are also a lot of problems when taking Henday’s directions and distances and plotting them on a modern map to see where he traveled. Alwynne Beaudoin, Royal Alberta Museum, and I did just that realizing, and taking into account, that magnetic north in 1754 would not have been the same as it is today (see our article for more detail, listed in the references at the end of this blog). Also, how accurate was Henday in estimating distances in a canoe, on horseback or on foot? Here’s roughly the route that many of us think Henday took when he got near Edmonton. He likely came up Saunders Lake, and the Gwynne Channel (located south of Edmonton which connects to Blackmud Creek.) His journal entries indicate that after journeying up Saunders Lake, he trekked approximately 20km on the ice of a river until he reached the North Saskatchewan River. (A cursory look on a map of the Edmonton region shows there are not many creeks or rivers big enough to choose from). He most likely continued north up the Gwynne Channel, and then followed Blackmud Creek (which connects to Whitemud Creek) until he reached the North Saskatchewan River, putting him in today’s Edmonton – a distance of approximately 20km.

A map of the Edmonton area showing Saunders Lake, Gwynne Channel to the south, connecting to Blackmud and Whitemud Creeks to the North Saskatchewan River.
The Making of the Anthony Henday Diorama

We developed a diorama with Henday sitting in a large tipi feasting with the Blackfoot leader. One side of the tipi was open displaying a large mural depicting the rolling landscape in the Innisfail area and the camp’s curious onlookers peering in, having probably never seen a white man before:

Anthony Henday sitting to the ‘Archithinue’ Leader’s right. In the foreground are the trade gifts Henday brought with him and the bowl of buffalo tongues which the group are feasting on. His Cree ‘companion’ and Attickasish (decked out as a trading captain) are on Henday’s right. An elder sits on the left side of the Archithinue leader
Casting My Head and Hands

We needed mannequins in the Henday diorama, including Henday. I was asked if I would like to be Henday. To do that, I would have to have my head and hands cast. Without much hesitation or forethought, I agreed. What better way to get into character, and perhaps even divine what this guy was like 250 years ago. Really get inside Henday’s head.

In hindsight what was I thinking? I didn’t realize that in order to be Henday I had to have my head and hands encased in cement – well, a form of plaster of Paris. My mustache was shaved off, my eyebrows greased up and my hair covered in plastic. (Those of you who are claustrophobic should maybe stop reading this blog now.) First, they greased up my hands, then poured plaster over them, and told me not to move them. Of course, as soon as they said that I immediately wanted to move my hands. It took twenty minutes for the plaster to set and I managed hold up, kind of. But the worst was yet to come.

My head was next. What I didn’t know was that my entire head would be covered in plaster. My only connection to life consisted of two small nose holes to let me breath. At that point lots of things went through my mind; mostly of what potentially could go wrong. So, they poured plaster over my entire head with just those two little holes connecting me to life. ‘Just try to relax Heinz. This won’t take long.’ I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t see. My head was getting rather warm as the plaster set. The only thing I remember thinking, was: ‘Don’t panic, don’t start hyperventilating or you will suck plaster up your nose.’

Me (Anthony Henday). There is no painting, sketch, or even a description of what Anthony Henday looked like. Born in 1725, he would have been about 29 years old when first entering Alberta. Given the time period and his rough mode of travel, he likely would have had a beard and long hair.

Despite my worst fears, the results turned out pretty good, as you can see from these images. I was dressed in the style of the time period. I received hair and a beard. Thousands of people have looked at me (Henday) over the years, not knowing who I really was. I’m still sitting there on a billboard beside the Queen Elizabeth II Highway, near Innisfail, Alberta, somewhere near where Henday probably met the Archithinue in 1754.

As to being any wiser about Henday’s life, having my head encased in plaster? I would not recommend this method to anyone.

The Historic Sites of Alberta Anthony Henday sign beside the Queen Elizabeth Highway, near Innisfail, Alberta. (Courtesy of Alberta Culture, Multiculturalism and Status of Women.)

The Henday diorama and the old Provincial Museum of Alberta are gone. So is my head. I am in the process of asking about it; maybe even getting it back. I just talked to the Director of the new Royal Alberta Museum, Mr. Chris Robinson, about my head. (He didn’t even know that I was in that diorama posing as Henday; it was before his time as director). He’s looking for it. Wish me luck.

Henday in 1997 (left). The wannabe Henday today, much greyer and older (other left).

Note: Hey, Edmontonians, or other Albertans, Canadians, take a survey of how many people know about Anthony Henday. At your next dinner party, on the streets of Edmonton, your local hockey rink. Wherever. Ask people who Anthony Henday is and what he means to this City. I’d love to hear the results. I would guess, approximately only one-third of the people you ask will know, yet many of us see that sign almost every day. I’m doing my own survey and will post all results in a later blog. Maybe by then I will have found my head.

References

Beaudoin, Alwynne Beaudoin and Heinz W. Pyszczyk. 1998. Where Was Anthony Henday and What Did He See? Alberta Archaeological Review 28:25-31. [Alwynne Beaudoin and I traveled around the Innisfail area trying to use Henday’s directions to find land-forms and reconstruct his journey. As we crested a rather high hill that morning, I looked west and saw the Rocky Mountains, as Henday might have. I (and others) always wondered why he never mentioned them in his journal, until I read a quote from David Thompson about those same mountains: “At length the Rocky Mountains came in sight like shining white clouds in the horizon, but we doubted what our guide said; but as we proceeded, they rose in height their immense masses of snow appeared above the clouds…” (David Thompson’s journals. In Travels in Western North America, 1784-1812, edited by Victor G. Hopwood, pp.94.) And, then once the humidity had increased in the afternoon, we could no longer see them.

Burpee, Lawrence J. [editor] 1973. The Journal of Anthony Henday, 1754-55. York Factory to the Blackfoot Country. Canadian House, Toronto. [There is a lot of controversy around Henday’s journal, of which there are four different versions, and where exactly he traveled. Some scholars even claim they are a fabrication. However, based on his descriptions of land-forms, rivers, and directions, I believe he did make it to Alberta. Just not always where Burpee puts him. Despite all these problems, the Henday journal is a great little read]

MacGregor, J.G.  1954. Behold the Shining Mountains. Applied Arts Products Ltd., Edmonton, Alberta. [Historian, James MacGregor also plotted Henday’s route from Hudson Bay to Alberta, based on his journal entries. It differs considerably from Burpee’s map. Burpee has Henday turning south, after meeting the Archithinue, and returning to York Factory, via the Red Deer River while MacGregor has him turning north and ending up along the North Saskatchewan River. Almost al Henday’s entries after that meeting are to the west and north.]

Scott, Stephen P. 1997. A Puzzle Revisited: Historiography and Documentary Problems in the Journals of Anthony Henday (MA). University of Winnipeg/University of Manitoba. [If you really want to get into the details of Henday’s life and journal, then Mr. Scott’s MA is a good read.]