OREGON COLLECTION PS 3552 .E746 T75 Moss. The use 0 nd abuse of history in the new western novel: A C8se study of Tr'>sk. 1977. \ ~ ' ( C ,?IS,)..tU-'!"'""·' ~ . . . - 1 1 ( 1' L~~ Of THP: ~ 1ft UNWvRSrrr op : ORF1GON I ' ' l USE AND ABUSE OF HISTORY IN THE NEW WESTERN NOVEL: A CASE STUDY OF TRASK by JAMES DAVIDSON MOSS A THESIS Presented to the Department of History and the Graduate School of the University of Oregon in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts December 1977 An Abstract of the Thesis of James Davidson Moss for the degree of in the Department of History to be taken Master of Arts December 1977 Title: The Use and Abuse of History in the New Western Novel: A Case Study of Trask Approved: !L ~ ~ Edwin R. Bingham The novels of Don Berry rank among the best to emerge from the Northwest and can be considered as serious entries in a growing group of New Western novels. While the term "New Western" is widely used, definitions of its meaning are diverse and at times conflicting. This study delves into the diversity and presents a definition of the New Western novel as a historical tool. The New Western is seen as a probe into the themes and traditions of the western experience, and . as such it can be used in the study of history. The use of fiction in the study of history presents several problems, however, because a novelist goes beyond the usual constraints of a factual record. How the novelist uses, or in some cases abuses, the historical record is important to the historian. This study examines Don Berry's Trask as an example of a New Western novel to determine the manner in which the historical records and traditions of the Northwest have been adapted to use in fiction. APPROVED:_c _(_..:...c- _; w--__ • _t1-___:._·_~-=-- +--- - Edwin R. Bingham ii VITA NAME OF AUTHOR: James Davidson Moss PLACE OF BIRTH: Haverhill, Massachusetts DATE OF BIRTH: March 21, 1946 UNDERGRADUATE AND GRADUATE SCHOOLS ATI'ENDED: Wesleyan University University of Oregon DEGREES AWARDED: Bachelor of Arts, 1975, University of Oregon AREAS OF SPECIAL INTEREST: United States Social and Cultural History Northwest History PROFESSIONAL EXPERIENCE: Teaching Assistant, Department of History, University of Oregon, 1975-1977 Project Assistant, Inventory Phase, Kam Wah Chung Museum, John Day, Oregon AWARDS AND HONORS : PUBLICATIONS: iii iv TABLE OF CONTENTS Chapter I. INTRODUCTION: THE NEW WESTERN NOVEL. 1 I I . DON BERRY AND TRASK • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 24 III. HISTORICAL :&\.CKBROUND ................... 34 IV. USE AND ABUSE OF HISTORY .................. 78 V. BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94 I. INTRODUCTION: TIIE NEW WESTERN NOVEL Western fiction, western novels, western stories, or just plain Westerns; whatever terms are employed, all elicit a definite image in the collective mind of the reading public. Any writing labeled as 'western' is doomed to be stigmatized as primitive, shallow, stilted, 1 and without any redeeming literary or historical value. Over the years the term 'western' has . become synonymous with 'fornnila,' and certainly this circumstance has come about with a considerable degree of justifi- cation. As a source of literary material, the American West has been sorely abused almost from its inception. In the 19th century the West became associated with popular fiction or adventure fiction, and because of this identification most serious writers shunned western themes as degrading to their principles of art. Writing a review of James Fenimore Cooper's Wyandotte in 1843, Edgar Allen Poe reflected the thoughts of contemporary literati: This theme--life in the wilderness--is one of intrinsic and universal interest ... a theme like that of life on the ocean, so unfailingly ol1Il1.iprevalent in its power of arresting and absorbing attention, that . . . . success or popularity is, with such a subject, expected a$ a matter of course. Poe goes on to relegate the theme of life in the wilderness to the "pop- ular division" of fiction, in other words to the literary scrapheap, because such works IID.lst soon be "lost or forgotten; or remembered, if 1 at all, with something very nearly akin to contempt." 2 Poe's rather harsh judgement proved somewhat prophetic. The hey- day of the 'dime novel' produced masses of mindless adventure stories, all highly forIIDllized and all virtually indefensible as literature. Yet an increasingly crowded, industrialized, and urbanized Eastern public devoured the stories in huge quantities. Whether the hero was a miner~ a settler, or a scout, he played out a stereotyped role in a repetitive plot. Depth of character was discarded in favor of overblown heroism and exaggerated virtue. Deplorable as this fiction was, however, Irwin and Erastus Beadle grew wealthy a£ter 1860 by exploiting the West to supply escape and broad entertainment in their dime novels. The public never seemed to tire of the same plot conventions and perfect heroes, and the writers were all too willing to continue providing what the public wanted. Explaining her ever-perfect protagonists, the highly popular . and prolific Emma Southworth wrote that she had "catered for what I believed to be the 2 popular taste, 't To change the heroes was impossible; for how can one alter perfection? Stories based on the supposed exploits of real men such as fuffalo Bill Cody and Kit Carson were always doctored up a bit to fit the standard forIIDllas of the day. One student of 19th century popular fiction has called fuffalo Bill "the perfect stuffed shirt of the story-paper wilderness." In all of his exploits, 1Cited in Leslie A. Fiedler, The Return of the Vanishing American (New York, 1968), pp. 127-8. 2 ci ted in Mary Noel, V_1.._· 1 ... 1 .. a_1 ... ·n .. s~G~al=o:;;..;r::;..;e:::......,s-.•.__s-..Th:.:.:;e::.....:H.:.:e::..Y~d:::a:..y~o~f~t=h::::.e Popular Story Weekly (New York, 1954), p. 162. he never drank . . In [Prentisif Ingraham's stories, he never smoked, in [Nei/ Buntline's only occasionally and with apologies. In Ingraham's stories he never left off a "g" at the end of an "ing" word. He never swore or uttered a word of slang. In Buntline's a few liberties of speech were allowed him, but even in moments of unrestr~ined anger Buffalo Bill was conscious of his audience. · 3 Before Ingraham wrote his way to popular fame as the biographer of Buffalo Bill, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote of him what could nicely serve as his epitaph, nI think we may say that he writes the worst novels ever written by anybody. 4 But they sell." A turning point came in 1902 when Owen Wister's The Virginian became a best seller. The Virginian broke from the mold of starched and stereotyped 'western' literature, as Wister attempted to bring depth to his characters and weight to his story. The Virginian is not an adven- ture story, although it has adventuresome moments; it is not a cowboy story, although it ostensibly portrays cowboys; and it is not fluffy pop- ular fiction, although it became a best seller. The Virginian is about a moral dilermna that cannot be solved simply with blazing guns, physical stamina, or steely-eyed courage. The dilermna .revolves around a theme that has become a staple of some of the best, and in a slightly altered form some of the worst, twentieth century western writing: the conflict between a moral code of law and a statutory code of law. Don D. Walker has outlined three types of law demonstrated in t.he West; a natural law encompassing the actions of animals and perhaps solitary men, a living law covering cultural mores and customs within a small cormmmity 3Ibid., p. 157. 4Ibid., p. 18. reflecting the needs of that corrnmnity, and a positive law including statutory law and legal traditions of civilization. 5 The problem for 4 the characters of The Virginian arises when the coII111D.lnity law is in con- flict with the statutory law, when neither civilization nor frontier com- nrunity is completely in control. Civilization is overtaking the coII111D.l- nity, but it is not yet accepted as the characters struggle to solve problems with past standards and customs. Judge Henry thus can justify the lynching of rustlers by asserting the efficacy of living law over statutory law and by saying one IIIl..lst take justice back into his own hands where it was once at the beginning of all things. Call this primitive, if you will. But so far from being a defiance of the law, it is an assertion of it--the fundamental assertion of self-governing men, upon whom our whole social fabric is based. 6 Wister resolved the dilemma in favor of civil disobedience as the only possible moral action for his characters, rejecting the inflexibil- ity of statutory and civilized law. In so doing, Wister earned the approbation of those who deplore the forlIIl..lla Western that followed on the heels of The Virginian; and by raising the question of moral dilemmas for the characters in western fiction, Wister deserves the praise of those who hope for high quality literature from the West. Western fiction after The Virginian had two paths to follow: one · led to a thorough examination of the American cha:I:acter and the American epic as it was played out in the vast expanses of the West; and the other led to a return to the empty popular fiction of the 19th century with a slight modification of the standard plots and characters. Unfortunately, 5 Don D. Walker, "The Meaning of Outlaw in the Mind of the West," The Possible Sack, I, no. 8 (1970), p. 1. 60wen Wister, The Virginian (Boston, 1968), p. 265. 5 writers on the West overwhelmingly chose the latter path. With Zane Grey'.s The Spirit of the Border (1906) and Riders of the Purple Sage (1912), both best sellers, the age of the cowboy Western arrived. The old wild-west weeklies and dime novels gave way to pulp and slick maga- zines which specialized in adventure stories aimed at nominal adults. The birth of the modern Western formula coincided with several factors that assured its success, while at the same time sealing the doom at least temporarily of quality fiction about the West. Growing numbers of public school graduates swelled the reading ranks; turn of the century patriotism searched for distinctively American heroes and found them in the cowboys of the forIIlllla West. As people became familiar with novels instead of short stories through serialization in magazines, and as novels shrank in average size, the forIIlllla Westerns (along with other formula fiction such as detective stories) provided an escape from the problems of an increasingly fast-paced urban life. In a complex society the West seemed to offer a respite, an oasis of refreshing rural t . . 7 ac 1v1ty. Writers more and more moved away from the facts of the western experience in America and concentrated instead on mastery of the formula while producing interesting stories. Between 1928 and 1932, at least nineteen handbooks appeared giving hints to would-be writers, and as testimony to their effectiveness, many amateur writers were able to become quite successful by following the guidelines laid out for Western 7Harold U. Faulkner, The Quest for Social Justice, 1898-1914 (New York, 1931), pp. 258-60; John R. Milton, "The Novel in the American West," Western Writing, · ed. Gerald W. Haslam (Albuquerque, 1974), pp. 75-6. 6 writing. 8 Frederick Faust, who wrote under at least nineteen different pen-names the most famous of which was Max Brand, once boasted to fellow fornru.la writer Frank Gruber, "I have written 300 western books and I've used only one plot. The good man becomes the bad man and the bad man becomes good. That way you have con£lict. 119 Faust himself had little or no respect for the output of his pen-names, saying that it was "junk, sheer junk't and had no more literary merit than his readers had literary 10 perception, but it paid the bills, handsomely. Like most of the form- ula writers Max Brand lmew nothing of the early West, but he was able to create what people imagined it to have been. Frederick D. Glidden gave up a: mediocre career as a newspaperman in the 19 30s, and after studying books on the craft as well as a few products of other writers he success- fully cranked out Westerns as Luke Short. 11 His novels resemble nothing so nruch as a 1950s housing development: all the houses used the same blueprints and only the outside paint varied. Richard W. Etulain has .echoed Edgar Allen Poe's lament about the themes of the West in his studies of Ernest Haycox. In explaining the success of the amateur writer, he claims the formula leaves no room for 12 the artist, only for the craftsman. The fornrula has so stifled the 8 Trenton M. White, How to Write for a Living (New York, 1937), pp. 314-5. 9Frank Gruber, The Pulp Jungle (Los Angeles, 1967), p. 183; Robert Easton, Max Brand: The Big "Westerner't (Norman, 1970), p. 265. lOQuentin Reynolds, The Fiction Factory (New York, 1955), pp. 181-2. 11 Luke Short, "Ernest Haycox: An Appreciation,n The Call Number, XXV (Fall 1963), pp. 2-3. 1 ~ichard W. Etulain, "The Literary Career of a Western Writer: Ernest Haycox, 1899-1950, ,t Diss., University of Oregon (1962), p. 98. 7 West as to leave no room for the development of social conscience or for the reflection on moral and philosophical questions. No matter that psychologists see mythic properties, as well as Freudian complexes, inher- ent in the genre, Westerns fail as literature. 13 And this failure has been generalized to all western fiction, thus branding all literature of the West as inferior or unworthy of attention. One critic has gone so far as to state that the chance for a distinctly western literature has been lost forever, because the original western experience was never recorded of, by, and for the West; the experience was always "adjusted to the dimensions, the tastes, the modes of the East. 11·14 Such a judgement is too harsh, however, for in the last thirty-five years, the novel of the West has matured. Al though the formula Western still rides the bookracks in great numbers, a western literature has in fact emerged. Writers have begun to examine the American epic and char- acter as it evolved in the West, and they have revived the West as a lit- erary setting. New Westerns, so named for the want of a better term, attempt to recover the much abused western experience and place it in context, complete with its own distinctive traditions, characteristics, and topography. Such a course entails a reassessment not only of the cheap myth created by the formula Western but also of the definition of the West and the themes associated with the western experience. 13 For example, Warren Barker, "The Stereotyped Western Story: Its Latent Meaning and Psycho-economic Function, rt Psycholoanalytic Quarterly (June 1955), pp. 271-2. 14Robert E. Lee, From West to East: Studies in the Literature of the American West (Urbana, 1966), pp. 155-63. For a similar though more temperate viewpoint, see Bernard DeVoto, 1tPhaeton on the Gunsmoke Trail," Harper's (December 1945). 8 The West is far more than just a physical setting, although geog- raphy IID.1st play an important role in any discussion of the West. It is an historical concept as well as an imaginative one. Western historical fiction needs in some fashion to come to grips with all the facets of the West; for, while the various aspects of the West are identifiable and subject to categorization, those aspects are all part of the same West. Just one of many problems for the western writer is to cope with the IIllllti-leveled West. The very size and vastness of the West tends to reduce all ques- tions to physical dimensions. Most writers and historians place the demarcation line for the West somewhere between the 95th and 100th merid- ian; some consider the Mississippi River, some the Missouri River. What- ever the perception, the West comprises approximately half the land mass of the country. Despite the attempts by some to reduce the region to arid or semi-arid topography, the West encompasses deserts, broad plains, innnense mountain chains, fertile valleys, and rain forests. What tie all of these components together are the concepts of space and scale; for, whatever the landscape, there is an accompanying impression of large- ness. The mountains would tower over their counterparts in the East; the plains and deserts seem endless; and the trees along the coast are enor- mous. Many of the early travellers in the West connnented on the vast size of everything; descriptions of the geography inevitably reflected the impact of size and distance on the observer. In 1845 Joel Palmer connnented in his journal on the nalmost countless number of mounds, in different directions" while on the prairies; and when he reached the Wind Mountains, he was impressed by the "huge masses of ice and snow piled up I . t 9 peak upon peak." Further, he "viewed the southern termination of this · 15 range; but they extend to the north farther than the eye can penetrate." In 1842 Medorem Crawford in his journal, •tthe most remarkable thing I have seen is the deception in distances. Bluffs which appear within 1 mile are often 5 miles from us." Later as he approached Fort Vancouver he called the area "the most romantic country I have yet seen," and he connnented on the "tall trees" and "Mt. Hood with its snowy peak glisten- ing in the sunbeams. 1116 Washington Irving in Astoria described the tall timber country as "woods so close and entangled that it was almost impossible to beat up the game. 1117 In 1874 Charles Nordhoff wrote that the sawmill at Astoria "with all its buzz and fuzz scarcely Lma.d.fd an appreciable impression upon the belt of timber, which so shuts in Astoria that I thought I had scarcely room in it to draw a full breath." The forest seemed perched to push the mill into the river. Nordhoff recorded another's exclama- 18 tion, "Timber--till you can't sleep." Bernard DeVoto effectively caught the impact of the West on the pioneers in The Year of Decision: 1846 when he wrote: 15 Joel Palmer, Journal of Travels over the Rocky Mountains to the · Mouth of the Columbia River, ed. Reuben Gold Thwaites (Cleveland, 1906), pp. 37, 70-1. 16F. G. Young, ed., The Journal of Medorem Crawford (Eugene, 1897), pp. 10, 21-2. 17 Cited in David Stratton, "The Diiermna of American Elbowroom," Pacific Northwest Quarterly, 56 (January 1965), p. 33. 18Charles Nordhoff, "The Columbia River and Puget Sound," Harper's New Monthly Magazine, XLVIII (February 1874), p. 339; for a similar view of the forests, see Joseph Williams, Tour to the Oregon Territory (1841-2) (New York, 1921), p. 49. The very width and openness of the country was an anxiety, It had no bound; the long heave of the continent never found a limit, and in that waste, that empty and untenanted and lonely waste, the strongest personality diminished, There was no place to hide in, and always there was the sun to hide from, further shrinking the cowering soul: Consciousness dwindled to a point: the little line of wagons was pygmy motion in immensity, the mind became a speck. A speck always quivering with an unidentified dread which few could face and which the · weaker ones could not control ... Some survived it unchanged or strengthened in their identity; some suffered from it, inflicting it on their families, for the rest of their lives,19 Earl Pomeroy has rejected concentration on environment as a tool in the study of western history, arguing that such a concentration dis- torts the reality of the West. 20 While Pomeroy may be correct in aiming historical study away from the environment, literary efforts need to con- centrate on the environment and its effects on individuals. Not to do so would be to ignore a large body of journals and diaries of those persons who experienced the early West first hand. (In fact it would ignore the impact that the West with its size and openness continues to have on new- comers from the East.) Don D. Walker has argued that the early journals are more than just the basis for literature and that they have intrinsic l ·t . 21 1 erary merit. While historians may be able to justify the study of the effects of man on the environment, those who study literature Im.1st 19 Bernard DeVoto, Year of Decision: 1846 (Boston, 1942), p, 160, 20Earl Pomeroy, "Toward a Reorientation of Western History: Con- tinuity and Environment," Mississippi Valley Historical Review, LXI (March 1955), p. · 581. 21Don D. Walker, "The Mountain Man Journal: Its Significance in a Literary History of the Fur Trade," Western Historical Quarterly, V (July 1974), p. 307. Walker also makes the point that the journals are them- selves a state of mind of man in the West. 11 come to grips with the effects of the environment on man. Authors of New Western novels certainly feel the presence of the land in the West. Paul Horgan has stated that "if there is a single per- vasive theme in writing about west, ... it could be identified as the theme of man, alone, against the immensity of nature. 1122 According to Walter Van Tilburg Clark, "nature, we might say, nn1st become an actor, 23 · not a backdrop." Clark later re-emphasized the point that "landscape is character, not background. It's not a stage. It's an active agent. 24 It nn1st be." James Stevens has written that his concern "is with man's place in nature; specifically with his place on the land of the Pacific Northwest. 1125 But the West is far more than just geography. Historians have long studied a West that began in Europe along the Atlantic seaboard, contin- ued to the New World shores, and progressed across the continent. The historians' West might be termed the frontier, the line of demarcation between the untamed wilderness and the encroaching civilization. The frontier remains the point of departure for the study of western history, although historians, as is their wont, do not agree as to its specific significance in the scheme of American history. 22John R. Milton, "The Western Novel: A Symposium,'r South Dakota Review, II (Autumn 1964), p. 28. 23Ibid., p. 17. 24John R. Milton, "Conversations with Western American Novelists," South Dakota Review, IX (Spring 1971), p. 31. See also Zane Grey, !'for- ward" of To the Last Man (New York, 1923). 25 · James Stevens, "Paul Bunyan, Thunderbirds, and Wobblies," North- west Harvest: A Regional Stocktaking, ed. V. L. O. Chittick (Portland, 1948), p. 109. 12 Whether or not the frontier had a major effect ·on the political thinking of the American people, the West had an effect on the imagina- tion of the country. Neal Lambert of Brigham Young University writes of the West as a "cluster of ideas" rather than as an historical concept or a physical fact. 26 These ideas are numerous and often contradictory, for ; the "terrestrial paradise" of Columbus is also the "howling wilderness" of the New England Puritans. 27 The natives are savage yet noble; fron- tier life is anarchic and democratic. But above all the West is oppor- tunity, whether for rebirth, freedom, success, simplicity, maturation, or escape. A number of themes develop from the western experience and from the West of the imagination. The landscape and the human drama of history suggest movement, struggle, and tension. Movement in the West was con- stant as settlers moved the frontier line across the face of the contin- ent, as long caravans of Conestogas trudged over the plains, or as bands of trappers roved the streams in search of beaver. The movement west was also one of progress, from discovery to settlement; it reflected a matur- ation, civilization, and success. Usually the movement in the West has been seen as a change from simplicity to complexity, from wilderness to civilization. Yet certainly no small part of the movement in the West was an escape from complexity to simplicity, a rejection of the social 26Neal Lambert, "Heroes and Villains, Virtue and Vice: American Values in the Literature of the West," Essays on the Ame~ican West 1972-73, ed. Thomas G. Alexander (Provo, 1974), p. 29. See also Wallace Stegner, The Sound of Mountain Water (Garden City, 1969), p. 146. 27For a fuller discussion of the concepts of 'west' prior to New World settlement, see Fiedler, pp. 31~43. I I ,1 accoutrements of civilization in favor of the . freedom and individuality of the frontier. 13 The theme of the West is also the theme of struggle; it reflects the endurance of an individual, a family, a coIIIIID..l.Ility, or a civilization, whether in the face of the elements, the land, the natives, or the unlmown. There is hope; there is endeavor; and there is success. The West is the scene of determined optimism within the struggle for survival, and it has not been a stage on which losers tell their stories. Above all else, however, the West suggests a theme of tensions between value systems, tensions that blur the distinctions between right and wrong, good and evil, moral and innnoral. The idea of a frontier nec- essarily delineates a tension between the wilderness on the one hand and civilization on the other, between West and East. What Jay Gurian has called "the circular, coIIIIID..l.Ilitarian and non-progressive Indian world- view" contrasts sharply with what Don Berry terms the "Roman road-build- ing" world-view of white society. 28 Within the white society itself, tension radiated between individual freedom and social . responsibility, which brings us back to Don D. Walker's ideas on law in the West, and in turn back to The Virginian. In connnenting on this tension in the West, Wallace Stegner has writ- ten that "done in almost diagrammatic mythic terms, or done as realistic fiction, it is as inextricable from western writing as the theme of color 28Jay Gurian, Western American Writing: Tradition and Promise (Deland, Fla,, 1975), p. 128; Doug Sbaeffer,Interview with Don Berry, 1974 (cassette); see also Gordon Dodds, "Man and Nature in the Oregon Country: A Historical Survey," The Western Shore, ed. Thomas Vaughn (Portland, 1975), pp. 343-4. 14 is inextricable from the literature of the South. 1129 But what has tra- ditionally been missing from western writing is a serious attempt to investigate the problems inherent in that tension, to examine what Robert Heilman calls the "moral doubleness" or ambiguity which arises from the conflicting moral, legal, and cultural attitudes in the West. 30 Owen Wister raised the subject but did not really coIIE to grips with the prob- lem. He drew out little or no anguish on the part of his characters and he saw no tragedy in the acceptance of lynch law. He failed to recognize the implications of the questions he had raised, and because of this fail- ure, The Virginian did not make the bold step into literature; rather it gave rise to one of the strongest fornD.llas in the Western tradition, the use of an outlaw or extra-legal means to accomplish good. The forJIIllla was not upset until 1940 when .Walter Van Tilburg Clark wrote The Oxbow Incident. Clark presented the dilemma of moral ambigui- ties and the problem of conflicting value systems in the West. He defined sharply the tension inherent in the interface between civiliza- tion and nature by pointing out that obedience to one form of law often brought about the tragic consequences of violating a different code of law. In rejecting the usual themes of progress and success, Clark dis- covered tragedy in the West, a quality previously all but ignored in western writing. Success and achievement have always been the keynotes of western 29 wallace Stegner, "History, Myth and the Western Writer," The American West, IV (May 1967), p. 77. 30Robert Heilman, "The Western Theme," Northwest Review, IV (Fall/ Winter 1960), p. 10. 15 fiction, and there has been what Robert Heilman notes "an excess of triumph. 1131 He postulates that "western materials are simply defective in the tragic component, that they are too exclusively a melodrama of victory." Heilman goes on to say that there has been "no all-encompass- ing tension and destruction and fight for physical and moral survival. 1132 Yet beginning with Clark's The Oxbow Incident, western writers have increasingly turned to examine the human struggle with human problems. Writers have begun to reject the narrow heritage of unqualified success and progress and to probe instead the vagaries and conflicting passions of human endeavor. As Neal Lambert writes, western literature must focus on the essential theme of "man alone or in small groups working out the problems of his own humanity in the context of a landscape that is vast, unsettled, and uncivilized. 1133 Heilman, too, claims that western authors must seek out the tragic human errors inherent in the western experience in order to develop literature and art; they must develop an awareness not only of the victory, but of the cost of the victory, or of the failure in apparent victory; of the ambiguities of earning and learning; of the moral hazard, of the moral doubleness; of the oblique motive or the evil deed in the very fabric of pure intent, the struggle, the strenuous search.34 Traditionally western fiction has recognized only physical losses as tragic, the loss of crops, cabins, livestock, or family. All but ignored have been the losses of indigenous cultures and alternative 31Levi S. Peterson, "Tragedy and Western American Literature," Western American Literature, VI (1971 ), p. 243; Heilman, p. 9. 32H ·1 9 10 e1 man, pp. - . 33 Lambert, p. 29 . 34H · 1 10 e1 man, p. . 16 world-views; rarely mentioned is the loss in human spirit in the clash between the wilderness and civilization. New Westerns Imlst question the qua._l~ty of the civilization which supplanted the wilderness and do so in the light of the native structures that were superseded. New Westerns must assess whether the change brought progress, and they Imlst make a judgement whether the arrival of civilization was good or evii. 35 New Westerns tm1st impose a moral force on the western experience, rather than just chronicle the action or perpetuate the romantic stereotypes. In so doing, New Westerns can probe the ambiguity, the tension, of the western experience and arrive at an assessment of the self-contradictory ideals associated with the West of the imagination. The elements of tragedy tm1st necessarily be tied to the questions such an assessment requires. Frederick Jackson Turner's frontier thesis may have fallen into disrepute among most historians, but tm1ch of what he saw in the American frontier is inseparable from the traditions of the West, and thus it remains fecund material for literature. Wallace Stegner is certainly reacting to Turner's frontier characteristics when he writes of his "sad- ness at what our civilization does to the natural, free, and beautiful, to the noble, the self-reliant, the brave.1136 Yet the freedom, independ- ence, and self-reliance that Stegner sees as having been destroyed were themselves at odds with the corrnmmitarian, non-linear world-view of the Indian and the wilderness. But more important for western literature, those qualities mourned by Stegner were also at odds with the social 35 . James K. Folsom, The American Western Novel (New Haven, 1966), pp. 31, 155; Gurian, pp. 130, 9; Dodds, p. 362. 36 Stegner, "History, Myth," p. 77; Stegner, Sound, p. 147; Gurian, p. 120. 17 values of the civilization that moved in behind the pioneers. Yet Ameri- cans tend to affirm at the same time the traditions of individualism and the traditions of democratic settlement, both of which grow out of the western experience. 37 What a New Western novelist Im.1st do is explore the nature of the contradictions in the traditions of the West, while at the same time the novelist Im.1st use those very traditions as his mater- ial. John Milton claims that one of the primary problems western liter- ature has had in the past is the fact that "because the West is relatively new in terms of culture and social organization, the novelist Im.1st in a sense create or locate the traditions he wishes to use, and he Im.1st do so 38 at the very same time that he uses them." In doing so, the novelist Im.1st take care that the identification of a tradition does not overshadow the evaluation of the tradition. The New Western Im.1st not only recreate the West, but also come to terms with it. In his critique of the New Western, The Return of the Vanishing American, Leslie Fiedler maintains that the West Im.1st symbolize a move- ment toward the future, and it Im.1st therefore reflect renewal not nostal- gia, rebirth not re-creation. He concludes that. hallucinating is the opposite of remembering, so New Westerns Im.1st move into mind-expansion 39 and madhouses. This argument ignores a major body of tradition in the West, namely: the constant attempts to escape constraints of society, to press into a primitive environment, to return to an individual relation- ship with nature, in essence to re-create the pre-civilized past. To 37Folsom, p. 136; Gurian, pp. 5-6; Lambert, p. 31. 38Milton, "The Novel in the American West," p. 78. 39Fiedler, pp. 175-7, 18 reject this tradition of the West is to fail to grasp the total signifi- cance of the West, especially in its relevance to New Westerns. In what Jay -Gurian calls a "post-civilized't state of mind, contemporary society is able to view nature and wilderness without an overwhelming need to conquer it, thus we are in a position to assess the true effects of the wilderness in the western experience. Novelists can go back to the val- ues perceived to be Indian, and therefore in tune with nature, and use those values to illuminate the progress or lack thereof in modern civil- . t· 40 1za ion. Iri the West re-creation becomes identified with rebirth and cannot be neatly separated as Fiedler suggests. Both are integral to the tension inherent in the western experience. The New Western is not Fiedler's hallucination; it is more than Folsom's search along the landscape of the soul; it is more than Etulain's good characterization within a western setting; it is more than Stegner's return to heroic virtues; it is more than Gurian's probe of today's moral decay in terms of the old West; and it is more than Lee's first-hand experience. All of these critics shed light on the New Western, but each fails to come to terms with the historical nature of the New Western. 41 The role of the western novelist becomes the role of the histori- cal novelist. Because western literature is young, and because western traditions are often contradictory or poorly defined, the western novel- ist finds it necessary to explore the past to find patterns for the 40 . Gurian, p. ix; Folsom, p. 158. 41Fiedler, p. 177; Folsom, p. 32; Richard W. Etulain, "The New Novel,n Idaho Yesterdays, 15 (Winter 1972), p. 12; Stegner, "History, Myth, rt p. 78; Gurian, p. 130; Lee, p. 156. 19 present and traditions for literatur e. The novelist IID.lst attempt to bring western materials under control and find the form inherent in those materials, rather than impose a form (or forililllas) from without. Such a task is historical in its very nature; it Ilillst study the past to find form and tradition and to illuminate the impact of the past on the pres- ent. Thus Vardis Fisher approached his western materials by asking what 42 part of today is yesterday. Wallace Stegner calls for a search of the past for a continuity with the present. Such a course is necessary because the real western past "has been mythicized almost out of recog- nizability" and the real western present seems "cut-off and pointless , 1143 The New Western novel, then, IID.lst carry the burden of identifying the traditions of the western experience as well as the burden of using those traditions to forge a western literature. In the process the novel IID.lst evaluate the contradictory nature of those traditions and dis- card the romantic, devitalized, and stereotyped notions that have hereto- fore rigidly isolated the western experience from serious scrutiny. Like any good regional writing, New Western novels IID.lst spring from within the region and IIIllst reflect its uniqueness, yet they IID.lst also embody a strand of universality beyond the region, The plots, the scenes, and even the characters IIIllst be regionally authentic, but the passions, the probing into humanity's foibles, and the moral dilennnas IIIllst transcend the region. Great literature is regional literature before it is 42vardis Fisher, "The Novelist and his Background," .Western Folk- lore, 12 (January 1953), p. 4. 43 · Stegner, "History, Myth," p. 79. ~ ~1 IJj :·:l "' IA . al 44 un1vers . Commenting on regional ism, T. Frank Dobie writes that writers Imlst "always be listening to the rhythms of their living places" but- regionalism is actually only a framework on which to hang universal 45 truths. Joseph B. Harrison and Joseph K. Howard shared the same view- 20 point at the Conference of Writers on the Northwest held at Reed College in 1947. Harrison advised that regionalism may provide an author a com- fortable setting, but it "IIn.1st manifest its place in the scheme of things entire." Howard connnented that "the true concept of regionalism encom- passes study of ~ne's neighbors, the physical features of one's environ- ment, and the area's historical tradition, with intent to make a worth- while intellectual contribution to the welfare of the nation or the 46 world." Since New Westerns, insofar as they aspire to be called literature as they do, Imlst probe the themes and traditions of the western experi- ence, it follows that New Westerns will be predominantly historical, for the literary materials spring from the historical, regional past. Because of this, New Westerns are of interest to historians seeking new ways to interpret the West. A problem arises for the historian concerning the use to which historical literature may be put. Is there a place for 44Milton, "The Novel in the American West," p. 78; Charles Caldwell Dobie, "Literature on the Pacific Coast," American Writers on American Literature, ed. John Macy (New York, 1934), p. 414. 45T. Frank Dobie, "The Writer and his Region," Southwest Review, 59 (1974), p. 428. 46Joseph B. Harrison, "Regionalism is not enough," Northwest Harvest: A Regional Stocktaking, ed. V. L. 0. Chittick (New York, 1948), p. 147; Joseph K. Howard, "Culture, Climate, and Corrnm.mity," Northwest Harvest p. 119. ~ "'l ,11 :~' "'l .. 1 21 historical fiction, and in particul ar western historical fiction, in the study of history? Should the historian reject historical fiction as too subjective for the study of objective history or can the thoughts and emotions distilled from history by fiction have a value that reaches beyond subjectivity? If the historical novel does have a place in the study of history, on what basis should it be judged by the historian? Factual content? Thematic purpose? Literary merit? Ideally all three, for as Wallace Stegner says, "The trick lfor the historical novelis.:!} is to make the twin cutting tools of sound research and a sense of the dra- matic work together like scissors blades. ,.47 · The drama m1st flow from the documents themselves, an all too rare occurrence in the writings of historians. One critic maintained that "academic historians ... con- ceive it to be their duty to relate minutely exactly what occurred, not 48 to make judgements of value." In other words, historians spoil a good story. The critic went on to say that the historical novelist "IIIl.lst give a true picture of the mind of the past, besides an accurate record of 49 public events." A. B. Guthrie claims to seek his universal truths in the history itself and to recreate the historical problems in a fictional setting.so Thus it would seem fair to judge the merits of historical 47 wallace Stegner, "On the Writing of History," Western Writing, ed. Gerald W. Haslam (Albuquerque, 1974), p. 26. 4811Fictional History," Times Literary Supplement, Nov. 3, 1961, p.789. 49Ibid. SO A. B. Guthrie, "The Historical Novel," Western Writings, ed. Gerald W. Haslam (Albuquerque, 1974), pp. 57-8. fiction on the accuracy of its reflection of the factual record and the veracity with which it elicits the themes and traditions of history. 22 Historical fiction Im1st do more than that, however, for competently written history records facts, themes, and traditions . . The novelist IIlllst go beyond the actions and memoirs of the period of his setting; he IIlllst retrieve the emotions and passions, the sensations felt by the characters in response to the environment and actions. The author needs to create characters that are full, individual, and believable, and through them he needs to construct a morally sound and aesthetically pleasing work of art. 51 The historical novelist can neglect neither the literary nor the historical aspects of his craft. Helen Cam has called for exacting standards to judge the historical novel, writing "it may be a hybrid ... but we are surely entitled to demand that a historical novel be both good literature and good history. 115 2 The place of historic literature, that is, the literature produced during the period Wlder study, is assured in the study of history, for it is a part of that historical period as IIlllch as any legal or economic fact. Historical fiction however is the product of a later period, viewing the past from a distance. Since its primary purpose is to perform a literary · 53 function, it produces a portrait of the past rather than a photograph. It is for this very reason that many historians reject historical fiction 51 . Jackson K. Putnam, "Down to Earth: A. B. Guthrie's Quest for Moral and Historical Truth," Essays on Western History, ed. Robert P. Wilkins (Grand Forks, 1970), p. 61. 52Helen Cam, Historical Novels (London, 1961), p. 295. 5 ~elson M. Blake, Novelists' America: Fiction as History (Syracuse, 1969), p. 4. 23 in the study of history; but to do so is to reject a valuable probe into the past, for as Thoreau accurately points out, "when out of history the truth shall be extracted, it will have shed its dates like withered leaves. 1154 The purpose of historical fiction is to evoke the past to reveal a truth about humanity or a truth about ourselves. The novelist uses history as a tool, and he should not be bound tightly to the writ- ten record. On the other hand, he Illllst be bound tightly to the traditions of the past, to the emotions of the past, to the 'feelings' of the past, The novelist Illllst operate within the constraints of the historical setting and the historical pattern he has chosen, but he is also charged to pro- duce a literary fiction. The novelist is not bound completely by the facts, but should he ignore or twist the historical record too Illllch, he will lose the illusion of history and with it the experience of the moment. The historical novelist who is successful in his efforts will create a believable past with believable characters, and he will promote an under- . standing of the human and historical experience. 55 If the historical novelist succeeds, his work has a definite place in the study of history, not to learn about the facts of a given period but to learn about the spirit, the traditions, and the human experience of that period. 54Henry David Thoreau, Week on the Merrimac and Concord Rivers, cited in Fiedler, p. 114. 55Hervey Allen, "History and the Novel," Atlantic Monthly (Feb. 1944), pp. 119-20; Lambert, pp. 29-30; Blake, pp. 111, 262; Don D. Walker, "The Western Explorer as Literary Hero," Western Humanities Review, XXIX (Sunnner 1975), p. 247. 24 II. DON BERRY AND TRASK One of the best of the 'New Western' novelists is Don Berry, a writer of the Northwest whose three historical novels Trask (1960), Moontrap (1962), and To Build a Ship (1963), probe the traditions, spirit, and experience of early Oregon. Although Berry limits his plots to the Northwest, his novels are actually IIll.lCh broader in scope, encompassing ideas more generally associated with the West as a whole. The themes of movement, struggle, and tension; the impact of the environment on man and man on the land; the clash of value systems and ideas of law; the defini- tion and use of historical traditions; all are a part of the 'New Western' and all are a part of Berry's novels. At the same time, however, the novels all emerge from the rhythms of the Northwest, IID.1.ch the way A. B. Guthrie's works derive out of the broad landscape of Montana. As a group, Berry's three novels Imlst be considered among the best yet produced in the literary tradition of the West, standing among or above the works of H. L. Davis, A. B. Guthrie, Wallace Stegner, Paul Horgan, Vardis Fisher, or Walter Van Tilburg Clark. Berry's novels arise from local history to emerge as successful literature, grappling with the problem of man's place in the universe while retaining contact with their earthy origins. Don Berry was born in Redwood Falls, Minnesota, in 1932, and grew up travelling around the country with his Illl.lsician parents. At the age of 15, he embarked on a literary apprenticeship by writing science fiction under a pseudonym, selling his first story after 144 rejections. Although never garnering any formal training in history, he became intrigued with ~ ~ ( 0 I I I j 25 it after reading a research paper by historian Dorothy Johansen concerning the Tillamook Indian land claims. She described an incident involving Elbridge Trask and said nobody had ever been able to explain why he had acted as he had; Berry recalled his reaction later: "I thought, well I know why he did that. That's what I would have done. That mom.en t, which I didn't recognize at the time, but that moment was the first time that I ever realized that history ... had a bunch of guys like me that had done something that somebody had written down. 1156 Four books gre_w out of Berry's involvement in historical writing, the three novels and an informal but well-researched history of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, A Majority of Scoundrels (1961). A fourth novel, a sequel to Trask in an intended trilogy, was withdrawn from the publisher and destroyed by Berry. In all his novels, Berry managed to grasp the flavor of the historical period in question and to breathe life into the characters he either created or used. In the process of so doing, Berry adapted the historical record to his own purposes to some extent. Like all of the 'New Western' novelists, Berry has more than just a story to tell, yet he has the obligation of all writers to research and present accurately the themes, traditions, and events around which his story is woven. In writing historical fiction, an author can more easily control the descriptive background of the story, and, with it, the state of the reader's mind. In a contemporary novel, the reader can identify himself with the situation, and thus confound the thoughts the author is trying to present. In a historical setting, the author can remove the 56 Doug Shaeffer, "Interview with Don Berry," (Spring, 1974); bio- graphical information from Glen Love, "Interview with Don Berry, 11· (May, 1977). 26 story from the everyday experience of the reader, and thus concentrate the reader's attention on what is written. As Berry told one interviewer, ad 1 h 1157 "Trask never h a c utc go out. A historical setting removes the reader from his own reality and focuses his attention on the human events in the story as presented by the writer. The success of such a mechanism depends upon the accuracy with which the author portrays the past, for if the author distorts the setting or makes errors in portrayals of histori- cal characters, the reader's attention may be diverted, or, worse, the reader may reject the novel out of hand. Thus, the historical novelist must research the arena in which he will work in order to be able to cre- ate the setting without making the reader uncomfortable about its accuracy, At the same time, however, the novelist is presenting a pattern of events that are important to his message, events that are not necessarily historical in nature, The characters, with their accompanying thoughts, emotions, and actions, are fictional, as is the plot of the novel in most cases. Yet the characters must square with the historical record, as well as the literary function they perform. The situation calls for the use of history within the framework of literature, as well as the use of litera- ture within the confines of history. Such a situation lays open the potential for abuse of history instead of the careful use of it. A novelist may succeed in a literary sense, but he may do so at the expense of historical accuracy. If such is the case, if the novelist has abused the historical record--whether it be by warping events to fit the story to such an extent as to distort 57 Shaeffer "Interview." 27 seriously "wie es eigentlich gewesen," or whether it be by recasting the motives, thoughts, and actions of an actual historical person in such a manner as to render that person incompatible with his historical counter- part--then the novel Im.1st as surely fail as historical fiction and, more generally, as literature. The historical novelist Im.1st succeed twice, in history and in literature, in order to produce a single successful historical novel. A 'New Western' novelist Im.1st strive to control an accurate his- torical setting, create plausible and timely characters, and probe the · traditions, emotions, and patterns of the past. If he is successful, the result will provide regional authenticity and universal connnent on the human condition. By accurately identifying the western traditions, and then by coming to terms with them through probing their moral ambiguities, the 'New Western' novelist provides insight into the growth and progress, or lack thereof, of western man. In his novels, Don Berry investigates the tergiversations of social and cultural laws in settings where two cultures or societies are in con- flict. Although each novel is a very personal exploration of his own soul, Berry also provides insight into the traditions of the past, whether real or ieythical. At all times Berry is conscious of the costs of change, of progress, of victory, as the Northwest was opened to white settlement. His novels are both a celebration of the human spirit and a conderrmation of the restraints placed on that .spirit by society. He ponders the values of Frederick Jackson Turner's American character traits within the settings of cultural and social conflict: Indian and white, frontiersman and set- tler; independence and social responsibility, self-reliance and comrrnmity 28 interdependence. The problem for the historian is to evaluate the 'New Western' novels to determine whether the author has performed a service or disser- vice in identifying the forces and events that produce historical and literary traditions. Has Don Berry used or abused the historical record in developing his novels? Do the fictional characters evolve from an accurate sense of the period? Do the historical characters, appearing in fictional form, reflect their counterparts in history? If deviations from the record do in fact arise, are they serious enough to undermine the validity of the judgements Berry makes, or can his novelistic analysis of the western experience be sufficiently accurate and useful despite changes in the historical materials? These questions are central to the value of historical fiction in the study of history. Departures from objective factual information, such as dates, may not significantly alter the value of a novel, whereas an inaccurate portrayal of a historical character or an erroneous depiction of an ambient mood may do irreparable damage to the reliability of the novelist's analysis. While Elbridge Trask may be relieved of his children, while Dr. John McLaughlin's house may be located incorrectly, and while the isolation of Tillamook Bay may be overstated, do these alterations in fact impugn the validity qf Berry's probe into the Northwest's heritage? On the other hand, subjective judgements concerning moods, motives, and emotions of the past are vital parts of the fictional approach to history, and novelists IIll.lst certainly retain the freedom to interpret history in their own way. Should not these interpretations be in accordance with recorded events, however, and if they are not, what is the effect on the novel's historical validity? Don Berry connnented at one 29 time concerning Trask that he "made whatever departures from history best suited my purposes."58 Berry considers history to be a tool for his writ- ing, as a structure for a coherent idea, not as an absolute chiseled in stone. To the extent that history is objective, it is useful for control- ling the scene of action; but to the extent that history is subjective, Berry sees the novelist's interpretation as no less valid than the his- torian's. He uses his writing like a "focusing lens" to burn away the surface of the past to reveal the "meaning of the experience that lies behind." I don't worry an awful lot about .deviation from history unless dealing with actual facts, because history itself is the fiction that historians write. They too look at the data and look at the facts, but they invent their own picture because there is nothing else they can do. 59 Yet care IIIllst be taken that the departures and deviations do not distort the time and place of which the author writes. Do the departures in Trask suit the purposes of historical interpretation as well as they suit Berry's literary interpretation? Don Berry's first novel is perhaps his most successful novel from the point of view of historical fiction, for Trask presents a situation and series of events that are highly plausible. Berry has provided an excellent recreation of the setting of the Oregon coast and of the settle- ment on the Clatsop Plains. Beyond this, however, Berry has also drawn heavily on Indian traditions and folklore. In the process, he has pre- sented various thematic aspects of the West, probing and evaluating the 58 Don Berry, "Cormnent by the Author," Saturday Review (March 5, 1960), p. 17. 59 Shaeffer, "Interview." 30 merits and demerits of the western experience: . the restless impulse, the personal struggle against the elements and the unlmown, and the tense clash between the encroaching white civilization and the native cultures. Yet Trask succeeds equally as an adventure story and as a personal search for one's identity. It is as a historical novel set in the West, however, that it draws the attention of historians. From the very first page of the novel, Don Berry establishes in the reader's mind that this is no bit of fluff, but rather that it is a part of the historical record. Using an excerpt from the journal of a well- known mountain man turned settler, Berry sets up his plot. Drawn "from the later journals of Osborne Russell, 1845-1857," the excerpt indicates that there is some "Dam Fool 11· of a white man has got himself into trouble with the Killamooks down at the coast, which have a prety hard reputation. And who shd it turn out to be but my old Comrade Elbridge Trask that I free-trapped with out of Fort Hall. Well I am not surprised any but hope he does not get himself killd which wd be Just like him. He was the most restless man I ever knew .... 0 Elbridge Trask is restless and vaguely uncomfortable with his situ- ation on Clatsop Plains in the Spring of 1848. Unable to explain to his wife Hannah exactly how he feels, he decides to pay a call on his old friend Solomon Smith who lives with his Clatsop wife, Celiast, near the village of Neahcoxie. Almost unconsciously he asks Smith what he knows of Murderer's Harbor, which is SO miles to the south along the coast. Smith tells him that it lies in Killam.oak country, and the Killamooks and 60 Don Berry, Trask (New York, 1960); for convenience, all page citations will be included in the text and refer to the Comstock Edition (Sausalito, California, 1969). 31 the Clatsops do not see eye to eye. In fact the Killamooks seem not to see eye to eye with many people, for Smith tells Trask that he walked mighty carefully some years back when he was through the area. Celiast recalls the story of Captain Robert Gray's crewmember being killed when his ship put into the bay, giving the area its threatening name, and she adds that the tyee is not favorable to the idea of whites coming down to settle in his country. Furthermore the trail, if it could be called a trail at all, IIIl.lst cross Neahkahnie, a huge hump-backed mountain that juts out into the ocean. Smith tells Trask, "Bridge, there are places you have to cross on that mountain where the trail is no wider than a man's two hands. Tilted like a roof, sliding shale--and if you slip it's five hundred damn feet straight down into the sea." If that were not enough, Neahkahnie is thought by the Indians to be the body of the god Kahnie turned to stone, and it serves as the dividing line between the Clatsops and the Killamooks; either of which facts would make most if not all Clatsops refuse to guide Trask down to Murderer's Harbor. Trask is determined to scout the country, however, and within a few days he starts south, guided by Charley Kehwa, the tamanawis man or shaman of the Clatsop Indians, whose spiritual powers discomfort Trask. Accompanying them are Wakila and Doctor McLaughlin; the former a young Clatsop ravaged by the vices of two cultures and without the benefits of either, and the latter a hip-shot mountain pony that proves surprisingly nimble, Progress down the coast is agonizingly slow, for they have to cut their own trail through the dense growth of briar and salal as they cross a series of headlands. A bond develops between Trask and Charley as they begin to respect each other, and Wakila gains a sense of self- respect as he is given responsibility by Trask. But Neahkahnie, home of 32 the fire spirit Kahnie who created the waves by throwing red-hot rocks into the ocean, Neahkahnie proves to be a formidable obstacle. As Wakila gingerly leads the horse along the edge of a gravelly precipice, Doctor slips and pulls the youth to his death on the rocks below. At Charley Kehwa's request, Trask joins the medicine man's grief by cutting off his own forelock for Him-who-died. The two now proceed down the south side of Neahkahnie to a small village of the Nehalems, the northernmost band of the Killamooks. There they receive a cool welcome from the leader, who engages Trask in a com- petitive potlatch, attempting to humiliate the white man before the gath- ered band. Through the cleverness of Charley Kehwa, Trask emerges triumphant. Their safe exit is assured when Charley reveals that he is a tamanawis man and threatens to shrivel the manhood of any who would harm them. Camping along the beach just north of Murderer's Harbor, Trask and Charley are captured and escorted into the main village of the Killamooks. The principle tyee, rumored to be a black man, is not present, but the lineal chief, Illga, tries to enlist their aid in overthrowing his rival. Preferring to wait and deal with Kilchis, Trask declines Illga's offer, thereby engendering the Indian's deep hatred. When Kilchis returns from a trip to the Nestucca area where he had been sunnnoned to settle a dispute, he negotiates with Trask concerning the latter's desire to settle in the bay. Trask manages to convince Kilchis that a gradual controlled settlement is preferable to war with the whites, but when the plan is presented to the council, Illga steps forward. The Killamooks should not treat with Trask, for he is not a man; 33 he has not gone on the Searching for a guardian spirit, without which no one is a man. Against the advice of Charley Kehwa, Trask agrees to under- take the Searching, despite the fact that it is early in the year and he has had no preparation for it. Armed with a torch and blanket, Trask strides off into the moun- tains, there to remain, fasting, until he perishes or receives the power of a Vision. After incredible hardship, he hears a person approaching. He assumes it is Illga or a cohort, for Charley had warned him that the vengeful Killamook might try to kill him on the Searching. Trask hides, then lunges at the dark figure, thrusting a rude spear through the small body, only to discover it is Charley coming to help him. In a delirious state and weak from injury and hunger, Trask manages to carry the Clatsop back to the Killamook village, urged on by the voice of the dead tamanawis man. Trask's absence of fear of death and dead men demonstrates to the Killamooks a powerful Vision, and a strong spirit helper. The novel closes as Trask recognizes his unity with the world around him and rejects the rapacious lust for possession of the land that had driven him to Mur- .derer's Harbor to begin with. III. HISTORICAL B<\CKGROUND From the outset, Trask seems to be a filled out version of an actual historical story. In a connnent accompanying a review of the book in Saturday Review, Berry claimed to have fleshed out the connective tissue between isolated and seemingly unrelated bits of information, _ in a manner reminiscent of what Washington Irving used to call adding 'fil- l • I 61 1gree. The characters not only ring true, but most are based on actual persons; anyone with a working lmowledge of Oregon history ma.y easily recognize Solomon Smith, the former teacher at Fort Vancouver, 34 with his wife Celiast; Trask himself filed one of the first claims in Tillamook Bay and appeared, albeit somewhat briefly, in Osborne Russell's journal of his trapping days; Kilchis and Illga were the two chiefs of the Killamooks when the whites began to settle the area, and Kilchis was an enormous black man; the settlement of Tillamook Bay was a peaceful and reasonably orderly one; and the Killamook Indians had enjoyed a "hard rep- utation"· from when Lopeus of Captain Gray's crew had been killed at their hands in 1788. Given the outline in history, the novelist need only heighten the drama, draw out the characterizations, recreate an authentic setting, and Trask would be complete, The only question that might arise for the reader would be how likely it is that Trask would have gone down to scout out the country a full four years before he actually moved down to file a claim. But Berry supplies Osborne Russell's words in his 61 Berry, "Comment,'.' p. 17; see also Pierre Irving (ed.), The Life and Letters of Washington Irving, vol. II, p. 302, cited in Lee, p. 68. 35 journals to assure the reader that Trask was inde~d in the area. To create an effective historical novel, an author IID.lst convey the reader to the historic period of the setting, not just through recreating the physical surroundings (although this is important) but also through attaching the plot to actual events, movements, and people of the period. One of the most important bits of information in anchoring Trask to the frame of history, and thus affirming possibility and plausibility of the plot for the reader, is the April 29, 1848 journal entry of Osborne Russell establishing that Elbridge Trask was indeed among the Killamooks. With a unique flair Don Berry has created an illusion with an illu- sion: the journal entry is a fake. No "later journals of Osborne Russell, 1845-1857" exist. 62 Certainly Berry uses other historical pegs on which to hang the story, but the fabricated journal entry somehow seems to set the tone for the reader, a quiet reminder that Berry may be telling the truth and that the reader should ponder the implications of this probe into the past. Don Berry did not fabricate everything in his book, however, rather he used factual material extensively. For the most part, the characters in the book are based on real persons, with the noteworthy exception of Charley Kehwa, a fitting exception since his role -is more of a spiritual 6 ~ot only are there no later journals, Osborne Russell was not in the Yamhill District in April, 1848. He .was on his claim at the Luckiamute Falls in Polk County, where he signed a power of attorney to James Neall to sell his first journal to a publisher back East. Don Berry confirmed his fabrication of the entry in a letter to Dr. Glen Love, University of Oregon, in July, 1977. See E. Ruth Rockwood, "Diary of Rev. George H. Atkinson, D. D., 1847-1858, rt Oregon Historical Quarterly, XL (1939), p. 350; Ja.n:Es Neall, A Downeaster in the Far West, ed. Martin Schmitt and K. Keith Richard, (Ashland, 1977), pp. 32, 39-40. one than any other. Several of the events· are drawn from diaries and reminiscences of pioneers on the coast. The setting on the Clatsop Plains is well based on fact. Most of all, Berry has researched thor- oughly his material on the culture of the coast Indians. The customs, beliefs, and viewpoints of the Indians in Trask are, with a few small exceptions, accurate portrayals of historical and anthropological evi- dence of those cultures. 36 Like his fictional counterpart, Elbridge Trask was a thirty-three year old transplanted New Englander, having been born in Beverly, Massa- 63 chusetts, on July 15, 1815. In 1833 he signed on as a sailor with Cap- tain Lambert of the "May Dacre" and arrived in the Columbia River in September, 1834. After a trip to the Sandwich Islands that winter and a summer doing odd jobs around Fort William, Trask joined Nathaniel Wyeth's Columbia River Fishing and Trading Company on September 30, 1835, as a trapper for the wages of sixteen dollars a month. 64 · On his way back East to pursue a more profitable line of work, Wyeth released all his trappers from their contracts in the surmner of 1836. 65 Trask became a free trapper, generally working out of the Fort Hall area. By 1838 he had joined up with Osborne Russell, and the two were more or less constant companions until they left the fur trade four years 63 Osborne Russell, Journal of a Trapper, ed. Aubrey L. Haines, (Portland, 1955), p. 96; Genealogical Forum, Genealogical Material in Oregon Land Claims Abstracted from Applications (Portland, 1957), vol. II, p. 73. 64Richard G. Beidleman, "Nathaniel Wyeth's Fort Hall," Oregon His- torical Quarterly, LVIII (1959), p. 237n . . 65H· h" Th ( iram M. C 1ttenden, e American Fur Trade of the Far West New York, 1935), vol. I, p. 452. 37 later. Russell described Trask as "being bred a sailor" and therefore •tnot IIlllch of a landsman, woodsman or hunter. 1166 When Trask became sepa- rated from Russell and two o~her trappers during a Blackfoot attack in August, 1839, they were unable to locate him, so they proceeded to Fort Hall without him. Despite a serious arrow wound in the right leg and hip, Russell managed to get to Fort Hall in seven days without horses or, for the most part, food. Xrask, uninjured, did not show up for another nine days, having wandered lost until he happened upon a recent trail which pointed out the direction of the fort. 67 The next year Russell commented on Trask's judgement, or lack thereof, when Trask wanted to go buffalo hunting; Russell vetoed the idea because the horses were far too weak for such a strenuous activity. 68 On another occasion shortly after the Blackfoot attack, Russell declined to accompany Trask on a trip up to the Yellowstone Mountains, saying that he intended to trap "with a party who would not leave me . in a 'pinch.' 11 ·69 Despite Russell's misgiv- ings about Trask's abilities in the woods, however, the two men stayed together for the most part. By November of 1841, over a year after the last Rendezvous, Russell was able to see the approaching end of the fur trade. As he put his jour- nal into order for publication later and looked back on that autUillll, he wrote 66 Russell, p. 98. 67Ibid., pp. 103-9. 68Ibid. , p. 111. 69Ibid. In the year 1836 large bands of buffalo could be seen in almost every little valley on the small branches of this stream. At this time the only traces of them which could be seen were the scattered bones of those which had been killed. Their deeply indented trails which had been made in former years were overgrown with grass and weeds. The trappers often remarked to each other as they rode over these lonely plains that it was time for the white man to leave the mountains, as beaver and game had nearly disappeared.70 38 The following summer, Russell, Trask, and a few other trappers decided to say quits to the fur trade. Some like Alfred Shutes went back East to their original homes; others like Russell and Trask determined to start new lives in a new country, and headed west to the Willamette · Valley. On August 22nd Trask left Fort Hall with Russell in the company fEl .. ahWh. and :al . tf ·1· 71 I ldd. th o · 1J 1te sever. enugran ami 1es. nc u e 1n e group were William T. Perry, his wife Ann, and her widowed sister, Hannah Abel. Hannah had left two small daughters with relatives in Indiana but had brought along her most recent child, Rosaltha. 72 Proceeding from Fort Hall the group attached itself to a Hudson' s Bay brigade and moved on ahead of the remainder of emigrants. Earlier in the trip White had become somewhat of a persona .!!.Q!l grata for the manner in which he directed the operation, and undoubtedly he wished to arrive 70Ibid., p. 124. 71Ibid., p. 125. · 72Bethenia Owens-Adair, Some of her Life Experiences (Portland, 1921), p. 234; Genealogical Material, vol. II, p. 73, vol. III, p. 12. Rosaltha had been born 22 July 1841 and the other two children were Sarah (b. 11 April 1838) and Elizabeth (b. 4 January 1840); see Elizabeth Vaughn Landis MS, Trask File, Tillamook County Pioneer Museum (n.d., n.p.). 39 in Oregon ahead of his detractors. 73 Shortly a£ter the group reached Oregon City and a£ter what Illl.lst have been an unusual courtship, Elbridge Trask married Hannah Abel on October 20, 1842. The new Trask family wintered in Oregon City with the Perrys in a hastily constructed house. 74 In the spring of 1843 Trask moved his family to Clatsop Plains, along with the Perrys, the Thomas Owens family, Henry Hunt, Ben Wood, and N. A. Ebennan, the latter three being interested in constructing a sawmill on the Plains. 75 Trask hired on to help build the mill, and two years later he was involved in the construction of a grist mill on Ohanna Creek along with Perry, Owens, and Calvin Tibbetts, a former Wyeth man who had come overland in 1832. 76 During 1844, Trask engaged himself to work on a county road along the crest of the dunes bordering Clatsop Plains on the 77 west. By 1846 Trask had been hired by the Hudson's Bay Company to till up some lands for planting, but as Alexander Lattie noted in his journal 73 F. G, Young, ed., Journal of Medorem Crawford (Eugene, 1897), p. 16; see also Elijah White, Ten Years in Oregon: Travels and Adventures of Doctor E. White and Lady West of the Rocky Mountains (Ithaca, N, Y., 1848), pp. 145-68, parti~ularly, pp. 162-4 . . 74Genealogical Material, vol. II, p. 73; Owens-Adair, p. 234; Landis MS. Reportedly the two families built the first frame house in the town, using Perry's millwright skills. 7511Solomon H. Smith," Transactions of the 15th Annual Reunion of the Oregon Pioneer Association for 1887 (Portland, 1887), pp. 88-9; Jo Tuthill, "Elbridge Trask," The Mountain Man and the Fur Trade of the Far West, ed. · Leroy Ha£en (Glendale, 1972), p. 377; Owens-Adair, p. 234. 76Phillip H. Overmeyer, "Members of the First Wyeth Expedition," Oregon Historical Quarterly, XXXVI (1935), p. 101; Ennna Gene Miller, Clat- sop County, Oregon: A History, (Portland, 1958), p. 142. 77 E. Ruth Rockwood, ed., "Letters of Charles Stevens (1854)," Oregon Historical Quarterly, XXXVIII (1937), p. 81; Leslie M. Scott, "First Tax- payers ih Oregon, 1844," Oregon Historical Quarterly, XXXI (1930), p. 24. 40 he met with considerable difficulty. On March 19th Lattie wrote that Trask "unluckily broke his Plow which was by the by rather a weak one being country made." Two weeks later Trask was still at it, but Lattie noted he was "unable Lto succeeg/ from the ground being so foul and Plow being so weak and bad." To add to his troubles, in the interim his ox developed a deep sore above one hoof which hampered its effectiveness, 78 By 1848 Trask joined forces with Perry, Tibbetts, and Owens again, but this time the men built a schooner rather than a mill. With Robert McEwan as part owner and captain, the men loaded the ship with produce from Clatsop Plains, butter, bacon, eggs, and potatoes, mostly potatoes. They sold both cargo and schooner in Sacramento in July 1849 and returned to the Plains aboard the Forrest. Tibbetts died of cholera on the return t . 79 rip. Trask accompanied Nathan Dougherty and family to Tillamook Bay in the spring of 1852 on Captain Menes' brig Quadratus, one year after the 78Thomas Vaughn, ed., "Alexander Lattie's Fort George Journal, 1846," Oregon Historical Quarterly, LXIV (1963), pp. 214, 218, 219. 79Lewis and Dryden's Maxine History of the Pacific Northwest ed. E. W. Wright (Portland, 1895), p. 24; letter of Courtney Walker, 26 August 1849 cited in Caroline C. Dobbs, Men of Charnpoeg (Portland, 1932), p. 40. The data concerning the ship-building of Elbridge· Trask et. al. on Clatsop Plains is conflicting. Owens-Adair claims that the men built the schooner Pioneer in the Spring of 1848, then sailed it with Captain McEwan to San Francisco, with Tibbetts dying on the return (no date). Lewis and Dryden list no such vessel, but do mention the construction of the Skipanon by the men. According to port records, the Skipanon arrived in Sacramento in July, 1849, and Lewis and Dryden notes that the group returned aboard the Ocean Bird in August. The Walker letter states that Tibbetts died aboard the Forrest on August 11, 1849. Tuthill claims that the men returned on the Priest but she has obviously confused the ship's name with the owners, Bobb, Lee, and Priest. Lewis and Dryden lists no record of a Priest at all. All the sources state that Tibbetts was returning from the gold fields, implying that he had been there longer than the July-August span in 1849. Tuthill interprets this to mean the men all went down in 1848 and returned 41 first settler, Joe Champion, had arrived. Trask then returned to Clatsop Plains, settled his accounts, and gathered up his family, which by now included Hannah and her daughter Rosaltha, plus twin girls, two more daughters, and a son. The whole group arrived in Tillamook Bay on Aug- 80 ust 1, 1852, aboard a sloop owned by Menes. Trask filed a donation land claim of 640 acres on what is now the Trask River. 81 Trask worked on his farm for the next eleven years until his death in 1863. As one of the early settlers of the area, he was involved in the beginnings of government for Tillamook. Following the organization of the region as a .county in December 1853, Trask was elected Justice of the Peace, and he served a short period as County Cormnissioner. 82 But Trask was not lllllch of a political soul: he had passed up the opportunity to participate in the fateful meeting at Champoeg in May, 1843, although his friends Tibbetts and Russell both attended; he avoided politics in 1849, but since Hannah Trask gave birth to George on June 12, 1849, Elbridge had to have been on the Plains in September, 1848. Thus either two schooners were built or Tibbetts quit the project at the news of gold, · or both. Whatever, Trask was busy from Spring of 1848 onward. See Owens- Adair, p. 159; Tuthill, p. 378; Overmeyer, p. 101; "News and Con:n:nent," . Oregon Historical Quarterly, XXXII (1931), p. 87. 80Joe C. Champion, "A Brief Account of the Settlement of Tillamook by the First Settler," MS in Book A, Vol. I, County Court Journal (1860), Tillamook County Courthouse; Warren H. Vaughn, "Early Settlement of Tillamook County, 1851-1858," MS in University of Oregon Library, p. 14; Landis MS. Four more children were added to the Trask family, once settled in Tillamook Bay: Harriet and Martha (b. Dec. 21, 1843), Bertha (b. Sept. 23, 1845), Nancy Jane (b. July 5, 1847), George (b. June 12, 1849), Endora (b. July 24, 1853), William (b. Feb. 14, 1855), Charles (b. Jan. 28, 1857), Arvilla (b. Nov. 27, 1858). 81 . Genealogical Material, p. 73, claim 1fo3926, August 16, 1852. 82_ . · -Vaughn "Settlement," pp. 43-5; Landis MS. 42 completely on Clatsop Plains, preferring easy-going social relationships instead; and he very quickly withdrew from Tillamook politics, into which he had evidently been drawn by his chronological status and the scarcity of bodies. Trask exhibited a curiosity about nature, but he could hardly have . been called a philosopher or intellectual. When Osborne Russell experi- enced his religious enlightenment in the mountains in 1841, Trask was indifferent to his attempts at discussion of Christian principles and would not listen to the subject. 83 On the other hand, however, Trask spent an entire day and part of a night watching a geyser in the Yellow- stone River region, timing the eruptions. He was fascinated by the regularity of the spring's movements. 84 The Clatsop Plains in 1848 was a small but expanding outgrowth away from the main body of white settlement in the Willamette Valley. The Methodists had established a mission on the Plains in 1840 under the supervision of Reverend John H. Frost. Accompanying Frost to the area 85 were Solomon H. Smith and Calvin Tibbetts, both former Wyeth men. Set- tlers trickled onto the Plains following Smith and Tibbetts, and by 1848 there were between forty and fifty families settled into farming behind the rolling dunes. 86 Yet the limits of Clatsop Plains farming were 83 Rockwood, "Atkinson, 11 pp . 350-1. 84 Russell, p. 98. 85Nellie Pipes, ed., "The Journal of John H. Frost, 1840-43," Ore- gon Historical Quarterly, XXXV (1934), pp. 53, 58; "Solomon H. Smith, 11 p. 86. Frost abandoned the calling in August, 1843, and was replaced with Josiah L. Parrish until the mission was closed in 1844. 86 Rockwood, "Atkinson, 11 pp . 17 2 , 17 4; Rockwood, "Stevens , " p . 81. 43 becoming recognized, for although corn grew moderately well, and potatoes grew extremely well, the all-important crop of wheat did not flourish in the sandy soil. Since wheat, at a dollar a bushel, was the monetary stan- dard of trade among the settlers in the Oregon . country at the time, its importance to the farmers should not be underestimated. 87 Agriculture on Clatsop Plains did not wither completely, however, for California mar- kets for potatoes were becoming more plentiful--and would expand greatly after word of gold reached Oregon in August of 1848. 88 In addition to markets for staples, California provided a . growing demand for lumber. Early in 1845, Hunt's mill sent 50,000 feet of timber to California aboard the Chenanru.s. A second mill was built at the south end of the Plains, and. by 1848 large quantities of lumber were departing f A . 89 rom storia. The California gold rush accelerated this demand. By the late 1840's, however, as the white settlement was expanding, the Clatsop Indian tribe was failing rapidly, its culture and heritage supplanted by white civilization. Part of a larger group of Indians called Chinook, the Clatsops had occupied lands on the south bank of the Columbia River at its mouth, extending east to Tongue Point and south along the Pacific Ocean to Tillamook Head. Part of the greater Northwest Indian culture, the Clatsops shared many of the characteristics of the natives all along the Northwest Coast, from the Salish farther south to the Tlingit in the far north. 87For good illustrations of the use of wheat as a roonetary exchange, see Neall, pp. 50, 60, 63. 88Ibid., p. 108. 89Ruby and Brown, p. 211. The Clatsops relied heavily on salmon and other marine life as a food source, supplementing their diet with roots and berries in season 44 and occasionally an elk or other animal. They lived in plank lodges, usually with several families in each. The material culture of the Clat- sops reflected the abundance of timber in the area, and the cedar tree was used as variously and ingeniously by them as the buffalo on the open plains. Much of their travel was by canoe on the rivers and sea, although they did not customarily build the very large canoes that were more connnon 90 to the north. The population of the Clatsops prior to the arrival of the white man is open to speculation. Estimates of between 200 and 300 Clatsops in 91 1780 are generally accepted. A severe epidemic of smallpox swept the coast in the 1780's, but the population was evidently back to normal strength by the time Lewis and Clark estimated the Clatsops to number 200. 92 In 1825 an official of the Hudson's Bay Company reported a Clat- sop population of 190, including free and slave. 93 By the late 1840's, significant changes had taken place among the Clatsops. In 1851 Robert Shortess reported to Indian Agent Anson Dart 9 °For a full discussion of the Pacific Northwest Indian culture, see Philip Drucker, Indians of the Northwest Coast (Garden City, 1963). 91James Mooney, The Aboriginal Population of .America North of Mexico (Washington, 1928), pp. 13-17; Herbert C. Taylor, Jr., "Aboriginal Popula- tions of the ·Lower Northwest Coast," Washington Historical Quarterly, LIV (1963), p. 163. 92Reuben Gold Thwaites, ed., Original Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, 1804-1806 (New York, 1904), vol. VI, p. ll7n. 93Alexander Kennedy, "Report of Chief Factor Alexander Kennedy, 1824- 25," cited in Robert H. Ruby and John A. Brown, The Chinook Indians (Nor- man, 1976), p. 178. 45 that there were only 80 Clatsops, virtually all of whom were crowded into a single village on Point Adams, while previously they had occupied six widespread villages. 94 Of the 80, only 54 were full blooded Clatsop. The causes for the loss of population are both obvious and subtle. A serious epidemic, called the 'cold sick' by the natives, swept through the region ' in the early 1830's. Dr. John McLoughlin of the Hudson's Bay Company estimated that three fourths of the Indians around Ft. Vancouver died at h t . 95 t e 1.me. So devastating was the disease that Hall J. Kelley claimed that at the mouth of the Columbia in 1834 one "heard little more than the sight .and cries of the misery in the perishing remnants of the Clotsop (sic) · 96 and Chenook tribes." Adding to the problem, smallpox returned in 1836, and the natives continued to treat the various fevers with a form of hydrotherapy, consisting of time in a sweat lodge followed by a rush into the icy waters, a practice which only proved to aggravate the illness. 97 Herbert C. Taylor, Jr., estimated that between 1790 and 1832, 7/8 to 19/20 94Robert Shortess to Anson Dart, Feb. 5, 1851, cited in Ruby and Brown, p. 222; Daniel Lee and John H. Frost, Ten Years in Oregon (New York, 1844), p. 236. 95E. E. Rich, ed., McLaughlin's Fort Vancouver Letters, First Series, 1825-38 (Toronto, 1941), pp. 88, 115, 232-3; Sanru.el Parker, Journal of an Exploring Tour (Ithaca, 1838), p. 178. Parker estimated deaths at 7/8 to 9/10 of the native population. 96Hall J. Kelley, "A History of the Settlement of Oregon and the Interior of Upper California," cited in Ruby and Brown, p. 189. In Traits of American Indian Life and Character by a Fur Trader (San Francisco, 1933), Peter Skene Ogden noted that the corpses piled up because there were too many dead for the living to care for properly (pp. 67-71). 97 Parker, p. 178; see also Herbert C. Taylor, Jr., and Lester L. Hoagland, Jr., "The 'Intermittent Fever' Epidemic of the 1830s on the Lower Columbia River," Ethnohistory, IX, 2(Spring 1962). ' ' " ·: ' :~ "' ,II of all Chinooks (including Clatsops) "died of smallpox, ague, syphillis and other of civilization's many blessings. 1198 46 The Northwest Indians were constantly warring among themselves, even well before the advent of the whites; but wars were often settled in pre-battle negotiation sessions, or at least after the fall of a min- imal number of men. 99 After trade opened with whites, however, the num- bers lost in battle increased greatly due to the availability of more effective weapons to replace spears _and bows. Rev. Frost reported that on several occasions he could hear the peppering of gunfire all day 100 long. More subtle forces helped to precipitate the drastic decline in the Clatsop population, however, forces which eroded the Indians social and cultural structures. The twenty years of sea trade up until 1810 began modifying the social structure of the coastal Indians as wealth among them increased. Those who adapted most quickly to the new trade arrange- ments gained in relation to the others in the society, thus altering the traditional social patterns. 101 · As bands of Indians jostled for position vis-~-vis the white traders, war activity increased somewhat for the higher stakes. Contact with sailors prompted an increase in marital 98 · Herbert C. Taylor, Jr., "Anthropological Investigation of the Tillamook Indians Relative to Tribal Identity and Aboriginal Land Claims," in American Indian Ethnohistory: Indians of the Northwest, ed. David A. Horr (New York, 1974), p. 37. 99 Ross Cox, Adventures on the Columbia River (New York, 1832), vol. I , p . 154. 100 · Lee and Frost, p. 97. 101 Drucker, pp. 129~30. :11 •/II Ill "' 111111 (: II', ii, 47 infidelity (although to a certain degree it had long been an accepted social behavior), but more important the contact spread venereal disease among the natives, the- repercussions of which really only appeared later in the 1840's and 1850's. 102 In addi~ion, the diseases mentioned before disrupted inheritance lines of the Clatsops, which in turn hampered the conmrunication of the cultural heritage from one generation to another. 103 Relying on informa.tion from James Birnie, Richard Brinsley Hinds rioted in his journal that the "prosperity of Europeans had struck deeply at the root of the customs" of the coastal Indians. 104 The Indians turned away from their traditional products of the land and utilized trade goods instead: blankets replaced skins and cedar bark mats; iron tools replaced stone and wooden implements; traditional clothing gave way to the pants and shirts of the white man; the skills of basketry fell into disuse. Birnie noticed that the custom of carving images of men and animals . 105 declined. Even in such a simple matter as canoe design, the old prac- tices were modified by the use of sails. 106 Furthermore, when the Hudson's Bay Company, and later other traders, moved the base of trade operations inland to Ft. Vancouver, the Chinooks io;.atives in Alaska often called venereal disease "Chinook. ,t Ruby and Brown, p. 156. 103Ruby and Brown, p. 127; Joyce A. Wike, "The Effect of the Mari- time Fur Trade on Northwest Coast Indian Society," Diss. Columbia Univer- sity (1952), pp. 97-98. 104Richard Brinsley Hinds, "Journal," MS, File XIII, Kenneth L. Holmes Collection, Oregon Historical Society (n.d., n.p.). l05Ibid. 106Fredric W. Howay, "A Yankee Trader on the Northwest Coast, 1791- 1795," Washington Historical Quarterly, XXI (1930), pp. 90-1. and Clatsops lost their position as middlemen between the whites and the interior bands of Indians, a position they had maintained since long before the arrival of whites. The loss further impoverished the Lower Columbia Indians and increased their dependence on the trade goods of the whites. Certainly, over the span of the half century following the entry of Captain Robert Gray into the Columbia River, the local Indians fell more and more under the power and authority of the whites. Duncan McDougall achieved great control by frightening the natives in 1812 with the claim that he .held the smallpox disease contained in a small vial, h t · 1 · t 1.· f d 107 Man f h 1 ad t rea en1.ng to re ease 1. aggravate. yo t e ear y tr ers took native wives, mostly from the native aristocracy, which often gen- erated influence for the whites within the bands beyond the normal trad- . 1 t' ·h. 108 1.ng re a 1.ons 1.ps. By 1851, 18 of the 80 remaining Clatsops were half- bloods, almost 25%. One complication arising out of the mixed marriages was the insistence by the whites that the heads of the offspring not be flattened, as was the custom among the free-born natives. Such a demand went directly counter to the native cultural mores, and it inevitably led to cultural and psychological confusion among the natives. Perhaps the most devastating influence of white civilization on the native society arrived in the form of liquor. Although ~ailors had given natives access to alcohol occasionally, the real introduction of liquor 107 · Cox, vol. I, pp. 314-5. 108Ruby and Brown, pp. 145-6, 222. ' " ,1! 41 ~I I 111:: Ii,: 1t' 11, II, ,[' ·1 49 in any quantity was at the hands of the Northwest Fur Company about 1813. 109 Thereafter, rum and whiskey were staples of the trade. For the next forty years the Americans would blame the British for corrupting the natives with alcohol while they themselves dispensed it freely, and the British would do the same. It should be noted that traders under the authority of Dr. John McLaughlin were under strict orders not to give liquor to Indians, but at the mouth of the Columbia River, McLaughlin's authority was not always respected or deferred to. The effect of liquor on Indian culture was devastating: indolence became commonplace among the formerly industrious natives, partly as a result of a growing dependence on trade goods but generally a consequence of the debilitating effects of the liquor; intertribal violence became more widespread as intoxicated natives, released from traditional cultural controls, quarreled among themselves h · 1 f ad d ambl. llO overt e spo1 so tr e an g 1ng. Many persons, both native and irrnnigrant, sought to limit the dis- tribution of liquor. Rev. Frost attempted unsuccessfully to prevent the sale of alcohol from a ship in 1842, blaming the ship's trade for the death of at least one native. The incident prompted a Clatsop to advise Frost, "Your people are very bad, friend. 11111 Later in 1847, a major furor arose over the possession and sale of liquor by a certain George T. Geer. The settlers were upset with Geer because he sold alcohol to the natives, and they narrowly averted an outbreak of violence in their l09Ibid., p. 152. 110 Parker, p. 243. lllp · 367 8 L and F t 316 7 1pes, pp. - ; ee ros , pp. - . 1 i 50 1. d h" . 112 Wh A D . d eagerness to c ose own is operation. en nson art negotiate .several Indian treaties at Tansey Point in 1851, the natives demanded as one condition of the treaties that a certain unscrupulous liquor trader, Washington Hall, be removed from among them, demonstrating a belated 113 awareness of the devastation caused by the alcohol trade. . Nearly every observer of the scene on Clatsop Plains in the late 1840's noticed the poor coridition of the natives and almost unanimously blamed the corrupting influence of white civilization for that condition. Overton Johnson wrote that the mingling of white men with the Indians tended "to degrade, sink, and destroy" the latter. Wyndham Robertson, Jr., wrote of the Ciatsops that "their inexhaustible resources have been taken from them, their bows unstrung, arid from 'lords of the soil,' they have sunk to the degradation of slaves." Rev. John Frost lamented in 1843 that none might live "to tell the sad tale of their decline. 11114 Evidence that the natives had all but given up on their cultural survival can be fourid in the brief notations in Richard Brinsley Hinds' journal concerning the large numbers of abortions and infanticides among th . 115 e natives. Between November, 1841, and February, 1842, Rev. Frost 112 Oregon Spectator, July 22, 1847 and August 5, 1847. At the trial Solomon Smith admitted that he partook of intoxicating beverages, arid Joe Champion said he bought it to entertain ''lady friends." 113 "Report of Superintendent Dart to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs," September 23, 1852. Senate Executive Document ffol, 32nd Congress, 2nd Session. 1140verton Johnson and William H. Winter, Route Across the Rocky Mountains, ed. Carl L. Cannon (Princeton, 1932), p. 55; Wyndom Robertson, Jr., Oregon, Our Right and Title: Containing an Account of the Condition of the Oregon Territory, (1846), cited in Ruby and Brown, p. 143, Pipes, p. 370. 115Hinds, "Journal" . " " 51 enumerated only two babies survived out of ten births, and he noted h f h h . h al. . t 116 infanticide waste primary reason or t e ig mort ity ra e. It is probable that the infanticides resulted from syphilitic defects, the harvest of seeds sown earlier. Yet the aura of hopelessness and despair pervaded Clatsop society in the 1840's as it faced cultural, social, and physical destruction. In 1848, Solomon H. Smith stood squarely between the clashing cul- tures of the whites and the natives. A member of Wyeth's first expedition to the Northwest, Smith had remained at Ft. Vancouver, where he was engaged to teach school for two years. While at Ft. Vancouver he had met · 117 and married Celiast, daughter of the Clatsop chief Coboway. He then moved onto French Prairie where he pursued a variety of occupations, and in 1840 he accompanied Rev. John Frost to Clatsop Plains and settled on Neahcoxie Creek at the south end of the Plains. The Smiths later moved to a claim near Skipanon Creek, where they raised six children of their own, as well as a Tibbetts boy and a Hawaiian slave girl named Jessie Bill, whom Celiast purchased from a sailor. Rev. Frost noted in his journal that the Smiths "enjoy religion," and indeed they had been married by Jason Lee. Some chroniclers have claimed that the Smiths moved to Clatsop Plains because of a missionary zeal on the part of Celiast, while others state 116 Lee and Frost, p. 314. 11711 solomon H. Smith," pp. 81-4. Celiast, or Ellen as the mission- aries called her, had been married previously to a French-Canadian and how she and Smith resolved the marital entanglements is subject to some controversy. See Alfred Powers, History of Oregon Literature (Portland, 1935), p. 132; Hubert Howe Bancroft, History of Oregon (San Francisco, 1886), vol. I, p. 182; Charles H. Carey, History of Oregon (Chicago, 1922), vol. I, p. 340. ,, , .. ::11 J·• I 111 52 they merely wished to be near her people. Perhaps both reasons were . 118 operative. Because of his ties both to the white society where he was respected and accepted and to the Clatsop society where his wife enjoyed an honored position, Solomon Smith served as a go-between for the two cultures. He acted as an informal Indian agent until the appointment of ' Josiah L. Parrish in 1849, and even after that he was regarded as a buffer when troubles arose. Frost appealed to Celiast to try to preclude some customs he considered barbarous, such as the burial alive of a dying 119 person to avert the interruption of a salmon run. During the contro- versy concerning liquor dealer George T. Geer in 1847, the settlers appealed to Smith to intercede with the Indians in an attempt to halt 120 their purchase of alcohol. James Harrell, a partner with Smith in a mill venture on the Lewis and Clark River, referred to him as "Clatsop Smith. 11121 Certainly Solomon Smith sympathized with the plight of the Clatsops more than many of the settlers, and he did not necessarily equate their different customs with evil. He worked well with the natives, unlike Rev. Frost. It was Smith who persuaded the Indians to assist in building a house for Frost and his wife in September, 1840. Rev. John Frost, on the other hand, shared a decidedly uncomplimen- tary view of the Indians with many of his fellow men of the cloth. 118Pipes, p. 58; Dobbs, p. 33; Powers, p . 132; "Solomon H. Smith," p. 84. 119p · 71 3 1pes, pp. - . 120 Oregon Spectator, July 22, 1847. 121Fred Lockley, "Reminiscences of James E. R. · Harrell," Oregon Histor- ical Quarterly, XXIV (1923), p. 189. See also Vaughn, "Settlement,1t p. 5; Vaughn was to deliver Indian Jim to "Salmon" Smith. ,, '" ::11 ,,, 11,J ,,, "' ::11 .:: J ,. J, I 'I':: ::~, ,111. • tll''\:'1 1 II~ ' 53 Throughout his journal, Frost draws a dismal picture of the Clatsops as •tstupid,1t •tsuperstitious," and, worst of all, ignorant of God. Frost held no respect for the native religious beliefs and practices, and he heaped scorn on the Clatsops for having "no idea of a future state." He even complained that their language was t:oo defective to express divine con- cepts at all. 122 He ignored or dismissed the large body of folk tales which explained the ideas of an all powerful god, a devil, the land of . the dead, as well as events in nature. The mind of a nineteenth century missionary seldom reserved a place within for understanding of another f l 'f 123 way o 1 e. Yet while Frost rejected Clatsop beliefs, especially in the field of medicine, as ignorant superstition, he was able to comment in all seriousness on the prominence of the Indians' "bump of avaricious- ness" due to the custom of head-flattening. 124 Don Berry mined the historical Clatsop Plains of 1848 for the basic elements of Trask. The background from which Elbridge Trask, along with Charlie Kehwa and Wakila, emerges in the novel is painstakingly drawn from the historical records of the time and place, yet Berry manages to set all the facts down in an informal and relaxed manner. As one reviewer wrote, Berry presents "history glancingly told" in his novels. 125 The Indian 122 . Pipes, pp. 56, 60, 236, 359-60. 123For example, see Paul C. Phillips, ed., "The Oregon Mission as Shown in the Walker Letters, 1839-1851," Frontier Omnibus, ed. John W. Hackola (Missoula, 1962); or later examples from China missionaries, Henry Olin Cady, Emily Hatfield Hobart, and Charles F. Johnson in Special Collec- tions, University of Oregon Library. 124Pipes, pp. 56, 239. 125Hal Borland, "Mountain Man down from the Hills," New York Times Book Review, Sept. 9, 1962, p. 41. ,, '" ::11 ,, 1.1 54 characters appear as human beings unencumbered by the stilting stereotypes so often strangling the roles of Indians in other fiction. Charley Kehwa is a shrewd and intelligent man who understands both the native culture of his own heritage and that of the 'Boston men' as well. He represents the spiritual power of the native culture while being fully aware of the physical power of the white society. It is of little rna.tter ultimately that he embodies the integrity of the Indians, however, for he is trapped, as were all natives, by the circumstances of his times. He could not escape the fact that he was a Clatsop and doomed, even though he could understand the situation. On the other hand, Wakila is caught in the decline of his culture without any understanding of the events which doom him. He believes that he can recover his strength, and the strength of the Clatsop band, through physical exertion and ~raditional direction. By chopping wood for Trask, he hopes to work off the hangover caused by the white man's liquor, unaware that he is too late to save himself. He is the product of the clash of cultures and the disintegrating Clatsop environment. "He has a choice ... and no choice at all. Two worlds, and he can't have either of them. He knows too Imlch of us to find pride in his own people anymore, and not enough to become a white man" (p. 62). Disease, death., and disrespect were all visited upon the Indians by white civilization and what remained of their culture was .insufficient to sus- tain their life, whether, like Charley Kehwa, they realized it, or, like Wakila, did not. The two are historically plausible if not specifically historical. One of the most intriguing and important aspects of Charley Kehwa is the sympathy and understanding with which Berry draws the character 55 of the tamanawis man. The mystical union of man and his envirorunent was a basic tenet of spiritual belief among the Northwest Indians, and as such it is an important heritage of the Northwest. Yet for those descend- ants of the European culture, the spiritual vision is a difficult, if not impossible, concept to grasp. Berry claims that one IIIllst usually go beyond the limits of one's own culture and language in order to express the spiritual experience. Because European culture does not for the most part allow for the visionary experience--except in religious ecstasy-- Berry says the symbology for dealing with the experience is not present . E lt 126 in uropean cu ure. The role of Charley Kehwa becomes more important, because it is the vehicle through which Berry and the reader rrust come to grips with and accept the mystical union of man and surroundings so essen- tial to the Indian culture. The tamanawis man or shaman of the Northwest Indians was a person charged with remarkable responsibilities. With him rested the proper per- formance of the various rituals, especially those pertaining to the return of the salmon, upon which the natives depended so heavily. The shaman also performed as a medicine man, caring for the ill in body or soul. Additionally, he (in some rare cases: she) was looked to for guidance as a fortune teller of sorts. He was thought to have the ability to com- rrunicate with the spirits, either through dreams or .meditations. The tamanawis man receives his powers through a vision on the Search- ing, although, like other youths prior to initiation into manhood, he usually learns rruch about the profession before embarking on the Searching. 1261ove, "Interview." ,, '" ::11 ,, 1,1 56 Most tamanawis men were following in the footsteps of a father or close relative. 127 The powers of the shaman were considerable, for he was believed to be able to sunnnon a variety of spirits or spirit helpers, either to harm or to heal. Disease was often considered to be the result of a lost s9ul, whether stolen by a spirit or just gone astray, The shaman would sunnnon his spirit helpers through songs, chants, and dances, and in some cases the shaman would himself travel to the land of the spirits to seek the lost soul. To do so the shaman would lie next to the ill--or sometimes dead--Indian and search by meditation and trance, dram- t . . th . f . . t 128 a 1z1ng e Journey o a sp1r1 canoe. The equipment of the shaman consisted of a variety of herbal med- icines, rattles, masks, and carved boards or sticks representing their · . 129 spirit helpers. The belief in the powers of the shaman was absolute. Rev. John Frost ridiculed the natives' beliefs in the curative ability of the medicine men on Clatsop Plains, as they presented bits of hair and h 11 th f ·11 130 s e s as e causes o 1 .nesses. Yet there was no doubt on the part of the natives. One historian has claimed that a shaman could become so powerful that he could make a person fall dead by grabbing that person's 127Franz Boas, "Traditions of the Tillamook Indians," Journal of American Folklore, XI (1898), pp. 23-38; Hubert Howe Bancroft, Native Races of the Pacific States (New York, 1874), vol. 1, p. 246; Drucker, pp. 158-61. 128 Drucker, p. 160; Cox, vol. I, pp. 158-9. 129Thomas W. Newman, "Tillamook Prehistory and its Relation to the Northwest Coast Culture Area," Unpublished dissertation, University of Oregon (1959), p. 86; Drucker, plates# 29, 30, 31. 130P. 56 1pes, p. • " ·11 ., II ,11 .I 1, 1 • k :.~ I .. ' j l • .... ' 57 soul from the air around his body. Hubert Howe Bancroft is a bit more conservative, stating only that "Some observors believe that mesmeric influences are exerted. 11131 Yet psychic powers are not really understood today, and the effects of placebos in modern medical and psychological research certainly indicate that the possibilities of the powers of sug- gestion and psychic medicine are not entirely without foundation. This power is established for Charley with the incident in the Nehalem village, when Charley changes the hostility of his hosts into fear merely by pro- ducing his tamanawis wand and threatening the men (pp. 175-179). Belief in the powers of that symbol created an unwillingness to test those powers. In the character of Charley Kehwa, Don Berry has gathered the wis- dom and the vitality of the Northwest coastal spiritual experience, the experience he hoped to transfer to European cultural terms in Trask. As Wakila described him, "Charley Kehwa could become any of the things in the world, so said the people, This was Charley's greatness, that he understood and was one with all the powers: the wind and the . seas and mountains and spirits and the minds of men"(p. 63). Earlier in the novel, Berry, through Solomon Smith, likens the power of the tamanawis to what he would call a 'hunch'; but later, Charley says that it is an understanding of how the world operates, of how the pieces fit together, of what man's role is in the whole world view (pp. 67, 98). In simple, yet somehow pro- found, terms Berry has distilled the essence of the Northwest coastal Indians' spiritual experience, and it is not so very alien to western 131Bancroft, Native Races, vol. I, p. 246; Samuel A. Clarke, Pioneer Days of Oregon History (Portland, 1905), vol. I, pp. 111-2. 58 culture after all. It is certainly a part of the literary tradition, in fact all artistic tradition, of western civilization. More important, it is a key to the Western experience, the experience of man alone in nature, seeking and exploring. As Trask moves down the coast from Clatsop Plains toward the land on the Killamooks, guided by Charley and assisted by Wakila, Don Berry follows the account of a similar trip in 1841 by Rev. John Frost, accom- panied by Solomon Smi.th, a Clatsop youth named Wakilkil, and a sailor named Lewis Taylor. 132 Frost hoped to find a route into the Willamette Valley by which he could bring cattle to Clatsop Plains, the route up the Columbia and Willamette Rivers being costly and time consuming. The trip down the coast was arduous, as the men had to cut their way through thick brush and brambles up to twelve feet high. In addition to the rough con- ditions, Frost had had difficulty in obtaining a guide, partly because few wanted to undertake such a journey, and partly because of enmity between the Clatsop chief Kotata and the Killamook tyee Kilchis. Frost finally was able to hire a Killamook who happened to be on Clatsop Plains, but he deserted them shortly. Frost's description of the trip is vivid. The group travelled by the old Indian trail, for that was the path Wakilkil remembered from a trip he had made as a boy. The trail ... lies along the side of the mountain LNeahkahniy which rises abruptly out of the ocean, and which is as steep as the roof of a house along where the path passes; the path was not nruch wider than a mans two hands, the soil being composed of gravel like unto broken slate stone, and at some places ve·ry stoney. And below the path, the decent, (sic) 132 see Pipes, pp. 235-62, 348-54. in many places, was very nearly perpendicular, and loosing itself into the depth of the Ocean below, who.se angry waves keep up one continual roar.133 . 59 Frost at one point expressed ccncern lest they lose Machera, Solomon Smith's packhorse, over the edge "into the foaming billows which rolled beneath our feet. 11134 On the return trip, Taylor did slip over a preci- pice, but not into the ocean, and he had to be rescued. At one point the group came to a step up of about four feet where they thought the horse would have great difficulty. The horse hesitated a bit then reared up on its hind legs, threatening to topple over onto Frost and Taylor, then it heaved itself up the step safely, emitting a loud snort. Berry reproduced the incident almost verbatim in Trask, so taken was he by the horse's effort (p. 124). In fact Berry borrows heav- ily from Frost's journal for the actual descriptions of the trip, for he uses the roof metaphor, a trail width of "two hands," and methods employed to clear a trail through the dense brush. Once over the difficulty of Neahkahnie, Frost's group experienced no further troubles. They were hospitably received by several Indians of the Nehalem band of Killamooks, being served fresh venison and steamed crabs. Berry borrowed the description of the steaming process almost wor d for word (p. 130). In December, 1852, and in March, 1853, Warren Vaughn made trips down the rugged coast between Clatsop Plains and Tillamook Bay. Although he 133Pipes, p. 242. William Clark wrote similarly: "If we had unfor- tunately made one false step we should eneviatably (sic) have fallen into the sea and dashed against the rocks in an instant." Thwaites, vol. III, p. 324. 134P. 243 1pes, p. . I I I J,I • " ~' . '" "' ('/ Ml*~ .,, I, . "' .. 60 does not give detailed descriptions ofthe terrain, his accounts are impertant in demonstrating some of the hardships suffered on the trip, and several of the incidents are adapted by Berry in Trask. On Vaughn's first trip, the men were eaten alive by fleas, and only the soaking of their blankets in the rain and swollen streams lessened the attacks. 135 At Hug Point, Vaughn speaks of dashing around the bluff, timing the rush 136 between the waves. Vaughn wrote of a former trip he had taken trying to reach Tillamook Bay from the Willamette Valley over the coast range of mountains. On that trip, his companion awoke in the night, sure that a wolf was prowling in the campsite. The wolf turned out to be a skunk, and Berry included the episode in Trask. 137 Also adapted from Vaughn's remin- iscences was the sawmill speculator, George Roode, who in reality .made the arduous trip down the coast with Vaughn. 138 Berry uses his Roode charac- ter to make connnents on the political scene in the Oregon country at the time, rather than sending him along on the trip. At 225 pounds, the real Mr. Roode was too obese to complete the trip envisioned by Berry. 139 Vaughn 135 vaughn, "Settlement," pp. 9, 10, 11. See also Cox, vol. I, p. 73, for another anecdote concerning the necessity of drowning the fleas by soaking clothing in the river. 136 See also Salm.lel Dicken, Pioneer Trails of the Oregon Coast (Port- land, 1971), p. 19. 137 vaughn, "Settlement," pp. 2-3. 138Ibid., pp. 15-6. 139 one of the few errors of fact in Trask occurs when Roode recites what is known of Murderer's Harbor (p. 73). He correctly states Captain Gray entered the Bay on August 14, 1788, but he goes . on to say that Gray reported the entrance closed by a sandbar on July 5, 1788, Captain John Meares so reported, not Gray. See T, C. Elliot, "John Meares Approach to Oregon," Oregon Historical Quarterly, XXIX (1928), p. 285. 61 also provided Berry with numerous small details such as Hannah Trask's cormnents on •tsalmon and potatoes;" the quantity of bread carried for the trip, the methods for steaming crabs and fish, the last cabin on Clatsop Plains belonging to William Latty, and the presence near Elk Creek of a shelter built by . the Killamooks (pp. 3, 7, 16). 140 The Killamook Indians141 were clustered in several bands along the streams emptying into what is now called Tillamook Bay. Prior to 1854 the area was variously referred to as Qµicksand Bay, Murderer's Harbor, and Killamook Bay. 142 The Killamooks were a branch of the Salish speaking Indians of the Northwest, separated from their linguistic brethren by the intrusion of the Chinooks down the Columbia River. 143 They shared most of their cultural traits with the Chinooks and Clatsops to the north, more so than other Salish groups. Certainly part of the reason for this lies in the large amount of trading that was carried on between the two groups, for most all accounts, from the journals of Lewis and Clark on, mention 140Lewis and Clark also reported the shelter; see Thwaites, vol. III, pp. 323-4. 141The name 'Killamook' had numerous variations of spelling due to the difficulty in transforming the gutteral sounds of the native language into written words. The early contacts with the Indians were by people untrained in linguistic symbology, and a profusion of spellings resulted. Herbert C. Taylor, Jr., lists 52 variations culled from journals in "Anthropological Investigation," p. 61; Harvey W. Sco"!,:t, History of the Oregon Country (Cambridge, 1924), vol, II, p. 310, lists several Taylor missed. 142Elliott, "Meares," p. 286; T. C. Elliott, "Gray's First Visit to Oregon, Haswell's Log of the Sloop Washington," Oregon Historical Quar- terly, XXIX (1928), p. 177; Pipes, p. 240. 143 Newman, p. 95; Scott, vol. II, p. 249; Haruo Aoki, "Salishan Indian languages," Idaho Yesterdays, 12, l(Spring 1968), p. 9; J. Nielson Barry, "The Indians of Oregon: Geographic Distribution of Linguistic Families," Oregon Historical Quarterly, XXVIII (1927), pp. 49-61. I I I ,/,I .. I. I~~ ilWi' ,) .. 62 that the Killamooks were present on Clatsop Plains and even farther up the Columbia. 144 As a result of the intercourse with the Indians at the Columbia River, as well as contacts. with white coastal traders, the Killamooks suffered the same decrease in numbers, although there was no liquor in their possession, and, by 1848, very few white men had trav- elled through their lands. 145 Many, if not most, of the chroniclers of conditions on the North- west coast prior to settlement ascribe a certain ferocity to the Killamooks, an attitude which plays a major role in the dramatic work- ings of Trask. The origins of this ferocity in all probability stem from the incident in which Lopeus of Captain Robert Gray's crew was killed in a scuffle over possession of a sword. Gray named the bay "Murderer's Har- bor" as a result, and the 'hard reputation' of the Killamooks was born. 146 Patrick Gass, with the Lewis and Clark expedition, called the Killamooks a "ferocious nation," prompted by an alleged attempted nrurder of a white concerning a blanket. 147 Yet Clark had a friendly and uneventful visit with the Killamooks when he travelled to their bay to purchase whale blub- ber. He was able to gain enough information from them to map out their 144Thwai tes, vol. III, pp. 315, 325, 329; Elliot Coues, ed., New Light on the Early History of the Greater Northwest: The Manuscripi:Jour- nals of Alexander Henry and David Thompson (New York, . 1897), vol. II, p. 858; Cox, vol. I, p. 302; Pipes, p. 239. 145 "Dart Report" (1852). 146Ell iott, "Gray," p. 177. 147 James K. Hosmer, ed., Gass's Journal of the Lewis and Clark Expedition (Chicago, 1904), p. 192. I I I I ,1,1 ,. ,. :~ ~ 63 lands and estimate their numbers. 148 In 1824 David Douglas journeyed through their territory sa£ely, and found them quietly digging roots. 149 One of the survivors of the Jedediah Smith party massacred on the Umpqua in July 1828, Arthur Black, was escorted overland by the Killamooks to Fort Vancouver without untoward incident. 150 Yet four years later, Dr. John McLoughlin sent Michel LaFramboise to the Killamooks with instruc- 151 tions to avenge the nru.rder of two Hudson's Bay trappers. Although Ross Cox branded the Killamooks as "the most roguish" of the local Indians, both Warren Vaughn and John Frost were treated with considerable hospital- ity. In fact, Frost noted in his journal that "if they had been disposed to be hostile, they had the best opportunity in the world to cut us off. But they had no such intention, and probably no such thought. 11152 In addi- tion Killamook ferocity is implied in the fact that the chiefs of the Ki1lamooks and Clatsops were bitter enemies, according to Wakilkil in Frost's journal. Yet on their return from the Willamette Valley, Frost and Smith met Kotata, the Clatsop tyee who was such an "inveterate" enemy of Kilchis, on a trading mission at Barview, in Tillamook Bay. 153 Finally, 148 Th. ' t 1 III 325 6 iWal. e S, VO • , pp. - . 149David Douglas, "Sketch of a Journey to the Northwestern Parts of the Continent of North America during the Years 1824, -25, -26, -27," Oregon Historical Quarterly, V (1904), pp. 94-5 . 150Maurice S. Sullivan, The Travels of Jedediah Smith (Santa Ana, 1934), p. 108; Rich, p. 272. 151 Burt Brown Barker, Letters of Dr. John McLoughlin Written at Ft. Vancouver, 1829-1832 (Portland, 1948),pp. 268-9. LaFramboise killed six Killamooks and retrieved the horses of the trappers; pp. 271-2. 152 Cox, vol. I, p. 302; Vaughn, p. 12; Pipes, pp. 247, 255. 153Pipes, pp. 240, 351. Joe Champion, the first white settler in the Tillamook Bay area, noted that "the Indians seemed pleased with the prospect of having the whites 64 154 to settle among them (Poor Fools)." Thus, the vaunted hostility and ferocity of the Killamooks Im.1st be somewhat tempered. Most examples of violent behavior seemed to stem from misunderstandings, and such erup- tions were not unusual among the Clatsops, traditionally considered to be a much more peaceful band of natives. Examples of amicable relations ·with the Killamooks are as prevalent as the more drama.tic ones. Al though · playing up the ferocious nature of the Killamooks in such scenes as the potlatch at the Nehalem village, the capture of Trask by the Killamooks and Illga, the fear of Wakila, the reluctance of most Clatsops to guide Trask to Murderer's Harbor, and even the use of the name Murderer's Har- bor rather than the more common reference of Killamook Bay, Berry does point out that the problem between the Clatsops and Killamooks depends pretty ruch on the personalities involved (p. 18). Berry's soft dis- claimer does little to diminish the overall impression of danger as Trask, Charley, and Wakila proceed toward the Killamook land, and such a view is probably not inconsistent with the way the Clatsops generally viewed the Killamook territory, for they seldom went there themselves; concentrating instead on the Columbia River trade. George Gibbs noticed that travellers in the Northwest were "told by every successive band ~hat just beyond them the Indians were very bad; any worse than the last never being reached, but, like an ignis fatuus, keeping a little ahead, 11155 154Champion, "Account," 155George Gibbs, "Tribes of Western Washington and Northwest Oregon," Contributions to North American Ethnology, I (1870), p. 190. 65 Like the other Indians in the Northwest, the Killarnook.s did not necessarily recognize a single chief, at least not one .who would hold sway over all band members in all circumstances. Although farther north, groups conceived of chiefs mainly in terms of lineage and to some degree in terms of wealth, the social structure became less rigid as one pro- gresses southward through the linguistic groupings; in Northwestern Cal- ifornia, the emphasis for selection of chiefs was heavily on individual b 'l't 156 a 1 1 y. In addition, the Coast Salish, to which group the Killamooks belonged, carried a cultural heritage of a looser social structure than the Interior Salish. 157 Generally speaking, then, among the Killamooks, and to some extent the Clatsops as well, the chiefs were chosen on the basis of ability and usefulness more than heredity. As Sa.nru.el Parker noted on his tour of the Oregon country in the 1830s, the chief's "only power is influence, and this is in proportion to their wisdom, benevo- 158 lence, and courage." Thus, as Charley Kehwa explains to Trask, a tyee does not necessar- ily speak for all people in the village or band; he gives guidance, but his authority is respected only as long as he retains their respect per- sonally (pp. 220-1). As a result of such a social practice, the rivalry between Kilchis and Illga postulated by Berry is theoretically possible, but was it indeed a fact? Kilchis was a formidable presence among the coastal Indians: a 156 Drucker, pp. 108-128. 157 Ibid~ , p. 204. 158 · Parker, p. 250; see also Bancroft, Native Races, vol. I, p. 240~ :1~-1::, 1:i I 1: I~ I •l"' ' 1,1 ~ i 66 man with a mysterious past and strong leadership abilities, Warren Vaughn described Kilchis as •ta large man, with African features, his hair was curly, had rather a high forehead, a flat nose, thick lips, and a long chin, when sober-minded he had a sort of scowl on his face, but when 159 pleased his face was smiles all over." At another time Vaughn esti- mated his weight at two hundred and twenty-five pounds, and concerning his character he noted: The Indians used to say that in battle he was one of the bravest of the brave, owing to .his great strength and agility. He was a terror to his enemies, to his friends he was sedate and courteous--to his captives and slaves he was humane. As a chief, the Indians learned to respect and obey him. He was exact in his demands and wanted nothing but justice,160 Rev, Frost met Kilchis while passing back through the Tillamook Bay area on his way to Clatsop Plains with his cattle in 1841. Al though Kilchis "had been represented to us as a fierce, warlike chieftain, rt he generously assisted them with canoe transportation, after settling a per- sonal conflict with one of Frost's Clatsop men. Frost added that Kilchis "fulfilled his engagement to the letter. 11161 The origins of Kilchis remain obscure and speculative. He is gen- erally thought to be the descendant of a shipwreck survivor, whether from the famous beeswax ship or a mysterious Neahkahnie treasure ship. One early resident of Tillamook Bay claimed that Kilchis was descended from Lopeus, of Captain Gray's crew, who had not died in the 1788 attack but 159 vaughn, "Settlement," p. 15. 16 °warren H. Vaughn, "Diary," MS in Tillamook County Pioneer Museum (n.d., n.p.). This diary is essentially the same as the typed MS "Early Settlement of Tillamook County, 1851-1858" in University of Oregon Library, but there are several differences in the text, including the above descrip- tion of Kilchis. 161p· 349 1pes, p. • I ~ ,,, :11 ,. , ... ...... (',II' :f~ ... t .. 1:r. , .. .. had escaped, married, and sired the great black tyee. Ellen Center, daughter of Kilchis, maintained that her father had no Negroid blood, rather he was a dark-skinned Killamook (of rather large physique, evi- dently).162 67 Don Berry leaves the legends of Kilchis basically intact; to some extent he heightens the speculation a bit, however, by tendering the sug- gestion, through the person of a Nehalem shaman, that perhaps Kilchis is a spirit in the form of a man (pp. 21, 189, 241, 275). Berry goes so far as to compare Kilchis to the all-powerful spirit Neahkahnie, tying together the challenge of the mountain (spirit) and the man, the mystery of the mountain and the man, the integrity of the mountain and the man (pp. 21, 238). Berry assigns great wisdom to the tyee, as well as an understanding of the inevitability of the settlement of white men in the Bay. Although Joe Champion recorded that the Indians "seemed pleased" to have the whites settle among them, two daughters of Illga expressed the situation somewhat differently. As they told an interviewer in the 1930s: Although Chief Kilchis was always a true friend to the white settlers, he told his people at the time of Champion's arrival that he did not like to see the white man come to Tillamook because wherever he went he took all the land, but that there was nothing they could do about it, so it was best not to hurt their feelings. 163 162vaughn, "Settlement" p. 15; Samuel A. Clarke, Pioneer Days of Ore- gon History (Portland, 1 9 0 5), vol. I, pp. 156-61; Letter of Lucy Doughty to Oregonian, June 26, 1930; Letter of Ellen Center to Oregonian, August 5, 1930. Drucker, p. 26, cites the fact that Clatsops and Killamooks were only about 162-165 cm tall. This indicates how large Kilchis was in com- parison if he were at least six feet tall (182-183 cm). 163Marguerite Stasek, "Interview with Jane and Emma Adams," MS in Tillamook County Pioneer Museum, (n.d., n.p.). 68 Warren Vaughn wrote that a stern Kilchis seemed pleased that he had come to Tillamook to settle the land, but such a reaction was not inconsistent 164 with the attitude of Illga's daughters. Don Berry chose to believe the Indian point of view rather than that of Vaughn or Champion (pp.267, 283). Illga was a leader in Killamook society, but he did not exert nearly the influence of Kilchis. Illga's position seems to have been one associ- ated with hereditary claims to leadership with his band of Killamooks, although such claims were weak among the Coast Salish, as pointed out before. He had far more contact with white society than did Kilchis, and he had been to Astoria on trading missions on occasion. He had married a Clatsop woman by the 1840s, and he later became a baptized Christian, tak- ing on the name Adani and giving 'christian' names to his daughters and wife. Yet Illga definitely played a role subordinate to Kil chis in the affairs of the Killamooks. When Warren Vaughn needed a guide and canoeist to take him upriver from the Bay, Kilchis arranged for Illga, a skilled 165 canim man, to perform the task. Illga, or Tes~tes-no as he was also called, 166 later became the nominal chief after the death of Kilchis in 1870, but his authority was limited to matters which concerned Killamook 164 vaughn, "Se~tlement," p. 15. 165 vaughn, "Settlement," p. 15; Stasek, "Interview." 166Don Berry uses the alternate spelling of Yes-yes-no, saying it shows an ambivalence of whites towards Illga. He undoubtedly bases this spelling on Vaughn, "Settlement," p. 36, but that clearly is a mistake in transcription. Vaughn uses the "T" variation on p. 15, and that spelling appears also in Lucy Doughty, untitled MS, Tillamook County Pioneer Museum (1938). Since she had.known Illga, the "T" is probably correct. 69 relations with the whites. His tenure was short-lived, however, for he was soon replaced, at the behest of the Killamooks, by a man who was edu- cated enough to lmpw how to read and write, 167 There is no record of hos- tility between Kilchis and Illga, nor, for that matter, between Illga and his own successor; the selection of leaders was a process of consent rather than intrigue, and all men had the right to speak ori matter~ per- . . h band ·1 168 ta1n1ng tote at counc1 • The land that Trask finds sets his eyes blazing, setting afire his determination to settle the Bay area (p. 228). The' land up the rivers from the Bay was rich land; buried under a thick covering of ferns 8 to 10 feet tall was a broad, fertile flood plain. Most early settlers in the Willamette Valley avoided areas of fern, believing such surfaces to be too boggy for good agriculture. When Rev. Frost wrote later of his trip through Tillamook Bay, he claimed to have seen "no land, worth men- tioning, that was fit for cultivation. 11169 An article in the Oregon Spec- tator indicated that the best garden in the country was grown in a fern t h h d · th t f · f d r1· ch earth·. 170 pa c , owever, an a erns were a sign o eep In early sunnner of 1848 George Walling reported that he arid a party of men had dis- covered fertile prairies in the country around "Kilanruke Bay," while they were exploring the coast south from the Columbia River. The men staked 167 Doughty MS. 168Gibbs, p. 185. 169 Lee and Frost, p. 308. 170 Oregon Spectator, Dec. · 28, 1848. : I~" :: r.~ Ii~ I 1:i· , f' I 1~11 ".I I rft11 r i ... ,.' •1.>io!H 1 (',fp I ·~~::: 11,., M11, .... ,, it':; ii:,:, Ii. I I .. ' 171 claims but did not stay. 70 The land itself is an important element in Berry's writing and in the literature of the West in general. Trask's journey is initiated by an uneasiness with the land on Clatsop Plains. Unable to articulate the cause of his restlessness, Trask can only vaguely speak of the future growth of the area. He sees the Plains, and himself, as limited and blocked in. Berry conceives of man's grasping for land as an attempt at innnortality and permanence. Men "can draw no clear line between them- selves and the land they walk. They are as much the possessed as the possessors" (p. 224). For Berry the land is elemental to human existence. Coming to terms with it, as the Indians had, was (and is) a primary theme of the West. The only way to do so is "to live in a land, and walk it, and plant it, and harvest it and see it in storm and calm until you got the rhythm of it in your belly" (p. 4). The ultimate goal for a man is to find in the land his own image, the solid configuration of himself, worked in materials of better staying quality than bone and wood. If he listens to the river and hears the coursing of blood through his temples; if he looks at a mountain and sees the strength of his own arm; if he is lost in the forest as in the darkest wells of his own mind--then that land is his, and he has lost the faculty of choice concerning it. (p. 226) The search for land, the search for that plot of earth that matches one's own soul, that is perhaps the strongest theme of western tradition. Trask is moved from the Clatsop Plains, not by .any tangible force, but 171 oregon Spectator, July 13, 1848. Walling's nephew returned and married Trask' s daughter, Bertha, in the 1850s. Walling himself became a renowned orchardist near Oregon City. This expedition is not mentioned elsewhere, and it may or may not have been noticed by Berry in the timing of Trask. I 1 ,,. ' :ri . .. , ,II Il l 71 rather by a vague uneasiness about the land--it does not fit: he cannot .feel the rhythm in his belly. Solomon Smith tells Trask that the restless- ness 'tis in your own belly," thus Trask is not at home, at one, with the land (p. 21). George Roode sees in Trask the same restless need to move to new land, to move into the wild unopened territory, and he sees that need as a very individual matter (pp. 78-9). Each man Im.1st carve his own relationship with the land, Im.lch as a Northwest Indian Im.1st carve his spirit helper after the Searching. While man's spirit is in the land, the land itself and the elements have their own spirits. Just as Kilchis assumes an affinity with the god Kahnie (pp. 21, 238), the mountain Neahkahnie is somewhat more than the place where Kahnie lives in spirit. The mountain takes on the personifi- cation of the spirit: Charley, Celiast, and even Smith are all reticent to relinquish the notion that the mountain may be the body of the god. For them it is more than just a mountain (pp. 22-3). As Charley explains to Trask, "This is our land, and these are our gods. The gods and the land are the same, and the people are part of both"(p. 97). Trask senses a personal victory in his battles with the land and the sea on the trip down the coast; he observes the struggle between the moon and storm clouds, feeling himself to be a part of it; while sitting warm and dry in his cabin, during a rain, he has "the notion of a ·minor skirmish won with an unnamed enemy" (p. 6). The land and the elements are not to be owned or battled as themselves, however, but to be encountered as spirits. The spiritual claim on the land bestows on man a claim to irrnnortali ty . . The environment as a major actor in the literature of the West, along with its personification, its animation, and its spiritual presence, is one of ,. ' 72 the most important cornerstones of western literature. The culture of the Killamooks and the Clatsops, both material and ritual, were similar to one another, but because of widespread contact with the white man before being studied by trained cultural anthropolo- gists, what is known of the cultures is somewhat limited. Early visitors were not necessarily good observers or recorders, but because of the sim- ilarity of most Northwest groups to one another, tm.1ch can be inferred from studies of cultures farther north completed prior to significant white con- tact. With a few exceptions, Don Berry provides a competent and accurate picture of Northwest Indian life. Prior to white settlement, the natives generally were naked, although the women did at times wear woven bark skirts, while both men and women resorted to woven capes to ward off the rain. It was not unusual for them to be mostly naked even in the cold of winter. 172 Most all the coast Indians flattened the heads of the free- born children, while slave-born children were usually not subjected to h d . 173 t e process except un er rare circumstances. The term 'flathead' was not applied to those Indians of the coast who cradled the heads of their infants, however, rather it was applied by the coastal Indians to their linguistic relatives inland, whose heads were flat on top rather than sloping. On two occasions Berry calls the coastal Indians 'flatheads' which is a white, not an Indian, perception (pp. 97, ·169). According 172Thwaites, vol. IV, pp. 185-6; Hosmer, pp. 176-9; Cox, vol. I, p. 169; Parker, pp. 244-5; Marvin C. Ross, €d,, George Catlin: Episodes from !'Life Among the Indians" and "Last Rambles" (Norman, 1959), plates 122, 124. 173Ross, Catlin, plates 121, 123; see also photographs in American Heritage Book of Indians (New York, 1961), p. 292, and The Great North- west (New York, 1973), p. 171. ... ;lj" ,., ;;l t 1:x ·. ll1 , ... •• .1 to William Clark ' the natives were low ig statui:£/e reather diminutive, and illy shapen; poss[esi/ing thick broad flat feet, thick ankles, crooked legs wide mouths thick lips, nose moderately large, fleshey, wide at the extremitx with large nostrils, black eyes and black coarse hair.17 The women usually had thick legs, swollen by poor circulation due to 73 tight anklets of beads. The men had Illllscular upper bodies from the exten- . addl ' 175 s1ve canoe p 1ng. The languages of the Clatsops and the Killamooks were quite differ- ent from one another, the former of the Chinook linguistic group and the latter of the Salish; yet comrmmication between the two was possible in the widely used trading language, 'Chinook jargon.' This was a combina- tion of several languages, including after a while some English and French terms, based roughly on the Chinookian language because of that tribe's central role in coastal trading. The real Kilchis, however, was not con- versant in the jargon, as Berry has him be. 176 The Killamooks lived in large, Illl.lltiple family lodges made of hewn planks up to several feet wide. The lodges were built low, but were dug 174Th · 1 IV 183 4 wa1tes, vo. , pp. - . 175Thwaites, vol. III, pp. 241-2; Alexander Ross, Adventures of the First Settlers on the Oregon or Columbia River (London, 1849), pp. 88-93; Cox, vol. I, pp. 69, 303-4. 176 vaughn, "Settlement," p. 15. For information on the Chinook jar- gon see Edward H. Thomas, Chinook: A History and Dictionary of the North- west Coast Trade Jargon (Portland , 1935); George Gibbs, A Dictionary of the Chinook Jargon (Washington, 1863); George C, Shaw, The Chinook Jargon and How to Use It (Seattle, 1909). Berry utilizes the jargon effectively throughout his writings of coastal Indians; he drew one interesting speech pattern from the experience of John Frost. Frost claimed that the natives found it virtually impossible to pronounce his name, arriving at "Flost" instead (Lee and Frost, p . 311); Berry has Trask called "Tlask11· on several occasions. ' --:1• ··- .... ,ii' 1:i ·, r:i:1 ' .. .,..I .. i ... "" ...