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THE WYOMING STATE ARCHIVES, MUSEUMS AND HISTORICAL DEPARTMENT
The function of the Wyoming State Archives, Museums and Historical Department is
to collect and preserve materials which tell the story of Wyoming. It maintains the state's
historical library and research center, the Wyoming State Museum and branch museums,
the State Art Gallery and the State Archives. The Department solicits original records such
as diaries, letters, books, early newspapers, maps, photographs and art and records of early
businesses and organizations as well as artifacts for museum display. The Department asks
for the assistance of all Wyoming citizens to secure these documents and artifacts. Depart-
ment facilities are designed to preserve these materials from loss and deterioration. The State
Historic Preservation Office is also located in the Department.
WYOMING STATE LIBRARY, ARCHIVES, MUSEUMS AND HISTORICAL BOARD
Frank Bowron, Casper, Chairman
Lucille Clarke Dumbrill, Newcastle
Dave Paulley, Cheyenne
Mary Sawaya, Kemmerer
Tom Mangan, Laramie
Bill Bruce Hines, Gillette
Marion Barngrover, Worland
Gladys Hill, Douglas
Mary Guthrie, Attorney General's Office, Ex-officio
EDITORIAL ADVISORY BOARD
Dona Bachman
James Donahue
Rick Ewig
Mark Junge
Linda Rollins
Mary Garman, Ex-officio
President Wyoming State Historical Society
Frank Bowron, Ex-officio
Chairman, State Library, Archives, Museums and Historical Board
ABOUT THE COVER— This photograph of the Tetons was made by Joseph E. Stimson, an individual
whose career spanned more than fifty years. Stimson, under the patronage of the Union Pacific Railroad
captured much of Wyoming's history in a period of intense and rapid transition. His efforts resulted
in a collection of more than 7,500 glass plate and nitrate negatives. They are now part of the Depart-
ment's research collections. While Stimson sedulously recorded man's imprint on Wyoming, he found
time for many beautiful scenic photographs. The Tetons were a favorite subject of his, and prints of
them were used by the Union Pacific in promotional literature.
NNALS of WYOMING
Volume 58, No. 1
Spring, 1986
GOVERNOR OF WYOMING
Ed Herschler
DIRECTOR
Dr. Robert D. Bush
EDITOR
William H. Barton
ASSISTANT EDITORS
Jean Brainerd
Rick Ewig
Roger Joyce
Ann Nelson
EDITORIAL ASSISTANT
Kathy Martinez
PHOTOGRAPHIC
ASSISTANTS
Paula West-Chavoya
Carroll Jones
Ed Fowler
WYOMING STATE PRESS
MANAGING EDITOR
William H. Barton
TABLE OF CONTENTS
MEMORIES OF AN OIL FIELD 2
by Elizabeth Nuhn
VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS
H. V. Rominger and the Social Gospel in the West 8
by William H. Moore
JOHN D. HAINES,
Oklahoma's Pioneer Mountaineer in the Tetons 16
by Joe D. Haines, Jr.
NATIVISM IN WYOMING 1868 TO 1930:
Changing Perceptions of Foreign Immigrants 20
by Lawrence A. Cardoso
SINGLE WOMEN HOMESTEADERS IN WYOMING 1880-1930 39
by Paula M. Bauman
REVIEWS 54
INDEX 64
CONTRIBUTORS 68
!
UNIVE i
LAR ..
u
ANNALS OF WYOMING is published biannually in the Spring and Fall by the Wyoming
State Press. It is received by all members of the Wyoming State Historical Society as the of-
ficial publication of that organization. Copies of previous and current issues may be purchased
from the Editor. Correspondence should be addressed to the Editor. Published articles repre-
sent the views of the author and are not necessarily those of the Wyoming State Archives.
Museums and Historical Department or the Wyoming State Historical Society. ANNALS OF
WYOMING articles are abstracted in Historical Abstracts. America: History and Life.
Copyright lWh by the Wyoming State Tress
MEMORIES of an OIL FIELD
Grass Creek Dome, called Midwest until 19231, is one
of the most important oil structures of the Rocky Moun-
tain fields. It is located in the southwest part of the Big
Horn Basin. The Big Horn Mountains are on the east, the
Owl Creek Mountains on the south and the Absaroka
Range on the west.
In June, 1914, light paraffin oil was discovered in the
frontier sand, and the early development was confined to
this strata. In 1922, a well drilled in the Embar-Tensleep
(Pennsylvania) produced a heavy asphaltic gravity oil.
The early oil men who frontiered the oil industry were
not all college men. Among the outstanding pioneers was
a man named Jack McFadden. He was a hard working Scot
who had gained early experience as a roustabout, tool
dresser, pumper, carpenter and blacksmith in an Ontario,
Canada oilfield, and later worked for the Ohio Oil Com-
pany.
He was hired by James Donnell to put out a grass fire
that was threatening a pump station in Randolph, Ohio.
He was a young man with much determination; he was
a workaholic who wanted to work night and day seven
days a week and was capable of performing any job
designated him.
In 1912, Donnell turned his attention toward Wyoming
as the media was full of news about the oil strikes there.
Uncle Jack McFadden, as he was affectionately called by
the people who worked with him, was sent to Wyoming
2
to file oil placer claims with the Federal Government. Un-
cle Jack secured the claims for the Ohio Oil Company in
1913 and brought in his first oil well in 1914 with a cable
tool rig. By the end of 1914, he had brought in eleven wells
which cost the company $129,123.
Most of the early wells were completed in 60 days. The
drill pipe which was brought in by mule team from the
railroad in Kirby exceeded the $3.00 per ft. drilling cost.
In 1918, my father, George McCrady, who worked for
the Ohio Oil Company in Indiana, came to Wyoming for
my mother's health. They came by stage to Grass Creek
from Thermopolis, Wyoming. He said he thought it was
the most desolate place in the world; he vowed he would
stay one year. Instead he came as a driller and 29 years
later retired in 1947 as superintendent of the Grass Creek
field. He was also instrumental in the early development
of the Buffalo Basin and Oregon Basin fields.
Many of the early oil workers came from the Midwest
and East. They were very interested in education so early
schools became an important goal. The first school known
in Grass Creek was held in a sheep wagon in 1915. Miss
Mary Herring was the teacher. She taught the youngest
students in the morning and the older students in the
afternoon.
Two years later, the sheep wagon was replaced by a
small frame building; Miss Alma Murphy was the teacher.
In 1919, more room was needed and a two-room building
by Elizabeth Nuhn
was erected. Grades from one to nine were taught. In 1920,
the school was destroyed by fire, and school was held for
the rest of the year in the basement of the Ohio Oil Com-
pany Amusement Hall. In 1921, a four-room school house
was built to hold 100 students who would attend school.
It was modern in every way except for gas lights. In 1922,
the district established bus routes for the students.
In 1932, Mrs. Katharine A. Morton, State Superinten-
dent of Public Instruction, came to present the first
Superior plaque in the state of Wyoming to the school.
Some of the school board members who promoted educa-
tion were Mrs. Marie Francis, J. S. Henry, Burr Farr, E.D.
St. Clair and George McCrady.
The oil industry slackened in 1942, and the staff was
reduced to two. In 1951, another oil boom hit and in 1952,
a new classroom, a lunch room and gymnasium were
added. The new gymnasium was dedicated in memory of
K. O. Cameron, an ardent educator. In 1960, four modern
brick teacherages were built. In the remodeled basement
were added showers, a science room and a library. Again
enrollment started to decline and all students were bused
to Thermopolis. Today, the teacherages are rented to peo-
ple living in the area. The school house is closed and no
longer used.
Teachers who were outstanding in teaching basic
academics were Miss Leona Flint, Miss Irene Orr, Miss Lula
Lang, Miss Dora Bender, Mr. and Mrs. Mann, Mr. and
Mrs. Holcomb and Miss Baird.
When the first people came to Grass Creek, many lived
in tents. The Ohio Oil Company under the supervision of
Jack McFadden soon hired carpenters, and houses were
built. The cookhouse was one of the most important
buildings to be built. Many single men and married men
who had not brought their families, because there were
no houses, came to work. The first cookhouse was built
on the north side of the dirt hill called the Hogs Back. The
second cookhouse was built in 1925 on the opposite side
of the hill. The cooks fed as many as 500 men per day at
one time. In 1925, a washroom and bathhouse were located
close to the cookhouse. Later a four room modern guest
house was built for Ohio Company officials who visited
the camp.
In 1921, bunk houses were added to the area near the
cookhouse. Single men and some married men, whose
families had not found housing, ate at the cookhouse and
slept in the bunkhouses that were maintained by the ser-
vice of the workers at the cookhouse.
In 1922, a murder occurred in Grass Creek that in-
volved my father, George McCrady, in the trial. On May
7, 1922, a bunkhouse was blown up, and Harrv Foight and
W. C. Seaton were killed. Albert (Bert) Lampitt had been
dating Grace Lee who was employed as a waitress at the
cookhouse. She later became engaged to Ham' Foight. Bert
Lampitt became jealous. My dad was the driller of a well
in Grass Creek at this time. Harry Foight was his tool
dresser. My dad said that Bert Lampitt came to the well
in the afternoon and quarreled with Harry Foight.
My dad said to Lampitt, "Bert, this is no place to fight.
We are on company time. Solve your problems after
hours."
Bert left and did not return. That night explosives were
placed near the corner of the bunkhouse where Harry
Foight slept. Footprints of a man leading from the building
to a shack occupied by Lampitt were found. Also tracks
of his car were traced from his shack to the oil company's
magazine where explosives were taken. Albert Lampitt was
convicted of the murder of Harry Foight on February 17,
1923, and sentenced to life imprisonment.
The Ohio Oil Company's gas plant began its opera-
tion in 1918. A three inch pipeline conveyed the natural
gasoline product to Chatham. Wet gasoline was taken from
both the Ohio Oil Company and the Standolind Oil Com-
pany; each had its own vacuum line system. People who
lived in the camp were always afraid the plant would catch
on fire. Once this did happen, and several men were
severely burned.
on our window. I can still recall the event vividly in my
mind today; it was a beautiful picture.
We had several doctors in Grass Creek. The first was
Dr. Thomas who was very old. He was a short plump man
who carried peppermints in his coat pocket for the children
of the families that he visited.
The next doctor was Dr. Wilson who came after the
hospital was built. He was a good doctor, a rather tall hand-
some man who only stayed for a short time.
The next was Dr. Taylor. He was also a very good doc-
tor who could diagnose his cases even though he had too
much to drink.
The people who lived in Grass Creek in the early years
had no televisions, but they enjoyed a rich community life.
From the beginning of the community there were dances
at the Community Hall every Saturday night. Families
would come and bring their children. When the children
became sleepy, they would make a bed for them on chairs
or benches in the balcony. At midnight, everyone would
go to the basement of the hall where the ladies had brought
sandwiches, pickles and cakes. Hot coffee was made and
everyone enjoyed the midnight snack.
The Cook House
Boasted a
Commodious
Veranda
W+C.*-
Mr. Burr Farr was superintendent of the gasoline plant.
Some of the employees were Lloyd Huff, John Weland,
Roy Huff, Elmer Wasllingford, Blakesly, Billy Reed, Ed
Reed, Jack McGeth, Tommy Malone, Edgar Williams,
George Dustin, Ralph Close, Walt Armstrong, Ralph
Greason and Gerald Smotherman.
In the early days the wells were not capped and would
gush into the sky like a geyser when they were brought
in. I remember my dad telling my mother at what time a
well they were drilling about one-fourth mile from our
house would gush. At the designated time she gathered
us to the window to watch this event. It was like seeing
a geyser for the first time. The black oil sprayed up-up-
and up, and the wind carried the oil and left a fine mist
There were also box socials; the ladies would fix lunch
boxes and decorate them beautifully; then they would fill
them with the most delicious foods that they could make.
They would be raffled off to the highest bidder. Competing
boyfriends really soared the prices on the bidding.
Also, when couples were married, everyone came to
their house after they had gone to bed, got them up and
took them to the amusement hall where they held a dance
in their honor. I was only about four when I remember
attending my first shivaree. I remember sitting on my dad's
lap as he buttoned my high top shoes. Then he bundled
me up and with my mother, sister and brother and drove a
mile to Lloyd Robbins' house in an old Model T. It was
pitch dark and people were beating on pans and making
The First
Class Met
in a
Sheep Wagon
s*€%
A 1928
School Bus
The Grass Creek
School House,
Built in 1917
**«*«* •
.-—• ■*■ "
«*
«**
a lot of noise. Out of the dark came the bride and groom
who were put on the back of a truck and taken to the Com-
munity Hall for a dance.
The first dance band came from Gebo, but soon the
people of Grass Creek were forming their own bands.
Those who played in the dance bands through the years
were: Ermon and Lois Farr, Darrell Oliver, Oscar Snyder,
John McCrady, Phil McClure, Mrs. Blair, Alma Robbins
and Walter Henrichs.
Holidays were always special days. Because many peo-
ple were from the Midwest and East and had no close
relatives, families would get together for family dinners.
My mother, Kathryn McCrady, was an Indiana farm girl
who was a fabulous cook. She always invited four or five
families for dinner. The grown-ups ate in the dining room
and the children in the kitchen. Everyone, after eating and
visiting all afternoon, attended the holiday dance.
A Wooden Oil Rig
During the summer, families would get together and
go on picnics. Each family would bring what they had. The
picnics were fun and the food was always delicious and
plentiful.
The kids in Grass Creek never had a dull moment.
There were always a million things to do. They created
their own fun. The Robbins were generous with their
horses, and kids would ride up Grass Creek, Enos Creek
and once in a while to the Dickie ranch where the cook
rewarded them with a donut. They could ice skate on the
creek in the winter and wade barefoot during the summer.
There were lots of places to go sledding. The rim rocks to
the north and south were wonderful places to hike and
burn weenies and marshmallows. There was a motion pic-
ture once a week at the Community Hall. There were sew-
ing clubs and scouting trips.
There was a tennis court that was built in 1929 and one
of the best miniature golf courses in the state was built by
Jack Francis. With such good tennis players as Marie and
Jack Francis and Zeke Lewis most of the kids in Grass
Creek learned the basics of tennis and miniature golf.
Sunday School was held in the schoolhouse. People
danced late on Saturday night, but getting to Sunday
School was a must with most families.
One of the homes in Grass Creek where kids had the
most fun was the Ralph Robbins' home. Mr. Robbins was
the biggest kid of all and had the heartiest laugh. Mrs. Rob-
bins was a good sport and always jolly. We used to play
Blind Man's Bluff and were sometimes quite rowdy, but
never did they complain. We sang songs to their player
piano and Mr. Robbins taught all of us to polka. They ran
the dairy and made ice cream almost every day. When the
strawberries were in season, we had strawberry ice cream,
and when the peaches were in season, we ate peach ice
cream. They also made yummy fudge, caramel, strawberry
toppings and always delicious cakes. They had an ice house
where they stored their own cakes of ice, and always on
their table was a pitcher of ice cold milk. There is no place
in the world today that could compare with the fun times
that we had at the Robbins' ranch.
Fourth of July's were seeing who could get up the
earliest to set off firecrackers under a friend's window. Also
the fireworks display from the dirt hill was unique. The
trips to the Cody Stampede were memorable. Early trips
to Yellowstone National Park in a Model T were events that
most people will not forget. The narrow road up Shoshone
Canyon was scary, especially when two cars met and one
would have to back until the two cars could pass.
Fishing was a sport most people enjoyed; the streams
were never crowded and the catch was always good. Most
people hunted sage chickens, deer, elk and moose in
season and usually were successful.
After World War II, everything changed. The people
chose to commute to Grass Creek from Cody, Meeteetse
and Thermopolis. The company houses were sold and
moved.
Today, the garage and office still remain, but the
houses are gone and only a few families live there. The
trees and lawns of the once picturesque camp hold equip-
ment and stacks of pipes. But as far as the eye can see
in all directions are grasshopper wells still pumping away
and new wells are still being drilled.
Gone is the hustling bustling camp of the early days.
Only memories of those who lived there know how won-
derful community life once was in this small oil field of
Grass Creek.
1 Midwest was changed to Grass Creek in 1923 because there were other
.towns in Wyoming called Midwest and the mail was always getting
sent to the wrong Midwest.
An Oil Well
Cleaner
A Truck Manufactured by
the White Company
S I
The
Gasoline
Plant
VOICE
IN THE
WILDERNESS
H. V. Rominger
and the
SOCIAL GOSPEL
in the WEST
by
William H. Moore
Virtually all students of American progressivism con-
cede the importance of the new "social gospel" in
animating early 20th century social and economic reform.
Sensing a widespread disaffection with the Church and
concerned about the disruptive impact of industrialization,
immigration and urbanization, a variety of Protestant
ministers called upon clergymen to reexamine scriptural
mandates, to commit the Church to an activist role in com-
batting the dehumanizing forces in the country, and to help
shape a just and moral society. A range of personalities
and interests typified the Social Gospel. The Rev. Charles
Parkhurst in New York, campaigned against vice and
municipal corruption; the Rev. Washington Gladden in
Columbus, Ohio, sought to mediate labor-management
conflicts; and the "Christian Socialist" Walter Rauschen-
busch of Rochester Theological Seminary pointed to the
contradictions between capitalism and Christianity.1
Despite its importance to national progressivism,
scholars know little about the dynamics of the Social
Gospel in the hinterland. Almost all our studies to date
have focused on the celebrated eastern ministers who
engaged the problems of industrialization and the big city.
Clearly, however, ministers trained in Social Gospel
seminaries in the East made their way into the interior of
the country where they faced a variety of problems.2 While
historians are far from any systematic understanding of
Social Gospel activists in the West, the experiences of one
clergyman, H. V. Rominger, do suggest some of the frustra-
tions and limitations such men encountered.
Henry Virgil Rominger was born in Forsyth County,
North Carolina, in 1854. During the Civil War, his father
died of disease while serving in the Confederate army.
Possibly prompted by his earlier pacifism as well as his
German family heritage, Rominger enrolled in Moravian
College and Moravian Theological Seminary in Bethlehem,
Pennsylvania, from 1875 to 1877. There he developed a
lifelong admiration for the heretic John Huss, the founder
of the Moravian movement.3
Rominger' s confrontational stance toward the Church,
however, seems to have been most influenced by the fac-
ulty of Union Theological Seminary in New York which
he attended in 1877 and 1878. Through Roswell D. Hitch-
cock, professor of Church History, he became convinced
that the historical church had departed fundamentally from
the teachings of Christ. Once considered a radical, Hitch-
cock was working on his controversial book Socialism (1879)
at the time Rominger was studying at Union. Hitchcock
recoiled in horror at most forms of secular socialism,
especially the "mad communism" of the Paris Commune.
Even labor unions, government intervention and popular
democracy threatened to loosen upon society a measure
of anarchy that would ultimately debase and devour the
individual. Contrary to the teachings of socialism and com-
munism, Hitchcock insisted that individual and Church
regeneration must precede genuine social reconstruction.
A rejuvenated, primitive Christian character would trans-
form society far more successfully than artificial statist
ideologies, he argued. The impressionable Rominger ap-
plauded Hitchcock's contention that the great need of the
day was "the rechristianization of Christendom," the
purification of individual conscience and the reaffirmation
of early Christian zealotry against social ills and evils. While
Hitchcock's immediate impact was conservative, his call
for a long-term Church-led transformation of society clearly
influenced the young Rominger.4
If Hitchcock called for a return to the primitive Church,
Rominger's real hero at Union, Charles Augustus Briggs,
professor of Old Testament studies, provided a scathing
condemnation of contemporary Christianity. Briggs argued
that the Church had become an agent of capitalist society,
that it had fragmented into narrow and impotent denomi-
nationalism and that it had forgotten Christ's social
message. "If Christ came to New York and preached in
Wall Street as he did in Galilee," Rominger remembered
Briggs observing, "we would crucify him in three days."5
"Even labor unions, government intervention and
popular democracy threatened to loosen upon soci-
ety a measure of anarchy that would ultimately
debase and devour the individual."
The author wishes to acknowledge research funding for this
article from the Wyoming Council for the Humanities.
After a year of teaching in Germany, Rominger, in 1880,
began a two year course of study in theology and philos-
ophy at the University of Berlin. He worked with several
highly regarded theologians, especially J. H. W. Stuck-
enberg. A liberal theologian and inexhaustible writer,
Stuckenberg called for a "Christian sociologv"— for a
systematic attempt to apply New Testament principles to
all social issues. More emphatically than Hitchcock,
Stuckenberg condemned the attempts of social theorists
to separate morality and religion. The Church should, he
insisted, avoid compromising with political pragmatists on
issues involving essential elements of Christ's teachings.
Rominger thrilled to Stuckenberg's call for Christian ac-
tivism, and he reveled in the intense atmosphere of the-
ological debate and history in Berlin. He remembered wit-
nessing the wedding procession of Prince Wilhelm (later
Kaiser Wilhelm II) in 1881 and gloried in the libraries
museums and galleries of the city.6
Laramie, as it would
have appeared to
Alice and Henry Rominger
His student days over, Rominger spent the next 30
years as a pastor of various Moravian, Congregational and
Presbyterian congregations in the American West. In the
1880s he served a Moravian church in Osborne, Kansas,
a Congregational group in Fort Gamble, Washington Ter-
ritory and other congregations in Albany and East Port-
land, Oregon. In 1890, he married Alice Beitel, a graduate
of the Philadelphia Conservatory of Music, and traveled
around the world, renewing his contacts with the faculty
at the University of Berlin and making lantern slides of his
stays in Egypt and Palestine.7 He clearly hoped that his
illustrated descriptions of the Holy Land would enliven his
ministry in the West.
Widely traveled, happily married, residing in the Pa-
cific Northwest that he loved, Rominger might well have
hit his mid-career stride in the 1890s. Instead, they became
a decade of intense disillusionment. While he was minister-
ing in Portland in 1892, the city hosted the Presbyterian
General Assembly. There heresy charges were voted
against Charles Briggs, one of Rominger's mentors at
Union Theological Seminary. The brilliant, contentious
Briggs had by now outraged conservatives with his Old
Testament criticisms. Ultimately, Briggs was convicted— a
development that prompted Union to sever its ties with
the Presbyterian Church and Briggs himself to take orders
as an Episcopalian clergyman. For the remainder of his life,
Rominger remained outraged and disgusted at the "melan-
choly, wretched performance" of the Presbyterian Church.
"Heresy is only orthodoxy in the bud and orthodoxy is
heresy gone to seed," he later wrote. "The hope of the
world and the progress of humanity we always owe to
heretics. They are the world's greatest benefactors." The
Briggs trial had shaken forever Rominger's hope that Chris-
tianity might become an engine of creative change in
human society.8
10
Fitfully, Rominger attempted to regain a sense of pur-
pose within the Church. He served as supply pastor to one
of the largest congregations in Oakland, California, but
resigned— supposedly to the regret of church members—
because he wanted a lighter workload and the opportu-
nity to shepherd a smaller, perhaps more malleable, con-
gregation. After a two year stint as an acting minister in
Hot Springs, South Dakota, he became pastor of a small
church in Crawford, Nebraska, in 1896. There he seemed
to flourish. In less than three years, he more than doubled
the size of the congregation and presided over construc-
tion of a new sanctuary, entirely free of debt.9
Rominger's successes in the small western Nebraska
community prompted the Union Presbyterian Church in
Laramie, Wyoming, to offer him its supply pastorship in
April, 1899. In part, because Laramie was home to the
fledgling University of Wyoming, Rominger accepted the
call. On his initial visit to Wyoming prior to the offer, he
had almost certainly met several leaders of the university
and community who were also connected with the Pres-
byterian Church. They included University President
Elmer E. Smiley, a former Congregational minister himself;
University Professor of Chemistry E. E. Slosson; City At-
torney C. P. Arnold, son of the church's first minister; Eli
Crumrine, church trustee and member of the city council;
and Judge James H. Hay ford, pietistic reformer and until
recently publisher of a local newspaper.10 Remembering
the intellectual atmosphere he had enjoyed at Union and
the University of Berlin, Rominger probably came to
Laramie expecting a more receptive environment than he
in fact encountered.
Laramie's initial reaction to the Romingers was one of
bemusement and applause. Alice Rominger won attention
by riding her horse side-saddle; her husband, seen as a
bit scholarly and eccentric, experimented with high plains
gardening and the raising of castrated roosters.11 As
minister, however, Rominger introduced a sense of history
and commitment that brought overflow crowds to the
Presbyterian church. From the pulpit, he prescribed a
reading list of classics for youth in the community, and he
enlisted Arnold, Hayford and others into joining him in
an exceptionally popular series of sermons and lectures on
19th century history. Rominger himself spoke on the moral
progress made under Queen Victoria and lauded the sacri-
fices for humanity made by John Ruskin, John Howard and
Florence Nightingale.12
Approval turned to alarm in late 1899, however, when
Rominger emerged as the spokesman for moral reform in
the city. By the turn of the century, both Cheyenne and
Laramie had begun to experience a variety of "pro-
gressive" agitations. Early in 1899, Cheyenne ministers and
a newspaperman launched a spirited attack on the city
fathers for not suppressing gambling. In Laramie during
1897 a new non-partisan business-oriented council had
taken over from an older government so riddled with
favoritism that it appeared unable to make necessary
physical improvements or restrict vice. By the time Rom-
inger arrived in Laramie, a series of bonding, sewer and
disease control measures had been implemented and one
local newspaper was congratulating the council on its abil-
ity to "contain" gambling and the saloon.13
Since two prominent Laramie Presbyterian women had
participated in a mass rally against gambling in Cheyenne
and since that campaign had attracted considerable press
attention locally, Laramie residents became unusually sen-
sitive to vice in their own midst. Aware of the impact of
the Rev. Charles Parkhurst's dramatic "tours" of New
York's fleshpots and gambling dens in 1892, Rominger
staged a daylight "tour" of Laramie's three Front Street
brothels in November, 1899. Then, supported by the Epis-
copalian minister and the local Women's Christian Tem-
perance Union (including several Presbyterian women), he
confronted the city fathers with the charge that their $25
a month "fine" on the brothels constituted de facto licens-
ing of prostitution. When City Attorney C. P. Arnold
demurred, Rominger curtly volunteered to take his
parishioner on a "tour" of the vice district.14
Rominger's clash with Arnold closely mirrored the na-
tional debate over prostitution at the turn of the century.
The city attorney, like many moderate progressives, be-
lieved that, given contemporary social values and perhaps
human nature itself, prostitution simply could not be
eliminated. The proper function of government, then, was
to attempt to minimize its impact, to protect the broader
society against its worse ravages. While sidestepping
outright legalization, these regulationists sought to contain
the brothel to select areas of the community by fines and
a measure of harassment. Any overt attempt to eradicate
prostitution, they warned, would only disperse the vice
throughout the community at large, offending public sen-
C. P. Arnold, City Attorney
and Prominent Presbyterian
sibilities and contaminating innocent citizens.15
Laramie, like many frontier communities, had func-
tioned under such a "fine" system at least since the 1870s.
Arnold and other city fathers with deep roots in the com-
munity clearly understood the system even when they did
not openly discuss it. Perhaps in the future, when Laramie
was no longer a frontier town, when the population had
been stabilized and "educated," prostitution could be
eliminated altogether. For the moment, however, they con-
sidered regulation as the only practical policy available.
They appreciated the revenues brought into the city by the
monthly assessments and they thought of themselves as
acting responsibly on an issue of considerable volatility and
complexity.16
To Rominger and other prohibitionists, such "practical"
arguments constituted hypocrisy, a sell-out, and un-
christian retreat from the Church's universal mandate of
engagement and redemption. Given his background, Rom-
inger was probably more incensed by the community's
willingness to strike a bargain with conventional assump-
tions than he was by the existence of prostitution itself. Cer-
tainly, the lessons of Hitchcock and Stuckenberg must have
suggested to the Presbyterian minister that compromise
I 1
on such a transparently moral question would leave the
local church members spiritually bankrupt, that it would
constitute a surrender to "secular" pragmatists. And the
heroic and confrontational posture of Briggs must have
stiffened Rominger's resolve to pursue the issue— once
engaged— to the bitter end. He rejected Arnold's call for
"light, not heat" on the subject, for a gradualist approach
to the problem, for an appreciation of the achievements
of the city council in restricting the saloon, gambling and
the brothels.17
. Rominger's campaign polarized
Laramie causing friction
within his own congregation'
For more than six months, Rominger's campaign polar-
ized Laramie, causing friction within his own congregation
and even within some families. Through the local Min-
isterial Union, he impressed the more timid Methodist and
Baptist ministers into his campaign. When the council
dallied, he began swearing out citizen's complaints against
property owners where brothels were located and press-
ing local courts and juries to issue stiff fines.18 By May,
1900, his policy of unremitting harassment had begun to
break up the downtown red light district. One city father,
livid with Rominger, condemned the ministers for interfer-
ing with the council's prerogatives. He complained bitterly
of the dispersal of vice throughout the community and of
the loss to the city of revenues from the monthly fines.
Although Councilman Crumrine, of Rominger's own
church, insisted that any citizen, even a minister, had a
right to petition the council, the city fathers clearly favored
a retreat to the red light district policy. While the issue of
prostitution began to recede after the council's action, Rom-
inger persisted in pressing the city fathers for a closing of
Sunday saloons, for sponsorship of a temperance palace
and for repression of gambling.19
Rominger's unwillingness to respect the conventional
limits of debate almost certainly cost him his job in early
1901. Church elders, meeting in C. P. Arnold's office,
voted to terminate his pastorate in April of that year. His
replacement would be a far more conventional and predic-
table figure, A. C. Hogbin, a brother-in-law of Elder E. E.
Slosson. After an emotional farewell reception by some 75
admirers from the local Prohibition Club, an unemployed
and undoubtedly embittered Rominger left with his wife
for Philadelphia. Like his hero Charles Briggs, Rominger
had been rejected by the Presbyterian Church.20
The defeat in Wyoming came midway between the
Briggs heresy trial and Rominger's ultimate abandonment
of the regular ministry. After brief pastorates in Dickin-
son and Hillsboro, North Dakota; Red Lodge and Laurel,
Montana; and Rainier and Portland, Oregon, the 56 year
old Rominger grew so discouraged in 1910 that he shifted
his energies to a small apple orchard and poultry raising
operation on the Columbia River in southern Washington.
While he still preached on a supply basis and regularly
taught Sunday School, he never again subjected himself
to the uncertainties of full-time dependence on church
work. Instead he read Goethe, Froude, Carlyle, the
muckraking literature, Christian Century, Common Sense, The
Nation and theological books. Increasingly, he settled into
a radical stance on Christianity, war and the American
economic system.21
The people of Europe and America have never been Christians.
They have never accepted the Christian religion except as a veneer
and hardwood finish to their essential paganism. War is the worst
wickedness ever spat from the jaws of hell but it is the "Christian"
nations' most costly and highly developed instrument. We think,
educate and organize for war and not for peace ... I have found
our present organization of society a flagrant contrdiction [sic] of the
Sermon on the Mount, the Gospel of Luke and other teachings of
Christ, and when the preacher insists that our human society with
all its trades and traffic must be brought up to the level of Christ's
character and teachings, he is in danger of being classed as a socialist,
or "red" financed from Moscow . . . The church is often acting as
a buffer between righteousness and the forces of moral obliquity.
Shame on it.22
Presbyterian Church, 1872-1907
12
Little in the interwar period prompted Rominger to
reconsider his bleak judgments. He remembered with bit-
terness the wartime imprisonment of Socialist leader Eu-
gene V. Debs. He blasted the churches and ministers for
failing to protest the "judicial murder" of Nicola Sacco and
Bartolomeo Vanzetti in 1927. After a trip east during which
he preached in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, and at-
tended a Miami Bible class conducted by William Jennings
Bryan, Rominger proudly proclaimed himself "an evolu-
tionist, Revolutionist, radical [Christian."23
A measure of public tolerance, if not acceptance or
understanding, came to the aging radical in the 1930s.
When his orchard operations went bankrupt in 1931-1933,
Rominger worked out an arrangement permitting him to
remain on the land where he split wood, tended a garden
and kept some poultry. He also served as a school board
member and justice of the peace. Most satisfying of all,
however, Rominger became a regular contributor to the
local newspaper where he expressed himself on almost
every imaginable subject. He attacked "Hoover pros-
perity" and the economic system, supported New Deal
public power projects and fought the liquor traffic.24
While some of his articles were so radical that the editor -
refused to print them, Rominger drew satisfaction from his
belief that he was reaching a larger audience than most
ministers with his religious messages. He especially en-
joyed drawing upon Charles Briggs' Whither? (1889) in an
extended debate with a Methodist minister on wealth and
the church.25
The "haves" are to share with the "have-nots." That . . . is the
chief theme of the Bible from Genesis to Revelation. The Bible is an
uncomfortable book to be read by millionaires and the selfish rich
. . . Christ never had a complimentary word to say for the
millionaires of his day, or any day . . . There was no place for a
millionaire in Christ's society.26
Proudly, he wrote back to the alumni secretary at Union,
"I am not a communist or anarchist, but a good deal worse,
for I believe in Christianity, and that is the most revolu-
tionary doctrine ever communicated to man— if we once
put it into action, which we don't."27
The specter of war, however, muted any optimism that
might have penetrated Rominger' s apocalyptic world view.
While he cultivated his Victory Garden and condemned
Hitler and the "Jap savages," he insisted that war was fun-
damentally inconsistent with Christianity. The Armaged-
don he witnessed had sprung from the absorption of the
Church by Graeco-Roman civilization over a millennium
earlier. Christianity, as a consequence, had become a "con-
forming rather than transforming" religion. It had accom-
modated to society and then splintered into denomina-
tionalism. It had failed to alter western man's essential
paganism. "The worst enemy of man now is man him-
self," he wrote, "and the science and machinery he has
developed."28 Even at the end of World War II, he cringed
at the coming atomic war for which an essentially bankrupt
"Christian Civilization" seemed to be preparing.29
Charles H. Parkhurst
Edwin E. Slosson
Eli Crumrine
13
It would be his final jeremiad. In 1947, his health broke
precipitously with the death of his wife Alice, who had
been his devoted companion and chauffeur for so many
years. Consequently Rominger, lonely and hospitalized,
became isolated from the religious debates that so long had
given definition to his life. Broken, garrulous, senile and
childless, the eccentric old radical died in a Vancouver
hospital in 1949. 30
Henry Virgil Rominger was neither an original thinker
nor an effective organizer for the Church. Naive and fre-
quently abrasive, he never found a truly receptive audience
in some 70 embittering years in the American West. His
significance lies in that very rejection. A tenacious, in-
formed foot soldier for the left wing of the Social Gospel,
Rominger refused to accept the surrender of religion to a
secular state or to secular values. Rather he sought to recap-
ture the truer, more uncompromising primitive Christianity
that he had learned of at Union and in Berlin. Individual
and Church regeneration, based on Christ's original
message, would transform society from the bottom up and
avoid the necessity of statist solutions or contaminating
compromises with evil.
In the West, as well as the rest of the country, main-
stream Americans, including most churchmen and cer-
tainly most progressives, rejected the positions he adopted
as irrelevant, impractical, probably even as un-American.
A voice in the wilderness, Rominger took pride in his con-
victions even as a conformist, rapidly modernizing society
rushed past him. At least, he must have told himself, he
had kept the faith.
1. Charles Howard Hopkins, The Rise of the Social Gospel in American
Protestantism, 1865-1915 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1940);
William G. McLoughlin, Revivals, Awakenings, and Reform: An Essay
on Religion and Social Change in America, 1607-1977 (Chicago: Univer-
sity of Chicago Press, 1978), pp. 141-178; and Henry F. May, Protes-
tant Churches and Industrial America (New York: Octagon Books, Inc.,
1963). For an excellent recent survey of progressivism, drawing heavily
on modernization theory, see John Whiteclay Chambers, II, The Ty-
ranny of Change: America in the Progressive Era, 1900-1917 (New York:
St. Martin's Press, 1980).
2. For a recent examination of Christian activism below the Mason-Dixon
line, see John Patrick McDowell, The Social Gospel in the South: The
Woman's Home Mission in the Methodist Episcopal Church, South,
1886-1939 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1982).
3. Alumni Catalogue of the Union Theological Seminary in the City of New
York, 1836-1936 (1937), p. 77; Rominger to Harold Tryon, May 22, 1946,
Rominger to C. R. Gillett, January 11, 1942, in Henry Virgil Rom-
inger Alumni File, Union Theological Seminary (RAF-UTS); Laramie
Boomerang, April 3, 1899.
4. Rominger to Gillett, January 11, 1942, RAF-UTS; "Roswell Dwight
Hitchcock," Dictionary of American Biography (New York: Charles
Scribner's Sons, 1932), pp. V, 79-80; Roswell D. Hitchcock, Socialism
(New York: Anson D. F. Randolph and Company, 1879), pp. 23, 69,
82-84. See Hopkins, The Rise of the Social Gospel, pp. 67-68 and
May, Protestant Churches and Industrial America, p. 166. Rominger
shared Hitchcock's belief that abuse of alcoholic beverages constituted
a serious impediment to social reconstruction. Hitchcock, Socialism,
p. 104; Skamania County [Washington] Pioneer, April 15, 1949.
5. Rominger to Gillett, February 15, 1939, RAF-UTS; Hopkins, The Rise
of the Social Gospel, pp. 136-137. Briggs wrote that "[o]ne of the most
distressing signs of the times is the failure of the Church to evangelize
the masses in the great cities." Charles Augustus Briggs, Whither?:
A Theological Question for the Times (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1889),
p. 2.
6. Rominger to "Snyder," April 24, 1928, Rominger to Gillett, December
29, 1943 and February 15, 1939, RAF-UTS; Hopkins, The Rise of the
Social Gospel, pp. 111-112; May, Protestant Churches and Industrial
America, p. 178; John O. Evjen, The Life of J. H. W. Stuckenberg—
Theologian— Philosopher— Sociologist (Minneapolis: Lutheran Free Church
Publishing Company, 1938), pp. 241^247.
7. Alumni Catalogue . . ., 1836-1936, pp. 77-78; Skamania County
[Washington] Pioneer, April 15, 1949; Laramie Boomerang, December
22, 1900 and April 3, 1899; Rominger to Gillett, January 11, 1942, RAF-
UTS. For Rominger's recollections of his trip to Palestine, see his lec-
ture in Laramie Republican, May 14, 1900.
8. "Charles Augustus Briggs," Dictionary of American Biography (New
York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1929) II, pp. 40-41; New York Times,
June 9, 1913; Rominger to Gillett, January 11, 1942, and Rominger
to "Snyder," April 24, 1928, RAF-UTS.
9. Laramie Boomerang, April 3, 1899; Alumni Catalogue . . ., 1836-1936,
p. 78.
10. Laramie Boomerang, April 1, 3, May 23, December 29, 1899; Seventy-
Fifth Anniversary-Union Presbyterian Church, Laramie, Wyoming,
1869-1944 (1944), pp. 11, 15, 25-26. On Hayford, see author's "Pietism
and Progress: James H. Hayford and the Wyoming Anti-Gambling
Tradition, 1869-1893," Annals of Wyoming 55 (Fall, 1983): 2-8.
11. Edith Smiley, "Pioneering with Wyoming University," (unpublished
typescript, 1936), p. 5, in American Heritage Center, University of
Wyoming, Laramie (AHC-UW).
12. Laramie Republican, December 4, 1899; Laramie Boomerang, December
29, 1899, December 10, 1900, January 12, 28, 1901.
13. Laramie Republican, March 31, 1899; William Howard Moore, "Pro-
gressivism and the Social Gospel in Wyoming: The Antigambling Act
of 1901 as a Test Case," The Western Historical Quarterly (July, 1984):
299-316; Laramie Boomerang, January 4, 1899. On the variety of "pro-
gressive" reformers in larger cities, see Samuel P. Hays, "The Politics
of Municipal Government in the Progressive Era," Pacific Northwest
Quarterly (October 1964): 157-169, Bradley Robert Rice, Progressive
Cities: The Commission Movement in America, 1901-1920 (Austin: Univer-
sity of Texas Press, 1977) and Mark H. Haller, "Civic Reformers and
Police Leadership: Chicago, 1905-1935," in Harlan Hahn, ed., Police
in Urban Society (Beverly Hills: Sage Publications, 1971), pp. 39-56.
14. Wyoming Tribune, November 21, 1899; Minutes of Laramie City Coun-
cil, November 21, 1899, Municipal Building, Laramie; Laramie
Republican, March 31, December 6, 1899; Laramie Boomerang, April 1,
1899; Charles Parkhurst, Our Fight With Tammany (New York: Charles
Scribner's Sons, 1895); Laramie Boomerang, November 22, 1899.
15. Mark Thomas Connelly, The Response to Prostitution in the Progressive
Era (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1980); Ruth
Rosen, The Lost Sisterhood: Prostitution in America, 1900-1918 (Baltimore:
14
The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1982); David C. Humphrey,
"Prostitution and Public Policy in Austin, Texas, 1870-1915,"
Southwestern Historical Quarterly (April 1983): 473-516. The C. P. Ar-
nold Papers in AHC-UW shed no light on the city attorney's quarrel
with Rominger about prostitution. His views appear to have been
similar to those of his father, the Rev. F. L. Arnold. See Thurmond
Arnold, Fair Fights and Foul: A Dissenting Lawyer's Life (New York:
Harcourt Brace and World, Inc., 1965), p. 13.
16. Anne M. Butler, Daughters of Joy, Sisters of Misery: Prostitutes in The
American West, 1865-1900 (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois
Press, 1985), p. 100; Laramie Boomerang, November 24, 1899.
17. Rominger's one available sermon in Laramie touching on prostitu-
tion turned into a Briggsian condemnation of denominationalism.
Laramie Republican, February 21, 1900. Laramie's debate over prostitu-
tion bore some similarity to that of Helena, Montana, in the 1880s.
There, older pioneer businessmen spoke for a measure of tolerance
that offended a newer group of arrivistes, who sought more
thoroughgoing moral reform based on eastern models. While a
youthful newspaper editor and newer businessmen led Helena's anti-
prostitution crusade, Laramie found its leadership with local ministers
and church women. See Paula Petrik, "Strange Bedfellows: Prostitu-
tion, Politicians, and Moral Reform in Helena, 1885-1887," Montana
The Magazine of Western History (Summer 1985): 3-13.
18. Laramie Boomerang, January 8, 10, 30, 1900; Laramie Republican, January
10, 1900. See the Methodist Rev. F. T. Krueger's sermon on "The
Social Evil" in ibid., December 18, 1899.
19. Laramie Boomerang, May 16, December 11, 13, 1900, February 11, 16, -
1901. The issue of restricting prostitution to the red light district con-
tinued to be both a local and national problem. Not until reformers
mobilized medical evidence indicating that disease spread from the
red light district into the broader community were any long term in-
roads made against the brothel. Ibid., October 12, 25, 1909, April 2,
1910; Humphrey, "Prostitution and Public Policy."
20. Minutes of Session of Union Presbyterian Church of Laramie, January
22 and April 18, 1901, Box 1, UPCL Records and E. E. Slosson
Biographical File, AHC-UW; Laramie Boomerang, April 8, 18, 1901.
21. Alumni Catalogue . . ., 1836-1936, p. 78; Rominger to Gillett, Oc-
tober 31, 1911, December 29, 1941, December 29, 1943, RAF-UTS.
22. Rominger to "Snyder," April 24, 1928, ibid.
23. Rominger to Gillett, December 29, 1941, Rominger to "Snyder," April
24, 1928, Rominger to Gillett, (?) 1925, ibid.
24. Rominger to Gillett, December 29, 1941, February 1, 1936, December
29, 1943, ibid.; Skamania County Pioneer, April 15, 1949. Many surviv-
ing progressives were uncomfortable with the New Deal. See Otis
L. Graham, Jr., An Encore for Reform: The Old Progressives and the New
Deal (New York: Oxford University Press, 1967).
25. Rominger to Gillett, December 29, 1943, Rominger to Tryon, May
22, 1946, RAF-UTS.
26. Rominger letter to editor, Hood River [Oregon] News, December 19,
1934, clipping in ibid.
27. Rominger to Gillett, February 15, 1939, ibid.
28. Rominger to Tryon, May 22, 1946, Rominger to Gillett, December
29, 1943, and undated wartime column "Musings of a Retired
Minister" in Skamania County Pioneer in ibid.
29. Rominger to Tryon, May 22, 1946, ibid. For an interesting perspec-
tive on the reaction of surviving political progressives to the
breakdown of Soviet- American cooperation, see Robert Griffith, "Old
Progressives and the Cold War," The Journal of American History
(September 1979): 334-337.
30. Rominger to Tryon, October 16, 1947, RAF-UTS; Skamania County
Pioneer, September 12, 1947, April 15, 1949.
L5
Few mountain ranges in the world inspire the sheer
awe that the Grand Tetons in Wyoming impress upon their
admirers. Descriptions that invariably include phrases like
incomparable grandeur, sheer beauty and magical only
hint at the magnificence of this unique mountain range.
It is easy to understand why visitors are repeatedly drawn
back once they have visited the Tetons.
Today, the Tetons are easily accessible via modern
highways and by air. But in 1926, the year John D. Haines
of Hominy, Oklahoma, journeyed westward to the Teton
country, conditions were much more primitive. The Grand
Teton National Park was not to be created until February
26, 1929, and in 1926 there were no paved roads, hiking
trails or park rangers.1 It was indeed a strenuous enter-
prise just to make your way to the Jackson Hole-Grand
Teton area, much less attempt to climb the mountains.
But climbing the Grand Teton 13,770 feet to its sum-
mit was John Haines' goal as he journeyed from Osage
County the summer of 1926. The first recorded climb of
the Grand Teton had been made by William O. Owen,
Franklin S. Spalding, Frank L. Petersen and John Shive
on August 11, 1898. 2 Then, inexplicably, the summit was
not again visited until 1923, 25 years later.
On August 25, 1923, three Montanans, Andy DePirro,
Quin A. Blackburn and Dave DeLap made their successful
ascent of the Grand.3 From August, 1923, until August,
1926, a handful of other parties made ascents of the Grand
Teton. It was Haines' hope to join this elite group of
pioneer mountaineers who had climbed the Grand. Al-
though Haines had no previous mountaineering experi-
ence and little equipment, he possessed an ample supply
of determination. The 28 year old electrician from Hominy
was also in excellent physical condition for the strenuous
climb.
In 1926 the Teton country was still virgin wilderness
with numerous of its glorious canyons unexplored and
most of its peaks unclimbed. As the highest of the peaks
in the range, the Grand Teton was the peak that naturally
attracted the interest of the mountaineers. The Grand has
been described as so exceptional as to be conceded a place
among the world's great peaks.4
After arriving in the Jackson Hole area, Haines made
camp on beautiful Jenny Lake at the base of the Grand
Teton. It was Haines' good fortune to become acquainted
with Fritioff M. Fryxell, a young man of 26 years from Il-
linois who had recently completed graduate work in col-
lege and was searching for a topic for his doctoral disserta-
tion in geology. Fryxell had first visited the Tetons in 1924
while searching for a research problem on the subject of
mountain glaciation.5 The Tetons provided the solution to
Fryxell's quest.
John D
Oklahoma'
by Joe D. Haines, Jr., M.D.
16
riaines
Honeer Mountaineer in the Tetons
17
Fryxell spent the three successive summers from 1926-
1929 working on his doctorate and in 1929 was offered the
position of Park Naturalist in the newly created national
park, thus becoming the park's first ranger.6 Fryxell later
went on to become the major contributor to the under-
standing of the geology of the area as well as becoming
the most eloquent spokesman for the unique mountain
range.
In August, 1926, Haines and Fryxell decided to make
an ascent of the Grand Teton, taking the traditional route
pioneered by the Owen party in 1898. In fact, it was not
until 1929 that mountaineers began attempting alternate
routes in reaching the summit of the Grand Teton. So,
early one August morning Haines and Fryxell began their
ascent. The climb went well until around noon when the
weather turned against the two climbers. Rain and snow
alternated as the mountain created its own weather and
the cold rocks became difficult to hold onto. The two men
continued onward, however, until they reached a horizon-
tal ledge about 600 feet from the top. By following the ledge
around the northwest precipice of the peak one can reach
the base of a succession of chimneys which extend the re-
maining distance to the top.7
Along a twenty foot stretch of the ledge it becomes less
than three feet wide and even less high, through which
one "coons" or wriggles like a snake, unable to rise even
to the elbows.8 Thus this narrow ledge is known as the
Cooning Place and its traverse is safe by reason of the in-
ward slope of the ledge. The Cooning Place is a definite
high point of the climb since one can dangle his arm out
toward the brink of a 3,000 foot abyss.9
As John Haines described:
Mr. F. M. Fryxell and I climbed to a height of 13,246 feet. We
both made it up to the Cooning Place. There Mr. Fryxell stopped
and I went on up over the (Cooning) rock and above maybe 75 or
100 feet in altitude. Up there I could see Mr. Fryxell and he motioned
with his arms and hands for me to come back down.
I will say that I was in no mood to go any further on account
of the weather. Rain, snow, ice cold rocks then sunshine all in the
space of a few minutes. We stopped climbing at 12 o'clock noon.
We traced back down to First Saddle (between the Grand and Mid-
dle Tetons— elevation 11,600 feet) and on down Bradley Canyon.
We kept going all afternoon and until about 4:30 a.m. the next
morning before we reached camp on Jenny Lake, two tired and sore-
footed climbers. The return trip took a lot of skin off our toes and
legs. We would take our boots off and put our feet in the cold moun-
tain streams— then our feet and legs would burn.10
As Fryxell later noted, "The snow and ice we en-
countered above the upper saddle were most unpleasant
and scary."11
The two men had come within a mere 500 feet of the
13,770 foot summit, but they were to be denied their
ultimate goal on this outing. Three months later Fryxell
corresponded with Haines saying:
Do you expect to get back to the Teton next summer? I am quite
sure that I will, probably for the whole summer. I have decided to
work my doctorate thesis on the range so I will no doubt get my fill
of mountaineering. I wish we could get together on a trip or two,
say on another try at the Grand Teton. I won't be satisfied until I
get to the top.12
This old snapshot, lent by the author shows Haines'
camp at Jenny Lake.
18
Although Haines never returned to the Tetons to make
another attempt at the Grand, Fryxell returned many times
and ultimately made at least one ascent of every peak in
the range. Whether this noteworthy feat has ever been
duplicated is unknown to the author, but it involved ten
successive summers of climbing (1926-1935) and a number
of trips back to the Tetons after 1935. 13 The 1926 attempt
by Haines and Fryxell was both men's first serious ven-
ture into the range. Fryxell followed with perhaps 50 or
60 other trips (by his own estimate), mostly climbs and
surely a record of distinction by the standards of any era.14
As Fryxell later recalled of John Haines:
He was a tough, resourceful climber, and a pleasant, uncomplain-
ing companion. Poorly equipped as we were, and with no trails or
detailed information about the route, we did well to get as far as we
did. And later experiences in the Tetons convinced me that we were
wise to turn back when we did.
That summer (1926) was my fourth devoted to hiking in the West.
I was very fit. So was (Haines). He was much hardier than most of
the men I climbed with later.15
And so, John Haines of Hominy nearly became the first
Oklahoman to ascend the Grand Teton. It is a pity that
he did not respond to Fryxell's invitation at trying the
mountain again. Perhaps more pressing matters in Osage
County diverted Haines' attention or perhaps he was
satisfied in coming as close as they did. We will never
know, but the 1926 climb is now a mere footnote in the
history of America's most remarkable mountain range.
Haines, on the right, and an unidentified
companion in the park. The automobile
appears to be a Chevrolet.
1. F. M. Fryxell, Mountaineering in the Tetons— The Pioneer Period 1898-
1940 (Jackson, Wyoming: The Teton Bookshop, 1978).
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. F. M. Fryxell, The Tetons Interpretations of a Mountain Landscape (Moose,
Wyoming: Grand Teton National History Association, 1984).
6. Ibid.
7. Fryxell, Mountaineering in the Tetons.
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid.
10. John D. Haines, personal notes.
11. F. M. Fryxell, personal correspondence.
12. Ibid.
13. Ibid.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid.
N
NATIVISM IN WYOMING
1 868 to 1 930:
Changing Perceptions of
Foreign Immigrants
by
Lawrence A. Cardoso
A grant from the Wyoming Council for the Humanities made
possible the research for this study. The author thanks the Council
for its support.
20
Nativism intensified rapidly in Wyoming in the early
20th century. This complex set of ideas was an essentially
conservative attempt to safeguard the status quo against
abrupt changes by reviving traditional beliefs and values.
Motivated primarily by patriotism, nativists practiced a
defensive nationalism which sought to preserve ideas and
institutions of high value to them and denigrate anything
perceived as a danger to those cherished things. Nativists
saw unassimilated foreign-born immigrants who were not
citizens of the United States as a potent internal enemy.
By definition, because of their suspect racial, religious and
political backgrounds, the newcomers were obstacles in the
pathway of national purification.
This anti-foreign impulse ebbed and flowed after the
Civil War. Particularly in bad economic times nativists
questioned the advisibility of allowing unrestricted im-
migration, especially from countries in southern and
eastern Europe. These periods, however, were brief and
did not see the end of immigration. Most Americans con-
tinued to believe in the ultimate assimilation of immigrants
because of the strength of the general environment in
Americanizing recent arrivals. It was the outbreak of World
War I in 1914, well before the United States became a
belligerent in April, 1917, that saw nativist sentiment come
to be the dominant viewpoint. Disruptive changes during
the wartime period caused massive internal migration from
rural to urban areas as many sought to take advantage of
war-induced prosperity. Millions of men left their homes
for military service. Federal control over the economy ac-
celerated. During the immediate postwar period the cock-
iness of domestic radicals, depression, Bolshevik revolu-
tions in Europe and increasing labor strife on the home
front served to underscore the real and supposed dangers
of rapid and unregulated change. Nativists lashed out at
America's immigrant population as part of their campaign
to impose order on the national polity and lessen domestic
turmoil. This national tide of fear and paranoia resulted
in increasingly restrictive federal immigration laws and
massive efforts to speed up the assimilation of resident
foreigners through coercion. Gone forever was the pre-
sumption of voluntary Americanization.
Wyoming opinion leaders followed these national
trends beginning with the creation of the territory in 1868.
They generally welcomed immigrants from all parts of the
world before 1914 in the belief that the unassimilated
would quickly rise to local standards of language, culture
and patriotism in their new environment. Local expecta-
tions in these early days strongly resisted a gloomy, fear-
ful national body of thought which challenged European
immigration. The pre-war years from 1914 to 1917 saw a
dramatic turn around in the depth and intensity of nativism
in the Cowboy State. This change stemmed from the belief
that large numbers of immigrants comprised a fifth column
which would ultimately destroy Wyoming society. The
validity of the "melting pot" concept, an earlier premise
which underlaid a benign view of the newcomers, came
under increasing attack. The United States' entry into the
war in April, 1917, intensified these qualms. Post-war
economic instability and the sensational "Red Scare" of
1921 and 1922 kept negativism toward the foreign-born at
a fever pitch and accelerated the desire for a homogeneous
nationalism. Wyoming joined this nativist mainstream of
the "tribal twenties," and avidly supported the national
consensus which shut the door on immigration. Local
elites, with the apparent blessings of popular opinion,
sponsored and enforced state legislation which sought the
forced assimilation of the foreigner in Wyoming. Despite the
traditional view of historians that local people welcomed
all immigrants well into the 20th century with only sporadic
reservations, a close examination of our sources reveals that
this was not the case.1
The newly established territory of Wyoming was hun-
gry for population after its founding in 1868. Boosters from
both the public and private sectors sought large-scale im-
migration in the belief that areas far from the Union Pa-
cific Railroad line of settlements would fill up with in-
dustrious farmers and mechanics.2 J. H. Triggs in his
History of Cheyenne and Northern Wyoming sought to attract
an "intelligent and moral class" of settlers. Years later,
thinking back to his two terms as territorial governor, Fran-
cis E. Warren noted that Wyoming in the 19th century
"needed all the good, honorable settlers it could get."3
These high hopes of rapid economic development
drew little distinction between native-born and foreign-
born immigrants. The quest for families to plow the soil,
tend the flocks, work the mines and build the cities dic-
tated that all men and women were welcome as long as
they contributed to the creation of the new commonwealth.
Indeed, the dismal performance of the local economy dur-
ing the first few decades further clouded the importance
of the newcomers' origins. Germans, wrote an editorialist
for the Cheyenne Daily Leader in 1868, brought much-needed
"industry, thrift, intelligence and an enthusiastic devotion
to democratic institutions." Immigrants from other areas
of western and northern Europe, such places as the British
Isles, Holland and Scandinavia, were similarly welcomed
as additional sources of strength for the new western
society.4
The radical shift in immigrant origins after 1890 did lit-
tle at first to alter local perceptions of foreigners. Millions
of people from southern and eastern Europe began to cross
the Atlantic after that date in pursuit of better lives. By the
turn of the century these "new" immigrants, as historians
have labeled them, comprised four-fifths of all entrants into
the United States. Their numbers would total 25,000,000
by 1914. Russians, Poles, Greeks, Italians and others, were
:i
Territorial Governor
Francis E. Warren
advocated immigration of
good honorable settlers
to Wyoming.
markedly different from those "old" immigrants who came
here before 1890. For the most part of the Catholic and
Jewish faiths, they came from societies which did not share
the political traditions of the United States and nations of
northern and western Europe. Their homelands' heritages
were ones of political turbulence and autocratic rule. Many
of them were desperately poor. From cultures still in the
pre-industrial age, these often swarthy-skinned immigrants
lacked many elemental skills which would have led to
quick success in the United States. Instead, almost all of
them were suited only for unskilled, low-paying jobs. They
seemed to be light years removed from the lifestyles, tradi-
tions and promises of most Americans and immigrants
who had come from other parts of Europe.5
The arrival of large numbers of Italians, Slavs and
others from southern and eastern Europe caused great
alarm on the national level soon after they began arriving
after 1890. The Dictionary of Races or Peoples, published in
1911 as part of an extensive federal investigation chaired
by Senator Dillingham of Vermont, spelled out nativist
fears. Eastern Europeans, it was claimed, were cruel,
ferocious and untrustworthy because of irrational swings
of mood. Since many of them came from areas subject to
Russian control, they had no understanding of self-
government or the prerequisites for that form of rule.
Italians, most of them from the southern part of their
homeland, were even worse. Over the course of history
there had been almost no admixture of Teutonic blood; in-
stead, the area's population had distant African ante-
cedents, rendering this group of people incapable of any
sort of progress. Many personal vices resulted from this
historical and biological evolution. In the eyes of nativists,
Italians would always remain prone to crime, dependent
on charity, vengeful, superstitious and illiterate; in short,
not the sort of people who could contribute to the progress
of the United States.6
These individual pathologies caused many well known
social problems for their new homeland. New immigrants
refused to spread themselves out over the entire country,
so as to ease their assimilation, and remained congregated
in a few urban areas in the Northeast. These large com-
munities of illiterate and inarticulate people were easy prey
for corrupt political bosses. High rates of poverty, crime,
vice and disease also characterized these eastern slums.
Huddled together as they were, they seemed to be an un-
digestible lump, a foreign growth, which would threaten
and then destroy American culture. All facets of society
were at the mercy of this internal cancer: religion, law,
politics, rules of comportment, customs and other cher-
ished traditions. In order to thwart these internal dangers,
members of the Dillingham Commission recommended the
use of a literacy test for would-be immigrants. In this way,
the concentrations of foreigners in eastern cities could
gradually be reduced and the nation saved.7
22
John W. Hoyt, a Territorial
Governor and later University
President. His prayers for
statehood included the assurance
that Wyomingites were of the
very best class of citizens.
Wyoming's leaders thought they had a more effective
way to deal with these problems than the restriction of im-
migration. Far removed from the East's nagging problems
and mounting nativism and evermindful of slow economic
development, local boosters believed their new society
could solve national ills by transforming the newcomers—
almost magically— into good Americans. Wyomingites had
a limitless faith in the ability of the frontier environment
to assimilate foreigners, whatever their origins. They
placed their faith in the precepts of a common humanity,
equal rights and confidence that the system could rectify
any difficulties. Whether this self-image was true or not
was beside the point. Many believed it was true, and then
proceeded to act on the belief. As John W. Hoyt expressed
these ideas in his prayer for admission into the Union,
Wyomingites were "of the very best class of American
citizens, having come from the most enlightened portions
of the United States and Europe." The loyalty, patriotism
and love of liberty of the territory's people, wrote Gover-
nor Francis E. Warren, "have not been decreased but in-
creased by the hardships and dangers that have been en-
dured and by the difficulties that have been encountered
and overcome in laying the foundation."8
Coupled with this strong faith in the environment was
an optimistic image of European immigrants. As was true
of Americans on the whole before 1914, Wyomingites saw
the newcomers as energetic, hardy and yearning to become
good citizens. Italians, Greeks, Slavs and others would
assimilate quickly and adopt the Wyoming self-image be-
cause that was what they desired. All were Americans in
the making. The local educational establishment would
help guide this process through a chauvinistic presen-
tation of the nation's history to the newcomers' children,
but that was what the immigrants wanted. The Old World
would soon be forgotten in preference for the New.9
To be sure, as was true for the rest of the United States,
stereotypes about southern and eastern Europeans existed
in Wyoming among local opinion molders. Italians were
thought to be addicted to the vice of gambling; Slavs re-
ceived their full share of negative imagery from the local
press; other immigrants were said to suffer from defects
in their mental and physical makeup. Local newspapers
blithely used terms such as "paddy green" and "dago
pink" in their columns. On occasion the hyperbole of local
editorial writers matched anything found in the nation.
G. S. Walker of the Wyoming Industrial Journal, for exam-
ple, opined in 1900, when it appeared that China's Boxer
Rebellion might lead to violence against Orientals in local
mining camps, that most immigrants were "of the worth-
less, never-work, anarchistic type and should be turned
back from our shores."10
Despite this evidence of negative attitudes, there was
no campaign of sustained and systematic nativist agitation
in Wyoming during the period from 1868 to 1914. Members
23
of the local elite, whether newspaper editors, politicians,
local boosters for economic growth or community leaders,
have left no evidence of organized restrictionist sentiment
during the period. The Immigration Restriction League, so
powerful from the 1890s onward in other parts of the coun-
try because of the public support of many notable public
figures, did not exist in Wyoming. No outpouring of sup-
port by the elite can be found for random, spontaneous
anti-foreign outbursts. What incidents there were coincided
with times of economic stress when the newcomers pro-
vided handy scapegoats for general malaise. It is impor-
tant to note here the circumstances of the infamous Rock
Springs Massacre of 1885. After white employees of the
Union Pacific Coal Department murdered 28 Chinese
workers, Governor Warren moved quickly to call in federal
troops so as to restore order, protect property and prevent
the further loss of immigrants lives. During the depres-
sion of the early 1890s Populist leader Shakespeare E. Sealy
denounced foreign laborers, saying they deprived native-
born workers of available jobs. At about the same time the
American Protective Association, whose members saw a
Catholic conspiracy to subvert and conquer representative
government in the United States, was particularly effec-
tive in local elections against the two major established par-
ties in Cheyenne and Laramie, but had little long-lasting
influence over the electorate. The frustration and disillu-
sionment caused by the Panic of 1893 even caused the state
legislature to memorialize the Congress to restrict "in-
The Rock Springs Massacre. An
extreme example of anti-foreign
outburst.
discriminate irnmigration that now threatens to overwhelm
the nation." These manifestations of nativism doubtlessly
represented only a small part of what was a deep-felt
popular resentment against immigrants in Wyoming, par-
ticularly during times when laboring men and women
keenly felt job competition with foreigners. But the inar-
ticulate found no sustained support from any segment of
Wyoming's elite. That would not come until well after the
turn of the century. For the time being prior to 1914, grass
roots grievances died with their immediate economic
causes by the end of the 19th century.11
Nor did the laws of Wyoming before 1914 indicate
substantial sanctions against local non-citizens. Article XIX
of the state constitution of 1890 forbade the employment
of foreign citizens by state, county or municipal govern-
ments, but this provision was simply copied from similar
documents in nearby states without discussion on the part
of constitutional delegates. Delegates also adopted a
literacy requirement for suffrage. "We refuse [the fran-
chise] to the illiterate because they are incompetent
voters," said John W. Hoyt. Wyoming must not be
"flooded by people from the old world, without
24
Charles L. Vagner, rancher, merchant and
member of the constitutional convention of 1889.
knowledge of our institutions, without ability to read our
constitution, or without ability to govern themselves." The
purpose of this barrier was twofold. First and foremost,
the men who wrote this basic document wished to end the
manipulation of foreigners' votes by local political
machines. Secondly, the literacy test was at best only a
temporary obstacle to full immigrant participation in
Wyoming politics. The delegates assumed the ready and
willing desire of the foreign-born to assimilate and literacy
was part and parcel of Americanism.12
Only one law dealt specifically with the foreign-born
before 1914. This piece of legislation, passed in 1887, pro-
hibited the inducement of immigration through means of
a prior contract; that is, an employer could not invite
workers from a foreign land through promises of employ-
ment. Based on a federal law of 1885, this territorial statute
was an attempt to deny employers the use of low-paid
strikebreakers. Its purpose was more to ease labor strife
and uphold the standard of living of American citizens than
to discriminate against non-natives.13 It is instructive to
note here another example of this early period's mild ethnic
and racial nativism. Despite strong prejudices against
Asians and other non-whites, Wyoming editorial writers
and politicians strongly criticized legislation from 1869
which prohibited interracial marriages, arguing that this
ban would discourage the territory's population growth.
This law was repealed in 1882 by a large legislative ma-
jority.14
Meyer Frank, one of the founders of Newcastle
and three times its Mayor.
The economic success and rapid assimilation of most
early immigrants from overseas offered the most convinc-
ing proof of their innate abilities and desire to Americanize.
Many of the "old" immigrants originated in the British
Isles or had lived elsewhere in the United States before
coming to Wyoming. This meant that the majority of the
newcomers were familiar with the English language and
already partially assimilated when they arrived. Several
cases in point, of many which could be singled out, indicate
this early pattern. Charles L. Vagner, born in Denmark in
1849, first settled in Illinois and later came to Wyoming
where he operated an extensive network of mercantile,
banking and ranching interests. He was later appointed
to the Board of Trustees of the University of Wyoming and
elected to the state constitutional convention in 1889 to
represent Carbon County. Meyer Frank, another member
of the convention, was born in Germany in 1854. In the
1880s Frank helped found and build Newcastle. Local
citizens saw fit to elect him their mayor for three terms.
Lawrence R. Bresnahen was a native of Ireland. He came
to Cheyenne from New York state and opened a retail store
in 1867. Bresnahen represented Laramie County in the
Fourth Territorial Legislature in 1875, and later served four
terms as Cheyenne's mayor. Eugene Amoretti, Jr., al-
though born in South Pass in 1871, was the son of Italian
immigrants who came to Wyoming in 1868. Amoretti had
extensive business interests in Fremont County and later
served in a variety of city and county offices.15
25
Eugene Amoretti— Fremont County merchant
and politician.
These and other success stories on the part of im-
migrants led many Wyomingites to believe they could help
solve the social problems associated with the presence of
large numbers of new arrivals in eastern cities. Pro-
immigration spokesmen, attempting to counter national
nativistic patterns, sought to continue America's role as
a haven for the world's oppressed. In their search for con-
tinuity they supported a variety of organizations which
were designed to distribute immigrants more evenly over
the face of the land. In this way immigrants, deprived of
the constant reinforcement of old country ways as mem-
bers of a subculture, would quickly assimilate once they
were immersed in a general American population. Gover-
nor Joseph M. Carey became a charter member of the
American Immigration and Distribution League of New
York City, seeking to further the "sacred duty" of keep-
ing America the land of open immigration. Carey's pre-
decessor, Bryant B. Brooks, urged the pro-immigration
Split Ticket Association of Cleveland, Ohio, to keep Wyo-
ming in mind as a final destination for its clients.16
The state's heady prosperity during the period from
the Spanish-American war to 1914, although not as
vigorous as many had hoped, gave yet more impetus to
attract foreigners. Governors of the period represented a
wide consensus on the desirability of this policy. Editorial
opinion held that if the state could attract a critical mass
of immigrants, word-of-mouth advertising would then take
on a momentum of its own and ensure the continuing ar-
rival of thousands of Europeans. Intense support from the
private sector complemented public policy. Rancher Frank
C. Bosler of Rock River spearheaded this campaign when
he created the Wyoming Publicity Association in 1911. A
statewide immigration convention, held in Cheyenne in
January, 1911, drew representatives from all parts of the
state. Bosler called this meeting "very satisfactory and en-
thusiastic." Members of the Association included Carey
and his son Robert, John B. Kendrick of Sheridan and
Patrick J. Quealey of Lincoln County.17
These strenuous public and private efforts had mixed
results, but they do show the commitment of local leaders
to attract as many "new" immigrants as possible. Roy
Schenck, Carey's Commissioner of Immigration, actively
sought to attract Russian Jews. State government co-
operated with federal agencies to spread immigrants
throughout the land. Schenck's office supported the trans-
lation of federal promotional literature into several foreign
languages, hoping this would draw southern and eastern
Europeans out of festering eastern slums. In 1912 Schenck,
with Carey's backing, unsuccessfully sought an appropria-
tion to hire an agent in New York City to greet new ar-
rivals just off the boat, all the while extolling the virtues
of the Cowboy State.18
The thousands of "new" immigrants who flocked to
the state as a result of these private and public efforts
presented local people with a decidedly different type of
inhabitant. Few had lived elsewhere in the United States
for any period of time. Virtually none of them knew
English or were acquainted with the rudiments of the Amer-
ican way of life. These characteristics set them off sharply
from the earlier "old" arrivals. When members of the Dill-
ingham Commission surveyed 1,751 miners in Sweetwater
and Uinta Counties in 1908, they found that few of the
newcomers could communicate with their fellow workers.
Moreover, employers believed that Italians, Greeks and
Montenegrins (from what is now Yugoslavia) were
"tricky," undependable and unsuited for supervisory or
other responsible positions. Employers preferred to place
their trust only in native-born or northern European work-
ers. Much the same negative sentiments were in evidence
in the case of Klaus Sevcik, a native of what is now
Czechoslovakia. In what must have been another mani-
festation of popular resentment, local people, according
to Ted Olson in his memoirs, widely regarded Sevcik as
a johnny-come-lately, making fun of his rudimentary,
thickly-accented English and the supposed sluggishness
of his character. None of these nativist qualms, however,
extended to the immigrants' children, since they were
educated in the pure mountain air of Wyoming and re-
ported as more enlightened and progressive (meaning
assimilated) than their parents. Before 1914 this view of
the new arrivals simply did not extend to the second
generation.19 It would take wider events and greater fears
26
for state and national safety to have these ideas become
more generalized so as to make Wyoming leaders discard
all hope for the immigrants and their children.
The outbreak of World War I in Europe in August,
1914, provided these necessary ingredients. The war's in-
herent tensions and insecurities brought to a head and
defined a more general concern many Americans felt about
their country's traditions, values and ideals. This perceived
disorganization brought about pressure to reform condi-
tions so as to return to the "good old days" of the pre-1890
period. Immigrants were singled out as one of the many
forces which had corrupted the country. Wyomingites
shared these concerns and saw several additional local
problems. Many inhabitants of the state agreed with
Governor Kendrick who feared that the "tide of home-
seekers" pouring into the state would eventually lessen
the importance of the livestock industry. Immigrants, a
very noticeable part of this tide prior to the outbreak of
war, thus became a danger to the status quo. Would-be
reformers in Wyoming consciously built on local anxieties
in order to further their causes. Concern over regional
political differences, entrenched islands of privilege and
the seeming pervasive existence of sin and corruption, all
said to frustrate the full potential of growth and prosper-
ity, laid a firm groundwork for efforts to clean up the state
and enforce some version of moral regeneration. As was
true of many other Americans, Wyomingites vaguely but
increasingly saw the unassimilated as an obstruction to the
long-awaited heaven on earth.20
The immediate, precipitating cause of the flowering of
nativism in Wyoming was the hope that the United States
would avoid entanglement in the conflict. If European na-
tions willingly and eagerly sought to spill the blood and
destroy the treasure of their neighbors in the pursuit of
selfish national aims, let it be so; the United States could
serve its own best interests by adhering to a policy of strict
neutrality. Widespread fears swept the state, however, that
members of immigrant communities hoped for victory on
the part of their original homelands. This indicated divided
loyalty, by definition disloyalty. President Woodrow
Wilson set the tone of these nativist fears in 1915 when
he sought repressive legislation designed to deal with those
"who have poured the poison of disloyalty into the very
arteries of our national life . . . Such creatures of passion,
disloyalty, and anarchy must be crushed out."21
Many Wyomingites certainly saw a clear and present
danger close at home. Many counties, a special state cen-
sus of 1915 showed, had achieved an uncomfortably high
percentage of foreign-born. Almost one-half of Sweetwater
County's population had been born overseas; Carbon
County had more than one-fourth foreign-born. These
ethnic enclaves, formerly so eagerly sought after and
gleefully welcomed, were now said to be enemies lodged
in the very bosom of one of the purest bastions of American
democracy. Cora Wanamaker, editor and publisher of the
Rock Springs Rocket, despite her earlier praise of all im-
migrants as Americans-in-the-making, decried the new-
comers' illiteracy and ignorance of the English language
and, above all, their lack of support for strict neutrality.22
An editorialist for the Casper Record thought it necessary
to remind local immigrants to lend their stern support to
President Wilson's policy of neutrality. Other newspaper
writers issued similar calls for the conformity of undiluted
Americanism. "We used to think," read an editorial in the
Laramie Semi-Weekly Boomerang, "that foreigners came here
because they fled from things they disliked, to the things
they loved. This is no longer so." This editorial, reprinted
from the Denver Express, showed that Wyoming was
rapidly joining the radically changing body of national
opinion.23
American entry into the war in April, 1917, heightened
and intensified nativists' demands for conformity. Anti-
German outbursts have been extensively detailed else-
where by historians. Local authorities banned the teaching
of the German language; German-language books were
"Vigilance committees in Basin, Thermopolis,
Lander, Douglas, Powell, Cheyenne and
elsewhere kept watch on suspected agents of
the Kaiser, thought to be in all parts of
Wyoming."
burned in public ceremonies. Vigilance committees in
Basin, Thermopolis, Lander, Douglas, Powell, Cheyenne
and elsewhere, kept watch on suspected agents of the
Kaiser, thought to be in all parts of Wyoming. Cheyenne's
local patriots carried the war effort to its logical extreme
when they compiled a "warmth of patriotism" index for
that city's inhabitants.24
These spectacular incidents were only a surface mani-
festation of a vehement and rapidly building nativist con-
sensus directed against all foreigners, whatever their
origin. This prism of paranoia was greatly strengthened
by federal officials who brilliantly exploited the swelling
nativist tide. Film makers in Hollywood, for example,
poured forth at the urging of Woodrow Wilson's govern-
ment a steady stream of motion pictures which touted bla-
tant nationalism and pictured the United States as the
saviour of western civilization. No attempt was made to
understand those who for real or imaginary reasons were
not totally supportive of the war effort. George Creel's
Committee for Public Information bombarded Americans
with propaganda which further exacerbated pre-war uncer-
tainty about the immigrants as an obstacle to national
policy. In addition, the new science of psychology
27
"proved"— by testing procedures and assumptions which
were completely discredited in subsequent years— the in-
born inferiority of immigrant men who volunteered for ser-
vice in the armed forces. Almost 70 percent of Polish-born
inductees, to give only one example here, were assigned
a test grade of "D," indicating a mental age of 7 to 11 years.
The entire nation, it was loudly proclaimed, was in im-
mediate and extreme danger because of the presence of
these dullards. Instead of viewing the large number of im-
migrant volunteers as proof of loyalty to their new home-
land, nativists used this group of men as guinea pigs in
experiments to provide data for already-held negative
stereotypes.25
Wyoming's elites did what they could on the state level
to maintain nativism at a fever pitch. Representative Frank
W. Mondell saw our internal heterogeneity as a grave
obstacle to the winning of the war. Organized labor, also
anxious to form and enforce a unanimous and "correct"
opinion unsullied by foreign pollution, created a state
chapter of the American Alliance for Labor and Democracy
to ferret out and remove disloyal workers from their posts.
Newspapers such as the Sheridan Post cried for an end to
unwarranted tolerance of the local foreign-born. It was high
time to rake the local population with a fine-tooth comb
so that "everything that looks, smells or tastes of treason
[can] be taken in hand and fumigated and punished." In
more prosaic terms, apparently not concerned with the
28
danger of inciting nativist mobs, the same newspaper
warned miners in nearby coal camps to "stand by the flag
or get punched."26 Other sources by local opinion molders,
showing they were quickly catching up with what may
have been dominant popular opinion for some time, issued
dire predictions of military defeat and ensuing Bolshevik
revolution if the seething, illiterate, treasonous groups of
immigrants in Wyoming were allowed to retain their old
country ways. Indeed, the "race suicide" of the Anglo-
Saxon in America in the face of a raging Latin and Slavic
presence was about to occur before the very eyes of Wyo-
mingites. Evil foreigners "were and are anti-social in their
instincts. They cared neither for good government nor for
freedom and liberty save to subvert all order." The notion
of "race suicide," first put forth by sociologist Edward
Allsworth Ross in the early part of the century as one of
the red flags of the national nativist movement, had come
to be part of the Wyoming mindset. The war had spawned
a belief in a looming racial Armageddon.27 Something had
to be done to stave off disaster.
Frank Mondell viewed internal
heterogeneity as a grave obstacle
to victory in World War I.
"We are 100 per cent American in the State of Wyo-
ming, and we are going to remain 100 per cent American."
Acting Governor Frank Houx's proclamation in 1918 rep-
resented the near-universal support for the One Hundred
Percent Americanism movement in the state. The essence
of wartime nativism, this grass-roots movement preached
near-religious support of the war effort, and in the pro-
cess expressed great apprehension over all foreigners in the
land, not only those from Germany. Local elites, before
the war avid supporters of immigration to Wyoming in the
causes of national salvation and state economic develop-
ment, now preached the dangers of the Balkanization of
the country. Harrison C. Dale, Professor of Political Science
at the University of Wyoming, in his Lincoln's Birthday
address of 1918 issued a clarion call for what he called
America's "fundamentals of citizenship." They must
"transcend race, and [their] ideals must be so high that
ancient animosities and hereditary loyalties cannot com-
pete with them, or divide the allegiance which they de-
mand." Throughout the state local leaders sought the
quick creation of these nativist groups, agreeing with an
editorialist of the Douglas Budget who believed "there is
room in every community for such a club and the indica-
tions are that practically every community will have one."28
Defensive nationalism's cry for conformity intensified
after the end of the war in November, 1918. All of Europe
appeared to be slipping into anarchism and revolution, far
removed from the stated wartime goal of making the world
SUNRISE, WYOMING MINERS
Mines and railroads offered employment to large groups of immigrants from varied ethnic backgrounds.
When they went on strike, nativists overreacted, riots broke out and federal troops were called in
to restore law and order.
UNION PACIFIC RAILROAD WORKERS
29
safe for democracy. Bolshevik rule gripped Russia; bloody
attempts were made to spread this form of government
to other areas of the continent. Numerous undeclared wars
broke out as various nations attempted to secure territory
thrown up for grabs by the postwar fluidity of demarca-
tion lines. To forestall radical efforts in the United States
witch-hunting, a holy war to return America to "nor-
malcy," gripped the land. All who failed to acknowledge
the perfection of America had to be imperfect themselves
during the Red Scare. Officialdom harassed and arbitrar-
ily deported many of the foreign-born to remove the
bacillus of contamination. The immigrant thus remained
a focal point of fear for the future.29 *
Events in Wyoming gave proof to many that the end
might be close at hand at home. The quick collapse of war-
time prosperity in 1919 brought disastrous changes to the
Cowboy State. Many businesses went bankrupt. Homes,
farms and ranches were lost to mortgage holders; bank
failures mounted. The Great Depression of the 1930s had
struck a full decade before its effects were felt in the rest
of the nation. Resulting labor unrest, seen by nativists as
the cutting edge of foreign radicalism's advance, mounted.
In April and November, 1919, 7,000 miners went on strike,
closing all the state's coal mines. State authorities, fearful
of violence, declared martial law and called in federal
troops to ensure law and order. In July, 1922, 3,500 railroad
workers struck, putting hundreds of trains out of service
and giving rise to two riots in Sheridan. In 1919, organized
labor began to create a State Labor Party.30 Union inten-
tions, coming as they did at the height of the Red Scare
and representing the wishes of many foreign-born work-
ers, led to great fears for the status quo. Governor Robert
D. Carey, expecting the worst, told the legislature in 1919
that "the time may come when [anarchists] will invade
"Wyoming" in order to assist in the destruction of the
established order. Carey requested anti-radical legislation,
but action on his bill was postponed indefinitely. Pre-
sumably, it was believed that federal authorities had the
situation well in hand.31
Numerous incidents from the postwar period further
indicate how deeply and quickly nativism had embedded
itself in the minds of leading Wyomingites. Mrs. Frank W.
Mondell, President of the National Society of the Children
of the American Revolution, like virtually all of the state's
Joseph M. Carey (top) advocated keeping the
U.S. open to immigration, while his son, Robert
(bottom) feared an anarchist invasion of
Wyoming.
30
Charles E. Winter (top) blamed lack of support
for Prohibition on the foreign-born. Governor
William B. Ross supported deportation of im-
migrants who violated liquor laws.
residents, blamed the war for exposing terrible fissures in
American society. Yet, thankfully, the alarms raised had
revealed the exact causes of these disruptions. Social prob-
lems could be laid for the most part on the door of the im-
migrant, most of whom showed a "regrettable lack of
regard for custom, for law and for religion." Representative
Charles E. Winter, Mondell's successor, blamed lack of
popular support for Prohibition on the hyphenate Amer-
ican who refused to let go of Old World customs which glori-
fied the social uses of alcohol. In a similar vein, Governor
William B. Ross wanted the federal government to bar from
citizenship and deport all of the foreign-born who had been
convicted of violating anti-liquor laws. In this way, Ross
alleged, moral Americans would then respect their moral
laws. Further attempts to Americanize Wyoming can be
seen in the new policy of the State Board of Immigration.
The Board, in an abrupt departure from its pre-1914 policies
and philosophy, sought only "the better class of American
citizens" beginning in 1923. As late as 1930 Mary N.
Brooks, wife of former Governor Bryant Brooks who had
been an ardent proponent of building a cosmopolitan
citizenry during his term as chief executive, sought to un-
cover what she thought to be extensive Bolshevik infiltra-
tion at the University of Wyoming and public schools
throughout the area. She suggested a loyalty oath to the
state and federal constitutions as a way of ferreting out
subversives. State leaders had moved solidly into the camp
of fear and uncertainty when they looked at things
foreign.32
Ku Klux Klan activity in Wyoming gave an important
indication of nativism at another level of the state's popula-
tion. While the Klan never achieved the strength in Wyo-
ming that it did in many other states, organizers certainly
thought there was much potential here. In late 1924 Im-
perial Wizard Hiram Evans, on a tour of western areas,
established a chapter in Casper. Meeting in local Odd
Fellows Halls and Masonic temples, the Klan provided
reinforcement for the faithful. In Cheyenne the Klan's
women's auxiliary was incorporated in December, 1924,
for the purpose of "furthering American principles and
ideals and institutions." Only "white, female persons . . .
of American birth" were eligible for membership. Else-
where, Klan members burned crosses and harassed the
foreign-born in sporadic campaigns and their efforts may
have been decisive in defeating Catholic Joseph C.
O'Mahoney in the Democratic primary of 1924.33
31
Radical KKK Nativists may have caused Catholic
Joseph C. O'Mahoney the 1924 election.
Local conditions handicapped the extremism of the
Klan, however. Many Wyomingites agreed with former
University of Wyoming President Aven Nelson who ex-
pressed his contempt for the organization, saying that
"nothing more unamerican could be devised than to en-
trust the administration of justice to unknown parties
working under the cover of darkness and in disguise. This
opens the way for a reign of terror." In short, the Klan
did not meet local definitions of the American way, since
they operated outside of established institutions. The
Greybull mayoral elections of 1924 gave a clear-cut indica-
tion of the relative political weakness of the Klan in one
local contest. Despite its bitter opposition to candidate
Elizabeth Wiley, local voters saw fit not to follow the Klan's
advice when they cast their ballots.34
Despite these limitations on the more extreme forms
of nativist agitation, there was a strong consensus that
foreigners by definition were dangerous, especially those
who had not sought American citizenship. A large body
of state law sought to deal with this perceived threat after
1914. As early as 1915 the state legislature passed and
Governor Kendrick signed a new law which required a
special annual license for all non-citizens who owned any
type of firearm or fishing tackle. The law exempted from
its provisions bona fide residents of the state who paid
taxes in excess of $100.00 a year or who had taken steps
to acquire public lands. These exemptions were designed
in an apparent attempt to give local authorities a tool to
quell threats by outside agitators and local unmarried males
who worked in mining camps and on railroad gangs. Dur-
ing the war nativists urged the full use of this law to main-
tain peace. By 1925, its forebearance exhausted with this
moderate approach, the legislature outright banned all
non-citizens from owning, possessing, wearing or carry-
ing any sort of gun, knife or other dangerous weapon.35
Many other state statutes discriminated against non-
citizens, as Wyoming, along with every other state in the
nation in the 1920s, increasingly penalized its foreign-born
population. By 1930 members of this minority could not
work as attorneys, embalmers or funeral directors, physi-
cians, engineers, realtors or certified public accountants.
They were similarly proscribed from employment as sur-
veyors, hunting-party outfitters and guides or supervisors
in mines. No member of this group could work in any job
which entailed the manufacture, distribution or sale of
liquor.36
At the same time Americanization education sought
to remove the cultural presence of the immigrant. If a
newcomer was different in language or self-definition or
in shared memories, he or she was un-American and there-
fore not an acceptable Wyomingite. Earlier assumptions
about the commanding ability of the environment as an
agent of Americanization evaporated with the onset of war.
Assimilation was now seen as something too important to
be left to chance. Wyoming's local school districts and labor
unions set up classes to inculcate knowledge of local values
and the "American way of life." These voluntary efforts
were encouraged by the federal Bureau of Naturalization
as part of President Wilson's efforts to clear the "poison"
from the arteries of national life. Local people responded
well to federal guidance. Grace Raymond Hebard's efforts
in Laramie, for example, were so successful that students
who took her classes and received a satisfactory certificate
from her were granted citizenship without further exam-
ination.37
These local, ad hoc efforts were deemed insufficient
soon after the war. The legislature of 1919, meeting at the
height of the national and state Red Scares, overwhelm-
ingly approved the first statewide Americanization pro-
gram when it required all non-English-speaking people in
Wyoming to remedy their defect by attending compulsory
classes in English and American history. Governor Carey
said he was "in sympathy with the purpose" of the bill,
but believed a veto of the proposal was in order. Unhappy
with the vague delegation of powers to the state Board of
Education, Carey also found the bill patently void, since
the state constitution required school attendance only for
people in the six to eighteen year age group. The problem
of foreigners had to be dealt with, but the methods em-
ployed must be within accepted legal and constitutional
norms.38
32
"Evening Americanization Class," taken from a
1921-1922 Department of Education Report. Such
classes were a major nativist effort to Americanize
Wyoming.
Carey called for a revised bill in 1921, the next time
the legislature met. The governor's Director for Vocational
Education, Jasper R. Coxen, citing the "rather large
groups" of immigrants in the state, had recommended an
appropriation of $5,000 to fund at least 50 separate classes
in English education. Legislators, in a sharp departure from
their spending patterns for other requests, were even more
generous than Carey and Coxen had hoped. They author-
ized a total of $8,000 to fund classes wherever five or more
people requested them. County school boards were re-
quired to provide personnel and facilities. State funds
would then be used to reimburse county boards for their
expenses in paying teachers. The latter were ordered to
stress language training and American history and govern-
ment in the classroom. The enrollment of foreign-born
women was especially sought, since they would then help
Americanize their children. This program continued
throughout the 1920s. Department of Education statistics
show that almost 5,000 adult pupils enrolled over the
course of the decade. By 1932 the program was in marked
decline because of the sharp decrease in the number of
non-citizens in the state.39
Growing support for restrictive federal immigration
laws was another way to help erase the foreign presence
in Wyoming. The state's congressional delegation for many
years before 1914 had failed to reflect the thinking of state
leaders on this issue. Francis E. Warren, in the Senate un-
til his death in 1929, Warren's colleague Clarence Don
Clark, in office from 1895 to 1917, and Representative
Mondell, in Congress from 1898 to 1922, closely followed
national nativist trends in their voting patterns. Beginning
with the first recorded vote to override President McKin-
ley's veto of a literacy test in 1898, the three men followed
the Republican party's position of favoring restrictive
legislation. Warren, Clark and Mondell, as well as their
successors, voted as they did for the immediate benefits
which accrued to Wyoming because of their behavior. By
towing their party's line, they won political allies in Con-
gress for their efforts to open up federally owned western
lands to exploitation, garnered more tax monies for
reclamation projects and assistance to homesteaders and
won authorizations for federal buildings and military in-
stallations in the state. Leaders from both parties at the
state level have left no record of unhappiness with this
situation. Wyoming benefited greatly from heavy federal ex-
penditures in the state, and, in any event, immigration was
not affected to any important degree in the prewar years.40
Nativists in Congress had long sought a literacy test.
This hurdle, the ability to read a few words in any
language, was designed primarily to bar the entry of
33
southern and eastern Europeans, since so many of them
were illiterate. Congress lacked the votes to override
presidential vetoes until the eve of America's entry into
the war. On February 1, 1917, Congress overrode Presi-
dent Wilson's second veto of a literacy test. The latter, ad-
vocated by the Dillingham Commission, seemed moderate
at the time. The country was swept up in an anti-foreigner
mood and commercial shipping had almost disappeared
because of the war. The time seemed right to address the
widespread consensus on the evils of the immigrant pres-
ence.41
Wyoming's elites caught up with their congressmen
and probably the state's general population in seeking a
more permanent solution to the horrors of immigration.
Congressman Mondell railed at the "foul hordes" of
postwar Europe who sought entry into the United States.
In a fractured paraphrasing of the Bible he went on to note
that "He that provideth not for his own household, is
worse than an infidel, and what shall it profit America if
we should afford asylum to all the earth and lose our own
soul." Public opinion strongly supported these fears. The
anarchy of Italy and Greece would overtake America,
warned the Casper Daily Tribune, if we continued to per-
mit the entrance of those dedicated to the destruction of
established order. "It is strictly a self-defense proposition,"
in the words of a writer in the Rock Springs Rocket.*2
Most Wyomingites preferred some sort of a permanent
quota system to save their state and nation. Labor unions
avoided racial and religious arguments because of their
large foreign-born membership and concentrated on the
economic effects of large-scale immigration. For every
foreigner excluded, stated the Wyoming Labor Journal, a job
was created for workers already here. Others in the state,
while not disagreeing with labor's position, stuck to the
theme of moral and religious purity. Church groups, edu-
cators and many individuals wanted a nation returned to
mainstream Protestant fundamentals, a nation unsullied
by contamination. This sort of widespread grassroots sup-
port, fully seconded by local elites now, led to the first tem-
porary quota law in May, 1921. This law stipulated an an-
nual numerical cap on all immigration, formulated on a
3 percent basis of the census count of 1910. Renewed from
year to year so as to give Congress time to consider a per-
manent quota, this law allowed a total of 350,000 im-
migrants entry each year. Many nativists saw this law as
too lenient, since it recognized and institutionalized the
"new" immigration by allowing relatively large quotas for
southern and eastern European nations.43
The debate over the nature of a permanent quota gave
full evidence of how drastically Wyomingites had changed
their views on foreign immigrants since the pre-1914
period. Of the many plans put forward, the most drastic
was authored by Representative Albert Johnson of Wash-
ington state. The Johnson bill set a quota of 2 percent for
each "nationality, based on the census of 1890, and set a
ceiling of 150,000 per year for all newcomers. The key was
the base year chosen, for it was only after that date that
the so-called new immigrants came to the United States
in large numbers. Johnson's proposal, enacted in 1924, re-
mained the law of the land until 1965. Wyomingites who
voiced their views on the issue universally supported the
Representative from Washington. Local people believed
that nothing less than American nationalism was at stake.
If America was to remain true to itself, it had to have a
homogeneous population. The best feature of the Johnson
bill, according to Senator Warren, was that it would "do
away with the admission of a lot of undesirables," espe-
cially "Italians and some of the other Latin peoples."44
"Latin peoples" might have a niche in the New World,
but they were better advised to go to South America
because of its familiar race, religion, climate, customs and
institutions. There was no place for them in Wyoming.
"We are suffering from indigestion of the foreign element
in our body politic," said Representative Winter on the
floor of the House. Local people had given a resounding
endorsement to Johnson's proposal because it gave prefer-
ence only to "those who descended from the founders and
builders of the Republic."45
Thus did local attitudes toward the place and worth
of foreign immigrants in Wyoming change in the period
from 1868 to 1930. Before the start of the war Wyoming's
leaders expressed a heady optimism toward the newcom-
ers, confident they would quickly transform themselves
into good Americans in their new environment. This mind-
set quickly shifted after 1914, as foreigners became the
lightning rod of discontent for a wide array of local and
national problems. Given these new perceptions, it was
natural for the local elite to adopt national nativist beliefs
with ease and in the process come to the point of view
which was already held by many of the state's less ar-
ticulate inhabitants. An intellectual revolution had occurred
in the state.
This case study also indicates an important shift in the
self-image of Wyomingites. Their earlier optimism in the
West's environment showed the unquestioned desirabil-
ity—and superiority— of the American way of life. Wyo-
ming's place in this grand world view, if not unique, was
of utmost importance. The high, dry plateau that is Wyo-
ming was the near-perfect distillation of all that was possi-
ble for newcomers in America. The loss of this self-con-
fidence soon after 1914 was perhaps part of the price paid
for the passing of the frontier and melding into the rest
of the nation in the 20th century. It surely represents an
important part of the watershed which differentiates Wyo-
ming's 19th century history from the century that followed.
Wyomingites, like most other Americans, came to fear the
new, the different, the unexpected, in preference for the
old, the uniform and the accepted. In no way could there
be a challenge to accepted dogma. Whether the immigrants
were assimilating or not was irrelevant. The point was that
34
most people in the state believed the newcomers were not
giving up their old country ways and did not wish to do
so. Wyoming had moved in its value structure from a local
optimism and acceptance into the national stream of fear.
Nor did nativism in Wyoming leave much room for
diversity. There was one and only one accepted norm of
behavior and thought if any individual was to be con-
sidered a true son or daughter of the state. There remained
little evidence of the once-common cultural mosaic that
characterized the state. The very real pressures for con-
formity had largely erased the presence of European
ethnicity. Nativists won the campaign they launched in
1914, and their strongly anti-foreign and anti-radical tradi-
tion would come to dominate the state for the rest of the
20th century.46 The victory has been theirs.
Compare T. A. Larson, History of Wyoming (2nd ed.; Lincoln: Univer-
sity of Nebraska Press, 1978), p. 586; Gordon Olaf Hendrickson, "Im-
migration and Assimilation in Wyoming," in Hendrickson (ed.), Peo-
pling the High Plains: Wyoming's European Heritage (Cheyenne: Wyo-
ming State Archives and Historical Department, 1977), p. 188. The
standard account of nativism in the United States is John Higham,
Strangers in the Land: Patterns of American Nativism, 1860-1925 (New
Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1955). Stanley
Coben, "A Study in Nativism: The American Red Scare of 1919-20,"
Political Science Quarterly, 79 (March, 1964): 52-75, is the best examina-
tion of the reasons behind the rise of this phenomenon after 1914.
E. M. Saltiel and George Barnett, History and Business Directory of
Cheyenne and Guide to the Mining Regions of the Rocky Mountains
(Cheyenne: L. B. Joseph, 1868), p. 105.
J. H. Triggs, History of Cheyenne and Northern Wyoming, Embracing the
Gold Fields of the Black Hills, Powder River and Big Horn Countries
(Omaha: Herald Steam Book and Job Printing House, 1876), p. 32;
Francis E. Warren to A. D. Hoskins, April 12, 1924, Francis E. War-
ren Letter-Books, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming
(hereafter cited as Warren papers). See also Board of Immigration
of the Territory of Wyoming, The Territory of Wyoming. Its History,
Soil, Climate, Resources, Etc. (Laramie: Daily Sentinel, 1874), p. 44, and
passim.
Donald Hodgson and Vivien Hills, "Dream and Fulfillment: Germans
in Wyoming," in Hendrickson (ed.), Peopling the High Plains, p. 55,
quoting the Cheyenne Daily Leader, April 18, 1868; John A. Campbell,
"Diary," Annals of Wyoming, 10 (April, 1938): 62, 64. Larson, History
of Wyoming, pp. 95, 158-159, 108-110, details the gloomy, stagnant
and disappointing nature of economic development for most of the
territorial period, giving added urgency to hopes for rapid
demographic growth. Bruce Noble, "The Quest for Settlement in
Early Wyoming," Annals of Wyoming, 55 (Fall, 1983): 19-24, and Lar-
son, History of Wyoming, pp. 117-119, give the fullest account of early
attempts to increase Wyoming's population.
Perceptions of the "old" immigrants are found in Barbara Miller
Solomon, Ancestors and Immigrants: A Changing New England Tradi-
tion (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1956), pp. 158-161, and
Dictionary of Races or Peoples, 61st Cong., 3rd sess., in Reports of the
Immigration Commission (Washington: Government Printing Office,
1911), pp. 54, 115, 120, 129. The imagery of the "new" immigrants,
in sharp contrast to earlier arrivals' reception, may be seen in ibid.,
pp. 115, 129, 169-174.
Ibid., pp. 82-83, 127; Solomon, Ancestors and Immigrants, pp. 163-167,
175.
10
11
7. Walter E. Weyl, The New Democracy: An Essay on Certain Political and
Economic Tendencies in the United States (New York: The Macmillan
Company, 1912), pp. 68-69, 180; Eliot Norton, "The Diffusion of Im-
migration," Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social
Sciences, 24 (July-December, 1904): 162-163; Frank P. Sargent, "Prob-
lems of Immigration," ibid., pp. 155-156.
8. John W. Hoyt, "Memorial Praying for the Admission of Wyoming
into the Union of States," (1889), in Marie H. Erwin, Wyoming
Historical Blue Book: A Legal and Political History of Wyoming, 1868-1943
(Denver: Bradford-Robinson Printing Co., 1946), p. 658; ibid., p. 649,
quoting Warren in a report to the Secretary of the Interior. This strong
faith in the power of the environment to Americanize immigrants
is also found in "Mountain Influence," Wyoming Industrial journal,
1 (April, 1900): 264; Robert A. Strahorn, The Hand-Book of Wyoming
and Guide to the Black Hills and Big Horn Regions, for Citizen, Emigrant
and Tourist (Cheyenne: [Chicago: Knight & Leonard], 1877), p. 109;
Wyoming Fanner (Sundance), March 13, 1889.
9. Elmer E. Smiley, "Higher Education in Wyoming," Proceedings of the
Wyoming Industrial Convention Held at Laramie, December 11 and 12, 1901
(Laramie: Chaplin, Spafford and Mathison, 1902), p. 77. Ted Olson,
Ranch on the Laramie (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1973), pp.
47-48, gives the reminiscences of one immigrant's son who reacted
negatively to the strong assimilationist stress of Wyoming's educators.
See also John T. Buchanan, "How to Assimilate the Foreign Element
in our Population," Forum, 32 (February, 1902): 691, for another strong
statement on the value of education in re-shaping the values of im-
migrant children.
Wyoming Fanner (Sundance), November 28, 1888; Laramie Weekly Sen-
tinel, January 19, 1884; Cheyenne State Leader, February 25 and March
3, 1911; Earl Stinneford, "Mines and Miners: The Eastern Europeans
in Wyoming," in Hendrickson (ed.), Peopling the High Plains, p. 132;
Wyoming Industrial Journal, 2 (August, 1900): 63-64.
Larson, Histonj of Wyoming, pp. 141-142; Thomas Arthur Krueger,
"Populism in Wyoming," (Master of Arts Thesis in History, Univer-
sity of Wyoming, 1960), p. 46; Lewis L. Gould, Wyoming: A Political
History, 1868-1896 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968) pp.
207-211; Donald L. Kinzer, An Episode in Anti-Catholicism: The American
Protective Association (Seattle: University of Washington Press l^M)
pp. 89-90, 178, 254, 255-257. Wyoming's memorial to Congress is
documented in Senate journal of the Third State Legislature of Wyoming
(Cheyenne: Daily Sun Book Print, 1895). pp. 4S1. 515; House Journal
of the Third State Legislature of Wyoming (Cheyenne: Daily Sun, 18l>5)
pp. 4, 288, 488. The Congressional Record. December Q. 1895, p. 5S.
contains a copy of the memorial.
35
12. Wyoming Territory, Journal and Debates of the Constitutional Conven-
tion of the State of Wyoming (Cheyenne: The Daily Sun Book and Job
Printing, 1893), pp. 375, 377, 393 (quote). Examples of manipulation
of the foreign-born at the polls are given in Larson, History of Wyo-
ming, pp. 241, 293-294.
13. Revised Statutes of Wyoming. In Force December 1, 1899 (Laramie:
Chaplin, Spafford & Mathison, 1899), pp. 683-684; Roy L. Garis, Im-
migration Restriction: A Study of the Opposition to and Regulation of Im-
migration into the United States (New York: The Macmillan Company,
1927), pp. 90-93.
14. Roger D. Hardaway, "Prohibiting Interracial Marriage: Miscegena-
tion Laws in Wyoming," Annals of Wyoming, 52 (Spring, 1980): 55-57.
15. Progressive Men of the State of Wyoming (Chicago: A. W. Bowen & Co.,
1903), pp. 189-190, 322-323; Erwin, Wyoming Blue Book, pp. 644, 645,
647. One is struck by the large number of foreign-born inhabitants
who quickly rose to local prominence in the pre-World War I period.
Examples abound in, among others, Progressive Men of the State of
Wyoming; Ichabod S. Bartlett, History of Wyoming (3 vols.; Chicago:
S. J. Clarke Publishing Company, 1918); George C. Scott, "Those
God Forsaken Dobie Hills: Land Law and the Settlement of Bates
Hole, Wyoming, 1880-1940," (Master of Arts Thesis in History,
University of Wyoming, 1978).
16. Message of Governor Joseph M. Carey to the State Legislature,
January 12, 1911, in House Journal of the Eleventh State Legislature of
Wyoming (Laramie: The Laramie Republican Company, 1911), p. 31;
Carey to S. S. Pearlstine, May 5, 1913, Carey papers, Wyoming State
Archives, Cheyenne, file number 646, where Carey calls immigra-
tion "the best work ever undertaken for the people of Wyoming;"
Harry Green, General Director of the American Immigration and
Distribution League, to Carey, February 23, 1912, file number 3698,
ibid., (quote); Green to Carey, March 21, 1912 and June 24, 1914, file
numbers 3693 and 3387, ibid. Governor Bryant B. Brooks to Frank
P. Sargeant, U.S. Commissioner General of Immigration, July 9, 1907,
Brooks papers, Wyoming State Archives, Cheyenne, file number 267;
Patrick Carolan, Secretary of the Split Ticket Association, to Brooks,
October 8 and 19, 1906, ibid., file number 699 (hereafter referred to
as Brooks papers). Other examples of strong support for immigra-
tion are in Cheyenne State Leader, February 12, 1911; S. Conant Parks,
"The Beet Sugar Industry," Wyoming Industrial Journal, 6 (November,
1904): 129; editorial in ibid., 8 (October, 1906): 17, supporting a Sheridan
Post call for a state bureau of immigration. The high concentration
of immigrants in eastern urban areas may be seen in Walter F. Willcox,
"Distribution of Immigrants in the United States," Quarterly Journal
of Economics, 20 ( August, 1906): 523-546.
17. Bosler to James C. Craig, February 4, 1911, Frank Bosler papers,
American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming; Bosler to Arie
Binkhorst, January 23, 1911, ibid.; Robert P. Fuller to Bosler, December
20, 1910, ibid.; William Monfort to Bosler, June 10, 1911, ibid.;
Cheyenne State Leader, January 29, 1911; Laramie Daily Boomerang, April
30, 1910. For early 20th century hopes for farming and population
growth see C. A. Parks, "The Campbell System of Agriculture,"
Wyoming Industrial Journal, 3 (January, 1903): 178; V. T. Cooke to
Brooks, [undated], 1908, Brooks papers, file number 35. William
Hewitt's "Changing Perceptions of Agriculture in the Cowboy State:
Wyoming Farming Before World War I," Ph.D. dissertation in
History, University of Wyoming, 1984, is the most extensive treat-
ment of this failed agricultural experiment.
18. Brooks to Sargeant, July 9, 1907, Brooks papers, file number 267;
Wyoming State Board of Immigration, Biennial Report, 1911-1912
(Cheyenne: S. A. Bristol Co., 1912), pp. 47-48, 57; Hewitt, "Chang-
ing Perceptions," p. 125. One of the fruits of the combined state-
federal campaign which was translated into several foreign languages
is Department of Commerce and Labor, Bureau of Immigration and
Naturalization, Division of Information, Agricultural Opportunities: In-
formation Concerning Resources, Products, and Physical Characteristics of
the Western States (Northern Group), Comprising Montana, Wyoming,
Idaho, Washington, and Oregon, and the Territory of Alaska (Washington:
Government Printing Office, 1912).
19. Report of the Immigration Commission, Vol. 25, part 3: Japanese and Other
Immigrant Races in the Pacific Coast and Rocky Mountain States, 61st
Cong., 2nd sess. (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1911),
pp. 279-280, 292; Olson, Ranch on the Laramie, pp. 80-81.
20. Kendrick to Malcolm Moncrieffe, February 12, 1917, John B. Kendrick
papers, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming (hereafter
cited as Kendrick papers); Ellis W. Hawley, The Great War and the
Search for a Modern Order, A History of the American People and Their
Institutions, 1917-1933 (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1979), pp. 11-13,
gives a succinct account of these turn-of-the-century concerns on the
national level. William Howard Moore's "Progressivism and'the Social
Gospel in Wyoming: The Antigambling Act of 1901 as a Test Case,"
Western Historical Quarterly, 15 (July, 1984): 299-316, is the only ac-
count of these pre-war tensions in the state of Wyoming.
21. David M. Kennedy, Over Here: The First World War and American Society
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), pp. 24 (quote), 24-27. See
also "The Hyphen Must Go," North American Review, 203 (March,
1916): 343-344. The growing sense of danger to the status quo, largely
inchoate in Wyoming before 1914, doubtlessly was responsible in part
for the reinstitution in 1913 of earlier laws which outlawed miscegena-
tion: Hardaway, "Prohibiting Interracial Marriage," pp. 57-58.
Legislative efforts in 1913 drew almost no criticism, a sharp depar-
ture from the climate of opinion when these laws were repealed in
1882.
22. The Census of the State of Wyoming, 1915 (Cheyenne: Wyoming Labor
Journal Publishing Company, 1915), passim; Rock Springs Rocket,
February 5, 1915, May 23, 1916, February 9, 1917. The latter editorial
is reprinted from the Salt Lake Tribune.
23. Casper Record, February 23, 1915; Sheridan Post, June 16, 1916; Laramie
Semi-Weekly Boomerang, September 27, 1915, reprinting an editorial
from the Denver Express. See also Semi-Weekly Boomerang, December
9, 1915, January 10, February 3, August 3 (reprinting an editorial from
the Kemmerer Camera), and October 5, 1916, for similar views.
24. Dale A. Poeske, "Wyoming in World War I," (Master of Arts Thesis
in History, University of Wyoming, 1968), passim; Larson, History
of Wyoming, pp. 400-401; Douglas Budget and Converse County Review,
August 9, 1917.
25. Timothy J. Lyons, "Hollywood and World War I, 1914-18," Journal
of Popular Film, 1 (Winter, 1972): 22-23; Hawley, The Great War, pp.
27-30; Kennedy, Over Here, pp. 53-63, 67-69; Garis, Immigration Restric-
tion, pp. 229-239. "Proofs" of immigrant inferiority are documented in
Hamilton Cravens, The Triumph of Evolution: American Scientists and
the Heredity-Environment Controversy, 1900-1941 (Philadelphia: Univer-
sity of Pennsylvania Press, 1978), pp. 78ff., and their widespread
dissemination in William A. Satariano, "Immigration and the
Popularization of Social Science, 1900 to 1930," Journal of the History of
the Behavioral Sciences, 15 (October, 1979): 314-317.
26. Sheridan Post, April 12, 1918 (first quote), November 23, 1917 (second
quote); Frank Mondell, "My Story: An Autobiography by Frank
Wheeler Mondell," 4 vols, in typescript, Mondell papers, American
Heritage Center, University of Wyoming, III, p. 610 (hereafter cited
as Mondell papers); Laramie Daily Boomerang, October 1, 1917, reprint-
ing an editorial from the Wyoming Labor Journal.
27. Laramie Daily Boomerang, September 4, 1917 (quote), reprinting an
editorial from the Philadelphia Ledger, Sheridan Post, November 13, 1917;
see also Daily Boomerang, April 5, October 23, 1917, February 7, March
13, April 10, and June 15, 1918, for a representative sampling of opin-
ion on the dangers of the foreign presence. Ross put forth the no-
tion of "race suicide" in his "Causes of Race Superiority," Annals
of the American Academy of Political and Social Sciences, 18 (July, 1901):
' 67-89.
36
30
31
28. Houx is quoted in Higham, Strangers in the Land, p. 194; Harrison
C. Dale, What We Are Fighting For. An Address Delivered Before the
Laramie One Hundred Percent American Club on Lincoln's Birthday, 1918
(Laramie: n.p., 1918), p. 1; Douglas Budget and Converse County Review,
December 13, 1917. "William F. Hamilton," in Bartlett, History of
Wyoming, II, pp. 214-216, gives another example of a participant in
Douglas' One Hundred Percent Americanism movement. The temper
of the times is further revealed by events during the 1918 gubernatorial
race. Democrats charged that Republican candidate Robert D. Carey
was under the undue influence of German-born Fred J. Wiedeke, one
of Carey's employees: Larson, History of Wyoming, p. 403.
29. John D. Hicks, Rehearsal for Disaster: The Boom and Collapse of 1919-1920
(Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1961), pp. 67-81; Robert K.
Murray, Red Scare: A Study in National Hysteria, 1919-1920 (Min-
neapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1955), passim; George Soule,
"Radicalism," in Harold E. Stearns (ed.), Civilization in the United
States: An Inquiry by Thirty Americans (New York: Harcourt, Brace and
Company, 1922), pp. 275-276.
Labor strife, with no recognition of its significance, is found in Erma
A. Fletcher, "A History of the Labor Movement in Wyoming,
1870-1940," (Master of Arts Thesis in Economics and Sociology,
University of Wyoming, 1945), pp. 81-86, 93-94, 110-112. See also Lar-
son, History of Wyoming, pp. 411-413.
Journal of the House of Representatives of the Fifteenth State Legislature
of Wyoming (Laramie: Laramie Republican Company, 1919), pp. 12,
(quote), 310; Stinneford, "Eastern Europeans," p. 133.
32. Address of Mrs. Mondell to the National Society of the Children of
the American Revolution, April 17, 1923, Mondell papers, file 22;
Casper Daily Tribune, April 25, 1924; Journal of the House of Represent-
atives of the Seventeenth State Legislature of Wyoming (Sheridan and
Casper: The Mills Company, 1923), p. 25; Wyoming State Board of
Immigration, Third Biennial Report, 1921-1923 (Sheridan: The Mills Com-
pany, 1923), p. 4; Mary N. Brooks to Grace Raymond Hebard,
December 8, 1930, in Bryant B. Brooks vertical file, American Heritage
Center, University of Wyoming.
33. David M. Chalmers, Hooded Americanism: The History of the Ku Klux
Klan (New York: Franklin Watts, 1981), p. 221; Larson, History of
Wyoming, pp. 455, 457; Stinneford, "Eastern Europeans," pp. 134-135;
Records of the Secretary of State, Inactive Corporation Records,
"Women of the Ku Klux Klan," December 8, 1924, corporation
number 30874, Wyoming State Archives, Cheyenne.
34. Roger L. Williams, Aven Nelson of Wyoming (Boulder: Colorado
Associated University Press, 1984), p. 226 (quote); Cora M. Beach,
Women of Wyoming (2 vols.; Casper: S. E. Boyer & Company, 1927),
I, p. 490.
35. Nate P. Wilson, State Game Warden, to Kendrick, March 16, 1915,
Kendrick papers; Sheridan Post, April 16, 1918; Wyoming Revised
Statutes, 1931 (Casper: S. E. Boyer & Company, 1931), p. 591.
36. Milton R. Konvitz, The Alien and Asiatic in American Law (Ithaca: Cor-
nell University Press, 1946), pp. 200, 203-204.
Laramie Daily Boomerang, October 23, 1916; Sheridan Post, September
14, 1917; Beach, Women of Wyoming, I, p. 122; Biennial Report of the
State Department of Education of Wyoming, 1918-1920 (Sheridan: The
Mills Company, 1920), p. 40. The best general account of this part
of nativism is Edward George Hartmann, The Movement to Americanize
the Immigrant (New York: Columbia University Press, 1948).
Whether before or after 1914, it is abundantly clear that the vast
majority of immigrants, whatever their origins, responded
wholeheartedly to opportunities for Americanization. That was why
they had left their original homelands in the first place. To give only
one example here of what was common in Wyoming, 43 Greek-born
workers who were employed by the Union Pacific Coal Company
as miners in Reliance organized an Americanization School in 1921.
They sought and obtained local, volunteer help for their efforts.
Teachers donated time to lead classes in the principles of citizenship.
37
The Union Pacific Coal Company underwrote expenses incurred in
using a local school house: Rock Springs Rocket, February 4, 1921. Hen-
drickson (ed.), Peopling the High Plains, passim, and Gladys Powelson
Jones, "Cheyenne, Cheyenne, . . ." Our Blue-Collar Heritage (Cheyenne:
author, 1983), pp. 89-90, also discuss this commitment of the im-
migrants. It is ironic, and yet telling that local nativists chose to ig-
nore the newcomers' desire to assimilate. There is perhaps no better
evidence of the near-hysterical intensity of nativism in the Cowboy
State and Wyomingites' loss of faith in what they had to offer im-
migrants, particularly those from southern and eastern Europe, after
1914.
38. Journal of the House of Representatives of the Fifteenth State Legislature
of Wyoming (Laramie: Laramie Republican Company, 1919), p. 12
(quote).
39. Biennial Report of the State Department of Education, 1918-1920, pp. 39-40;
Biennial Report, 1921-1922, pp. 56-57; Biennial Report, 1928-1930, p.
133; Biennial Report, 1930-1932, p. 133.
40. Voting records of the three men on immigration restriction may be
seen in Congressional Record, January 17, 1898, p. 689; December 18,
1912, p. 5023; February 4, 1915, p. 3078.
Party discipline was reinforced by the geography of national
politics. Wyoming's congressmen spent much of their time in the East,
where sharp concern over immigration ran high. Moreover, Warren
was greatly influenced by the views of Senator Henry Cabot Lodge,
the pre-eminent Republican spokesman for immigration restriction
beginning in the 1890s. Warren, for example, initially supported entry
into the League of Nations, saying in an interview in Cheyenne in
August, 1919, that the League offered a good chance to avoid another
war. Back in Washington in October, under the sway of Lodge and
mindful of the benefits of party discipline, Warren opposed American
participation in the League.
The only exception to this general voting pattern occurred in 1917
when Warren and Clark, but not Mondell, voted to sustain Wilson's
veto of the literacy test. Warren's correspondence gives no reason
for this departure from his past behavior, but it is probable that he,
and presumably Clark, had more pressing international issues in
mind. An important advocate of military preparedness and a staunch
supporter of peace, Warren feared repercussions with Japan, since
certain provisions of the 1917 law gratuitously restated Japanese ex-
clusion from the United States (Congressional Record, February 15, 1917,
p. 2629). Earlier, in 1916, Warren opposed Philippine independence for
fear that Japan would then try to annex the islands. As late as 1924,
Warren expressed qualms about the Immigration Act of 1924, which
on the whole he strongly supported, because of the law's restate-
ment, again, of Japanese exclusion at a time when the world's powers
were attempting to limit naval armaments: Warren to P.C. Spencer,
April 25, 1924, Warren papers; Congressional Record, February 1, 1917,
p. 2457; Wesley Donald Bowen, "The Congressional Career of Senator
Francis E. Warren, 1912-1920," (Master of Arts Thesis in History,
University of Wyoming, 1949), pp. 28-31, 47-48, 56-69, 73-77, 85, 97.
41. The increasingly restrictive nature of federal immigration legislation
and the political difficulties in achieving it are best traced in Higham,
Strangers in the Land.
42. Undated clipping from Chicago Tribune in Mondell scrapbook number
16, April, 1921-June, 1922, Mondell papers (first quote); Mondell, "My
Story," IV, p. 781 (second quote); Casper Daily Tribune, January 21.
1921, and February 21, 1924; Rock Springs Rocket. June 3, 1921 (third
quote).
43. Garis, Immigration Restriction, pp. 142-168, gives a good, although
biased, account of the political battle to implement a quota system.
Wyoming opinion may be sampled in Wyoming Lalvr journal, March
14, 1924; John R. Quinn, "America and Immigration," ibid.; Warren
to Grace Raymond Hebard, April 11, 1924; Warren to Mrs. K G.
Dunlap, April 12, 1924; Warren to Reverend K. H Moorman, April
10, 1924, Warren papers.
37
44. Warren to M. P. Wheeler, April 21, 1924; Warren to Lovell Commer-
cial Club, January 30, 1924 (quotes), Warren papers. Warren, caught
up in the nativist tide of the 1920s and knowing he had the full back-
ing of his fellow Wyomingites, wrote to Imperial Wizard of the Ku
Klux Klan Hiram W. Evans that the Klan's diatribe against Latins and
Slavs, The Menace of Modern Immigration, had "much good food for
thought" in it: Warren to Evans, December 20, 1923, Warren papers.
45. Winter is quoted in the Casper Daily Tribune, April 25, 1924; see also
ibid., May 20, 1921, February 21, 23, and April 1, 1924; Kendrick im-
migration correspondence in box 17 of the Kendrick papers. Many
of the more than 100 letters were sent to Kendrick as part of an or-
chestrated campaign organized in Cheyenne to support the Johnson
bill. Smug satisfaction over passage of the Johnson bill, the natural
culmination of changing Wyoming perceptions on the presence of
foreign immigrants, is in Casper Daily Tribune, February 3, 1924; Laramie
Republic Boomerang, May 26, 1924; Greybull Standard and Tribune, Oc-
tober 17, 1924; Warren to M. C. Brown, April 21, 1924, and to M. P.
Wheeler, April 22, 1924, Warren papers.
46. For example, Statement of Commissioner Alan K. Simpson in Select
Commission on Immigration and Refugee Policy and the National Interest
(Washington: Government Printing Office, 1981), pp. 407-419; William
Hewitt, "The University of Wyoming Textbook Investigation Con-
troversy, 1947 to 1948 and Its Aftermath," Annals of Wyoming, 56
(Spring, 1984): 22-23; Larson, History of Wyoming, p. 451.
38
{Jn ^/Wyoming, 1880-1930
J^culLcl <y\/{. JDauman
3^
The Homestead Act has been called one of the great
democratic measures of world history.1 Women had the
opportunity to homestead, because the act made no dis-
crimination towards sex. Single women took this oppor-
tunity offered to them and did homestead in the state of
Wyoming. It is important to explore motives, the means
by which they obtained land, the typical life of women
homesteaders, the status of the women once the certificate
had been granted and what became of the land once a cer-
tificate had been granted.
During a special session of Congress, Representative
Aldrich of Minnesota introduced a homestead bill in the
House of Representatives and on May 17, 1862, the
Homestead Act became a reality when President Lincoln
signed the bill. The Homestead Act specified the qualifica-
tions for a homestead as:
. . . any person who is the head of a family, or who has arrived
at the age of twenty-one years, and is a citizen of the United States,
or who shall have filed his declaration of intentions to become such,
as required by the naturalization laws of the United States Govern-
ment . . . shall be entitled to one quarter section.2
Homestead land became available not only to a man over
21 and head of his family, but to a single woman over 21
and head of her family, because of the term, "person."
For the purpose of clarity, "single" women are defined
as women who have no husband. Some were unmarried,
some widows, some divorcees and some even runaway
wives.
In order to apply for homestead land, individuals were
required to include the information of the exact section,
township, range and meridian. Thus, for example, Agnes
M. Teusdale, of Laramie County, filled out an application
numbered 2491, which involved the land legally described
as the "Northwest quarter, Section 28, Township 20, North
of Range 60, West of the Sixth Principal Meridian in Wyo-
ming, containing one hundred and sixty acres."3 As of
January, 1863, the person applying for homestead land
received one quarter section of land, or 160 acres. If the
applicant wanted less than one quarter section, (80 acres),
or less of unappropriated lands, then the land went for
$2.50 an acre with the requirement that the land be sur-
veyed first.
Congress stated homesteaders would have a set period
of time in which to make improvements (prove up) on their
land. Consequently, five years from the date of entry, the
applicant who proved up became entitled to a patent to
his or her homestead. During these five years, the appli-
cant built a shelter and made improvements on the land.
The applicant could not change place of residence or aban-
don the said land for more than six months at any given
time. Those who abandoned the homestead lost all rights
to said land.4 The Homestead Act further stated that,
. . . said person may have filed a preemption claim, or which
at the time the application is made subject to preemption at one dollar
and twenty-five cents or less, per acre; or eighty acres or less of unap-
propriated lands, at two dollars and fifty cents per acre, . . .5
This meant any person who had the means could pay the
required amount at a greater sum of money than ordinar-
ily would be required. Congress concluded if a home-
steader fulfilled all of the required provisions prior to the
time allowed for proving up, then the homesteader "who
has availed him or herself of the benefits of the first sec-
tion" of the Homestead Act could pay "the minimum
price, or the same price to which the same may have
graduated, for the quantity of land" before the five years
had expired.6 In Laramie County, from 1890 to 1908, fif-
teen out of 21 single women homesteaders received their
certificates before their five year deadline, paying the
minimum price for their land. Thirteen out of the fifteen
completed the requirements in two years or less. (See Ap-
pendix A)
Before the Homestead Act, the principles of land policy
had been governed by various preemption acts. Between
1804 and 1841, more than sixteen acts passed granting
rights to squatters. Congress felt these acts "threatened
the principal of revenue return for the public domain."7
The Preemption Act of 1841 allowed "any squatter on
unclaimed land" the right "when the land was surveyed
and came up for auction" to "exercise the first preemp-
tion laws" by having first option at buying the land.8
Within a decade, Congress realized the Homestead Act
was inconclusive in that the act did not appropriately apply
towards conditions in the West. Therefore, the Timber
Culture Act of 1873 allowed a person to receive 160 acres
free by paying the same fees as the Homestead Act. In
order to claim 160 acres under the Timber Culture Act, one
had to plant and keep growing 40 acres of trees for eight
years. Originally, Congress felt that the prairie states could
benefit from this legislation. In actuality, lack of water
discouraged many homesteaders from utilizing this act.9
By 1890, all the most desirable farm land had been home-
steaded. People on the western prairies realized the re-
maining land could not be treated the same as the land
in eastern America. In the remaining arid and semi-arid
lands, 160 acres of land did not provide a living for a
homesteader trying to raise a dryland crop. Consequently,
320 acres became available to a homesteader for bare sub-
40
sistence when an amendment to the Homestead Act, the
Mondell Revisory Law of 1909, passed.10
By 1912, the lawmakers concluded that the five years
required on a homestead caused discouraged home-
steaders to admit defeat. The Homestead Act originated
as a means of disposing excess Public Lands and at the
same time earning a revenue. Hence, further leniency by
Congress in 1912 lowered the residency requirement from
five to three years, and permitted an absence of five months
each year. This popularized homesteading for women. The
majority of women filed their homestead claims after the
residency dropped from five years to three years and after
more land was awarded to the homesteaders.11
Along with the Homestead Act, many other acts
helped homesteaders in obtaining ownership of property
in the West. The Desert Land Act might have applied to
any homestead on the western plains. Passed by Congress
on March 3, 1877, it stated the applicant must be a resi-
dent of the United States and of legal age, (21 years old).
The land would be sold at 25C an acre and not exceeding
one section of land to any one person. A water system
must be installed on the land within three years after fil-
ing, providing that the right to this water for the 640 acres
followed bona fide prior appropriation laws. Within three
years after filing the claim, an individual had to pay an ad-
ditional one dollar per acre to the land office for the full
possession of the land.12 One who apparently took advan-
tage of the Desert Land Act, Florence Blake Smith of north-
eastern Wyoming stated,
I was now a homesteader in the West, and a potential owner
of six hundred and forty acres of Wyoming. The wonder of posses-
sion, the joy of looking out over one's land, thinking on the dear
dead Pioneer's toil and sweat to at least acquire one hundred and
sixty acres, and here was I with six hundred and forty, an entire
square mile.13
An amendment to the Desert Land Act, called the
Carey Act, aided two women in Worland to obtain home-
stead land. Mary Culbertson and Helen Coburn Howell
decided to homestead in Wyoming in that area of Wyo-
ming because of their fathers' interests in the Hanover
Canal Irrigation Project.14 Under the Carey Act, the Board
of Land Commissioners and the state engineer studied
detailed assignments as to the feasibility proposals for ir-
rigation works advanced by individuals or companies and
to make contracts when projects appeared sound. The state
charged the settler 50C per acre, and the private contrac-
tors charged $20 or more per acre for water rights. States
could not sell or dispose of more than 160 acres of these
lands to any one person. Ultimately, the Desert Land Act
made land available to enterprising homesteaders. Home-
steaders such as Culbertson and Howell used the Desert
Act in order to settle land previously arid and unusable.15
Utilizing land laws, each head of a family could take
160 acres free under the Homestead Act of 1862, another
160 free under the Timber Culture Act of 1873, another 160
at $1.25 per acre under the Preemption Act of 1841 and
640 acres at $1.25 per acre under the Desert Land Act of
1877. 16 Curiously, most of the women homesteaders, with
a few exceptions, did not take advantage of these other
land acts. All of the 79 women homesteaders in Laramie
County, between March 25, 1896, to February 16, 1917,
used only the Homestead Act to obtain free land from the
United States Government.17
While the opportunity to obtain 160 free acres brought
many young, single women to the agricultural frontier, the
other reasons are as varied as the women's individual
backgrounds. Some took up homestead claims simply to
add to their husbands', fathers' or brothers' holdings.
Others, especially single women, intended to work their
claims themselves.18 Single women homesteaders had
many different motives for homesteading. They included
adventure and fun, hunting a husband, financial security,
independence and equal rights or seeking an alternative
to the reduced opportunities of more settled regions.19
Helen Coburn Howell could be classified as an adven-
turous homesteader. She and Mary Culbertson took out
adjoining claims. "Mrs. Culbertson and I lived together
in great harmony the necessary time to prove up, she
sleeping on her side of the line that divided our property
and I on mine," Howell recalled.20
Many other women saw the opportunity differently.
They perceived homesteading as a means to earn a dowry
and help out a future husband. To a woman seeking a hus-
band, the male/female ratio on the plains was attractive.
Men greatly outnumbered the women.21 Natrona County
had 52 women homesteaders. Seventeen of these married
between receiving their homestead patent and homestead
certificate. (See Appendix B, Table III) In Campbell County,
Luella Moyer had decided to come West to marry after tak-
ing out a homestead. She later remembered,
At that time there was very little deeded land in Campbell County,
and a hundred and sixty acres was all one person could take. If a
man and woman were to be married and the man had proved up
on his homestead, the woman could take hers and be married the
next day. Later this rule was changed, and the woman had to live
on her homestead for a year before they were married.22
Some women did not intend to settle permanently but
rather hoped to establish their claims and then sell out to
neighboring farmers. They would then return to their small
towns or to the city with a nest egg. Contemporary letters
and diaries by homesteading women verify that some
young women intended to exploit their claims to earn
money for their ventures.23 Some schoolmarms became
homesteaders after they viewed the economic gain that
enterprise might offer. Minnie Hidy, Bessie Fox and
Blanche Lyons, all schoolteachers from Laramie County,
took out homestead claims to aid local ranchers in keep-
ing their ranches intact. These women sold their proper-
ties immediately to the stockmen at a nice profit.24
Dr. Bessie Fell decided to homestead on the Western
plains because of the financial security of owning land.
From Moville, Iowa, the 34 year-old medical doctor had
41
suffered a financial loss in the 1907 panic. Her loss had
been so large that when she arrived in southeastern Wyo-
ming with her three orphaned nieces, she had only 75C
in her pocket.25
Homesteading offered a peculiar challenge to women
to achieve equal rights, since "free land" did not
discriminate against male or female homesteaders. Men
and women "were appallingly equal— equal labor, equal
privation and equal failure— or victory."26 Even practiced
farmers failed, however. Statistically, only one in three
women managed to remain long enough to get deeds to
their farms. At the age of 52, Emma Peterson decided to
try once more to gain her economic independence and her
rights. From a large family, she had married at fourteen
and by age nineteen had become a widow. Undaunted,
Peterson started a very successful millinery shop until she
remarried a second time. She did not mind forfeiting her
independence for a husband. After fifteen years, the mar-
riage ended in the death of her husband. The opportunity
available to her through the Homestead Act made her
realize that by gaining land, she would never have to be
totally dependent upon another human being.27
Women, seeking an alternative to the reduced oppor-
tunities of a more settled region, were usually divorced,
widowed or runaway wives. One such wife was Mary
O'Kieffe. One day in 1884, at the age of 43, fed up with
her "ne'er-do-well" husband, she decided to file a
homestead claim in western Nebraska on land similar
topographically to eastern Wyoming.28 According to her
son Charley, Mary O'Kieffe was disappointed, discour-
aged, but never completely broken. The woman had
dreams of a better life somewhere and hoped to end her
unhappy existence by starting over in a new country with
freedom.29 She had the older children assist her in building
a cover on the farm wagon, hitched up the work horses
and tied the milk cows to the wagon sides. To the rear of
the wagon she attached the cultivator and on top of that
she built a small chicken coop to hold her two dozen hens
and a rooster. The journey from their farm on the Missouri
River to the new homestead was a distance of about 500
miles. After many adventures on the 51-day journey they
arrived, built a sod house, dug a well and set up house-
keeping in their new home.30
Another woman seeking an alternative was Vesta Keen.
In 1911, she came to homestead land in northeastern Col-
orado near the Wyoming border. At 33 years of age, Keen
was alone, as she liked not having a man complicate her
life. Part Cherokee, Keen had become weary of some of
the niceties associated with women's lives in the East. She
wanted to ride astride, and had heard women in the West
had long ago abandoned side saddles. Knowing women
had been voting for many years in the West, she longed
to express her opinions at the polls.31
Elinore Pruitt serves as an example of a woman with
inter-connected motives for homesteading. A widowed
mother who wanted to escape her past lifestyle, she
LJioLatLon. ciii.couxa.qza.
i.omz nomzi.tza.azxi.
42
cleaned house and did laundry to support herself and her
young daughter in a dismal apartment in Denver. Pruitt
had grown up on a farm and found her existence in Denver
difficult. She longed to escape "the rattle and bang, the
glare and soot, the smells and the hurry" of city life to "the
sweet, free open" area of the country.32 Acting on the ad-
vice of her minister, she advertised for a position as a
housekeeper to a rancher in the hope she could start a
homestead site. Consequently, Pruitt found herself as
housekeeper to Clyde Stewart, "a Scottish cattle rancher
who spoke with a burr as thick as his wrist and played a
bagpipe to cheer his bachelor solitude, sixty miles from the
railroad at Burnt Fork."33
Some women came West to visit homesteading rela-
tives and decided to stay and settle on their own claims.
Divorced Fredericka Deike came West to see her brothers.
During her visit, she decided that owning a homestead
near Burns would be an excellent opportunity. Women's
motives for homesteading varied, but universally they
valued the "free land" they would receive in order to bet-
ter themselves economically. The vastness and unbroken
land of the plains had a particular appeal for women nor-
mally not accustomed to feelings of individuality and
power.34
Homesteading a piece of land required making many
ingenious plans. One needed to obtain money and work
hard to make improvements on the land the Homestead
Act required. Florence Blake Smith observed that "free
land" was costly:
There would be filing fees, locating fees, transportation, price of
lumber to build the required habitable house. Also, it seemed, one
had to buy posts for fencing and the wire to string between them,
all of which added to a prohibitive sum by the mile. Then on necessity
you had to eat to live, of course, during the slow process of
homesteading.35
In order to begin, prospective homesteaders obtained
information on land available to them through many dif-
ferent sources, including land agents, newspaper articles,
government documents and friends or relatives. Some-
times the necessary information proved costly. Smith used
the services of a land agent to obtain her northeastern
Wyoming homestead. She worked for the Federal Reserve
Bank in Chicago and had become intrigued when a man
told her about homesteading. She paid $100 for the relin-
quishment and about $25 for her filing fees, the usual for
homesteading. By using the services of a land agent, Smith
paid an additional cost of $100 for the locating fee.36
Another example of a woman using a land agent is Ellen
R. Lathan. Lathan had John D. Simpson assign her a
homestead. He allotted her the Southeast quarter of
Southwest quarter of Section 7, in Township 18, North of
Range 70, West of Sixth Principal Meridian in Wyoming,
containing 40 acres. (See Appendix A) On another occa-
sion, Emma Peterson, in 1919, read about an oil boom at
Newcastle, where land was also available for homestead-
ing, but she could not afford the locating fee.37 Unfor-
c# mdk
cow ms.an
t Guttt
the. ta.HU to tfi
Li. woman.
tunately, some homesteaders often painted a rosy picture
to entice others to the West. Those who responded soon
became a part of a kind of conspiracy and practiced the
same tactics on other friends and relatives.38 As previously
noted, Fredericka Deike was one example.
The government allowed six months from filing date
to establishment of residence. This provision allowed
homesteaders to return home to prepare necessary ar-
rangements. Florence Blake Smith took advantage of this
opportunity and returned home to her banking job in
Chicago until the time came for her to leave for Wyoming.
Upon her return, her co-workers "hailed" her "as a
heroine, an adventuress, a land-oumer."39 The small town
Smith picked did not look far on a map from Chicago, but
actually she traveled 1400 miles west, a journey of over two
and a half days by train. Good friends stopped by fre-
quently to bring her something to wear out on the prairie.
The items included riding boots, a pair of heavy breeches,
a pair of rubber boots, a slicker and heavy woolen pajamas.
Smith's mother furnished her with two yellow plates, cups
and saucers to match and a pale blue-checked tablecloth.
Smith took a little solid-walnut kitchen table, a sanitarv
cot, two stout kitchen chairs, a small low rocker and a
regulation sheep wagon stove. These constituted her
housegoods. She used her bread can and the wooden
boxes in which she had shipped her canned goods for ex-
tra stools if needed. Along with the furniture, she brought
43
dvlns. bu tujslus. js.£-t ■ ■ ■
dainty dotted Swiss curtains, plus a few pictures from her
old room back in Chicago.40 Smith used a portable garage
as her new home, which measured,
nine by twelve feet ... It was just the size of our living room rug
at home, and many's the night I spent moving the furniture inside
of it, to acquaint myself with the size of my humble "Shack" to be,
in the West. It could be easily assembled by a woman. Or so I was
told by the affable man who sold it to me. A generous number of
nuts, bolts, and screws had been included to prove his points and
to provide complications for "putter-upper."41
Some women homesteaders, however, did not have
the help of relatives and friends. A destitute widow on the
Platte River, Mrs. Townsend, took out a claim and as most
newcomers, could not afford to bring lumber from the
mountains for a dwelling. She did not have the strength to
cut or lift the three-foot-long sod "bricks" to build a soddy,
as most of the homecomers did. But she dug dirt out of
a sand hill bluff, about eight to ten feet high, and cleared
a tiny six-by-eight foot room. She wedged poles across the
top to make a roof that slanted down over the front of the
dugout, and she built a front wall and door with scraps
of wood and junk. Grass and dirt piled on top kept out
the worst weather, but rain always leaked into the little
shelter, and dirt constantly sifted down. Perhaps that did
not matter, since the floor and walls were also dirt. In that
hole in the ground, she lived like a human prairie dog.42
44
A woman usually had the help of others when time
came to build her house, harvest her crops or any other
heavy outdoor chores. Usually women hired men to do
the harder jobs, as did Florence Blake Smith. In order to
make improvements Smith "hired a man to plow and seed
forty acres of wheat."43 Mary Culbertson and Helen
Coburn Howell, also "employed a man and his son to do
the heavy work— the fence-making, farming, and outside
chores."44 Culbertson and Howell shared the housework,
cooked, ate together and regarded their life on their
homesteads as a high adventure, but as they stated, "We
took our work seriously . . . however . . . we were far
from idle ourselves."45
Surviving on a homestead seemed like a costly en-
deavor for most single women. Food prices skyrocketed
in the West where the coffee was 65 cents per pound, but-
ter 80 cents, ham 60 cents, sugar 17 cents, flour $3.75 for
a 25-pound sack, eggs 45 cents a dozen and milk 15 cents
a quart.46 Consequently, in the rural West, women held
jobs as teachers, doctors and midwives, laborers and any
other work they could do to raise money. The teaching pro-
fession promised the most to a young single woman who
came west. Inspired by Catherine Beecher, a pioneer
teacher, writer on moral religious topics and an avid
speaker for women's education, many young women in
the East went to the agricultural frontier as teachers. Such
an occupation also fell well within the confines of ap-
propriate female behavior. The female teacher, Beecher
noted, can "discern before her the road to honorable in-
dependence and extensive usefulness where she need not
outstep the prescribed boundaries of feminine modesty."47
Many took the opportunity teaching gave them to earn ex-
tra money. Helen Coburn Howell, of Worland, taught as
did other homesteaders Hazle J. Pence, Minnie Hidy,
Bessie Fox and Blanche Lyons.48 On the other hand, Dr.
Bessie Fell, from Carpenter, supplemented her income as
a physician in order to live on her homestead. She in-
herited a medical territory covering more than a 30 mile
radius. People often saw her in her horse and buggy out
on call at all hours of the day.49 If a doctor could not be
found, however, homesteaders found themselves doing
tasks originally intended for doctors. Elmore Pruitt Stewart
had to nurse her own newborn baby, Jamie, when he be-
came ill "as there had been no physician to help."50
Women took on any other jobs that became available
to them. Housekeeping helped many women to live
another year on their homestead. Edna Norris Eaton took
advantage of the opportunity to housekeep. Following her
husband's death she sold their ranch and filed on a home-
stead near Recluse. A son lived on this homestead with
her for a few months, helping to build her log cabin and
make other improvements, before marrying and going to
Sundance to live. Alone on the homestead, Eaton found
employment for several years as housekeeper for Judge
and Mrs. Raymond of Newcastle.51 Additional acceptable
occupations women could pursue in order to raise money
to help them make improvements on their land included
sewing, cooking, laundry and other domestic work. Dur-
ing the time each year that Hattie A. Olsen of Albin could
legally be absent from her homestead, she found employ-
ment at St. John's Hospital in Cheyenne. An excellent
seamstress, she sewed for women and children of the
Albin community.52 Florence Blake Smith realized she
would be needing money to tide her over while she made
improvements on her property. Hence, she kept her bank
job in Chicago, but took a seven month leave each year.
Every spring, after taking the train back to Wyoming,
Smith would look for temporary jobs until the weather per-
mitted her to return to her homestead. She found work
in a restaurant making "eight dollars in salary and five
dollars in tips" per week.53 At this time, her temporary
job provided an adequate extra income. Later, when of-
fered a job as a stenographer with a local attorney, Smith
felt that, "good fortune was mine."54 In this position, she
earned $25 a week.55 On the whole, women applied their
abilities in many diverse ways in order to make extra
money. This need for supplemental support was only one
of the many problems in homesteading the free land.
-Js.ach.inq ichool u/ai within ths confine.! of ah.hxo piiatz
fs.ma.ls. bsnauiox ana offsxsa. a luhfiLsmsntat incoms to
vuomsn nomsitsaasxi.
4^
Life on the homestead was hard and lonely, even for
the most determined idealistic individual. Dr. Bessie Fell
emphasized, "In a new country getting established was
not only a hard and continuous battle against cold, hunger,
fire, and other physical hardships, but an even more dif-
ficult struggle against discouragement, frustrations, and
gloom."56 One had to be a druggist, postmistress, cook,
mother and a doctor. One had to be imaginative and crea-
tive. When Dr. Fell's house was too drafty, she filled up
the walls with rocks in order to insulate the house from
Wyoming winds. Dr. Fell contended:
All pioneers are idealists and enthusiasts. If they were not, they would
never had the urge or the courage to leave the old, established
homelands and risk their fortune in a new, uncharted world. Event-
ually, of course, all such idealistic dreams are idealized. But it is not
as easy or as glamorous as the story books about the westward trek
of the covered wagons often pictured it. It is a slow process and a
hard day-to-day struggle and only the strongest are able to survive.57
This philosophy of life held true for all people settling
on the prairies. One very good example of life on the
prairies is Elinore Pruitt, who filed on her claim by the use
of the amended Homestead Act. She had 240 acres of land
adjoining her future husband's ranch. Still, she would not
have married Clyde Stewart if he had not promised she
could meet all her "land difficulties unaided," for she
"wanted the fun and the experiences."58 The house that
Stewart's hired men built for her adjoined his ranch house.
Stewart mowed hay with a team of horses and grew large
46
C7~foms.ite.aa.ing uja± a itruggLs againit dii.couxags.ms.nt,
fzuitzationi and gloom.
crops of potatoes and various root vegetables. He even ex-
perimented successfully with beans and tomatoes. She
made preserves, butter, milked the cows, raised chickens,
turkeys and children. "When I read of the hard times
among the Denver poor," she wrote her friend:
I feel like urging them every one to get out and file on land. To me,
homesteading is a solution of all poverty's problems, but I realize
that temperament has much to do with success in any undertaking,
and persons afraid of coyotes and work and loneliness had better let
ranching alone. At the same time, any woman who can stand her own
company, can see the beauty of the sunset, loves growing things,
and is willing to put in as much time as careful labor as she does
over her washtubs, will certainly succeed; will have independence,
plenty to eat all the time, and have a home of her own in the end.59
Homesteaders soon realized that life on the open
prairies was a gamble, with the odds against success. They
frequently fought weather, insects, wild animals, loneli-
ness, fear, disease and new unfamiliar terrain. Dr. Bessie
Fell was exposed frequently and dangerously to the rigors
of prairie weather and to the hazards of night driving in
an open buggy or horseback over uncharted wilderness.
These great physical hardships included long and hazar-
dous trips during rainstorms and blizzards.60
Florence Blake Smith hired a man to plant her wheat.
According to her, "He must have planted bird seed. The
minute the green stuff showed half an inch above the
ground, the ground was black with birds, and the green
stuff soon got discouraged and gave up."61 Her first crop
never saw harvest, because "it was a dry summer," and
the birds ate what little came up.62 Hazle J. Pence solved
her problem concerning water by filing on 640 acres of graz-
ing land 28 miles north of Cheyenne. She located her
homesite beside a spring of crystal clear water which was
adequate for household use.63
The hardest part of homesteading for women came
when their fears became truths. They did face, indeed,
some very real dangers. On the prairies of Wyoming they
confronted snakes. Mary Culbertson and Helen Coburn
Howell heard of a snake crawling through the floor boards
of a hotel in Worland. "With visions of snakes crawling
through the floor onto us, we changed our sleeping ar-
rangements, and there after Helen slept on the office table,
and I slept for two miserable, uncomfortable weeks on two
trunks."64 Florence Blake Smith had an encounter with a
rattlesnake,
I heard that terrifying buzzzzzz that warns you of a rattlesnake. Where
he was and in which direction, I had no idea, since he remained
perfectly still after that first warning . . . usually if it is the last thing
you do, ethics demand you kill a rattler, either by shooting it or with
rocks.65
Fredericka Deike accompanied her children one and three-
fourths miles across the prairie every morning to the hill
south of their neighbors so they could attend school.66 She
did this every morning and afternoon and always carried
a revolver with her, as she was afraid of coyotes and
snakes.67
Women had many other fears. In 1885, Elizabeth Gor-
den at the age of 28 fulfilled a lifetime dream when she
homesteaded in northeastern Colorado near the Wyoming
border. Every night she would wedge her large Saratoga
trunk between her bed and the door of her house to keep
intruders out and to give herself a feeling of security.68
Gorden never lit her lamps at night because she was afraid
of strangers after dark. She also, "... had a pistol which
the men in the family taught her how to use."69 Women
contended with emergencies sometimes beyond their own
expectations. Mary Culbertson and Helen Coburn Howell
arrived in Worland for the first time and found typhoid
fever raging in the town. They considered taking the next
stage home, but were asked to give their services to the
sick as nurses. They protested they knew nothing of nur-
sing, but agreed to help. Culbertson and Howell got along
very well. There were about fifteen to twenty patients with
the fever, housed in an improvised hospital in an old log
building. Curtains were put up for partitions to provide
a semblance of privacy. The nearest doctor was at Hyatt-
ville, about 45 miles away.70
As did most homesteaders, Ida Watkins dealt with her
fears. Just across the border of Wyoming in Merino, Col-
orado, Watkins worked on a ranch twelve miles round trip
from her homestead. She made the trip both ways almost
every day, as homestead legislation required the prospec-
tive landowner actually live on the claim. Watkins had a
great fear of horses, and hers terrified her. Her trips back
and forth to and from her job became a private hell. If she
arrived safely each night, her relief was short, for as
darkness settled, she listened to the howls of the prairie,
and imagined many an attack. She awoke the next morn-
ing only to ride her despised horse to work. Watkins, like
most other homesteaders, learned to compensate. She be-
came such a good rider that she won a silk dress in a pony
race at a Fourth of July celebration.71
To break up the long periods of very real fear and
loneliness, social gatherings occurred frequently. Accord-
ing to Mary Culbertson, "one of the favorite forms of
recreation then, and now, was dancing. Every special oc-
casion was celebrated in this way."72 Usually each time
a new home or building had been completed the local
homesteaders celebrated and initiated the new building by
having a dance within the new walls. According to Culbert-
son, dances could be held at any time. The news was dis-
patched around the countryside and everyone for miles
around would be there.73 As the towns became more set-
tled, dances moved to one room schools, so small that
onlookers had to stand outside, peering in the doors and
windows.74 Usually a pot-luck dinner allowed the dancers
to take an intermission. Women were all expected to bring
a pie to the dances, as an "entrance fee," for the evening.75
As the dancers left for home, most would catch a nap on
the way. Sarah Barbara Claypool, who grew up on the
Wyoming border, stated they would settle their wagons into
the ruts of the prairie roads and then, recalled they would
"lean back and rest or even go to sleep; the horse would
follow the trail home."76
Many people entertained themselves in their own
homes by forming clubs, reading or playing a musical in-
strument at their own leisure. Bertha Davis came to Wyo-
ming in September, 1908, settling twelve miles north of
Hillsdale. Her two room cabin had been constructed by
Curt Ellenberger, who had a claim a short distance to the
south. During the latter part of September, Florence and
Milicent Davis came out to live on their homestead. Each
woman slept and cooked in her own one room cabin built
in her corner section adjacent to the other woman. Due
to their close proximity, the women enjoyed the frequent
company and conversation with the local cowboys. Grad-
ually, the area in which these women lived had been
named Calico Hill by the cowboys because of the calico
cloth worn by the women. Since the friends lived close to
each other, gatherings occurred often. In 1909, the women
formed a club named the Jolly Dry Farmers, a home-
maker's club, which is still in existence.
By the time women proved up they had lived through
a vast number of experiences. Understandably, some
women took longer to prove their claims than others. This
depended upon their circumstances. Susan J. McLauchlin
took out her homestead claim on March 18, 1890, but did
4"
not receive her certificate until June 17, 1908. (See Appen-
dix A) According to the land records, McLauchlin needed
eighteen years in which to fulfill the time she was required
to live on her homestead. On the other hand, some women
took advantage of the clause in the Homestead Act allow-
ing the homesteaders to pay a minimum price for the land.
One such woman, Emma Dudley of Laramie County, took
out her homestead claim on October 26, 1908. After pay-
ing a fee, she received her certificate on November 24, 1908,
a total of 30 days. (See Appendix A) Apparently, Dudley
was more affluent than McLauchlin.
The majority of women homesteaders who settled in
Wyoming remained unmarried, according to the county
land records of Crook, Laramie, Natrona and Sweetwater
counties from March 26, 1888, to March 12, 1943. Of the
homesteaders, 68.9 percent remained unmarried. These
women homesteaders clearly did not view homesteading
as a means of obtaining the land as a dowry in order to
meet a husband. Of the 68.9 percent, 5.9 percent died in
the attempt of homesteading land. Once a claim had been
taken out 29.1 percent married. Only approximately two
percent of single women homesteaders were widows who
must have viewed homesteading as a means of starting
their own life over with a fresh start. (See Appendix B,
Table II)
In Laramie County, 21 women homesteaded land be-
tween March 18, 1890, and January 2, 1908. Of these
women, ten sold their claims after receiving certificates of
ownership. One-third of these women who sold were un-
married. Two transferred their homestead land deeds to
their husbands, interestingly, one married woman sold her
land, but not to her husband. (See Appendix B, Table III)
The other eleven women kept their land. Of these
women, 38.1 percent were unmarried, while 9.5 percent
were married. Out of 21 women, there was only one
widow and she kept her land. These statistics clearly show
a majority of these women were unmarried. (See Appen-
dices A and B, Table III)
In conclusion, the Homestead Act did not discriminate
against male or female applicants between 1888 and 1943.
Of the 6,527 homestead patents issued in Crook, Johnson,
Laramie, Lincoln, Natrona and Sweetwater counties (See
Appendix B, Table I) nearly twelve percent were single
women homesteaders. (See Appendix B, Table II) This
clearly proves that single women took advantage of their
right to homestead in the state of Wyoming. Homestead-
ing, a non-glamorous aspect of life, offered a peculiar
challenge to women. As mentioned previously, women's
motives for homesteading were as varied as the individual
backgrounds. They sought adventure and fun, a husband,
perhaps financial security, independence and equal rights.
Many pursued an alternative to the reduced opportunities
of the more settled regions. Homesteading land required
ingenious thinking. The adventurous had to locate infor-
mation on available land, apply for a homestead, pack and
48
prepare for the move. Then they met filing and relinquish-
ment fees, built a homesite, maintained economic standing
and made a living on the land to prove up and receive a
certificate and deed. Women soon realized that life on the
open prairie was a gamble.
The Homestead Act, indeed, was one of the great
democratic measures of world history, in that it allowed
women the right to own land by homesteading. The
women who attempted a claim were inventive, hardwork-
ing, courageous and determined to obtain and fulfill the
requirements of a homestead. Overall, these single women
homesteaders proved to be just that. The legacy these
homesteaders left can be seen in the names of their descen-
dants who live in southern Wyoming. The characteristics
that made these women can, also, be seen in their con-
temporary relatives.78
1. John Mack Faragher, Women and Men on the Overland Trail (New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1979); Robert T. Hine, The American
West: An Interpretive History (Boston: Little, Brown, and Company,
1973); T. A. Larson, History of Wyoming (Lincoln: University of
Nebraska Press, 1978); Sandra L. Myres, Westering Women and the Fron-
tier Experience 1800-1915 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico
Press, 1982).
2. United States Congress, Homestead Act, Ch. 75, 12, Stat. 392 (1862),
p. 1. Historical Research and Publications Division, Wyoming State
Archives, Museums & Historical Department, Cheyenne, Wyoming
(WSAMHD).
3. Laramie County Clerk Homestead Certificate Records, Certificate
number 904, application number 2491, Agnes M. Teusdale, Archives
Division, WSAMHD.
Homestead Act, p. 1.
Ibid.
Ibid.
Hine, The American West, p. 160.
Larson, History of Wyoming, p. 174.
United States Congress, Timber Culture Act, Ch. 277, 17, Stat. 605
(1873); Larson, History of Wyoming, p. 174.
Elizabeth J. Thorpe, "A Woman Alone Stakes a Claim," In Wyoming,
The Spirit of America: A Bicentennial Intervierv with Wyoming People (June-
July, 1976).
Peggy Kirkbride, From These Roots (Cheyenne: Pioneer Printing Co.,
1972), p. 121.
12. United States Congress, Desert Land Act, 43, U.S.C. Sec. 321-323
(1976); Lynette Wert, "The Lady Stakes a Claim," Persimmon Hill,
Vol. 6, No. 2, 1976.
13. Florence Blake Smith, Cow Chips V Cactus: The Homestead in Wyo-
ming (New York: Pageant Press, 1962), pp. 13, 24.
14. Mary Culbertson, "Experiences in Wyoming of Miss Mary Culbert-
son," Historical Data collected by Lottie Holmberg, Works Progress
Administration (WPA) folder 699, WSAMHD; Helen Howell, "Mrs.
Ashby Howell: Pioneer Worland Women and Humorous Stories of
Her First Years in Wyoming as School Teacher and Lady Home-
steader," WPA folder 798, WSAMHD.
15. United States Congress, Carey Act, Sec. 4, 43, U.S.C, Sec. 641 (1976).
16. T. A. Larson, Wyoming: A History (New York: W. W. Norton and Com-
pany, Inc., 1977), p. 118.
17. Laramie County Clerk Records, Book 95, Homestead Certificate from
March 25, 1896, to February 16, 1917, pp. 1-642. For a woman alone,
160 acres was quite a bit of land with which to cope.
10
11
18. Myres, Westering Women, p. 258.
19. Elinore Pruitt Stewart, Letters of a Woman Homesteader (New York:
Houghton Mifflin Company, 1914); Smith, Cow Chips '«' Cactus;
Thorpe, "A Woman Alone Stakes a Claim," In Wyoming, pp. 26-29.
20. Howell, WPA folder 798, WSAMHD.
21. Robert P. Porter, The West: From the Census of 1880 (Chicago: Rand,
McNally, and Company, 1982), pp. 38-80.
22. Luella Moyer, "Mrs. Luella Moyer, Campbell County Pioneer," In-
terviewer Glendys Wilkenson, WPA folder 906, p. 1, WSAMHD.
23. Myres, Westering Women, p. 258.
24. Kirkbride, From These Roots, p. 121.
25. Alfred Rehwinkle, Dr. Bessie (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House,
1963), p. 57.
26. Thorpe, "A Woman Alone Stakes a Claim," In Wyoming, p. 27.
27. Ibid.
28. Sheryll Patterson-Black, "Women Homesteaders on the Great Plains
Frontier," Westering Women: In History and Literature (Cottonwood
Press, 1978), p. 11.
29. Charley O'Kieffe, Western Story: The Recollections of Charley O'Kieffe,
1884-1898 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1960), p. 7.
30. Patterson-Black, "Women Homesteaders on the Great Plains Fron-
tier," Westering Women, p. 11.
31. Nell Brown Propst, Those Strenuous Dames of the Colorado Prairie
(Boulder: Pruett Publishing Company, 1982), pp. 8-9.
32. Stewart, Letters of a Woman Homesteader, pp. v, 11, 226.
33. Ibid., pp. 226-227.
34. Ibid., Smith, Cow Chips V Cactus; Thorpe, "A Woman Alone Stakes
a Claim," In Wyoming; Propst, Those Strenuous Dames, pp. 5-23; Jolly
Dry Farmers, Calico Hill: Recalling the Early Years, Good Times and Hard-
ships of Homesteaders (Cheyenne: Pioneer Printing Company, 1973),
p. 23.
35. Smith, Cow Chips 'n' Cactus, p. 2.
36. Ibid., p. 13.
37. Thorpe, "A Woman Alone Stakes a Claim," In Wyoming, p. 27.
38. Propst, Those Strenuous Dames, pp. 8, 23.
39. Smith, Cow Chips 'n' Cactus, pp. 3, 13.
40. Ibid.
41. Ibid., pp. 2, 18.
42. Propst, Those Strenuous Dames, p. 17.
43. Smith, Cow Chips 'n' Cactus, p. 31.
44. Culbertson, WPA folder 699; Howell, WPA folder 798, WSAMHD.
45. Ibid.
46. Smith, Cow Chips 'n' Cactus, p. 28.
47. Kathryn Kish Sklar, Catherine Beecher: A Study in American Domesticity
(New Haven: Yale University Press, 1973), p. 97.
48. Kirkbride, From These Roots, p. 121; Howell, WPA folder 798,
WSAMHD.
49. Rehwinkel, Dr. Bessie, p. 74.
50. Stewart, Letters of a Woman Homesteader, p. 190.
51. Edna Norris, "A Courageous Homesteader," WPA folder 692,
WSAMHD.
52. Myres, Westering Women, p. 259; Kirkbride, From These Roots, p. 131.
53. Smith, Cow Chips 'n' Cactus, p. 20.
54. Ibid., p. 21.
55. Ibid.
56. Rehwinkel, Dr. Bessie, p. 69.
57. Ibid., p. 57.
58. Stewart, Letters of a Woman Homesteader, pp. 77, 79.
59. Ibid., pp. 16-27, 215, 280-281.
60. Rehwinkel, Dr. Bessie, pp. 73-74.
61. Smith, Cow Chips 'n' Cactus, p. 31.
62. Ibid.
Kirkbride, From These Roots, p. 131.
Culbertson, WPA folder 699, p. 2, WSAMHD.
Smith, Cow Chips 'n' Cactus, p. 106.
Ibid.
67. Jolly Dry Farmers, Calico Hill, p. 23.
68. Propst, Those Strenuous Dames, p. 43.
69. Ibid.
70. Culbertson, WPA folder 699, p. 3, WSAMHD.
71. Propst, Those Strenuous Dames, p. 8.
72. Culbertson, WPA folder 699, p. 9, WSAMHD.
73. Ibid.
74. Propst, Those Strenuous Dames, p. 7.
75. Smith, Cow Chips 'n' Cactus, p. 28.
76. Propst, Those Strenuous Dames, p. 7.
77. Jolly Dry Farmers, Calico Hill, pp. 121-122; Kirkbride, From These Roots,
p. 21.
78. Teresa Jordan, Cowgirls (Garden City, New York: Doubleday and
Company, Inc., 1982).
49
APPENDIX A
County Clerk Records: Book 95 p. 30
Lucy B. Thomas
Homestead Patent: February 8, 1892 Application No. 1078
Homestead Certificate: March 7, 1898 Certificate No. 572
Land Description: Lots numbered one and two, and the East
half of the Northwest quarter of Section 18, in Township
14, North of Range 61, West of the Sixth Principal Meridian,
in Wyoming, containing one hundred and fifty-two acres, and
twenty-four hundreds of an acre.
Lucy Thomas married and sold her homestead to John C.
Gilland, January 31, 1898, for $50.00.
p. 31
Ida A. Gilland, formerly Ida A. Thomas
Homestead Patent: February 8, 1892 Application No. 723
Homestead Certificate: March 7, 1898 Certificate No. 571
Land Description: South half of the Southeastern quarter, and
the South half of the Southwest quarter of Section 12, in
Township 14, North of Range 62, West of the Sixth Principal
Meridian, in Wyoming, containing one hundred and sixty
acres.
Ida Gilland kept her homestead for many years.
p. 79
Jessie Sinclair, widow of Archibald Sinclair, Deceased
Homestead Patent: February 7, 1895 Application No. 2401
Homestead Certificate: January 23, 1900 Certificate No. 839
Land Description: North half of Northeast quarter, and the North-
east quarter of the Northwest quarter of Section 6, in
Township 17, North of Range 70, West of the Sixth forty-one
acres, and twenty-two hundreds of an acre.
Jesse Sinclair kept her homestead for many years.
p. 87
Elizabeth Griffin
Homestead Patent: April 27, 1898 Application No. 2830
Homestead Certificate: May 31, 1900 Certificate No. 1065
Land Description: North half of Northeast quarter of Section
23, and the West half of the Northwest quarter of Section 24,
in Township 19, North of Range 65, West of the Sixth Prin-
cipal Meridian, in Wyoming, containing one hundred and
sixty acres.
Elizabeth Griffin kept her homestead for many years.
p. 107
Claricy B. Thomas, formerly Claricy Bowen
Homestead Patent: November 28, 1900 Application No. 2665
Homestead Certificate: Dec. 26, 1900 Certificate No. 1220
Land Description: Southwest quarter of Section 32, in Township
15, North of Range 66, West of Sixth Principal Meridian,
in Wyoming containing one hundred and sixty acres.
Claricy Thomas kept her homestead for many years.
50
p. 160
Eleanor B. Baxter
Homestead Patent: May 22, 1899 Application No. 3488
Homestead Certificate: January 9, 1902 Certificate No. 1093
Land Description: Lots numbered one, two, three, and four of
Section 22 in Township 12, north of Range 70, West of Sixth
Principal Meridian in Wyoming, containing one hundred and
sixty-four acres, and fifty-eight hundreds of an acre.
Eleanor Baxter sold her homestead land on June 21, 1902,
to a Mrs. C. H. Gooding for $300.
p. 186
Lizzie Kisening
Homestead Patent: September 19, 1898 Application No. 2873
Homestead Certificate: April 19, 1902 Certificate No. 1027
Land Description: Northwest quarter of Section 10 in Township
17, North of Range 60, West of Sixth Principal Meridian
in Wyoming, containing one hundred and sixty acres.
Lizzie Kisening did not sell her land, but kept the home-
stead.
p. 218
Emma M. Dudley
Homestead Patent: March 25, 1902 Application No. 3187
Homestead Certificate: Dec. 19, 1902 Certificate No. 1404
Land Description: Northwest quarter of Northeast quarter of
Section 28 in Township 17, North of Range 69, West of the
Sixth Principal Meridian in Wyoming, containing forty acres.
Emma Dudley sold her claim to Charles A. Dereemer on
Oct. 1, 1918.
p. 219
Ellen R. Lathan, assigned by mesne conveyance of John D.
Simpson
Homestead Patent: September 26, 1902 Application No. 4748
Homestead Certificate: December 20, 1902 Certificate No. 1418
Land Description: Southeast quarter of Southwest quarter of
Section 7, in Township 18, North of Range 70, West of Sixth
Principal Meridian in Wyoming containing forty acres.
Ellen Lathan obtained this land through the provisions
made for Civil War veterans. She either was a war
veteran's widow or bought the right to homestead from
a veteran. She kept her homestead. There was no record
of her selling.
p. 259
Lena Paulson
Homestead Patent: October 13, 1902 Application No. 2734
Homestead Certificate: July 11, 1903 Certificate No. 1087
Land Description: East half of the southeast quarter of Section
3, and the North half of Southwestern quarter of Section 2,
in Township 17, North of Range 68, West of Sixth Principal
Meridian in Wyoming, containing one hundred and sixty
acres.
Lena Paulson kept her claim according to the records.
p. 260
Minnie E. Chambers
Homestead Patent: February 12, 1902 Application No. 3219
Homestead Certificate: July 11, 1903 Certificate No. 1349
Land Description: Lots numbered one, two, and three, South-
east quarter of Northwest quarter of Section 1 in Township
17, North of Range 68, West of Sixth Principal Meridian in
Wyoming, containing one hundred and sixty-two acres, and
seventy hundreds of an acre.
Minnie E. Chambers sold her claim to Lena C. Lukins
on Nov. 3, 1907.
p. 299
Mari Christenson
Homestead Patent: September 26, 1902 Application No. 2847
Homestead Certificate: May 7, 1904 Certificate No. 1448
Land Description: Southwest quarter of Section 8 in Township
12, North of Range 62, West of Sixth Principal Meridian in
Wyoming.
Mari Christenson kept her homestead for numerous years
after receiving her certificate.
p. 344
Latitia Kelsey
Homestead Patent: July 8, 1895 Application No. 2039
Homestead Certificate: April 20, 1905 Certificate No. 890
Land Description: Northeast quarter of Northwest quarter, and
South half of Northwest quarter of Section 17, and Southeast
quarter of Northeast quarter of Section 18 in Township 18,
North of Range 61, West of Sixth Principal Meridian in Wyo-
ming, containing one hundred and sixty acres.
Latitia Kelsey sold her land to James D. Gilleland on
October 31, 1905, for $500.
p. 346
Heirs of Elinor Thomas
Homestead Patent: January 31, 1903 Application No. 3898
Homestead Certificate: May 3, 1905 Certificate No. 1547
Land Description: North half of Southwest quarter of Southeast
quarter of Southwest quarter of Southwest quarter of North-
west quarter of Section 32 in Township 15, North of Range
62, West of Sixth Principal Meridian in Wyoming containing
one hundred and sixty acres.
Elinor Thomas died between taking out a Homestead
Patent and receiving her Certificate. Her heirs inherited
her land.
p. 402
Mary Bailey
Homestead Patent: July 24, 1895 Application No. 2227
Homestead Certificate: September 4, 1906 Certificate No. 889
Land Description: West half of Northeast quarter and West
quarter of Southeast quarter of Section 18 in Township 14,
North of Range 66, West of Sixth Principal Meridian in
Wyoming, containing one hundred and sixty acres.
Mary Bailey did not sell her homestead directly after
receiving her certificate but kept her claim for many years.
p. 408
Marsha Kirkbride formerly Misealf
Homestead Patent: December 20, 1904 Application No. 3353
Homestead Certificate: October 6, 1906 Certificate No. 1775
Land Description: North half of Southwest quarter, Southeast
quarter of Southwest quarter of Section 23, in Township 18,
North of Range 64, West of Sixth Principal Meridian in Wyo-
ming containing one hundred and sixty acres.
Marsha Kirkbride's husband homesteaded on the sec-
tions, Section 23 and 24, right next to hers. Consequently,
their home place was quite sizable.
p. 437
Mabel E. Underwood
Homestead Patent: December 17, 1906 Application No. 4262
Homestead Certificate: March 29, 1907 Certificate No. 2024
Land Description: West half of Northeast quarter, and North of
Range 70, West of Sixth Principal Meridian in Wyoming, con-
taining one hundred and sixty acres.
Mabel Underwood married a Mr. Heosman. She sold her
homestead to J. J. Underwood and Son on January 3,
1908, for $1.
p. 461
Martha Pawson
Homestead Patent: May 22, 1907 Application No. 4575
Homestead Certificate: August 16, 1907 Certificate No. 2108
Land Description: Southwest quarter of Section 12 in Township
13, North of Range 64, West of Sixth Principal Meridian in
Wyoming, containing one hundred and sixty acres.
Martha Pawson took out a homestead apparently to ob-
tain the free land.
p. 506
Susan J. McLauchlin
Homestead Patent: March 18, 1890 Application No. 489
Homestead Certificate: June 17, 1908 Certificate No. 223
Land Description: West half of Northeast quarter, and the East
half of the Northwest quarter of Section 14 in Township 17,
North of Range 70, West of Sixth Principal Meridian, in Wyo-
ming containing one hundred and sixty acres.
Susan Van Zandt McLauchlin turned her homestead over
to her husband on June 18, 1908, for $480.
p. 508
Annie Nelson
Homestead Patent: January 2, 1908 Application No. 4843
Homestead Certificate: July 28, 1908 Certificate No. 2169
Land Description: Northeast quarter of Section 18 in Township 14,
North of Range 60, West of Sixth Principal Meridian, in Wyo-
ming, containing one hundred and sixty acres.
Annie Nelson sold her land on March 4, 1911, for $300 to
Peleg J. Whitehead.
p. 519
Emma M. Dudley
Homestead Patent: October 26, 1908 Application No. 7389
Homestead Certificate: Nov. 24, 1908 Certificate No. 2235
Land Description: Southwest quarter of Southeast quarter, and
the South half of the Southwest quarter of Section 21, in
Township 17, North of Range 69, of Sixth Principal Meridian
in Wyoming, containing one hundred and twenty acres.
Emma Dudley sold her land to Charles A. Dereemer on
October 1, 1918.
51
APPENDIX B
Table I
HOMESTEAD PATENTS OF SIX WYOMING COUNTIES
COUNTIES
SINGLE WOMEN
HOMESTEAD PATENTS
TOTAL
HOMESTEAD PATENTS
CROOK
June 23, 1891-January 27, 1925
541
(13.3%)
4058 (100%)
JOHNSON
March 26, 1888-September 30, 1932
109
(7.9%)
1383 (100%)
LARAMIE
February 25, 1895-November 24, 1905
50
(16.6%)
301 (100%)
LINCOLN
April 14, 1917-March 12, 1943
10
(13.1%)
76 (100%)
NATRONA
April 29, 1903-March 22, 1925
52
(8.2%)
636 (100%)
SWEETWATER
November 20, 1915-October 1, 1925
10
(13.7%)
73 (100%)
TOTALS
772
(11.8%)
6527 (100%)
* Percentages rounded off to the nearest tenth.
* Note that Table I and Table II both show 11.8% of the homesteaders were single women.
APPENDIX B
Table II
TWENTY-ONE SINGLE WOMEN HOMESTEADERS
LARAMIE COUNTY
MARCH 18, 1890, TO JANUARY 2, 1908
WOMEN WHO:
NUMBER OF HOMESTEADERS
PERCENTAGE OF TOTAL (21)
SOLD LAND (10)
20% Married, sold to husband
10% Married, sold elsewhere
70% Unmarried, sold elsewhere
9.5
4.8
33.3
KEPT LAND (11)
18.2% Married
9.1% Widowed
72.7% Unmarried (one died)
9.5
4.8
38.1
* Percentages rounded off to the nearest tenth.
52
APPENDIX B
Table III
SINGLE WOMEN HOMESTEADERS IN FOUR COUNTIES
COUNTIES
Lived
UNMARRIED
Died Assi
gned
MARRIED
AFTER PATENT
Lived Died
WIDOW
TOTAL
CROOK
Patent Records
June 23, 1891-
January 27, 1925
319
61.3%
36
6.9%
1
.2%
159 2
30.6% .4%
3
.6%
520
12.2%
LARAMIE
Certificate Records
March 25, 1986-
February 16, 1917
58
73.4%
3
3.8%
1
1.3%
14 0
17.7% 0
3
3.8%
79
12.3%
NATRONA
Patent Records
April 29, 1903-
March 22, 1922
25
48.0%
0
0
3
5.8%
17 0
32.7% 0
7
13.5%
52
8.2%
SWEETWATER
Patent Records
November 20, 1915-
October 1, 1925
9
100%
0
0
0
0
0 0
0 0
0
0
9
12.3%
TOTALS
455
68.9%
192
29.1%
13
2.0%
660
11.8%
Percentages rounded off to the nearest tenth.
Note that Table I and Table II both show 11.8% of the homesteaders were single women.
53
BOOK REVIEWS
WYOMING— Land of Echoing Canyons. By Beverly Elaine Brink, Ed., Brancie
M. Berg. Third in the Old West Region Series. (Hettinger, North Dakota:
Flying Diamond Books, 1986) Index. Bib. Illus. Map. 176 pp. $21.95.
This easy-to-read book is set up in three parts. Part
One, Land of Echoing Canyons, describes the natural
wonders of the state. Any amateur or professional geolo-
gist, archaeologist, historian or preservationist would cer-
tainly benefit from this section prior to visiting landmarks
described throughout.
Within this chapter the reader will begin to understand
the deep-seated pride that citizens of Wyoming have for
their state. Appreciation for the state and its natural
resources is reinforced over and over. From land use prac-
tices to industry to historical facts it is evident that the state
has much to offer.
In colorful detail the not-so-easy survival of Wyoming's
Native Americans is analyzed. Their respect for the land
and its inhabitants is an easy fact to absorb. Viewpoints
and changes are candidly discussed by several outstanding
Indian citizens.
It is easy to recognize that game and fish in the state
is big business. The habits and habitats of hundreds of
species that roam the vast landscape are dealt with on an
individual basis. Those sportsmen interested in hunting
with rifle or camera will find this section a ready reference
to local guidelines.
Part Two, Wyoming Today, describes contemporary
lifestyles found around the state. The reader soon begins
to realize that Wyoming had them all— trappers, rendez-
vous, country dances, plus an opera or English salon—
and still does!
Readers will enjoy the numerous biographical sketches
of colorful Wyomingites, each described with just enough
flair that you feel like nothing has been left out. You are
introduced to those citizens who live on reservations or
in the cities and towns that dot the state.
The decade of "boom and bust" felt throughout the
1970s is an accurate, albeit not often pretty, account of what
the state went through in trying to accommodate fast paced
changes. The reader will feel a surge of pride in those
citizens who were dramatically affected by these changes—
from the miner to the rancher, each of whom continue to
take steps to protect the land and their lifestyles.
Part Three, History of Wyoming, is the longest chapter
in the book. The positive conclusions of this reviewer,
which were drawn early, were consistently reinforced in
this chapter.
Early pioneers like Narcissa Whitman, Jim Bridger and
Black Beaver are all brought to life in this chapter. They
and many others survived numerous social ailments along
with the blizzards, dust storms and economics. Through-
out the centuries each Wyomingite has shown a strong
determination— one they have doggedly earned and fully
deserve.
I appreciated the author's mention of many of the
state's cultural resources, museums and historic sites. The
section on John Kendrick, one of the state's most successful
citizens, could only have been enhanced by a picture of
his stately mansion that is now a state historic site.
This reviewer highly recommends this book for those
tourists who like to "study" a state prior to their visit, to
those individuals interested in making Wyoming their
home or to anyone who currently lives here and would
like a quick refresher course. At $21.95 it is the most ex-
pensive volume of the series. Regardless of the price,
however, the hard-bound, nicely illustrated book would
make an enjoyable gift for yourself or a friend.
LINDA G. ROLLINS
Rollins is Public Information Officer for the Archives, Museums and Historical
Department.
54
Washakie: A Wyoming County Histonj. By Ray Pendergraft. (Basin: Sad-
dlebag Books, 1985) Index. Notes. Illus. 251 pp. $12.95.
Washakie: A Wyoming County History has recently been
added to the growing list of Wyoming, regional, commu-
nity and county histories. The need for this type of chroni-
cle was evinced some years ago and answers the need for
specifics which make up the whole. Local history has been
encouraged, defined and applauded by no less an organi-
zation than the American Association for State and Local
History, headquartered in Nashville, Tennessee. That
association's correct contention is that any person or per-
sons living in a precise locale know more about their past
than anyone else, ergo, it is their responsibility to record
and preserve it. When possible, they should share and
disseminate it through publication. The goal has been
reached in this volume on Washakie County.
The material was compiled and collected by lifelong
county resident Ray Pendergraft. A writer of some ex-
perience, he has published poems, short stories and ar-
ticles of historical content for a number of years. As a
descendant of a pioneer family, he grew up hearing stories
of his part of the Equality State. These include accurate
recollections of past events and some events that may or
may not be considered folklore. Nonetheless, both are
substantial additions to his history. Further, because of his
long association with many other Washakie County resi-
dents, he has relied on the oral tradition— oral history, if
you will— to flesh out certain portions of the book. First-
hand accounts rendered by eyewitnesses are considered
by many published historians as the best source of infor-
mation. I give you John Toland's biography of Adolph
Hitler and Merle Miller's biographies of Harry Truman and
Lyndon B. Johnson as evidence.
Pendergraft has approached the goal he set for himself
logically. He compiled a great deal of data, apparently tak-
ing a number of years to do so. He then set about to write
a chronological history of his county and town. The final
product is as thorough as the research he completed. It is
clear, informative and so structured that in years to come,
it will serve as a useable reference/research work.
The author makes some points that others planning
a similar volume should keep in mind. Washakie County's
experiences with and participation in such historical
phenomena as Prohibition and World War II are just as
important as the rest of America's. Prohibition was cer-
tainly as big a problem in the Big Horn Basin of Wyoming
as it was in Chicago. World War II was as frightening to
the people in and around Worland, Wyoming as it was to
those individuals living on the Pacific coast. In short, the
people of this region lived their history every bit as much
as those in other geographic areas.
Pendergraft devotes space to two still-controversial
incidents in Wyoming's past. They were the Spring Creek
Raid of 1909 and the mysterious death of Governor William
A. Richards' daughter Edna Jenkins and her husband
Thomas. Neither event has been fully explained to his-
torians interested in them and they probably will be
discussed and re-discussed as much as the Johnson County
Invasion of 1892 and the career and execution of stock
detective hired gun Tom Horn. To those who are unaware
of these two pages from Wyoming history, the informa-
tion provided will be enlightening and interesting.
The book is greatly enhanced by the inclusion of many
photographs. They do a fine job of supplementing the text
and helping to tell the story. The inclusion of a complete
surname index will be welcomed by genealogists and other
researchers seeking information on Washakie County.
Footnotes are present, but they do not overwhelm the page
as is the case in some publications. Footnotes that suffocate
the writer's text really have no place in a readable history.
All in all, this book is a solid contribution to the history
of the region and of the state. It will be appreciated and
enjoyed by those who choose to take time to read it.
LOT B. ALBRIN
Albrin is a free-lance writer who has reviewed for several historical journals.
Buffalo's First Century. By the Buffalo Centennial Book Committee. (Buf-
falo: Buffalo Bulletin, 1984) Index. Illus. 223 pp. $20.00 cloth;
$14.00 paper.
Created as a part of its centennial celebration Buffalo's
First Century is a portrait of one of Wyoming's small towns.
It is a compilation of historical reports, newspaper articles
and first hand accounts of Buffalo's history.
Buffalo began as a supply depot for Fort McKinney
during the 1880s. The first chapter depicts a frontier boom
town with articles from the Annals of Wyoming, the Buffalo
Bulletin and from previously untapped sources.
Continuing through the years, the book includes first
families and early businesses. The book depicts the vast
abilities of the founding fathers as they strove to build their
vision. Hard working men and women who ran businesses
while securing a homestead still had time for church and
community activities.
There is a chapter devoted to transportation methods
with photographs of mule and ox teams, a variety of stages,
automobiles, railroad and aircraft. A chapter titled "Legal
Leanings" includes stories about the early day judges,
lawyers and the county's only legal hanging. Information
about the land office, the library, cemetery and post office
is in this chapter too.
As an army rest and recreation center, early Buffalo
had more than its share of saloons and brothels. A short
chapter dwells on the cleverness of these early entrepre-
neurs who used roller skates and a corral tor elk to draw
customers.
55
Other businesses described are the telephone service,
flour mill, brewery, ice business, water delivery, the Oc-
cidental Hotel, newspapers, physicians and banking.
Articles on prohibition and the Works Progress Ad-
ministration in Buffalo bring the book into the 20th cen-
tury. Chapters on schools, churches and recreation round
out the view of the town.
The modern era is somewhat neglected by the book.
Deliberately, the cattle war of 1892 is barely mentioned.
The index is of local family names without subject inclu-
sions. Use of oral history transcriptions and nonprofes-
sional writers adds or detracts from the volume depending
on the reader's inclination. Carefully reproduced photo-
graphs present a visual history of the community that is
truly outstanding.
One of the goals of the book committee compiling the
history was to make a readable, enjoyable book. In this I
believe they have succeeded. The variety of article lengths
and depth provide accurate information without over-
dosing. In all, Buffalo's First Century is for both lay reader
and historian.
PATTY MYERS
The reviewer is a librarian with the Johnson County Library.
Son of the Morning Star, Custer and the Little Bighorn. By Evan S. Connell.
(San Francisco: North Point Press, 1984) Index. Maps. 441 pp. $20.00.
Evan S. Council's Son of the Morning Star is vastly eclec-
tic, to say the least. He is all over the scenery— in the best
sense of the words.
Connell has produced nothing particularly new and
startling, but he has collected or expanded, in some ways,
the large amounts of Custeriana. The book is refreshing
certainly in not again serving only to dissect the ill-fated
Custer battle on the Little Big Horn.
He treats of the fight and the events leading up to it,
of course, but otherwise he has produced a number of
vignettes dealing with Custer, his not-so-merry subor-
dinates, army types and others with whom Custer was
associated.
Of first importance, the book never lags for interest,
particularly for those to whom much of the Custer story,
from West Point to the end, is new.
Included in Morning Star are devastating portrayals of
the two second leads in the final Custer saga— Captain F.
W. Benteen and Major Marcus Reno.
Connell gives a fair rundown of Reno's defeat in the
opening of the Battle of the Little Big Horn— be it a tactical
withdrawal of his troops or an ignominious retreat, or a
combination of both, to Reno Hill. Reno, by most accounts,
comes off poorly. Benteen, by some of the same accounts,
comes off better. But this is standard Custer.
Far more interesting are bits and pieces of the two men.
Both were hard drinkers. Connell recounts the time Ben-
teen in his alcoholic cups stepped out of his tent and
urinated on it, while, all the time, there was present a
woman visitor of starched respectability. After all, it was
de rigueur in mid-Victorianism— and later— to seek a bush,
a tree or, at least, a gully. This is the Benteen whose
cherubic countenance beams out from the latter-day photo-
graph so well known. He was, Connell develops, anything
but a cherub.
Major Reno had a respectable Civil War record, but he
was a born loser. He consumed disabling quantities of the
frontier's inebriating forty-rod rotgut. He brawled with
subordinates, and in his career coup de grace, he ends up
a Peeping Marcus. Reno, as Connell recounts, peeped in
a window at the apparently attractively-ample figure,
however chastely clothed, of his commanding officer's
daughter. This was Col. Samuel Sturgis who, though 1,000
miles or more away, received two body blows in connec-
tion with the Little Big Horn episodes. For one, he was
detached to recruiting duty in St. Louis while his second-
in-command, Custer, took the Seventh Cavalry to its
fateful disaster in Montana. For another, his son, Jack, a
lieutenant, died among the sagebrush with Custer.
Connell recounts with commendable fairness the fact
that Custer might have fathered a child by a Cheyenne
woman as he cantered around to "Gary Owen" (Custer's
favorite marching song) on the plains of Kansas in the late
1860s. Custer put the blast on Black Kettle's camp in a sur-
prise attack at the Washita Nov. 27, 1868. Some of the same
Cheyenne were to meet him again in Montana as June
ebbed in the Centennial year of 1876. Most of them
emerged; George Armstrong Custer— son of the Morning
Star— did not, but was enshrined because of emotion
forever in the imagination of his country men and others.
But, most intriguing, is the question of whether his
might-be Cheyenne daughter, fair-haired, light-com-
plexioned, perhaps about seven or so years old, was pres-
ent in the Indian camp on the banks of the Little Big Horn
that fateful day now coming on 110 years ago?
BURTON THOMPSON
Thompson is the editor of the 'Credit Edit' newsletter of the Uniform Consumer
Credit Code Office, State Examiner's Office.
The Canadian Prairies— A History. By Gerald Friesen. (Toronto: Univer-
sity of Toronto Press, 1984) Index. Illus. 524 pp. $22.50
The Canadian Prairies— A History is a collection of infor-
mation about the economic, social and political factors
operating over nearly four centuries in ever-shifting con-
figurations which characterize Canada's vast interior
prairies. This region, along with its co-region on the Pacific
Coast, comprises the often enigmatic Canadian West.
56
Author Friesen, gathering perspectives from a great ar-
ray of contemporary printed material, creates for the
reader his interpretation of the forces at work which
shaped the Canadian prairies into a distinctive region.
Writing for a non-specific audience which could include
scholars, students and general readers, he traces the
development of modern prairie society from the 1600s
when the region was inhabited by traditional native
peoples using simple subsistence methods to the present
day in which both the complex agricultural and industrial
technologies dominate.
The central theme of the book is the passage of time
and the changes thus resulting; some positive and some
not positive. The author limits the book to one contiguous
geographical region, which although topographically di-
verse, is logically delimited on the west by the Rocky
Mountains and on the east by the stony granite Canadian
Shield. The three prairie provinces, Manitoba, Saskatche-
wan and Alberta are shown to have developed a recogniz-
able "personality" based on shared weather, landforms
and to an extent, psychology.
Friesen thus separates out the prairies from the coastal
province of British Columbia, which shares neither the
harsh weather nor landforms of the prairies, and has its
own pattern of development. This is unusual treatment,
for most Canadian history books deal with the Canadian
West as one aggregate unit with two component regions,
often within a sea-to-sea context.
Friesen gives generally equal weight to the major eras
that shaped prairie history; the natives prior to European
contact (after the Wisconsin Ice retreat 10,000-12,000 years
B.P.— 1600s), the native-European interface (1600s-1850),
European dominance of the native populations (1850-1900),
the rise of the Canadian nation-state (the Confederation
period 1867-1900), the post-Confederation period and the
Great Depression (1900-1940) and the contemporary post
World War II period.
As a Professor of History at the well-respected Univer-
sity of Manitoba, the author is in a position as a prairie
dweller to steep himself in prairie lore from an insider posi-
tion. His sources of information include many western-
dwelling scholars and some fine archives. Some biographi-
cal sketches of the pivotal post-Confederation era figures
are part of living memory, which gives Friesen an edge.
He does not neglect to include geographical and an-
thropological data in the first part of his book to set the
stage for the definition of the prairies as a unique region
with special assets and liabilities, and to provide reference
points for historical events.
Friesen certainly meets his objective to build a single
volume which gives the reader a comprehensive overview
of 400 years of prairie history in Canada. However, al-
though he alludes to providing an ethnohistory, it seems
to this reviewer that he falls short of that goal in com-
parison to other historians working from that angle. Surely
he tells many small and carefully detailed stories, but rather
than weaving a tapestry with them, it seems more like he
is salting his history to remove blandness.
For this reviewer also, the treatment of the prairie
region as something more separate and apart from the rest
of Canada than it actually has been is also problematical.
For a reader looking for sweeping trends to identify, view-
ing the history of the prairies in relative isolation (compared
to other authors) removes much of the high drama and
mutes the essence of the prairies. This is not to imply that
Friesen leaves anything out— because he doesn't; he simply
does not play off prairie history against the larger canvas
of Confederation to any great extent. Much of the punch
of certain eras of Canadian history is thus lost; times when
the fate of the Canadian nation-state rested absolutely on
what happened west of the Manitoba-Ontario border.
It would seem to this reviewer that trying to write what
is in essence a survey of prairie history for such a broad
audience has many pitfalls, one of which is that the book
may disappoint the reader who has studied this region and
is looking for certain aspects which could be consistently
linked into the paradigms of social science. However, the
general reader probably does not have this requirement
and could profit from reading the book more readily.
MARY C. WALKER
The reviewer is a student at the University of Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada.
American Protestantism and United States Indian Policy, 1869-82. By Robert
H. Keller, Jr. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1983) Index. Bib.
Notes. Appendix. Illus. 359 pp. $27.95 cloth.
The so-called Peace Policy of 1869 to 1882 was the
outgrowth of a new reformist crusade initiated by a diverse
mixture of individuals who ranged from religious leaders
such as John Beeson and Henry B. Whipple, to public ser-
vants such as Secretary of Interior Jacob D. Cox and Com-
missioner of Indian Affairs Ely Parker. Spurred by the
senseless 1864 Sand Creek Massacre and government
mismanagement of the Santee Sioux during the Civil War,
reformers petitioned for a change in policy which would
substitute devout Christian agents for the spoilsmen who
previously had dominated reservation affairs. President
Ulysses S. Grant lent his crucial support to the experiment
and allowed the division of all agencies among the various
Christian denominations. Although their methods differed
from reservation to reservation, these "missionary agents"
operated on the assumption that their Christian principles
would serve as good role models for the Indians, and that
the purity of their motives would end legendary corrup-
tion within the Indian Office. Three hundred agents,
assigned by thirteen different mission boards, administered
the policy during the thirteen-year period, but the results
fell far short of expectations.
57
Many historians have categorized the Peace Policy as
an aberration in 19th century policy-making and a cata-
strophic one at that. Robert H. Keller, Jr., a professor of
interdisciplinary studies at Western Washington Univer-
sity, has questioned the initial assumption and confirmed
the latter. Instead of interpreting this program as a brief
departure from past and subsequent policy, he sees a con-
tinuity within the entire century of policy-making. First,
the Peace Policy shared the assimilationist goals of its
predecessor and successor programs which ultimately led
to the 1887 Dawes Severalty Act. Second, the close associa-
tion of Church and State in matters of Indian relations had
existed since the beginning of the nation, despite popular
perceptions of the separation of the two spheres. Third,
denominational bickering and infighting obscured the
shared association and goals common to all the missionary
groups and their representative agents.
Although the Peace Policy began with great en-
thusiasm and achieved some notable goals in Indian educa-
tion and health care, the program faltered by 1877 with the
loss of important national leaders, non-cooperation from
some Indians who resented the seemingly hypocritical at-
tacks on tribal culture and the continuous assault on reser-
vation lands by avaricious white groups. In dramatic
fashion and with an impressive array of well-documented
evidence, Keller demonstrates that good intentions alone
were not enough to construct a realistic and lasting Indian
policy. When read in conjunction with Clyde Milner's more
narrowly focused With Good Intentions: Quaker Work among
the Pawnees, Otos, and Omahas in the 1870s (1982), this work
serves as the best treatment of an important phase of
American Indian policy. Researchers can ill-afford to over-
look it in their own investigations.
MICHAEL L. TATE
Professor Tate is with the Department of History, University of Nebraska at
Omaha.
A Day at a Time: The Diary Literature of American Women from 1764 to the
Present. Edited and with an Introduction by Margo Culley. (New York:
(Feminist Press, 1985) Bib. 342 pp. $12.95.
The importance of studying women's diaries and jour-
nals for an understanding of the "her story" in history is
increasingly recognized. In this volume which excerpts sec-
tions from 29 diaries, Margo Culley focuses on the diary
writing of "ordinary" American women.
The arrangement is chronological. The women writers
of the first section detail life in Colonial America. The sec-
ond section, "The Journey Out," records the experiences
and emotions of women caught in the great mass migra-
tions of the 19th century. The 20th century women writers
describe the complex relationship between their personal
and political selves. Excerpts from the diary of Edith K. O.
Clark, 1881-1936, elected Wyoming's State Superintendent
of Public Instruction in 1914, is presented in this section.
Margo Culley offers the interesting comment that both
the words "diary" and "journal" come from the French
word for day. A diary progresses "a day at a time," but
for the sensitive reader these days describe the inward
journey the diarist undertakes.
As we read, we share the diarist's discovery and be-
come engaged for we are reading a form of literary art as
important as any. Culley points out that in any work of
art, selectivity is the guardian principle. What is excluded
is often as important as what is left in. In other words,
whether writing to herself, to a real or to an imaginary
reader, the diarist consciously shapes her narrative just as
she consciously shapes what we see of her self.
In modern literary terms, the diary is a construct, an
artistic creation which includes such literary elements as
characterization, setting, recurring themes and images, and
audience. For all that a diary may tell us about an age or
an event, we must not forget that the first subject is the
journey of the author herself.
The eleven page selection from the diary of Edith K. O.
Clark focuses not on her public life as a Sheridan County
and State Superintendent of Public Instruction, but on her
private life as a homesteader in the Big Horn Mountains
of Johnson County, Wyoming. She embarked on this new
career in her early fifties.
This short section records her pride in the creation of
her log cabin— felling trees, peeling logs, raising the ridge
pole and finally living in her cabin. She is not alone in her
story; there are many friends and neighbors but, above all,
she is surrounded by the power of nature especially in the
soul thrilling skyscape and in the terror of forest fires.
The complexity of the relationship between her private
and political life is painfully reflected as she records that
the forest fire spread around her cabin and those of her
neighbors unchecked for five days while the Forest Ser-
vice debated jurisdiction.
The complete diary of Edith K. O. Clark was published
in Annals of Wyoming, XXIX (No. 2, Oct. 1967), 217-44. The
manuscript of the diary is at the University of Wyoming,
Laramie, Wyoming, with the Agnes Wright Spring papers.
DONA R. BACHMAN
The reviewer is Curator of Education and supervises the volunteer program for
the Museums Division of the Wyoming State Archives, Museums & Historical
Department. She holds a Ph.D. in English from Northern Illinois University.
Magic Images: Contemporary Native American Art. By Edwin L. Wade and
Rennard Strickland. (Norman: Philbrook Art Center and University of
Oklahoma Press, 1981) Index. Notes. Catalogue of the Exhibition. 128
pp. $15.95.
Magic Images: Contemporary Native American Art is based
on an exhibition of 37 leading American Indian painters
and sculptures held at the Philbrook Art Center in Tulsa,
Oklahoma, in 1981 ("Native American Arts '81") which
was organized by Edwin Wade, one of the authors. Dr.
Wade, curator of Native American Art at the Philbrook Art
58
Center, holds a Ph.D. in anthropology and has written
many books and articles on American Indian culture. Co-
author Rennard Strickland is a professor of law and history
at the University of Tulsa. A scholar of Osage and Chero-
kee heritage, he serves as Chair of the Philbrook Art Center
Indian Committee.
Magic Images, designed and edited by Carol Haralson,
is presented in a large horizontal paperback format, and
is much more than a photographic retrospective of an ex-
hibition. The book presents a lively balance of essays and
artwork, including a section of full-color reproductions
from the exhibit. In the Introduction, "Contemporary In-
dian Art: Evolving Images of the Native American," the
authors explain that fundamental changes have taken place
in Indian art within the last 20 years, and as a means of
understanding these changes, they have defined four main
categories of visual expression.
"Historic expressionsim" is defined as personal re-
interpretation of ancient conventions— the subject matter
may vary widely, but the approach is the highly structural,
two-dimensional technique used in the 19th century. The
front and back cover of the book displays a work from this
category, Randy Lee White's 1980 "Custer's Last Stand
Revisited." White, a Sioux, takes the well known Chey-
enne painting of the Battle of Little Big Horn, and trans-
forms it into an Indian version of the energy crisis. Junk
cars were sold to the naive Sioux by businessmen who
neither knew nor cared that Indians had no gasoline. The
painting depicts the rusting cars from aerial perspective,
with stylistic Indians attacking soldiers protecting gas cans.
"Traditionalism" embraces the type of art most often
identified by the public as "Indian." Historic native
imagery (ceremonial dances, buffalo hunts) is presented
in a two-dimensional technique, and usually depicts ideal-
ized versions of earlier Indian ways. Ranee Hood, Coman-
che, is exceptional at "capturing an image of what has
been, as a cultural vision of what can be." This school of
painting lies at the center of a heated debate over what con-
stitutes "real" Indian art. The works of Ranee Hood and
others portray a lifeway long gone— is it authentic for a con-
temporary Indian to depict events he has not experienced?
Some critics demand that Indians paint only their tribal
past, and only in accepted, prescribed, "Indian" styles.
"Modernism" encompasses those contemporary In-
dian painters or sculptors who experiment with main-
stream (i.e., non-Indian) contemporary art techniques, but
retain Indian imagery. The techniques vary widely, from
photorealism to cubist abstraction but the subject matter
is always recognizably Indian. Social commentary abounds
in this category. One of the most effective statements of
the plight of the Native American in an Anglo world is
Navajo Greg Choe's "Tocito Waits for Boarding School
Bus." Claw-like hands of a grandmother image clutch at
the shoulders of a young Indian boy wearing a school
beanie, amid hostile and malevolent symbols and shadows.
"Individualism" cannot be distinguished from main-
stream contemporary art. It does not rely on any traditional
Indian visual techniques or on Indian imagery. These ar-
tists are at the core of the heated debate on Indian/non-
Indian art. One of the artists representing individualism
is Chippewa George Morrison, an abstract expressionist
who regards himself as an "artist who is Indian rather than
an Indian artist." Morrison's "Landscapes" is a large
brilliantly colored non-representational acrylic painting
which, in the words of an art historian, "celebrates the
wholeness of order and chaos, instinct and intellect, and
man and nature."
The authors are sensitive and sympathetic to the plight
of the contemporary Indian artist. They feel that Indians
have been expected to produce artwork that meets the
Anglo expectations of "Indianness," and as a result, In-
dian painting by the late 1960s was characterized by hollow
commercialism. However, Indian art is no longer soothing
and reassuring; its intention is to disturb. Conventional
themes of ceremonies, costumes, rituals, hunts and dances
have given way to "social commentary, personal inspira-
tion and abstract experimentation."
Dr. Wade's essay, "The Ethnic Art Market and the
Dilemma of Innovative Indian Artists," explains that while
the art market offers a source of income to poor com-
munities, it condones the selling of ethnicity in the form
of stereotyped handicrafts. This situation has become a
vicious circle— Indians provide a certain type of product
which in turn the Anglos expect and regard as Indian art,
thereby rejecting innovative Indian art. There may be no
room in the ethnic art market for those artists who move
away from tourist products.
From the very first, Anglos took control of quality,
styles and designs by organizing, staging and ultimately
judging Indian arts and crafts exhibits. Patrons rewarded
the styles they had encouraged and ignored or disqualified
innovative works. Such exhibits were ultimately protested
by members of the American Indian Movement and others
who believed Indians were encouraged to "perpetuate a
false Hollywood image of their traditional life," to turn
their private ceremonies into public carnivals.
A harsh critic (Indian) of contemporary commercial In-
dian art states: "Indian art is a bundle of safe decorative
ideas and motifs that have been repeated so doggedly they
have lost all ability to communicate or awaken our aesthetic
senses . . . it is a place where Indians can hide when they
do not want to compete with the great artists of the non-
Indian world." On the other hand, traditional arts and
crafts are still a source of pride for their creators.
Economically they have helped Indian societies survive that
otherwise would have long been submerged in mainstream
America.
"Magic Images: The Artists and Their Work" consists
of eleven full page color photographs from the Philbrook
exhibit. The bias of the authors is evident— of the four
59
categories discussed above, Individualism is represented
by six works, the rest by one or two each. Each of the
eleven are reproduced again in a smaller black and white
version along with a description of the work and the artist.
The final essay, "Beyond the Ethnic Umbrella: Learn-
ing More about Contemporary Indian Painting and Sculp-
ture" by Rennard Strickland, is a guide to understanding
and appreciating contemporary Indian art. Basically, he has
provided the reader with a lengthy annotated bibliography
of the major sources of scholarship on Indian painting and
sculpture. It includes reference books, biographies, auto-
biographies, museum guides, art histories and exhibition
catalogues, and is intelligently arranged by subject matter
and section of country. This section alone makes this book
extremely valuable for anyone with more than a passing
interest in Native American art.
Having explored the traditional versus innovative
debate from several angles, the authors hope that the issue
will cease to be important. They feel that a sound analysis
of Indian art requires the joining together of art, an-
thropology and history. "The future of American Indian
art lies not in restrictive thematic or stylistic images, but
in the individual visions of artists attuned to native value
and sensitivities." Such a philosophy is to be valued, not
only as it pertains to Indian art, but to all creative
endeavors.
ELIZABETH ROSENBERG
The reviewer is a former art teacher and is currently a free-lance artist and drafts-
person. She has done illustrations for a previous issue of Annals.
Native Faces: Indian Cultures in American Art . By Patricia Trenton and Patrick
Houlihan. (Los Angeles: Southwest Museum, 1984) Ulus. 117 pp. $15.95.
It is perhaps unfair to expect that an exhibition catalog
achieve the full independence of a book, yet at their best
such publications do rival their more literary counterparts
in quality and usefulness. Inevitably, however, the value
of such a publication is directly related to the form and con-
tent of the exhibition it describes, as it is nearly impossi-
ble for the catalog to transcend the limits imposed by the
materials exhibited. Precisely these problems are illustrated
by Native Faces, the catalog of an exhibition at the
Southwest Museum of paintings from the Los Angeles
Athletic Club collection of Indian portraits.
The joint authors of the catalog are Patricia Trenton,
Curator of the Los Angeles Athletic Club Collection and
Patrick Houlihan, Director of the Southwest Museum. Pre-
sumably selected by these two individuals, the exhibit
presents a variety of portraits of Indians by Southwestern
painters accompanied by artifacts from the museum col-
lection which seem to have some relationship to the con-
tent of the paintings. Photographs of Indian subjects (in-
cluding some which served as models for the paintings)
60
and of the various artists are also included. Like the ex-
hibit itself, the catalog text represents the two rather
separate interests of the individual authors rather than a
merger into a common purpose.
Sponsored by the Los Angeles Athletic Club, the pur-
pose of Native Faces is clearly to feature the club's excellent
portrait collection. Largely painted between 1895 and 1930,
these portraits are by such artists as Henry Raschen and
Grace Hudson from California; Joseph Sharp, Ernest Blu-
menschein, Oscar Berninghaus, Victor Higgins and others
of the Taos and Santa Fe groups of painters; and Edgar
Paxson and John Hauser who painted Indians of Jhe plains
areas. Though nominally representative of "Indian cultures
in American art," the show is dominated by the Taos-Santa
Fe painters and their pueblo dwelling subjects.
Though ranging in style and content from the rather
illustrative, "National Geographic" style of Grace Hud-
son or Joseph Sharp to the more expressionistic manner
of Walter Ufer or Victor Higgins, the paintings do serve
to document to some extent the continuing fascination of
American artists with native subject matter. Of most in-
terest in this regard is the work of those artists associated
with Taos and Santa Fe during years when those com-
munities became a hub of artistic interest in primitivism,
attracting in addition to the painters such figures as Mable
Dodge Luhan and D. H. Lawrence. As a documentary
history of the particular movements in American art it
represents, the show suffers limits by being structured en-
tirely from the works owned by the LA AC. Had art history
rather than club ownership been the organizing principle,
a more comprehensive showing could have been assem-
bled.
As the interest of the LAAC is revealed in the fine arts
orientation of the portraits, the anthropological interests
of the museum are highlighted by the artifacts and photo-
graphs selected to accompany the pictures. In many in-
stances, items illustrated in paintings are simply paralleled
by actual objects to suggest the accuracy of the artists
renderings. Ironically, in some cases, the artifacts are more
beautifully presented photographically than in the paint-
ing, leaving the reader to wonder exactly what is to be con-
cluded by the juxtaposition. Similarly, some of the
photographs seem intrinsically as meritorious as the paint-
ing on which they are a gloss. An opportunity is lost when
the authors largely confine their commentary to the paint-
ings without much regard for the photographs.
The text of Native Faces continues the reflection of two
diverse interests revealed in the selection of paintings and
artifacts. Both authors speak in independent voices, Houli-
han writing as an anthropologist and interpreter of Indian
life and Trenton as an art historian. Each contributes a
series of short essays on the portraits, one of which puts
the work in the context of art history, the other in the con-
text of cultural anthropology. Since the portraits were con-
ceived as artistic expressions, not as anthropological il-
lustrations, we perhaps learn more about them from Tren-
ton than from Houlihan. For example, a 1965 painting by
Kenneth Adams is commented upon in terms of color,
structure and technique by Trenton, while Houlihan's
essay comments on the accuracy of detail and digresses
to take us inside the building against which the figure is
posed.
In summary, Native Faces more nearly whets the ap-
petite than satisfies it. As an introduction to a neglected
minor tradition in American portraiture, it introduces a
group of painters deserving of a more complete showing.
As an anthropological introduction to native American
traditions, it offers little beyond discursive commentary on
the life behind the paintings. As a book,. it suffers the prob-
lems of a catalog without the virtures of a comprehensive
exhibition behind it.
WILLIAM E. GRANT
Grant is professor of English and American Studies and is Director of the Center
for American Studies at Bowling Green State University.
American Forestry: A History of National, State & Private Cooperation. By
William G. Robbins. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1985) In-
dex. Bib. 270 pp. $26.95.
The U.S. Forest Service is the principal forestry agency
of the United States government. This study provides a
general description of that agency's relations with public
agencies and private enterprises to the present. Mr. Rob-
bins is professor of history at Oregon State University, and
his book is a result of a contract with the Forest Service
to provide a "history of the agency's cooperation with
states and private individuals and companies." However,
the author is quick to point out that the interpretive
framework is his own.
The study, arranged chronologically and thematically,
traces the roots of federal forestry starting with the appoint-
ment of Franklin B. Hough as the government's first for-
estry agent under the Department of Agriculture in 1876.
Hough's task was to quite simply study the condition of
the nation's forests. From these humble beginnings grew
the Division of Forestry in 1881, which achieved bureau
status in 1901. In 1905 it was renamed the Forest Service
and 63 million acres of federal forest were transferred to
the Department of Agriculture. Gifford Pinchot headed the
agency during these key years and was chiefly responsi-
ble for the creation of the Forest Service bureaucracy that
exists today.
Because this is a study of Forest Service cooperation
rather than a history of the agency, Robbins only provides
a brief outline of the origins of the Forest Service. It grew
out of a somewhat tardy realization by an enlightened sec-
tor of the American public that the nation's forests had
been systematically ravaged by the lumber industry and
early settlers with little or no thought for maintaining
future reserves and adequate watershed. Indeed, during
the early colonization of America, forested land symbol-
ized savagery, the antithesis of civilization and the clear-
ing of forested land was interpreted as progress.
American forestry and the height of the lumber trade
"came of age" simultaneously in the first decade of the
20th century. Annual production of lumber reached an all-
time high in 1906 and 1907. It is here that the author makes
the key point of his study. First, he maintains that "...
despite the popular belief that the John Muirs, the Sierra
Club, and the Izaak Walton Leagues determined the
character of the conservation movement in the early twen-
tieth century, recent scholarship clearly shows that eco-
nomic and political issues defined conservation argu-
ments and policies." Concerning the nation's forests, the
lumber industry had an economic interest in forest fire con-
trol, "... timberland taxes, duties on forest products im-
ports, railroad rates, reforestation, varying sizes and grades
of lumber, and the inefficient utilization of wood." How-
ever, the lumber industry was only interested in conser-
vation measures that benefitted it from an economic stand-
point. As Gifford Pinchot so aptly stated, "We must show
first that forestry will pay."
Secondly, Robbins points out that the basic philosophy
of the Forest Service came to embody a spirit of coopera-
tion with the lumber industry rather than one of regula-
tion. This philosophy grew out of the agency's early need
to gain industry support in conservation and wise use of
the nation's timber resources. The two chief foresters who
served from 1910 to 1928, Henry Graves and William
Greeley, were sympathetic to the lumber interests and in
return received their support in lobbying Congress for
needed funding. The spirit of Forest Service cooperation
with private industry has continued to the present day with
only minor interruptions, chiefly during the Great De-
pression.
Therefore, early forest conservation legislation reflects
the input of the powerful lumber lobby and the economic
and political motivation behind the laws. For instance, the
Weeks Law of 1911 grew out of the large forest fires in the
Pacific Northwest in 1910 that were disastrous to the lum-
ber industry. The act permitted federal cooperation with
states to protect private forestland on the watershed of
navigable streams. The Clarke-McNary programs of the
1920s expanded federal assistance to states for fire protec-
tion by providing matching funds to establish nurseries,
enlarge the national forest system and study state forest
tax policy. More importantly, it represented a victory over
those forces which sought to use the Forest Service to
regulate industry. Industry leader Royal Kellogg later con-
fided that the act "established '. . . the principle of federal
cooperation' and routed the proponents of federal regula-
tion." Basically the lumber industry was concerned with
fire protection and had little interest in other conservation
measures such as reforestation. It is revealing that when
Chief Forester Greeley resigned in 1928, he accepted an
executive position with the West Coast Lumbermen's
Association.
Forest Service cooperative programs were perhaps
most evident during the Great Depression when the Ci-
vilian Conservation Corps was created to provide unem-
ployment relief, and the shelterbelt tree planting program
was employed to abate prevailing winds and lessen soil
erosion. The outbreak of World War II ended these pro-
grams as war mobilization absorbed the unemployment
roles. Chief Forester Silcox hinted at regulatory measures
to assure "that lumbermen conducted themselves in a
socially responsible manner." However, in practice, the
Forest Service and private industry continued to cooperate,
and President Roosevelt ordered all regulatory proposals
shelved with the outbreak of war. Wartime priorities
shifted to maximum production and fire control.
The author describes in great detail the various co-
operative programs engaged in by the Forest Service after
World War II to the present. Of greatest interest is the
Multiple Use-Sustained Yield Act of 1960 which directed
the Forest Service to consider all potential uses, including
recreation and protection of cultural resources when de-
veloping management plans. The Forest Pest Control Act
of 1947 offered federal technical and financial assistance
to state forestry agencies to control insect outbreaks. The
Forest Service ultimately drew harsh criticism from citi-
zens' groups, spurred by the publication of Rachel Car-
son's Silent Spring in 1962, for the spraying of harmful
pesticides like DDT. The Forest Service generally denied
the harmful effects and aligned itself against these con-
cerned groups. Robbins spends little time discussing the
role of the Forest Service in administering important en-
vironmental legislation of the 1960s such as the National
Environmental Policy Act of 1969 and clean air and water
acts.
The work is well researched with fully referenced end-
notes. While the author uses numerous examples of Forest
Service cooperative programs in individual states such as
Wisconsin, Minnesota, Washington, Oregon and Califor-
nia, there are no references to Wyoming or the Rocky
Mountain region which would lend relevance to readers
in this area. The author presents a myriad of factual
material utilizing a spare and somewhat dry writing style
not conducive to enjoyable reading. However, his main
points are summarized at the end of each chapter, and the
epilogue provides an excellent summary of the entire work.
The study is perhaps best used as a reference tool which
includes material not previously compiled in one source.
ROBERT G. ROSENBERG
The reviewer is a private historical consultant who has previously written ar-
ticles for Annals of Wyoming.
The Resewation Blackfeet, 1885-1945: A Photographic History of Cultural Sur-
vival. By William E. Fair. (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1984)
Index. Bib. Illus. Maps. 232 pp. $19.95.
In the preface to a World History of Photography (1984)
Naomi Rosenblum writes, "Because of their ubiquity,
photographs . . . have served to confuse and to clarify,
to lull and to energize. Interposed between people and
their direct experiences, they often seem to glorify ap-
pearance over substance." It is exactly that glorification of
appearance over substance which informs most of the work
of frontier photographers who settled in the West during
the pioneer phase and who augmented their portraits of
farmers, ranchers and cowboys with photographs of Native
Americans.
Often these frontier photographers deliberately manip-
ulated Native American portraits to conform to stereotypes
of "Indianness" to show Indians not as they were but as
white men wanted to see them— a "vanishing race" lamen-
tably being destroyed by the inexorable advance of
civilization.
Even the survey photographers like W. H. Jackson,
Timothy O'Sullivan and John K. Hillers, who went West
on government sponsored surveys like the Hayden, the
Wheeler and the King Expeditions, were not immune from
posing Indians as they thought best. Karen Current in
Photography and the Old West (1978) writes that "... the
Indians were grouped, scattered, dressed, undressed (some
with just one breast visible), and re-dressed." As eminent
a scientist and geographer as John Wesley Powell clothed
"some of the Southern Paiute Indians in buckskin and
beaded dresses native to the Northern Utes."
The continuous 19th century confusion between race
and culture and the absolute paucity of Native American
photographs taken by Native Americans makes The Reser-
vation Blackfeet an extraordinary study and one of great
value to historians, anthropologists and everyone in-
terested in photographic history. The premise of the book
is very simple. Unlike most published studies of Indian
photographs, this book is comprised of snapshots by naive
amateurs who captured aspects of reservation life that the
professional, ethnographic-oriented photographers had
conspicuously ignored.
Photographers like William Sheriff Curtis, author of
the multi-volume The North American Indian, spent years
trying to arrange a particular photograph of three Piegan
(Blackfeet) chiefs near a small buffalo wallow during high
summer as clouds scuttled across the horizon. Curtis was
extremely proud of this photo because of its symbolism,
yet the composition had been invented by Curtis and did
not reflect a spontaneous meeting of the three chiefs nor
any aspect of the contemporary culture of the Blackfeet.
This book, The Reservation Blackfeet, is entirely different
because it was developed with the approval and support
of the Johnson-O'Mally Committee, Browning, Montana,
and the Blackfeet Elders Honorary Council. Unlike late 19th
62
and early 20th century photographers who engaged in
"salvage ethnography" to capture lifestyles and customs
which had generally ceased to exist, the amateur photog-
raphers who contributed to this book show life on the
reservation as it was actually lived. The images are in sharp
contrast to the popular myth of the Blackfoot warrior seated
on a painted horse, wearing a beaded necklace and car-
rying a feathered lance.
For instance there is nothing romantic about the photo-
graphs "Issuing old clothing at Old Agency, 1880s,"
"Issue day for beef rations at Blackfeet Agency" or
"Reaching for entrails at the agency slaughterhouse."
These photos are extremely important, however, because
they show a society in transition as do the images "Sew-
ing class, Cut Bank Boarding School, 1907," "Baking bread
at the Willow Creek School, ca. 1907" and the football ac-
tion shot of "James Bad Marriage running around end, Fort
Shaw, ca. 1915."
William Farr's text gives the photographs meaning and
significance by explaining them in context. University of
Montana historian Farr describes the snapshot-quality of
these photos and the aesthetic of the amateurs who created
this valuable photographic record. In their eagerness to
photograph Indians they paid little attention to formal
composition.
Farr writes, "Aiming and clicking, they took pictures
of cow camps, picnics, Fourth of July races, straight-eight
Buicks, and kids . . . They blinked in dismay when their
prints came back with trees emerging from heads, feet cut
off, foreheads blurred . . . yet these shortcomings should
not concern us for in the end they brought home to albums
and drawing room boxes pieces of a tribal history."
The Reservation Blackfeet, 1882-1945 is a seminal work
which reflects visual anthropology at its best. What pro-
fessional photographers failed to accomplish because they
failed to see the mammoth social transformation to reser-
vation life, was accomplished by amateurs who had no pre-
tensions about their work. This may be one of the most
important tribal histories ever published; initial research
was undertaken by teachers at Browning School District
No. 9 to help young Native Americans learn their tribal
past.
The high school students were third-generation de-
scendants of Blackfeet who had lived on the reservation
yet they had no conception of their own roots and their
own history. As the teachers sought photographs to help
Indian youth understand reservation life, ". . .a haunt-
ing, vital question underlay so many glances, so many ac-
tions and decisions: how much could Indian people change
and yet remain essentially Indian? Phrased in its crudest
and most obvious form, if you don't look like a stereotype
Indian, can you be one?"
As Farr notes in the preface to the book, "This con-
flict between change and cultural survival surfaced as the
central theme of this photographic history." The Reserva-
tion Blackfeet, 1882-1945 is a major scholarly work on several
levels— visual anthropology, photographic history and
social history. The book also fulfills tenets of local history
by aiding people in comprehending and assimilating their
own past. The photographs are carefully reproduced, the
few maps are essential and the index provides easy
reference.
The Blackfeet Elders Honorary Council, Farr and the
University of Washington Press should all be commended
for this important contribution to Western history which
provides an intimate look at a proud people and an in-
valuable analysis of a society in transition.
ANDREW GULLIFORD
Gulliford is in the American Culture Ph.D. program at Bowling Green State
University.
o3
INDEX
Albrin, Lot B., review of Washakie: A Wyoming County History, 55
American Forestry: A History of National, State and Private Cooperation, by
William G. Robbins, review, 61-62
American Immigration and Distribution League of New York City, 26
American Protective Association, 24
American Protestantism and United States Indian Policy, 1869-82, by Robert
H. Keller, Jr., review, 57-58
Amoretti, Eugene Jr., 25; photo, 26
Armstrong, Walt, 4
Arnold, C. P., 10-12; photo, 11
B
Bachman, Dona R., review of A Day at a Time: The Diary Literature of
American Women from 1764 to the Present, 58
Baird, Miss , 3
Bauman, Paula, M., "Single Women Homesteaders in Wyoming,
1880-1930," 39-51; biog., 68
Beecher, Catherine, 44-45
Beitel, Alice, 10
Bender, Dora, 3
Blackburn, Quin A., 16
Blair, Mrs. , 6
Blakesly, , 4
Bosler, Frank C, 26
Bresnahen, Lawrence R., 25
Briggs, Charles Augustus, 9-10, 12-13
Brink, Beverly Elaine, Wyoming-Land of the Echoing Canyons, review, 54
Brooks, Bryant B., 26, 31
Brooks, Mary (Mrs. Bryant B.), 31
Bryan, William Jennings, 13
Buffalo Basin, Wyoming, 2
Buffalo Centennial Book Committee, Buffalo's First Century, review, 55-56
Buffalo's First Century, by the Buffalo Centennial Book Committee, review,
55-56
D
Dale, Harrison C, 28
A Day at a Time: The Diary Literature of American Women from 1764 to the
Present, edited and with an introduction by Margo Culley, review, 58
Debs, Eugene V., 13
Deike, Frederika, 43, 47
DeLap, Dave, 16
Denver Express, 27
DePirro, Andy, 16
Desert Land Act of 1877, 41
Dictionary of Races or Peoples, 22
Dillingham Commission, 22, 26
Dillingham, Sen. 22
Donnell, James, 2
Douglas Budget, 28
Dustin, George, 4
Eaton, Edna Norris, 45
Farr, Burr, 3-4
Farr, Ermon, 6
Farr, Lois, 6
Farr, William E., The Resewation Blackfeet, 1885-1945: A Photographic History
of Cultural Survival, review, 62-63
Fell, Bessie, 41-42, 46
Flint, Leona, 3
Foight, Harry, 3-4
Fox, Bessie, 41, 45
Francis, Jack, 6
Francis, Marie, 6
Frank, Meyer, 25; photo, 25
Friesen, Gerald, The Canadian Prairies-A History, review, 56-57
Fryxell, Fritioff M., 16-19
c
Calico Hill, 47
Cameron, K. O., 3
The Canadian Prairies— A History, by Gerald Friesen, review, 56-57
Cardoso, Lawrence A., "Nativism in Wyoming, 1868 to 1930," 20-38; biog.,
68
Carey Act, 41
Carey, Robert B., 26, 30, 32-33; photo, 30
Carey, Sen. Joseph M., 26; photo, 30
Casper Daily Tribune, 34
Casper Record, 27
Cheyenne Daily Leader, 21
Claypool, Sarah Barbara, 47
Close, Ralph, 4
Connell, Evan S., Son of the Morning Star, Custer and the Little Bighorn,
review, 56
Crumrine, Eli, 10, 12; photo, 13
Culbertson, Mary, 41, 44-45, 47
Culley, Margo, A Day at a Time: The Diary Literature of American Women
from 1764 to the Present, review, 58
Gladden, Rev. Washington, 9
Grand Teton National Park, 16-19
Grand Tetons, Wyoming, 16-19
Grant, William E., review of Native Faces: Indian Cultures in American Art,
60-61
Grass Creek Dome, Wyoming, 2-6; photo, 2
Greason, Ralph, 4
Gulliford, Andrew, review of The Resenrntion Blackfeet, 1885-1945: A
Photographic Histon/ of Survival, 62-63
u
Haines, Joe D. Jr., M.D., "John D. Haines Oklahoma's Pioneer Moun-
taineer in the Tetons," 16-19; biog., 68
Haines, John, 16-19; photo, 19
Hayford, Judge James H., 10-11
Henrichs, Walter, 6
Henry, J. S., 3
Herring, Mary, 2
Hidy, Minnie, 41, 45
Histon/ of Cheyenne and Northern Wyoming, by J. H. Triggs, 21
65
Hitchcock, Roswell D., 9, 11
Hogbin, A. C, 12
Holcomb, Mrs. , 3
Houlihan, Patrick, Native Faces: Indian Cultures in American Art, review 60-61
Houx, Acting Gov. Frank, 28
Howard, John, 11
Howell, Helen Coburn, 41, 44, 47
Hoyt, Gov. John W., 23-24
Huff, Lloyd, 4
Huff, Roy, 4
Huss, John, 9
J
Jenny Lake, Wyoming, 16-18; photo, 19
"John D. Haines Oklahoma's Pioneer Mountaineer in the Tetons," by Joe
D. Haines, Jr., M.D., 16-19
Jolly Dry Farmers, 47
o
Ohio Oil Company, 2-6
O'Kieffe, Charley, 42
O'Kieffe, Mary, 42
Oliver, Darrell, 6
Olsen, Hattie A., 45
O'Mahoney, Joseph C, 31; photo, 32
Orr, Irene, 3
Owen, William O., 16
Parkhurst, Rev. Charles H., 9, 11; photo, 13
Pendergraft, Ray, Washakie: A Wyoming County History, review, 55
Petersen, Frank L., 16
Peterson, Emma, 42
Presbyterian Church, 11-12; photo, 12
K
Keen, Vesta, 42
Keller, Robert H. Jr., American Protestantism and United States Indian Policy,
1869-82, review, 57-58
Kendrick, John B., 26-27, 32
Ku Klux Klan, 31-32
Lampitt, Albert (Bert), 3-4
Lang, Lula, 3
Laramie Semi-Weekly Boomerang, 27
Lee, Grace, 3
Lewis, Zeke, 6
Lyons, Blanche, 41, 45
M
McClure, Phil, 6
McCrady, George, 2-6
McCrady, John, 6
McCrady, Kathryn, 6
McFadden, Jack, 2-3
McGeth, Jack, 4
McLauchlin, Susan J., 47-48, 51
Magic Images: Contemporary Native American Art, by Edwin L. Wade and
Rennard Strickland, review, 58-60
Malone, Tommy, 4
Mann, Mr. and Mrs. , 3
"Memories of an Oil Field," by Elizabeth Nuhn, 2-7
Midwest, Wyoming, 2, 6
Mondell, Rep. Frank, 28, 31, 33-34; photo, 28
Mondell Revisory Law of 1909, 41
Moore, William H., "Voice in the Wilderness: H. V. Rominger and the
Social Gospel in the West," 2-15; biog., 68
Moravian Movement, 9
Morton, Mrs. Katharine, 3
Murphy, Alma, 2
Myers, Patty, review of Buffalo's First Century, 55-56
N
Native Faces: Indian Cultures in American Art, by Patricia Trenton and Patrick
Houlihan, review, 60-61
"Nativism in Wyoming, 1868 to 1930," by Lawrence A. Cardoso, 20-38
Nelson, Aven, 32
Nuhn, Elizabeth, "Memories of an Oil Field," 2-7; biog., 68
Quealey, Patrick J., 26
R
Rauschenbusch, Walter, 9
Reed, Billy, 4
Reed, Ed, 4
The Reservation Blackfeet, 1885-1945: A Photographic History of Cultural Sur-
vival, by William E. Farr, review, 62-63
Robbins, Alma, 6
Robbins, Lloyd, 4
Robbins, William G., American Forestry: A History of National State and
Private Cooperation, review, 61-62
Rock Springs Massacre, 24; photo, 24
Rock Springs Rocket, 27, 34
Rollins, Linda G., review of Wyoming-Land of the Echoing Canyons, 54
Rominger, Alice, 10, 14
Rominger, Henry Virgil, 9-14
Rosenberg, Elizabeth, review of Magic Images: Contemporary Native American
Art, 58-60
Rosenberg, Robert G., review of American Forestry: A History of National,
State and Private Cooperation, 61-62
Ross, Edward Allsworth, 28
Ross, Gov. William B., 31; photo, 31
Ruskin, John, 11
Sacco, Nicola, 13
Schenck, Roy, 26
Sealy, Shakespeare E., 24
Seaton, W. C, 3
Sheridan Post, 28
Shive, John, 16
"Single Women Homesteaders in Wyoming, 1880-1930," by Paula M.
Bauman, 39-51
Slosson, Edwin E., 10, 12; photo, 13
Smiley, Elmer E., 10
Smith, Florence Blake, 41, 43-47
Smotherman, Gerald, 4
Snyder, Oscar, 6
Son of the Morning Star, Custer and the Little Bighorn, by Evan S. Connell,
review, 56
Spalding, Franklin S., 16
Split Ticket Association of Cleveland, Ohio, 26
Standolind Oil Co., 4
St. Clair, E. D., 3
66
Stewart, Elinore Pruitt, 42-43,45-46
Stewart, Clyde, 43, 46
Strickland, Rennard, Magic Images: Contemporary/ Native American Art,
review, 58-60
Stuckenberg, J. H. W., 9, 11
Tate, Michael L., review of American Protestantism and United States In-
dian Policy, 1869-82, 57-58
Taylor, Dr , 4
Thomas, Dr. , 4
Thompson, Burton, review of Son of the Morning Star, Custer and the Little
Bighorn, 56
Timber Culture Act of 1873, 40
Trenton, Patricia, Native Faces: Indian Cultures in American Art, review 60-61
Triggs, J. H„ 21
U
Union Presbyterian Church, 10
V
Vagner, Charles L., 25; photo, 25
Vanzetti, Bartolomeo, 13
"Voice in the Wilderness: H. V. Rominger and the Social Gospel in the
West," by William H. Moore, 2-15; biog., 66
W
Wade, Edwin L., Magic Images: Contemporary Native American Art, review,
58-60
Walker, G. S., 23
Walker, Mary C, review of The Canadian Prairies-A History, 56-57
Wanamaker, Cora, 27
Warren, Sen. Francis E., 21, 33-34; photo, 22
Washakie: A Wyoming County History, by Ray Pendergraft, review, 55
Waslingford, Elmer, 4
Watkins, Ida, 47
Weland, John, 4
Williams, Edgar, 4
Wilson, Pres. Woodrow, 27, 34
Winter, Charles E., 31; photo, 31
Women's Christian Temperance Union (WCTU), 11
Wyoming Industrial Journal, 23
Wyoming-Land of the Echoing Canyons, by Beverly Elaine Brink, review, 54
Wyoming Publicity Association, 26
67
CONTRIBUTORS
PAULA M. BAUMAN has served as Director of the
Cheyenne Frontier Days Museum since 1983. In that time,
she has created many interesting and informative exhibits
and has hosted a number of important art shows. Her fam-
ily has lived in Wyoming for five generations and presently
is engaged in ranching in the eastern part of Laramie
County. Bauman received both her Bachelor's and Master's
degrees from the University of Wyoming.
LAWRENCE A. CARDOSO is an Associate Professor of
History at the University of Wyoming. Originally from
Connecticut, he obtained his Ph.D. there in 1974. He has
published extensively and his list of scholarly efforts in-
cludes the book Mexican Emigration to the United States done
by the University of Arizona Press in Tucson.
JOE D. HAINES, Jr. is a physician and rancher in
Skiatook, Oklahoma. His interest in histor/ includes
membership in the Hominy, Oklahoma Heritage Associa-
tion and in the Oklahoma Historical Society. He has
authored ten historical and four medical articles.
WILLIAM H. MOORE is currently an Associate Professor
of History at the University of Wyoming, with an emphasis
on 20th Century U.S. events. He is particularly interested
in the post World War II period. Moore has authored a
number of articles and in 1974, the University of Missouri
Press published his book, The Kefauver Committee and the
Politics of Crime.
ELIZABETH NUHN is a retired teacher who began her
career in Byron and Lovell schools. She has belonged to
several literary organizations and has authored three
books, on two occasions, serving as a co-author. She lists
painting, writing and reading as leisure time activities.
68
WYOMING STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY
The Wyoming State Historical Society was organized in October, 1953.
Membership is open to anyone interested in history. County chapters of the society
have been chartered in most of the twenty-three counties of Wyoming. Past
presidents of the society include; Frank Bowron, Casper, 1953-55; William L.
Marion, Lander, 1955-56; Dr. DeWitt Dominick, Cody, 1956-57; Dr. T. A. Lar-
son, Laramie, 1957-58; A. H. MacDougall, Rawlins, 1958-59; Mrs. Thelma G. Con-
dit, Buffalo, 1959-60; E. A. Littleton, Gillette, 1960-61; Edness Kimball Wilkins,
Casper, 1961-62; Charles Ritter, Cheyenne, 1962-63; Neal E. Miller, Rawlins,
1963-65; Mrs. Charles Hord, Casper, 1965-66; Glenn Sweem, Sheridan, 1966-67;
Adrian Reynolds, Green River, 1967-68; Curtiss Root, Torrington, 1968-69; Mrs.
Hattie Burnstad, Worland, 1969-70; J. Reuel Armstrong, Rawlins, 1970-71; William
R. Dubois, Cheyenne, 1971-72; Henry F. Chadey, Rock Springs, 1972-73; Richard
S. Dumbrill, Newcastle, 1973-74; Henry Jensen, Casper, 1974-75; Jay Brazelton,
Jackson, 1975-76; Ray Pendergraft, Worland, 1976-77; David J. Wadsen, Cody,
1977-78; Mabel Brown, Newcastle, 1978-79; James June, Green River, 1979-80;
William F. Bragg, Jr., Casper, 1980-81; Don Hodgson, Torrington, 1981-82, Clara
Jensen, Lysite-Casper, 1982-83; Fern Gaensslen, Green River, 1983-84; Dave
Kathka, Rock Springs, 1984-85.
Membership information may be obtained from the Executive Headquarters,
Wyoming State Historical Society, Barrett Building, Cheyenne, Wyoming 82002.
Dues in the state society are:
Life Membership $100
Joint Life Membership (husband and wife) $150
Annual Membership $5
Joint Annual Membership (two persons of same family
at same address) $7
Institutional Membership $10
President, Mary Garman, Sundance
First Vice President, Ellen Mueller, Cheyenne
1985-1986 Second Vice President, Mary Nielsen, Cody
Officers Secretary-Treasurer, Loren Jost, Riverton
Executive-Secretary, Dr. Robert D. Bush
Coordinator, Judy West
a4
NNALS of
WYOMING
Volume 58, No. 2 Fall, 1986
THE WYOMING STATE ARCHIVES, MUSEUMS AND HISTORICAL DEPARTMENT
The function of the Wyoming State Archives, Museums and Historical Department is
to collect and preserve materials which tell the story of Wyoming. It maintains the state's
historical library and research center, the Wyoming State Museum and branch museums,
the State Art Gallery and the State Archives. The Department solicits original records such
as diaries, letters, books, early newspapers, maps, photographs and art and records of early
businesses and organizations as well as artifacts for museum display. The Department asks
for the assistance of all Wyoming citizens to secure these documents and artifacts. Depart-
ment facilities are designed to preserve these materials from loss and deterioration. The State
Historic Preservation Office is also located in the Department.
WYOMING STATE LIBRARY, ARCHIVES, MUSEUMS AND HISTORICAL BOARD
Frank Bowron, Casper, Chairman
Lucille Clarke Dumbrill, Newcastle
Dave Paulley, Cheyenne
Mary Sawaya, Kemmerer
Tom Mangan, Laramie
Bill Bruce Hines, Gillette
Marion Barngrover, Worland
Gladys Hill, Douglas
Mary Guthrie, Attorney General's Office, Ex-officio
EDITORIAL ADVISORY BOARD
Dona Bachman
James Donahue
Rick Ewig
Mark Junge
Linda Rollins
Ellen Mueller, Ex-officio
President, Wyoming State Historical Society
Frank Bowron, Ex-officio
Chairman, State Library, Archives, Museums and Historical Board
ABOUT THE COVER— An early photograph of "Old Main, " when it housed the entire University
of Wyoming. Wyoming Territorial Governor Francis E. Warren signed the act authorizing the establish-
ment of the University on March 4, 1886. The bill also appropriated $50,000 for the construction of
a building, which would become known as Old Main. Construction began in 1886, with the cornerstone
being laid September 27, 1886. One year later the University opened its doors to students. Today, Old
Main is one of Wyoming's most distinctive public buildings and is on the National Register of Historic
Places.
The editorial staff of Annals of Wyoming dedicate this issue to Bill Bar-
ton, who died September 21, 1986. Bill worked for the Wyoming State
Archives, Museums and Historical Department since 1975. Beginning as
a research historian, he eventually became head of the Historical Research
and Publications Division. Bill's responsibilities included serving as
Managing Editor of the Wyoming State Press, which produces numerous
historical publications including the Calendar of Wyoming History. Bill
was Editor of Annals of Wyoming since 1981.
NNALS of WYOMING
Volume 58, No. 2
Fall, 1986
GOVERNOR OF WYOMING
Ed Herschler
DIRECTOR
Dr. Robert D. Bush
EDITOR
William H. Barton
ASSISTANT EDITORS
Jean Brainerd
Rick Ewig
Roger Joyce
Ann Nelson
EDITORIAL ASSISTANTS
Kathy Martinez
Judy West
PHOTOGRAPHIC
ASSISTANTS
Paula West-Chavoya
Carroll Jones
Ed Fowler
WYOMING STATE PRESS
MANAGING EDITOR
William H. Barton
TABLE OF CONTENTS
FORT LARAMIE HIJINKS:
A New Manuscript Account
by Thomas B. Brumbaugh
MISPERCEPTION AND PUBLIC POLICY:
A Case Study Based on the Annual
Reports of the Commissioners of
Indian Affairs, 1829-1890
by Robert L. Munkres
10
WYOMING'S SENATOR JOHN BENJAMIN KENDRICK:
The Politics of Oil, Public Land and
National Park Legislation in the 1920s 22
by Eugene T. Carroll
EDUCATION FOR HEAD OR HAND?
Land Grant Universities of Utah and Wyoming 30
by D. Teddy Diggs
WYOMING'S TRUSS BRIDGES 46
by Rheba C. Massey and Rick Ewig
REVIEWS 55
CONTRIBUTORS 61
INDEX 62
ANNALS OF WYOMING is published biannually in the Spring and Fall by the Wyoming
State Press. It is received by all members of the Wyoming State Historical Society as the of-
ficial publication of that organization. Copies of previous and current issues rn.iv be purchased
from the Editor. Correspondence should be addressed to the Editor. Published articles repre-
sent the views of the author and are not necessarily those of the Wyoming State Archives
Museums and Historical Department or the Wyoming State Historical Society. ANNALS OF
WYOMING articles are abstracted in Historical Abstracts. America: History and 1 ife.
« ' Copyright ll'Hd by the Wyoming St.ite Press
FORT LARAMIE HIJINKS:
A New Manuscript Account
by Thomas B. Brumbaugh
"Why is Fort Laramie like a certain vehicle?''
"Cause It's Buggy"
ALL PHOTOGRAPHS WYOMING STATE ARCHIVES, MUSEUMS AND HISTORICAL DEPT (AMH)
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Portrait of the Chugg Water Journal editors, (I to r) William Scott Ketchum, Dr. Samuel Preston Moore, Benjamin Stone Roberts and Stewart Van Vliet.
Europeans have coveted the silky pelt of the American
beaver since early colonial times, and during the first half
of the 19th century, tall beaver hats were among the most
conspicuous male finery seen on the streets of American
towns and villages. Beaver coats were worn by both men and
women, while beaver "throws" and lap robes were sewn
together for innumerable beds and used in every sort of
conveyance at home and abroad. Buffalo hides were heavy
and less luxurious, but also served these and a hundred
other purposes, and the growing demand for furs and
leather was met abundantly as the pioneers moved into
western lands. What seemed to be an inexhaustable supply
of "soft gold" was discovered by the first explorers of the
territory around the junction of the North Platte and
Laramie Rivers, and after 1812, French-Canadian and
American trappers were to take a firm stand there.1
By 1834, a log stockade named Fort William for its
trapper-builder, William Sublette, had been erected near
where the two rivers join, and a stable fur-trading economy
was established there. Increasingly a place of refuge and
refreshment for those early pioneers on the Oregon Trail,
in 1835 it served a number of remarkable missionary-
settlers and their followers, including Dr. Marcus Whit-
man and the Rev. Samuel Parker. On a second trip in 1836,
Whitman brought along his wife and the Rev. and Mrs.
Henry Spalding, among others. In 1837, the artist, Alfred
Jacob Miller, came through on a western safari with a ti-
tled Scottish adventurer, Sir William Drummond Stewart,
and made the only known drawings of old Fort William,
leaving us a vivid record of their visit. Aside from the In-
dians whom he depicted, Miller also met there such
famous scouts and mountain men of the period as Kit Car-
son, Jim Bridger and Joe Walker.
The gradual deterioration of Fort William led to its
rebuilding by the American Fur Company in 1841, when
it was renamed Fort John, presumably for John B. Sarpy,
a stockholder in the enterprise. Meanwhile, competition
from Fort Platte, built nearby, had only helped to promote
Fort John's growth, and in 1842 Lieutenant John C. Fre-
mont, making his first trip to explore the Rocky Mountains,
recommended to authorities in Washington that it was a
likely site for a military post. By 1843, the indomitable Whit-
man was once again traveling through the area, this time
with as many as 1,000 persons in tow, and trade with the
Sioux, Cheyenne and Arapaho Indians, which had always
surged around and into the fort, continued to expand. By
then the fort was called Laramie after a French trapper,
Jacques La Ramee, killed in 1821 by Indians in the vicinity.
In the spring of 1846, the young Francis Parkman
visited Fort Laramie, and in his book, The Oregon Trail,
wrote a lively description of its "inmates" and its
oblong form, with bastions of clay in the form of ordinary
blockhouses, at two of the corners. The walls are about fif-
teen feet high, and surrounded by a slender palisade ....
Within, the fort is divided by a partition: on one side is the
square area, surrounded by the store-rooms, offices, and apart-
ments of the inmates; on the other is the corral, a narrow place,
encompassed by the high clay walls, where at night, or in
presence of dangerous Indians, the horses and mules of the
fort are crowded for safe keeping. The main entrance has two
gates, with an arched passage intervening.2
It was to this shabby oasis in the wilderness that the
first small group of Mormons came about a year later under
the leadership of Brigham Young. By 1848, there were
more than 4,000 "Saints," men, women and children,
passing through each year on the way to Utah. Trade with
them and others was brisk, as flour, coffee, sugar and feed
for horses was readily available— for a price— but the fur-
trading business was no longer lucrative. Clothing styles
were changing and the beaver had been farmed to near
extinction. It was time for the federal government to take
seriously the recommendations Fremont had made some
six years earlier.
Protection and service for the pioneers on the trail was
a pressing problem, and Congress had delayed building
a number of projected frontier forts during the costly Mex-
ican War, but by early 1848, Fort Kearny was secure on
the south bank of the Platte. By March, 1849, United States
Adjutant General Roger Jones had ordered the establish-
ment of an army post at Fort Laramie, and Lieutenant
Daniel P. Woodbury of the Corps of Engineers was author-
ized to purchase the site and its buildings. In June, Major
Winslow F. Sanderson, with Companies A and E, Mounted
Riflemen, became the first garrison in charge. Company
C, Mounted Riflemen, under Captain Benjamin S. Roberts,
arrived in July, and in August, Company G, Sixth Infan-
try, under Lieutenant Levi C. Bootes, completed the
command.
With the flood of at least 40,000 California-bound gold-
seekers, perhaps 10,000 others en route to Oregon, added
to some thousands of Mormons on the trail in 1849, it was
imperative that Fort Laramie expand its facilities. Evidently
much of the military command was put to construction
work under the direction of Woodbury, and we know
from a newly-discovered manuscript, The Chugg Water Jour-
nal, "published" in the copperplate handwriting of two,
perhaps three, of the officers in charge, that by October,
"Old Bedlam," a two-story officers' quarters, was ready
for occupancy. In a caricature drawing of a cavalry drill,
we recognize "Old Bedlam" with a puff of smoke rising
from its chimney, and the nearby powder magazine as a
backdrop to the scene. The same page reports in its un-
failingly wry style:
Several pilgrims from the frontiers, bound for the Hole-v Land
reached this place on the 19th inst. and have pitched their tents
on the banks of Deer creek. Their object in coming out at this
delightful season of the year, is doubtless to make an early dash
next spring for the land of promise. As the grass is most lux-
urious here during the entire winter, if winter it can be called,
when snow is only five feet deep on the level and the mer-
cury frozen, their animals will doubtless rejoice at their good
fortune, which has brought them from the barren fields oi
Missouri, Illinois and Indiana to such a quadrupedal Paradise.
It is to be feared however, that these enterprising gold dig-
gers, like the South Carolinian who took a running start of
three miles to clear a fence, but upon reaching it was obliged
to dismount throw it down & walk quietly over: we say, that
like this chivalrous gentleman, we fear our friends have taken
too long a start, and by next spring they will find they have
not expedited matters much, by throwing themselves &
animals amongst the bleak spurs of the Rocky Mountains, at
this season of the Year.
But something more must be said of The Chugg Water
Journal, published "ADSUM AMICIS ," which gives us
a remarkable view of soldier life in a hardship post in
Dakota Territory. The unique fifteen folio pages, labeled
Vol I, No II, through Vol I, No VI, came to light recently,
when an acquaintance of the writer, a "picker," looking
for flea market items, bought an old trunk with some
papers at the bottom, from an estate sale in New Jersey.
The family name, he remembered, was Van Vliet, and it
seems clear that Captain Stewart Van Vliet (later colonel
and brevet major-general, U.S.A.) had preserved these
pages long years after his tour of duty at Fort Laramie.
There is no doubt that he is one of the "quartette" of
editors whose charming portraits we have in two draw-
ings of the group, and he may have been the author of
part of the text. He certainly amended it in a number of
places, as we see by his distinctive hand. The fragile
manuscript was offered to this writer, who, admiring the
naive illustrations, purchased it with some thought of its
importance. After a little research, it was soon clear that
most of the playfully disguised names of officers are iden-
tifiable. However, the name of that "most distinguished"
artist at Fort Laramie unfortunately remains "sub rosa"
and "incognito, for the time being, as he fears his studio
might otherwise be too much crowded." We wish that the
"beautiful drawing of Fort Laramie" that he made "con
amore" might still survive with the manuscript, but we
must assume it was awarded in the contest among those
"person[s] who shall present us with the best original con-
undrum." It is a sad loss.
The four, but variously named, Fighting, Polemical and
Poetical, Sporting, Miscellaneous and General Editors, all
seem to have been fond of conundrums, jokes about mili-
tary matters, hunting, music, marriage and the women
and children of the fort, if not necessarily in that order.
Following the conventions of such newspapers of the time
as the Missouri Republican, which they imported from St.
Louis, the Chugg Water has little news, and is a collection
of mock correspondence, features, editorials, quotations
and poetry. The "Mo. Republican," they noted, had but
"little of general interest except a few weddings, deaths
and murders." We are told in Volume I, Number II, that
"the Journal although devoted to literature, science, and
the fine arts, was chiefly established as the organ of the
Chugg Water Mining Association . . . but not withstand-
ing this, it will be devoted to the interests and prosperity
of our town, and the edification and amusement of the In-
habitants." "The largest paper printed at Fort Laramie,"
it would appear "occasionally, and sometimes oftener, if
not sooner." Its office was "directly opposite" the Juvenile
Infirmary, "under the hill, but still within hearing . . .
when the wind is favorable. "
Along with Henry J. Coke, an English traveler who
visited the rough fort in July, 1850, we are only amazed
to find among the inhabitants such attractive persons as
"Captain Rhete and his wife, both very nice . . . particu-
larly the wife. It seems the height of conjugal devotion on
her part to give up all society and follow her husband to
such a corner of the earth as this." The summer ther-
mometer reached 146 degrees in the sun, Coke reports in
his A Ride Over the Rocky Mountains to Oregon and Califor-
nia. In spite of the heat, he and the captain went hunting
for wolves with the captain's greyhounds, and killed only
a badger, "but not until Rhete had used his pistol, and
pinned him to the ground with a large knife."3 Captain
Thomas Grimke Rhett ( + 1878), to give his full name cor-
rectly, was certainly another editor of the Chugg Water,
although his military titles were post adjutant and quarter-
master. By 1863, he was a major and chief of ordnance,
District of Arkansas, for the Confederate Army.
Before the discovery of The Chugg Water Journal, Coke's
account was the only one that recorded something of the
camaraderie of those first officers at Fort Laramie. He tells
us of a dinner on July 21, 1850, with a Colonel Somer [sic],
Major Thompson, Captains Dyer, Van Vliet, a Mr. Stillett
and two unnamed traveling companions who "filled the
little mess-room" of the newly-erected "Old Bedlam."
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The editors were fond of conundrums; riddles whose answers are or
involve puns.
Bear hunting near Fort Laramie as published in the Chugg Water Journal circa 1849.
We had a capital feed off a saddle of young elk and green peas;
our appetites did justice to the occasion, and I doubt if we
ever made a better dinner. The conversation ran upon general
topics, and we were struck with the intelligence and infor-
mation of the officers. In other respects, small blame to them,
they were entirely Yankee— perhaps, a little more gen-
tlemanlike and more hospitable than the generality of their
countrymen. They seemed to want the cordiality that exists
amongst brother officers in our army, and I believe, would
"give out" if they were forbidden the use of the word, "Sir."
After all, this absence of formality, which is the nature of the
beast, may be no great harm, for a familiar oath or a practical
joke is often the prelude to unpleasant results.4
Can it be that these young officers were pompously
exaggerating military etiquette, themselves playing a prac-
tical joke on their gullible English guests? The Chugg Water
is so full of fun and nonsense that such "absence of
familiarity" is surprising and seems out of character.
However that may be, it is quite possible that their dinner
conversation may have turned to current English literature,
for a mock-indignant letter to the Chugg Water editors, at-
tacking their "sneers at the helpless and innocent," is
signed by one "Sally Nipper," whose name is surely
adapted from Susan Nipper, the sympathetic but sharp-
tongued maid who appeared in Charles Dickens' Dombey
and Son, published the year before. There are also "Phil
Mayo" and "Susan Mildmay," who may have popular-
novel origins, and there are two woodcut illustrations
pasted in the text, evidently clipped from English periodi-
cals, pretending to show us the "Polemical Editor in a
Meditative Mood," and "John Love preparing for his final
exit from Bachelor-dom." A surgeon named "Fever," and
"Lieutenant Tubber" must be Fort Laramie fabrications.
Of the identifiable "Yankee" officers in the Chugg Water
group, there are at least four who had graduated from West
Point and would fight on opposing sides in the coming
Civil War. That they knew some French and a little Latin,
is clear, and there is more than a little evidence that they
had read enough of English poetry and the Bible to have
phrases come easily to mind in the writing. "We wished
indeed to obtain a niche in the Temple of Fame, and our
ambition would have been satisfied with one in the lower
story; but the Fates decreed it otherwise. 'What Fates im-
pose, that men must needs abide,' " they pontificated.
Fortunately for their fame, they composed and illustrated
the "Song of the Grisly Bears at Chugg Water":
The Hunters are coming, Oho! Oho!
The Hunters are coming to lay us low,
R* * * * * is coming, in his seven leagued boots,
M* * * *T1 be here, with the gun "he shoots."
The Hunters are coming, Oho! Oho!
The Hunters are coming to lay us low.
V* * *V* * * * is coming, and we must be going,
For he's a mighty hunter we know.
Our skins he'll have tann'd to make him a dress,
Our bones he'll have bleach'd, to send to the East;
Our fat he'll have try'd, to tallow his hair:
For he's a sworn foe to the grisly bear.
The Hunters are coming etc.
(To the Tune of The Campbell's are coming)
The names of Rhett and Van Vliet fall easily into place,
and Dr. Samuel Preston Moore (1813-1889), later surgeon-
general of the Confederacy on the staff of President Jef-
ferson Davis, is the third. Post-war photographs show him
wearing a prodigious pair of mutton chops, which may
possibly be seen in early growth on the standing officer
at the center of the editors' group portrait.5 Moore may
have served as Polemical and Poetical Editor and is the
butt of jokes about his being chaplain and a "man of peace.
In an account of the "Battle of the Sand Pit," he is named
"Surgeon Mooreland," whose conduct was "con-
spicuous" for "He charged alone, about 200 yards in the
rear of the column." "Coolness and presence of mind"
was shown by his fellow-officer, Captain Thomas Duncan,
alias Duckman, "who, upon finding that the Infantry were
outstripping his mounted men in the charge, promptly
ordered his men to dismount, and charge on toot." As
Poetry Editor, Moore may have served as something more
than amanuensis to "Zulphe Ann," an "extraordinary
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Cavalry drill on the Fort Laramie parade ground. "Old Bedlam" can be seen in the background.
young lady (she is but little over 40)" and contributed a
bit of doggerel:
The Cheyennes! the Cheyennes! have come from
below,
With the steel-pointed lance, and the long slender
bow;
And are bound for the plains, on the Platte far above,
Where roams the fat Bison, that they so much love.
Stewart Van Vliet (1815-1901) at the "Battle of the Sand
Pit" is called "Capt. Vander Venter," and we learn that
"had he not been obliged to stop and light his pipe [he]
would have been the first man in the enemy's camp." Old
photographs further confirm that Van Vliet is the par-
ticularly hairy pipe-smoker who sits on the right of the
group, the Chugg Water in hand. He was the "General
Editor," we can confirm by his portrait as such above the
"Song of the Grisly Bears," but judging by known ex-
amples of his bold, almost awkward autograph, we are able
to eliminate him as the Chugg Water calligrapher or "that
most distinguished" artist who made such delicate
drawings.
If our logic is correct, Captain Rhett (Alias "Rhettwell")
must be the booted "Sporting Editor" shown in one il-
lustration, but it is also tempting to see the round face of
Benjamin Stone Roberts (1810-1875) in the other seated of-
ficer. Given the aliases "Roberto" and "Signor Roberti,"
Illustration of the Journal's
"Fighting Editor, "who
may have been
William Scott Ketchum.
he is the subject of jokes about his musical skills as com-
poser and performer "upon a novel instrument of his own
invention." Whether for musical, editorial or other
reasons, he seems to have been negligent of his duty and
in 1851, as a lieutenant-colonel, was the subject of a general
court-martial. Roberts was found guilty on all charges of
allowing the theft of horses by the Indians, and the mis-
treatment of animals in the cavalry remuda under his com-
mand in 1849, but was returned to full duty nonetheless.6
The figure seated left in the editorial group, smoking
a cigarette and wearing full uniform and sword, may be
William Scott Ketchum (1813-1871), whose pleasant look
is difficult to relate to the glowering expression we see in
his Civil War photographs. He may be the "Fighting
Editor" (shown "practicing" in a delightful drawing), and
we are posed the not-too-difficult riddle of "Why is the
Commander of the Infantry Company at the Post, a terror
to evil-doers?" and we learn that it is: "Cause he Ketch-
um." Ketchum's war service was that of an inspector,
recruiter and auditor for the U.S. Army, and it may be he
whose correct and legible hand wrote some part of the
Chugg Water text.7
"Multum in Parvo" is the motto inscribed over a draw-
ing of "Juvenile Place." It was there in what must have
been the very crowded living quarters of the old adobe Fort
John, that married officers and their families were housed.
There is much ado about "the large lake forming near the
centre of Juvenile Place," and we are shown in a colored
drawing, some of the typical activities around it. "By order
of the Head Matron, Mrs. Jane Niper, Sec'y," writes a let-
ter in which "bachelor editor no. 4" is threatened with
"The full benefit of the musical concerto, nightly per-
formed by the juvenile amateur— occasionally assisted by
the Chaplain," as a fitting punishment for a disparaging
remark about the "said Infirmary," also called the "Family
block" and the "rue-des-enfants." The editor is asked to
remember that he was once a child, and "probably inno-
cent (when very young)." "A Married Man" who signs
himself "Yours in bondage," writes a letter of warning
about the menacing situation. A sundial that was erected
for the benefit of the community, but by very peculiar logic,
was to have helped keep husbands in "proper training
. . . failed to accomplish one portion of what was expected
of it."
Identifying Lieutenant Levi Clark Bootes ( + 1896) with
Levi S. Bootmaker, Major Winslow F. Sanderson ( + 1899)
with W.S. Sampson or Lieutenant Daniel Phineas Wood-
bury (1812-1864) with Lieutenant A. I. Demisemiquaver,
is still an amusing task for the modern reader of the Chugg
Water. Perhaps it is impossible ever to identify correctly,
all of the some fifteen officers mentioned, with all of the
references to them, their pictures and editorial respon-
' ' fori "
I
■ - s
:■ [-1 BY- •-SLWN- . '--'I
John Love preparing for his final exit from "Bachelor-dom. "
sibilities. No doubt it is enough that we have this reveal-
ing and ingenious document, every page of which brings
to life a group of energetic and daring young men. In the
fall and winter of 1849-50, Fort Laramie was a relatively
quiet and routine tour of duty, and thus they caricature
a hum-drum existence of soldierly waiting, relieved chiefly
by military drill, scouting, hunting, panning for gold (?)
and observing the women and children of the "Juvenile
Infirmary." Their Chugg Water Journal is a surprising
treasure, a unique documentation of hijinks and high good
humor in the midst of ever-threatening danger along the
Oregon Trail. In little more than a decade, these profes-
sional soldiers would be tested much more severely as
Union and Confederate army officers in the great and terri-
ble events of the Civil War.
1. My chief sources for the early history of Fort Laramie are David L.
Hieb, Fort Laramie National Site, Wyoming (Washington, D.C.: National
Park Service Historical Handbook Series No. 20, 1954. Reprint 1961)
and Le Roy Hafen and Francis Marion Young, Fort Laramie and the
Pageant of the West, 1834-1890 (Glendale, California: The Arthur H. Clark
Co., 1938).
2. Francis Parkman, The Oregon Trail with a foreword by A. B. Guthrie,
Jr. (New York: The New American Library, 1962), pp. 83-84.
3. Henry J. Coke, A Ride Over the Rocky Mountains to Oregon and Califor-
nia (London, 1852), pp. 156-157.
4. Ibid., p. 151.
5. For the tentative identification of Moore and others, see their
photographs in: Francis T. Miller, ed., The Photographic Histon/ of the
Civil War in Ten Volumes (New York: The Review of Reviews Co., 1912);
Ezra J. Warner, Generals in Gray: Lives of Confederate Commanders (Baton
Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1959); Ezra J. Warner, Generals
in Blue: Lives of the Union Commanders (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State
University Press, 1964).
6. General Orders No. 11 . . . General Court Martial Convened at Fort Laramie,
Oregon Route (Washington: War Department, 1951).
7. Another candidate is S. P. Moore, who wrote a rather more flamboyant
hand. Authentic autograph specimens by him and others I have
studied, were of Civil War date or later, and thus are difficult to relate
with complete certainty to the Chugg Water autographs.
MISPERCEPTION AND PUBLIC POLICY:
A Case Study Based on the Annual Reports
of the
Commissioners of Indian Affairs, 1829-1890
by Robert L. Munkres
In his very useful little book, Why Nations Go to War,
Professor John Stoessinger postulates misperception as
"perhaps the most important single precipitating factor"
in the generation of open conflict between nation-states.
It is the purpose of this paper to apply Stoessinger's con-
cept (but not his typology of misperceptions) to selected
19th century relationships between the Federal Govern-
ment and Native Americans as described in or extrapolated
from Annual Reports of the Commissioners of Indian
Affairs.
Of all officialdom at the national level, the Commis-
sioner of Indian Affairs was the one officer most directly
involved on a continuing basis in Government-Indian rela-
tions. The information and "expert" opinion available to
him on such matters, therefore, may be assumed to be at
least on par with that available to others. It is further
assumed that, as a Presidential appointee, the individual
Commissioners would be fairly representative of those
elected officials and bureaucrats dominant at the time. An
examination of the Commissioner's Annual Reports ought,
therefore, to yield some insights into the role of mis-
perception vis-a-vis the formulation and implementation
of Federal Indian Policy during the 19th century.
in
Misperception as a result of ignorance, always a live
possibility in the policy process, is both more likely and
more difficult to deal with when truly vast cultural dif-
ferences separate the participants. Thus, for purposes of
this study, I will deal with misperception at two different
but related levels. On the first level, one encounters
misperception arising from observable and recognized dif-
ferences in values, processes and goals. Merely recogniz-
ing the existence of differences in re a particular subject cer-
tainly does not guarantee an accurate appraisal of the posi-
tion of either participant nor of the relationships between
them. The second level of misperception is probably the
more difficult contemporaneously to recognize. It involves,
not a recognition of differences, but an assumption of
equivalence or similarity, accomplished by the projection
of one participant's values onto the other(s). At this very
fundamental level, substantially antithetical substantive
and procedural values may, in fact, exist, but similarity or
equivalence is simply assumed.
Without doubt, the misperception that was both most
pervasive and most influential in shaping policy develop-
ment was that of Indian generic and genetic inferiority. In
the population at large, references to the inferiority of In-
dians was very frequently accompanied by assertions,
varied in vigor and vehemence, of white superiority. While
the Commissioners of Indian Affairs generally eschewed
stark statements to that effect, they accepted without ques-
tion their validity. In 1862, William Dole, for instance,
spoke of the inability of Indians to compete "with their
superiors in intelligence and those acquirements which we
consider so essential to success."1 A little over seven years
later, the report to President Andrew Johnson from the In-
dian Peace Commission stipulated the acceptance by its
members of "the ever ready argument that civilization
must not be arrested in its progress by a handfull of
savages."2 Expressing their own firm desire to see the
country's "agricultural and mineral wealth developed by
an industrious, thrifty and enlightened population," the
report's authors then took cognizance of "the fact that the
Indian must not stand in the way of this result."3
While white superiority was a virtually unchallenged
and unchallengeable belief during the 19th century, the
assumption of Indian inferiority gave rise to a modest dif-
ference of opinion. A minority opinion, reflected in the
1851 report of Commissioner Luke Lea, held that the In-
dian "possesses all the elements essential to his elevation
. . . and which only need the proper development and
direction to enable him to tread with equal step and dignity
the walks of civilized life."4 Lea concluded "that his [In-
dians] inferiority is a necessity of his nature, is neither
taught by philosophy nor attested by experience."5 Some
five years later, in November, 1856, George Manypenny
partially concurred. Though an Indian's "courage is un-
doubted, his perception quick, and his memory of the
highest order. . . . His judgment is defective, but by
proper training and discipline his intellectual powers are
susceptible of culture and can be elevated to a fair stan-
dard."6
In like manner, E. A. Hayt (1878) recommended that
the government "move slowly in the process of making
Indians citizens . . .," noting that "Indians of full age are
infants in law."7 "Entire civilization," he went on, "with
education, a knowledge of the English language, and ex-
perience in business forms and matters, especially such as
relate to the conveyance of lands, should precede citizen-
ship if it is the intention of the government to save the In-
dians from pauperism and extermination."8
To the extent written statements accurately reflect the
basic beliefs of their authors, however, majority opinion
vis-a-vis Native Americans was considerably less sanguine.
From T. Hartley Crawford (1838) to Edward Smith (1875),
Francis Walker (1872) and Hiram Price (1882) a dim view
of Indians predominated. According to Crawford, "Equal-
ity he [an Indian] does not and cannot possess . . .,"9 while
Walker complained "It is always a weary work to lift any
man or people from degradation to self-respect, self-
restraint, and self-reliance. . . ."10 In working with In-
dians, he added, one encountered in addition "the excep-
tional difficulty of a nature singularly trivial, and habits
singularly incompatible with civilized forms of life and in-
dustry."11 Smith alluded to the popular image of Indians
as "children, utterly unable to comprehend their own great
necessities . . .,"12 and Price expressed what was in all
likelihood a predominant view when he stated categorically
that Indians "are an untutored and untractable people,
who are naturally indolent, improvident, and shiftless, and
very impatient of restraint or discipline."13
On the subject of presumed Indian inferiority, Walker
perhaps deserves the final word. In his report for 1872, he
agreed with those who criticized and ridiculed government
policy on the grounds it represented "temporizing with
a recognized evil . . .,"14 but noted that "Temporizing as
an expedient in government may be either a sign of weak-
ness and folly, or it may be a proof of the highest wis-
dom. . . . [Particularly] when an evil is in its nature self-
limited, and tends to expire by the very conditions of its
existence. . . ."15 After all, he argued, "There is no ques-
tion of national dignity . . . involved in the treatment of
savages by a civilized power. With wild men, as with wild
beasts, the question whether in a given situation one shall
fight, coax, or run, is a question merely of what is easiest
and safest."16
With attitudes such as those just described dominating
the policy process, it is small wonder that the Indian Peace
Commission Report to President Andrew Johnson in Jan-
uary, 1868, included the following observation: "Whatever
our people may choose to say of the insincerity or dupli-
city of the Indian would fail to express the estimate enter-
tained by many Indians of the white man's character in
this respect."17
The range of opinions concerning the educability of
Native Americans was not matched by attitudes toward
the educational process itself. Particularly in the Indian Ser-
vice, the desirability of Indian education was generally ac-
cepted, as were a number of goals and the method of
achievement. Throughout the century, there was much
support for the opinion expressed in 1832 by Commissioner
Elbert Herring:
If there be any human means of directing the intelligence
of the Indian from its narrow and contracted sphere, to en-
larged and comprehensive views, it must exist in the cultiva-
tion of knowledge, operating to expand and improve the men-
tal faculties. The lessons of early instruction rarely fail to earn'
their impress to after life. Indian children evince a faculty of
acquirement no wise inferior to those of European
origin. . . ,18
The optimism implicit in Herring's pronouncement
stood in stark contrast to the culturally narrow, but well
defined, educational goals almost universally accepted, as
well as to the methods that were presumed appropriate
to their achievement. The virtually unquestioned purpose
of education was the dismantling and destruction of In-
dian cultural values, and their replacement by values
deemed congruent to those held by white society. Teaching
Indian children the English language was easily defensi-
ble on the pragmatic grounds of social usefulness. Without
*L±*
denying its utilitarian effect, however, most justifications
leaned heavily on assertions of cultural superiority. The
remarks of J.D.C. Atkins in 1886 are a case in point. No
Indian student whose education was being supported by
the United States Government "is permitted to study any
other language than our own vernacular— the language of
the greatest, most powerful, and enterprising nationalities
beneath the sun."19 "The English language as taught in
America," he concluded, "is good enough for all her peo-
ple of all races."20
That the purpose of education was nothing short of
cultural indoctrination was unapologetically announced in
October, 1889, by T. J. Morgan. With no apparent con-
sideration of possible opposition, Morgan asserted that In-
dian children "should be taught to look upon America as
their home and upon the United States Government as
their friend and benefactor."21 There is no record of con-
temporary comment concerning the intellectual oddity of
indigenous inhabitants being instructed about the location
of their home by latter-day immigrants!
Indian children, according to Morgan, "should be
made familiar with the lives of great and good men and
women in American history, and be taught to feel a pride
in all their great achievements."22 This "Great Man" ap-
proach to history was not unique to Indian education, of
course, but its culturally coercive nature is readily apparent
in what was to be ignored. Native Americans, Morgan
recommended, "should hear little or nothing of the
'wrongs of the Indians,' and of the injustice of the white
race. If their unhappy history is alluded to it should be to
contrast it with the better future that is within their
grasp."23
Two more points need to be noted regarding Indian
education. First, the implied coercive nature of the educa-
tional process was not restricted to cultural values nor,
secondly, was its aim totally secular. Physically and
psychologically coerced participation in Indian education
was taken by many to be a prerequisite to success. Walker
(1872) for instance, believed it unreasonable "to expect that
the wild Indians will become industrious and frugal ex-
cept through a severe course of industrial instruction and
exercise, under restraint."24 Walker's assumption was,
perhaps, operationalized with "the establishment of a
training school ... at Carlisle Barracks, Carlisle, Pa. under
the immediate charge of Lieut. R. H. Pratt."25 Referring
to a student body "consisting of 158 Indian children of both
sexes, three-fourths of whom are boys," Hayt (1879)
reported that "These children have been taken in large
numbers from the Sioux at Rosebud, Pine Ridge and other
agencies on the Missouri River, and from all the tribes in
the Indian Territory except the civilized Indians."26 In too
many instances the phrase "had been taken" represented
a literal statement of fact.
That the aim of education was not exclusively social
and secular was manifest in the connection posited in the
19th century between "civilization" and Christianity. In
view of this widely accepted link, it is not surprising that
most officials involved in Indian Affairs believed evan-
gelism and education to be complementary processes. In-
deed, Price (1882) went so far as to conclude that "Civiliza-
tion is a plant of exceeding slow growth, unless sup-
plemented by Christian teaching and influences."27 Not
surprisingly, Price saw "the labours of Christian men and
women as educators and missionaries" as a "very impor-
tant auxiliary in transforming men from savage to civilized
life . . .," thereby reclaiming them "from barbarism,
idolatry, and savage life. . . ,"28
Insofar as the efficacious cultural conversion pi Indian
students was concerned, one other problem boded large
in the thinking of Indian Affairs officialdom. Throughout
the 19th century, there was a continuing concern about
what might be called the phenomenon of "intellectual
retrogression." In 1826, Thomas L. McKenney alluded to
it with a rhetorical question, asking "If, after they [Indians]
shall have acquired a knowledge of letters, and of the arts,
they are thrown back into uneducated Indian settlements,
is it not to be apprehended that the labor of instructing
them, and the expense attending it, will be lost?"29 To ob-
viate this unhappy possibility, McKenney suggested that,
after education had prepared Indian young people "to
enter upon a course of civilized life, sections of land be
given to them, and a suitable present to commence with,
of agricultural or other implements suited to the occupa-
tions in which they may be disposed, respectively, to
engage."30
Some 60 years later, Atkins included a virtually iden-
tical recommendation in his annual report; two changes,
though, are worth noting. Like McKenney before him,
Atkins called for assisting educated Indians in "purchas-
ing a team, in breaking and fencing land, and in building
a house."31 Atkins, however, reduced the proposed acreage
of the homestead from the section (640 acres) earlier called
for to the congressionally established figure of 160 acres.
Further, he also stipulated that the appropriation be open
only to those Indian males "who shall graduate from
school and marry an Indian maiden who has also grad-
uated. . . "32 This combination of requirements and in-
ducements would, in Atkins' opinion, "greatly encourage
Indian youths and maidens in their resistance to the evil
and savage influences of their untutored friends, and
would do much to keep them from a return to savage
life."33
No one has provided a neater summary of 19th cen-
tury policy in the field of Indian education than did Com-
missioner T. J. Morgan in October, 1889. Pointing out the
centrality of primary schools in overcoming "the lack of
home training," Morgan advanced three specific recom-
mendations: (1) "children should be taken at as early an
age as possible, before camp life has made an indelible
stamp upon them." (2) "The instruction should be oral
and objective, and in the highest degree simplified. Music
should have prominence, and the most tireless attention
General William T. Sherman and Commission in council with Indian Chiefs at Fort Laramie. Circa 1867-t
should be given to training in manners and morals. No
pains should be spared to insure accuracy and fluency in
the use of idiomatic English." (3) "The care of the children
should correspond more to that given in a 'Children's
Home' than to that of an ordinary school."34
Morgan was even more succinct in summarizing the
thrust and purpose of educational policy.
The tribal relations should be broken up, socialism destroyed,
and the family and the autonomy of the individual substituted.
The allotment of lands in severalty, the establishment of local
courts and policy; the development of a personal sense of in-
dependence, and the universal adoption of the English
language are means to this end.35
Given the continuing emphasis on the need to in-
tegrate Indian youth into white value systems through
education, there is a tragic irony apparent when one con-
siders another even more firmly supported facet of Federal
Indian Policy— the policy of Indian Removal. Juxtaposing
these two policies results in a curious socio-political equa-
tion. Indian survival required replacement of tribal values
with white values through education. Indian survival re-
quired that Indians be removed from any substantial ter-
ritorial or "social" contact with whites. Thus, it appears
that Indian survival required that educated Indians be
isolated both from their own people as well as from those
whose values had been imposed upon them.
The support for a policy of removal was constant
throughout the 19th century. First, the call was for removal
to Indian Territory west of the Mississippi, then to what
is today Oklahoma, and finally to designated reservations.
It must, however, be stressed that much white support for
removal was, in fact, based on a real concern for Indian
welfare. McKenney spoke for many when, in 1828, he
raised the question,
What are humanity and justice in reference to this unfortunate
race? Are these found to lie in a policy that would leave them
to linger out a wretched and degraded existence, within districts
of country already surrounded and pressed upon by a popula-
tion whose anxiety and efforts to get rid of them are not less
restless and persevering, than is that law of nature immutable,
which has decreed, that, under such circumstances, if con-
tinued in, they must perish? Or does it not rather consist in
withdrawing them from this certain destruction, and placing
them, though even at this late hour, in a situation where, by
the adoption of a suitable system for their security, preserva-
tion, and improvement, and at no matter what cost, thev may
be saved and blest?3h
For people like McKenney there was, of course, always
the problem of Indian willingness, or lack thereof, to be
removed. McKenney believed he had evidence that most
tribesmen were in favor of moving to new territory, "but
they are held in check by their chiefs and others, whose
interest it is to keep them where thev are.",r "And to this
13
feeling," he went on, "may be superadded the uncertainty
which rests upon the future, drawn from the lessons of
the past."38 What might be the solution to these problems?
For McKenney, "The presence of an armed force would
effectually relieve the first; and the adoption of a system
for their security, and preservation, and future happiness,
that should be as effective and ample as it ought to be per-
manent, would relieve the last."39 More will be said later
about the use of the military as an instrument of policy im-
plementation. Suffice it here merely to note that McKen-
ney categorically stipulated that military power was to be
used "not to compel a single Indian to quit the place of
his choice, but only to protect those who desire to better
their condition, and in the exercise of their wish to do so."40
As already indicated at some length, the Indian Of-
fice's rationale for removal was, with very few exceptions,
phrased in terms of benefiting the "recipients" of the po-
licy. At least two principal advantages were, with some
consistency, attributed to Indian removal. The first repre-
sented a curious inversion of what had, for all practical pur-
poses, become mandatory acknowledgments of Indian in-
feriority. As early as 1832, Herring, in writing about the "con-
tiguity of white settlements" to Indians, described such
contact as invariably tending "to depreciate the Indian
character. The evil was always without counterbalance of
possible good, either present or in reversion."41 Thirty
years later, William P. Dole was equally explicit. "A fruit-
ful source of difficulty," he noted, "is found in the fact
that most of the reservations within this superintendency
are surrounded by white settlements; and it has heretofore
been found impossible to prevent the pernicious effects
arising from the intercourse of vicious whites with the In-
dians."42 By the time of Dole's report in 1862, officialdom
was quite cognizant of the fact that separation of Indians
and whites could only be accomplished, if at all, by remov-
ing the Indians rather than by attempting to restrain
whites.
The second principal argument had to do with the
quality and the amount of land available to which
tribesmen could be removed. Operational assumptions in
regard to both matters were possessed of serious flaws.
In 1876, J. Q. Smith expressed considerable doubt as to
"whether even white people could cultivate profitably the
greater part of the Sioux reservation in Dakota," then con-
cluded that "In the Indian Territory, on the other hand,
are fertile land, a genial climate, and room for more In-
dians than there are in the whole Union."43 Both points,
fertility and sufficiency of acreage, were advanced again
and again. Such wealth as subsequently came to be gen-
erated in Oklahoma, however, did not come in significant
degree from agricultural productivity. And the acreage
made available was sufficient (// fertility had been a fact)
only if one also accepts the implicit assumption that no In-
dian family would have more than one child to whom an
estate could descend.
The true reason for removal was, of course, the fact
14
of white expansion. Among others, Walker (1872) recog-
nized that a terrible cost was being exacted. "We are richer
by hundreds of millions; the Indian is poorer by a large
part of the little that he has. This growth is bringing im-
perial greatness to the nation; to the Indian it brings
wretchedness, destitution, beggary."44
To say the least, a majority found little use for Walker's
assessment. As early as 1838, in fact, it had even been
argued by Crawford that removing Indians could be
likened to the mobility of the white population "in the
numerous changes of residence that considerations of bet-
tering their condition are daily producing."45 Crawford
went so far as to stipulate that such moves were harder
on a white who was "accompanied by his family only,
[while] the Indians go by tribes, carrying with them all the
pleasures of ancient acquaintance, common habit, and
common interests." Indians also, according to Crawford,
benefited "from their condition not favoring the indul-
gence of the finer feelings."47
J. Q. Smith (1876) summarized what he thought to be
the most important goals of Indian policy. "First. Concen-
tration of all Indians on a few reservations. Second. Allot-
ment to them of lands in severalty. Third. Extension over
them of United States law and the jurisdiction of United
States courts."48 Having dealt with attitudes toward
Smith's first point, we now move to the second— a con-
sideration of the matter of land ownership and land use.
That Indians would oppose loss of their lands and
resist efforts to alter their life style should have come as
no surprise— and to most whites it did not. Walker, writing
in 1872, was probably representative when he observed
that "It was not to be expected— it was not in the nature
of things— that the entire body of wild Indians should sub-
mit to be restrained in their Ishmaelitish proclivities
without a struggle on the part of the more audacious to
maintain their traditional freedom."49 The manner in which
Walker made his point, however, is strongly suggestive
of the presumptive superiority of white claims. In this
respect, Walker was again quite representative of general
white attitudes. The Indian Peace Commission, reporting
to President Johnson in January, 1868, clearly recognized
the likely policy outcome of such a presumption. "If the
lands of the white man are taken," the Commission report
reads, "civilization justified him in resisting the invader.
... If the savage resists, civilization, with the ten com-
mandments in one hand and the sword in the other,
demands his immediate extermination."50
Whites could recognize, if not respond to, the motive
force behind Indians' defense of land and liberty. They
could not, however, see any justification for or legitimacy
implicit in Indian concepts of land use. From the earliest
times, white authority unquestioningly accepted the ef-
ficacy of small private land-holdings, together with farm-
ing, as "civilizing instruments."
• Hunting was opposed on the grounds of poor eco-
nomic productivity as well as an impediment to accultura-
tion. From an economic point of view, the disappearance
of game (much of it killed or driven off by white activities)
and the lack of new hunting grounds made inevitable, in
the eyes of policy-makers, either "the civilization or the
utter destruction of the Indians. . . ."51 The "cultural"
objections to hunting stemmed from the perception that
it measurably slowed, if not precluded, the Indians' prog-
ress toward becoming "civilized." With the disappearance
of game, the amount of land earlier ceded to the tribes was
deemed to be excessive also. As Orlando Brown (1849)
pointed out,
Most if not all of them [Indians] possess an extent of country
which, however desirable originally, with reference to their
maintaining themselves by the chase, now ... is not only
of no use, but a positive disadvantage to them, as it has a
tendency to keep them from concentrating and applying them-
selves with any regular or systematic effort to agriculture and
other industrial pursuit.52
In addition to the presumptive cultural superiority of
farming over hunting, there were at least two additional
facets of this policy area that merit specific attention— the
nature and purpose of private land ownership and the con-
sensus which developed vis-a-vis inducing Indians to work
the land.
White authority frequently assigned to such legal con-
cepts as holding title in fee simple and distributing land
in severalty an importance and impact more ideological
than pragmatic in nature. All through the 19th century,
individual ownership of land was, in the most glowing
terms, described as an irreplaceable component of "civiliza-
tion," "progress" and "prosperity." Thus, in 1832, Her-
ring noted that "the habits and prejudices incident to
savage birth" could be overcome only "by the institution
of separate and secure rights in the relations of property
and person."53 Six years later, Crawford was even more
sweeping in his judgment. "Common property and civil-
ization cannot co-exist," he wrote, for "at the foundation
of the whole social system lies individuality of property."54
Such singularly positive attitudes dominated nearly a cen-
tury of policy-making. Atkins (1885) for example, believed
"The advantages to the Indians of taking their land in
severalty are so important and far-reaching in their effects
that I fear to dwell upon them . . . lest I be accused of
drawing a roseate picture born of an enthusiastic imagina-
tion."55
Not all 19th century officials were so grandiose in their
descriptions and expressions of support for private owner-
ship of land— but firm their support was nonetheless. Dole
(1862) felt that "becoming individual owners of the soil
[was] a step which I regard as the most important in their
[Indians'] progress towards civilization."56 In like manner,
Smith (1876) was "doubtful whether any high degree of
civilization is possible without individual ownership of
land,"57 and Price (1881) assigned to the allotment of in-
dividual land holdings "the effect of creating individuality,
responsibility, and a desire to accumulate property."58 Not
only does it teach "the Indians habits of industry and
frugality," individual ownership would also have the
happy effect of thus relieving "the government of large
annual appropriations."59
The glowing possibilities so eloquently spelled out by
white officialdom consistently encountered, among others,
one fundamental barrier to consummation. That barrier can
be best described as a continuing question, "How can
potential recipients of this cornucopia of opportunity best
be induced to accept it?" During the last half of the cen-
tury a very specific answer to that question was repeat-
edly promulgated. As early as 1858, Commissioner Charles
E. Mix had recommended not only the distribution of land
in severalty, but that individual Indian assignees be "re-
quired to remain on his own tract and . . . cultivate it."60
Thus binding people to the land is, of course, not too far
removed from a form of serfdom since the Indian "own-
ers" could neither leave the land nor sell it.
Mix appears to have been very much in the mainstream
of policy-implementation thinking. Walker (1872), for in-
stance, felt that Indians had to be made to realize "that
if they would eat they must also work. Nor should it be
left to their own choices how miserably they will live, in
order that they may escape work as much as possible."61
"The Government," he went on, "should extend over
them a rigid reformatory discipline, to save them from fall-
ing hopelessly into the condition of pauperism and petty
crime."62 Three years later, Edward P. Smith referred to
"the necessity ... to compel Indians, through the moral
suasion of hunger, to do that which they dislike . . .,"63
and Price (1881) called for giving Indians "every facility
for making a comfortable living, and then compel him to
depend upon his own exertions for a livelihood."64 Only
through the use of such rigorous techniques could what
John H. Oberly (1888) described as "the degrading com-
munism of the tribal reservation system [which] gives to
the individual no incentive to labor, but puts a premium
upon idleness and makes it fashionable" be eliminated.65
The civilizing efficacy of allotment, severalty and
private ownership of land, which was described with such
moral fervor, was clearly only one of the benefits of policies
directed toward those goals. The other major purpose, very
simply stated, was to reduce Indian land-holdings so as
to increase the amount of land available for white settle-
ment. In 1858, Mix called for a policy of locating "the dif-
ferent tribes on reservations embracing only sufficient land
for their actual occupancy. . . ,"66
Through the years, of course, various treaties and
agreements had recognized Indian rights to a far larger ter-
ritory than that contemplated by Mix as appropriate for
inclusion in reservations. White reaction to such treaty
rights was summarized quite accurately by Commissioner
Smith in October, 1876. "There is," he wrote, "a very
general and growing opinion that observance of the strict
letter of treaties with Indians is in many cases at variance
both with their own best interests and with sound public
15
policy."67 Since "Public necessity must ultimately become
supreme law," Smith continued, "their highest good will
require these people to take ample allotments of land in
severalty . . . and to surrender the remainder of their
lands to the United States Government for a fair
equivalent."68
How much land, one might reasonably ask, was thus
to be "surrendered?" In September, 1890, Morgan
estimated that under . . . special legislation . . . about
13,000,000 acres of land have been secured by cession from
the Indians during the past year; and there are agreements
now pending before Congress through which, if ratified, the
Government will acquire some 4,500,000 acres more; all of
which will ... be open to white settlement in the near
future.69
"This might seem like a somewhat rapid reduction of the
landed estate of the Indians," Morgan admitted, but the
relinquishment was quite justified because "for the most
part the land relinquished was not being used . . .,
scarcely any of it was in cultivation, . . . the Indians did
not need it and would not be likely to need it at any future
time, and . . . they were . . . reasonably well paid for
it. . . ."70 In addition to these arguments, Morgan also
concluded that "the sooner the tribal relations are broken
up and the reservations system done away with the bet-
ter it will be for all concerned."71 With the accomplishment
of this "settled policy of the Government," Morgan
prophesied, "The American Indian is to become the In-
dian American."72
The acquisition of Indian lands by treaty, act of Con-
gress or through some type of agreement was almost
always accompanied by a stipulation of the payment to be
made. One of the most frequently utilized forms of re-
compense was the distribution of annuities. Thus, as In-
dian land-holdings were reduced and reservation life in-
creasingly became the norm, payment by the government
of annuities came to be a feature of Indian Policy as per-
vasive as it was controversial. Though such payments were
initially authorized as compensation for rights or land sur-
rendered by the tribes, their continuation for the life of the
agreement generated considerable controversy. To put it
bluntly, white authority found it useful to promise pay-
ments to the Indians in order to secure from the latter
whatever was desired; the same authority, however, came
to resent such payments once the benefits acquired by the
"bargain" were firmly in hand.
During the latter half of the 19th century, annuity
payments were attacked as a barrier to "civilizing" the reci-
pients. Thus, Lea, writing in 1851, decried the difficulty
of trying to "arouse the spirit of enterprise in the Indian
. . .," which difficulty resulted largely from "the debas-
ing influence of the annuity system."73 And this opinion
was still going strong 30 years later, as reflected in Walker's
stark judgment:
Indian delegation under Spotted Tail at Washington, D.C. 1877. Taken at Corcoran Gallery of Art.
16
It must be apparent to the most casual observer that the system
of gathering the Indians in bands or tribes on reservations and
carrying to them victuals and clothes, thus relieving them of
the necessity of labor, never will and never can civilize them.
Labor is an essential element in producing civilization. If white
men were treated as we treat the Indians the result would cer-
tainly be a race of worthless vagabonds.74
It is quite clear that government officialdom objected to the
manner in which Indians chose to use their annuity goods
and payment to an extent at least equal to those raised
against the payments themselves. Apparently living, even
poorly, off what would today be called "unearned in-
come," while appropriate for a small segment of white
society, was deemed deleterious for Indians.
We now proceed to the third of the goals described by
Smith in 1876. As noted above, that goal was "Extension
over them [Indians] of United States law and the jurisdic-
tion of United States courts."75 Describing efforts to
achieve this goal resolves itself into an examination of two
related topics: first, the methods and techniques through
the use of which the Government could enforce its laws
and policy prescriptions and, secondly, the role of the
military as an instrument of policy implementation.
As seen by Commissioners of Indian Affairs, perhaps
the most fundamental requirement of effective Indian
Policy was that of enforcing the law vis-a-vis Indians in
the manner considered appropriate in white society. If
someone breaks the law or violates a regulation, they must
be arrested and punished. What manner of punishment
might appear to be appropriate? To this question both
Brown (1849) and Hayt (1879) provide answers. For Brown,
"the only effectual remedy . . . will be for Congress to
make provision for the trial of offenders ... in some ap-
propriate manner, and for their punishment, by death,
hard labor at the military posts, or otherwise, according
to the nature and aggravated character of the offense."76
Brown also recommended that the government assume
jurisdiction and administer punishment, in "cases of theft
or robbery, and of habitual or repeated intemperance
among the members of a tribe. . . ."77
Writing 30 years later, Hayt called for removal as well
as punishment of recalcitrants. To accomplish this dual
purpose, "A penal settlement for the confinement and
reformation of the more turbulent and troublesome in-
dividuals among the various Indian tribes is a pressing
want. . . ,"78 He went on to assert the need for two types
of such "settlements,"
For the worst class of refractory Indians, one settlement should
be in Florida, which is far enough away from Indian reserva-
tions to make any attempt at escape hopeless. Another set-
tlement should be established in the Northwest, at some point
where a considerable quantity of arable land can be found,
so that Indians who are thus restricted in their liberty may
be taught to work for their support. ^
That this was a call to enforce white authority's rules
on Indians was apparent, but true "equality under the
law" was hardly contemplated. At least two key dif-
ferences between whites and Indians were noted by Com-
missioners Walker (1872) and Smith (1874) respectively. If
a white man did not like a particular law, he was legally
free to leave its jurisdiction; Walker, however, considered
it to be "Especially . . . essential that the right of the
Government to keep Indians upon the reservations as-
signed to them, and to arrest and return them whenever
they wander away, should be placed beyond dispute."80
It remained for Smith to note another form of unequal ap-
plication of the law. "If a white man commits depredations
upon the Indians in their own country," he wrote, "no
penalty is provided beyond that of putting him out of the
country, a penalty which he readily takes upon himself
when escaping with his booty."81
In addition to arrest and incarceration as techniques
of law enforcement and policy implementation, two other
major changes were recommended— one an immediate
structural change in the political system and the other a
long-term, permanent alteration of social patterns. The
structural reform and its rationale were both straight-
forwardly described by Atkins (1886) in the most vigorous
terms. Atkins proposed that tribal authority over Indian
land be replaced by territorial governments; in his view,
the power of Congress to implement such a change was
superior to treaty-guaranteed Indian rights.
While I would greatly prefer that these people should volun-
tarily change their form of government . . . These Indians
have no right to obstruct civilization and commerce and set
up an exclusive claim to self-government . . . and then ex-
pect and claim that the United States shall protect them from
all harm, while insisting that it shall not be the ultimate judge
as to what is best to be done for them in a political point of
view.82
So far as relations between Indians and white of-
ficialdom was concerned, the notion that the "Government
knows best" was even more blatantly stated two years later
by John Oberly . The long-term alteration in social patterns
for which he spoke out was to be accomplished by the com-
plete "assimilation [of Indians] with the masses of the
Republic."83 Indian values must be replaced with Anglo-
European values; each Indian "must be imbued with the
exalting egotism of American civilization, so that he will
say T instead of 'We,' and 'This is mine,' instead of This
is ours.' "84
That Indians might resist this "exalting egotism," was
a problem which Oberly faced without flinching. If Indians
"shall continue to persist in saying T am content; let me
alone,' then the Guardian must act for the Ward, and do
for him the good service he protests shall not be done—
the good service that he denounces as a bad service."85
And should Indian "wards" persist in their recalcitrance,
"The Government must then, in duty to the public, com-
pel the Indian to come out of his isolation into the civil-
ized way that he does not desire to enter. . . ,"86
As the 19th century drew to a close, what had always
been implicit in Indian Policy became starkly explicit. In-
dian ways and values were not to be permitted to survi\ e.
"The Indians must conform to 'the white man's ways/
peaceably if they will, forcibly if they must. They must ad-
just themselves to their environment, and conform their
mode of living substantially to our civilization."87 Thus
concluded Commissioner Morgan in 1889, admitting that
"This civilization may not be the best possible, but it is
the best the Indians can get. They cannot escape it, and
must either conform to it or be crushed by it."88
From the point of view of Indian Affairs officialdom,
the proper role of the military as an instrument of policy
occasioned ambivalence. Throughout most of the 19th cen-
tury, and certainly during its final half, the Office of In-
dian Affairs and the War Department contended both with
vigor and with vehemence for dominance in administer-
ing Federal Indian Policy. Each department, not surpris-
ingly, stressed its own superior capabilities and insisted
that the other was inadequate. The attitude of N. G. Taylor,
While commissioners steadfastly asserted the need for
military authority to subordinate itself to civil officers, most
also were more than prepared to call upon military forces
to enforce policy decisions and to punish Indian violators.
Thus, Mix (1858) deemed it "essential to the success of the
system that there should be a sufficient military force in
the vicinity of the reservations to prevent the intrusion of
improper persons upon them, to afford protection to the
agents, and to aid in controlling the Indians and keeping
them within the limits assigned to them."90 In like man-
ner, ready resort armed might was implicit in Dole's (1862)
warning concerning the Sioux of Dakota Territory; "...
not a moment should be lost in making preparation to pre-
vent and, if need be, resist and punish any hostile
demonstration they might make."91 "Like the southern
rebels," Dole concluded, "these savage secessionists
Shoshone Indians at Fort Washakie, 1892.
expressed in November, 1868, is representative of civil
authority's side of the argument.
Soldiers are educated and trained in the science of war
and in the arts of arms. Civilians are taught in the sciences
and arts of peaceful civilization. In lifting up races from the
degradation of savage barbarism and leading them into the
sunlight of a higher life, in unveiling to their benighted vision
the benefits of civilization and the blessings of a peaceful Chris-
tianity, I cannot for the life of me perceive the propriety or
the efficacy of employing the military instead of the civil
departments, unless it is intended to adopt the Mohammedan
motto, and proclaim to these people "Death or the Koran."89
tolerate no opposition in their unfriendly attitude toward
the whites."92
As Indian-White relations deteriorated during the
1870s, the purpose for which military force was to be
employed was stated in increasingly punitive terms. For
Walker (1872), it would be an occasion for personal rejoic-
ing "when, in fact, the last hostile tribe becomes reduced
to the condition of suppliants for charity."93 In similar
fashion, at the end of the decade Hayt (1879) observed that
"It is impossible to properly govern a barbarous people
like our wilder Indians without being able to inflict some
18
punishment to the offender."94 He went on to note tnat,
in his opinion, "to suppress insurrections, and to chastise,
by the penalties and losses of war, those who rebel against
the government . . . are temporary evils to the Indians,
and unless the punishment inflicted is unusually severe
the lesson is soon forgotten."95
Perhaps the most comprehensive misperception which
pervades the material here presented can most easily be
described in Burkean terms. The 18th century English
political practitioner and philosopher suggested that,
before a habit or custom (prejudice, Burke called it) was
rejected, some attempt ought to be made to determine why
it evolved in the first place, i.e., what function did it serve?
Implicit in this suggestion is the notion that neither age
nor mere variation from the viewer's norm validates a con-
clusion of uselessness or inferiority.
Unexamined assumptions of cultural and racial su-
periority mitigate against an effective implementation of
Burke's approach. Clearly, the depth and breadth of the
conviction of white superiority was a fundamental con-
tributor to the pervasive possibility of conflict in Indian-
White relations during the 19th century. As noted above,
where cultural differences were recognized, Indian in-
feriority was more frequently presumed than demon-
strated. Even those who were, by the standards of the
times, sensitive to Indian needs virtually never saw Indian
values and practices which they opposed as something for
which finding a suitable surrogate was a prerequisite for
change without conflict. Instead, a continuing demand,
both simple and simplistic, dominated white policy— things
Indian had to be eliminated and replaced by things white.
Three of the most important subjects in regard to which
this problem arose were Indian concepts of land owner-
ship and use, Indian religion and Indian concepts of
honor, prestige and glory associated with warfare. In all
three areas, the dismantling, destruction and disap-
pearance of Indian procedures and values was demanded,
together with implantation of Anglo-European practices
and ideas. The operational assumption seems to have been
"What works for us will work for them if only they will
accept our vision instead of their own."
So far as the type of misperception in which funda-
mental differences are nonetheless perceived in terms of
equivalence, two examples stand out: (1) basic conceptions,
as well as the operation, of socio-political authority, and
(2) the role of combat and the function of war. In regard
to the first, it seems never to have penetrated the white
policy-making process that command authority in the Hob-
besian sense simply did not exist in Indian society. Unable
to comprehend and thus to confront this monumental
4
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JtL s *
&^n
Wv^B
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ij^k-m IV ]
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■^^^■v* ^ArfC
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This group gathered at Fort Laramie in 1868. Included are: W. G. Bullock, Man-Afraid-of-his-Horses, standing center. On the right Red Beat-
shakes hands with James Bordeaux.
Another meeting of Indians and Whites at Fort Laramie.
ultural gap, white policy-makers, regardless of periodic
programmatic variations, uniformly assumed the proba-
bility of a response pattern that was, in fact, impossible!
In like manner, the tribes almost never fought a war
in the sense comprehended on the basis of Anglo-Euro-
pean historical experience. Large-scale, collective combat
aimed at the achievement of purposes defined by group
policy was almost totally alien to a warrior's way of think-
ing. Indian warfare was far more closely related to devasta-
ting individual competition than it was, for example, to
Grant's victory in "The Wilderness." Since individual
combat was undertaken for individual prestige and gain,
certainly "peace" did not mean the absence of all combat.
Once again, however, assuming the exclusive legitimacy
of white definitions, no substitute for combat was ever con-
templated. Eliminating intertribal warfare (as well as at-
tacks on whites) was seen by official authority as confer-
ring upon the tribes the benefits of "peace." To the
tribesmen, however, attempts to ban combat, horse steal-
ing and related activities meant the abrogation of the very
notion of honor, prestige and glory. White policy makers
could hardly have dealt with the problem of possible sub-
stitutes because they were culturally incapable of perceiv-
ing the problem.
The historical study of public policy can all too easily
result in little more than an assertion of contemporary su-
periority based on the indisputable efficacy of hindsight.
It may also become an intellectual straitjacket if it is too
readily assumed that the past provides relatively clear cut
solutions for contemporary problems. Unfortunately, his-
tory rarely repeats itself with a precision sufficient for such
an accomplishment. What the study of past policy prob-
lems can provide, however, is an instrument for sharpen-
ing the contemporary capacity for asking the right ques-
tions. It is hoped that this paper is such an instrument.
All page citations noted below refer to the Annual Reports of the
Commissioners of Indian Affairs as reproduced in Wilcomb E. Washburn,
The American Indian and the United States: A Documentary History, Volume
I (New York: Random House, 1973).
1. pp. 80-81
2. p. 141
3. Ibid.
4. pp. 60-61
5. Ibid.
6. pp. 64-65
7. p. 228
8. Ibid.
pp. 31-32
p. 189
Ibid.
p. 203
316
179
182
179
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
p. 138
18.
p. 22
19.
pp. 395-396
20.
Ibid.
21.
p. 433
22.
Ibid.
23.
Ibid.
24.
p. 186
25.
p. 249
26.
Ibid.
27.
p. 318
28.
pp. 318-319
29.
pp. 6-7
30.
Ibid.
31.
p. 397
32.
Ibid.
33.
Ibid.
34.
p. 434
35.
p. 425
36.
pp. 9-10
37.
p. 11
38.
pp. 11-12
39.
Ibid.
40.
Ibid.
41.
p. 23
42.
p. 93
43.
pp. 217-218
44.
p. 185
45.
p. 32
46.
Ibid.
47.
Ibid.
48.
p. 217
4^.
p. 179
50.
p. 141
si.
p. 216
52.
p. 48
S3.
p. 26
54.
p. 36
55.
p. 357
57. p. 219
58. p. 311
59. Ibid.
60. p. 72
61. p. 185
62. Ibid.
63. p. 209
64. p. 301
65. p. 422
66. p. 69
67. p. 222
68. Ibid.
69. p. 454
70. pp. 454-455
71. Ibid.
72. p. 438
73. p. 61
74. p. 299
75. p. 217
76. p. 41
77. Ibid.
78. pp. 246-247
79. Ibid.
80. p. 186
81. p. 194
82. p. 383
83. p. 422
84. Ibid.
85. Ibid.
86. Ibid.
87. pp. 424-425
88. Ibid.
89. p. 168
90. pp. 72-73
91. p. 99
92. Ibid.
93. pp. 183-184
94. pp. 246-247
95. Ibid.
56. p. 93
John Benjamin Kendrick
WYOMING'S SENATOR JOHN
BENJAMIN KENDRICK:
The Politics of Oil, Public Land and National Park
Legislation in the 1920s
by Eugene T. Carroll
22
Wyoming's Senator John B. Kendrick's congressional
career spanned almost three terms from 1917 to 1933. Dur-
ing that time Congress passed far-reaching legislation in
the areas of land, forest, mineral and water use, to all of
which Kendrick devoted his total energy and time. A true-
to-life Horatio Alger figure, he rose from a cowboy cattle
herder from Texas after the Civil War to a prominent and
respected rancher, banker and businessman from Sheridan
County in the northern part of the Cowboy state. At age
53, Kendrick entered state politics as a legislator in 1910,
was elected governor in 1914 and United States senator
in 1916.1
Senator-elect Kendrick's credentials were presented to
Congress in January, 1917, even though he was still offi-
cially governor of Wyoming until late February. He joined
a group of Westerners who were distinguishing themselves
on a variety of domestic and foreign issues. The group in-
cluded Senators William C. Borah of Idaho, Thomas J.
Walsh of Montana, George W. Norris of Nebraska and Key
Pittman of Nevada. Kendrick was assigned to committees
on Agriculture and Forestry, Conservation of National
Resources, Indian Affairs and Public Lands and Surveys.2
As Kendrick began his term, the nation was heading
for war with Germany and her allies. With a Congressional
Declaration of War in April, 1917, the government im-
mediately began a campaign to conserve the nation's
natural resources although this was not altogether a unique
action for American leaders. From William Penn to Theo-
dore Roosevelt, they had urged the wise use of all natural
resources. The 19th century, in addition, had produced two
schools of conservation philosophy; one, the "aesthetic"
believed that wilderness areas should be set aside by the
government where citizens could come and enjoy the
beauties of nature. Leaders in this school included George
Catlin, Henry Thoreau and John Muir. On the other hand,
John Wesley Powell, considered to be one of the most
powerful voices in "utilitarian" conservation, and Gifford
Pinchot, a close friend of President Roosevelt, believed that
natural resources could be altered and controlled for the
benefit of mankind. The first major surge in this whole
movement came in the Roosevelt administrations (1901-
1909). It was he who set aside most of the national forests,
reserved river valleys as dam sites and followed, gener-
ally, a course of caution and concern toward the non-
renewable resources of the West.3
The most important national conservation issue at the
time of Kendrick's election was the formulation of a
reasonable oil leasing policy which would please the Presi-
dent, western senators, independent oil operators and
homesteaders who had found oil. The climax of Congres-
sional debate came in February, 1920, when the General
Leasing Act was finally passed. One of its main provisions
offered by Senator Reed Smoot of Utah regulated leasing
of government oil land, a provision bitterly attacked by
some western senators who wanted all government land
open for development . . . without any regulations. The
Pickett Act of 1910 had given the President constitutional
authority to withdraw lands as he saw fit.4
From 1914 through February, 1920, Congress con-
stantly debated different types of oil legislation. Kendrick,
in remarks prepared for Senate delivery on December 17,
1917, charged the government with lacking a definite policy
in withdrawal of lands. He pointed out that as of July 31
of that year, the government had withdrawn 56,715,014
acres of mineral lands in the Western states and barred
them from entry.5 His remarks were offered in support of
a bill by Senator Walsh similar to one offered by Con-
gressman Scott Ferris in 1914. Both bills gave authority to
the Secretary of the Interior to grant exclusive rights to
prospectors on not more than 640 acres located within ten
miles of any producing well and/or not more than 2,560
acres located farther than ten miles from a producing well.
The permittee was required to begin work within four
months, drill at least 500 feet and then, within two years,
drill wells 2,000 feet in depth. The Ferris and Walsh bill
perished either in committee or in the House or Senate.6
Kendrick's Wyoming constituents and friends were
divided on the proposed oil legislation. William S. Metz,
a political associate, urged Kendrick to support the Walsh
bill because he felt that the government's withdrawal order
was only a temporary one. Max Ball of Cheyenne and
Leslie A. Miller (later Governor Miller) argued that the In-
terior Secretary should not be able to say who was or who
was not able to buy leases. T. W. LaFleich of Sheridan and
W. L. Larson of Lovell wondered if a bill could be passed
to lease out oil lands to individuals or groups to at least
start some development of the fields. Kendrick replied that
the Walsh bill might become a temporary measure rather
than a comprehensive law.7
With the war ending and the election of Warren G.
Harding, the controversy over oil legislation finally drew
to a conclusion. To W. H. Harris of the Wyoming Oil World
in Casper, Kendrick wrote that he thought the leasing bill
was on "dead center;" to Robert R. Rose, also an oilman
and Casper lawyer, Kendrick wrote that he had offered
an amendment to assist the man who might lose his lease
under the new law. The amendment failed, though.8
By early 1921 President Harding was making cabinet
appointments which would portend a national scandal.
Albert H. Fall, a former New Mexican senator, was ap-
pointed Interior Secretary, while Harry Daughtery was
given the post of Attorney-General. Both were close
political cronies of Harding and closely allied to the big
business interests that dominated the Republican Party.
Early in April, 1922, Kendrick began hearing from Wyo-
ming politicians and constituents about rumors concern-
ing the leasing of the Teapot Dome reserves north of
Casper. Former Governor B. B. Brooks had heard that
Secretary Fall had been granted permission by the Presi-
dent to transfer the reserve from Navy to Interior, and then
lease it to the Mammoth Oil Company. Neither the Con-
gress nor the public knew of these secret actions."
A portion of the Teapot Dome Oil
Fields leased by Secretary of the
Interior, Albert H. Fall' which
caused a national scandal.
Kendrick moved swiftly to the news of the rumored
lease. On April 15, he introduced a resolution requesting
Fall and Navy Secretary Edwin Denby to inform the Senate
about any negotiations with private parties about the leas-
ing of Teapot Dome. He contended that if private leasing
was going to become a common legal practice, all operators
should have a chance to bid competitively. His resolution
was approved.10
Senator Robert M. LaFollette followed Kendrick's
resolution by calling upon Fall to forward copies of the
lease and all other papers relating to the naval reserve in
California as well as Teapot Dome. Fall ignored the request,
writing instead to the President stating his justification for
the lease. On April 28, LaFollette took to the floor to call
attention to the fact that Kendrick had taken the initiative
in the leasing matter, focusing the attention of the
American public on possible malfeasance in government.11
In the fall of 1923, the investigation was started by the
Committee on Public Lands and Surveys. Smoot of Utah
was chairman with Senators Lenroot of Wisconsin, Nor-
ris, Pittman, Walsh and Kendrick as some of the addi-
tional members. However, the work of uncovering the cor-
ruption would rest principally with Walsh. Strangely
enough, Kendrick was not even present. In an unusual ex-
change of messages before the hearings started in October,
Walsh urged Kendrick to return from his Sheridan home
in time for the hearings. Kendrick replied that he did not
believe his presence would be at all necessary. Walsh, in
a telegram, again urged his return, indicating that Ken-
drick's absence might be construed, by his constituents,
as lack of interest in the investigation. Kendrick ended
speculation about his plans with a telegram to Smoot two
days before the hearings started, stating that floods
prevented his return to Washington.12
Kendrick's primary reasons for not attending the open-
ing sessions of the Senate hearings are not revealed in his
correspondence to private friends. He may actually have
felt that he had gone far enough in revealing the scandal
and would now allow his lawyer-colleagues to take the
limelight. On the other hand, his family correspondence
reveals a constant concern about the seasonal side of ranch-
ing and the floods may have been a genuine excuse.
In many ways, Kendrick was more involved with land
policy than with oil legislation. Congressional debate on
land use had been going on since the founding of the na-
tion, notably between eastern and western congressmen.
The problems that the westerners brought to the Senate
floor had already been solved in the states represented by
easterners. In many ways, those problems were uniquely
western because the land was primarily arid or semi-arid.
While the 1920 Leasing Law may have solved the problems
with oil, other laws had to be enacted to resolve the prob-
lems of entrymen who had leased land under the various
Homestead Acts.13
Just a few months before Kendrick took his Senate seat,
President Wilson had signed the Stock-Raising Act of 1916.
This Act permitted entry on 640 acres of non-irrigable land
for stock-raising with a stipulation that entry could not be
made until the Geological Survey had declared the land
eligible for settlement. Many settlers who did not know
of this stipulation had already sold their eastern homes and
started west.14
Kendrick was well aware of the failures of the land laws
which were enacted to promote settlement. He pressured
colleagues on the Senate floor and the Committee on Public
Lands to pass laws encouraging settlers to develop the
land. For example, in an amendment to the Stock-Raising
Act of 1916, he sought to provide leaves of absence from
24
Two v/'ews of5a/t Creek. (Above) Street scene. (Below) Gas plant. Most of the Salt Creek area was public domain,
owned by the federal government. As a result of the 79/6 Stock-Raising Act, homesteaders could claim surface
rights to 640 acres of land. The 1 920 Leasing Act, however, allowed the federal government to lease the oil rich
land to oil companies. Naturally, conflict arose between homesteaders and oil companies, occasionally leading
to violence. One person who filed in 7 920 was Armin H. Ziehlsdorff, but the Interior Department canceled his lease
that same year. Ziehlsdorff asked Kendrick for help and through Kendrick's persistence a relief bill allowing "Salt
Creek homesteaders to exercise rights on any public land in Wyoming became law June 30, 1930."
_-v^
a*
: v
_u,
homestead claims for servicemen who wanted to take ad-
vantage of rehabilitative training. The Act of 1916 provided
that time spent in the service would count as partial
residence on the homestead entry. The problem, however,
was that after a wounded man was discharged, he was no
longer considered a serviceman. He then stood in danger
of losing his homestead by default on the residence re-
quirements. The Kendrick amendment would still require
that no settler could receive a patent unless he lived on
the property for one year, cultivated and improved it. The
amendment became law on September 23, 1919. 15
For Kendrick in the 1920s, much of the controversy on
public land settlement centered around the efforts of a
group of ex-servicemen to lease, improve and hold on to
land in the Salt Creek oil field north of Casper. Despite
the Supreme Court ruling of 1915 that the President had
the right to withdraw land, the Midwest Refinery Com-
pany had entered the withdrawn land and proceeded with
so-called "assessment work," as well as some actual drill-
ing operations. Lands that were unlawfully entered and
seized by the company were patrolled and guarded by
"lease riders," the majority of whom were on Midwest's
payroll. By 1920, Midwest practically controlled the entire
Salt Creek oil field.16
The ex-servicemen had leased their land under the
Stock-Raising Act of 1916, giving each man surface rights
to 640 acres of non-irrigable, non-forested grazing land.
However, the 1920 Leasing Act gave the government the
power to grant leases on lands that had been improved
on by the entryman. Midwest oil land and the potential
Salt Creek field were contiguous to each other.
Armin H. Ziehlsdorff, an ex-serviceman, filed his
homestead application on May 17, 1920. The application,
as did all others, reserved the mineral rights to the govern-
ment. His lease, however, was canceled by the Interior
Department on November 12, 1920, because it was in con-
flict with oil company applications for oil and gas leases
and permits. Ziehlsdorff filed an appeal on January 22,
1921, with the Interior Department, stating that he had
fulfilled all the requirements of the Act of 1916. The Depart-
ment then asked the oil claimants to show how much of
Ziehlsdorff 's claim they would need; when they requested
all the land, his lease was canceled.17
By 1923, Midwest had bought much of the land belong-
ing to Ziehlsdorff 's neighbors. Apparently, though,
Secretary of the Interior Work, who had replaced Albert
Fall, would not withhold cancelations on other leases if a
settlement could be worked out. Ziehlsdorff, however, felt
that with the erratic government policy of leasing, it would
be better for Congress to investigate the Salt Creek field
both in the matter of granting oil leases and the cancela-
tion of homestead entries. Ziehlsdorff urged Kendrick to
introduce a bill for direct relief from the government, or,
to ask the Interior Department to force oil companies to
institute settlements.18
In 1925, Ziehlsdorff again asked Kendrick to help two
other men and him on the lease problem with Midwest.
Kendrick could do nothing at this point. By 1927 Ziehls-
dorff charged that the companies had not attempted to drill
on the land since 1920. In desperation, he wrote: "When
will the government help the entrymen?" Kendrick, after
conferring with Interior officials, found that Ziehlsdorff
might be able to refile his lease but not receive a cash com-
pensation. Kendrick introduced his first relief bill for the
homesteaders in February, 1928. The Interior Department,
however, was opposed to the bill and it died in commit-
tee. The Wyoming Democrat persisted and reintroduced
the bill in 1930, and with the main provision, the, right of
Salt Creek homesteaders to exercise rights on any public
land in Wyoming, the bill became law on June 30, 1930. 19
Ziehlsdorff 's letters to Kendrick, through the 1920s, are
interesting in two areas: (1) the persistence of home-
steaders to struggle against the federal bureaucracy to keep
their land under the Stock-Raising Act of 1916 despite the
apparent conflict of that Act with the Leasing Act of 1920;
(2) the other area may be more implied than explicit.
Ziehlsdorff and other settlers may wished to have acquired
oil rights to the land for themselves in a collective way,
or, they may have been holding out for large settlements
from the oil companies.
Another controversial area for the public lands in the
West was the urgent need to expand the boundaries of all
national parks, including Yellowstone. With the addition
of cars in the 1920s, improved highways and thousands
of tourists, the need for expansion was imperative. Ken-
drick found that his constituents were both for and against
the expansion of Yellowstone. P. J. O'Connor of Casper,
president of the Finance Corporation of Wyoming, argued
that while the extension was needed, the government
should not take taxable property out of the state. J. J.
Jewett, manager of the Riverton Lumber Company, was
also in favor of the extension but was opposed to the in-
clusion of Jackson Lake and the Tetons in the enlargement.
P. J. Quealy, president of the Kemmerer Coal Company,
agreed that the Park should be extended, but hoped that
Senators Kendrick and Warren would support the livestock
interests over the transportation interests.20
Extensions for other park boundaries had become such
a hot issue in government agencies that the President's
Conference on Recreation finally appointed a five-man
committee called the Coordinating Committee on National
Parks and National Forests to survey and make recommen-
dations. When this intensive survey was finished in 1927,
the committee recommended that Yellowstone Park should
be expanded to its natural boundaries in the east and west,
adding approximately 300,000 acres. A bill, embodying
those recommendations, was passed by Congress and
signed by President Hoover on March 1, 1929. 21
Another recommendation from the Committee urged
the creation of Grand Teton Park. Horace Albright, who
became National Parks Director after the retirement of
Stephen Mather, had always strongly believed that the
26
In 1929, the federal government added 300,000 acres of land to Yellowstone National Park.
Grand Tetons should be a separate park. Through Mather's
administration, the idea of the park was opposed by the
Forest Service, hunters and the livestock interests. Senator
Norbeck of North Dakota, in January, 1928, introduced a
bill to establish the "Kendrick National Park," but it was
not reported.22
In the following year Kendrick introduced a bill to
create Grand Teton National Park; he was anxious to limit
the area which was already a national forest. In debate the
Wyoming Democrat indicated that while his state had
wanted to use the Teton area as a state park, the Tetons
should really be a national monument. One provision of
the bill provided no highway or concession grants without
the consent of Congress; another provision would limit the
park to uncultivable lands. The bill passed both houses
without much opposition.23
In addition to his strong belief that the Grand Tetons
should be a national park, Albright wanted to include
Jackson Hole in Grand Teton National Park. He was one
of many who believed the same way. As early as 1898, the
Senate directed the Secretary of the Interior to report on
the area, south of Yellowstone, to determine whether the
Yellowstone Forest Reserves, now the Teton National
Forest, should be added to prevent "extinction of the large
game roaming therein."24
Efforts were made from the beginning of the 20th cen-
tury to the time of Franklin D. Roosevelt to add Jackson
Hole to the national park system. In 1918, for example,
Congressman Frank Mondell of Wyoming made several
efforts to extend the Yellowstone southward; much of the
land incorporated in his bill was in a national forest, and
he found fighting the Forest Service very difficult.25
Then, in 1926, John D. Rockefeller visited Jackson Hole
with Albright, and decided, after seeing the potential com-
mercialization, to buy the private lands and turn them over
to the National Park Service. Rockefeller followed through
on Albright's suggestion of organizing the Snake River
Land Company to buy the land, and named Robert Miller,
a banker from Jackson, to do the purchasing. Kendrick' s
only contact with Miller had been in a 1925 letter in which
he confirms that the government was planning to with-
draw several thousand acres of unentered land in Jackson
Hole for park and game refuge purposes. He felt, as
always, that the withdrawal plan should be talked over by
the various interests represented in Jackson Hole.26
There was very little doubt that Miller paid more than
fair prices for private lands. The laws of Wyoming required
that land should be assessed for true value, and for land
which the state had assessed for $521,037, the land com-
pany had paid almost a million and a half dollars. The pur-
chase program was about complete, and the Snake River
Company was prepared to turn over the land to the Na-
tional Park Service to be added to Grand Teton National
Park.27
However, charges of scandalous practices by the Rocke-
feller people swept through Congress. Kendrick and
Senator Robert Carey, also of Wyoming, submitted a
resolution on June 10, 1932, asking that the Committee on
Public Lands and Surveys be directed to investigate the
National Park Service and the Snake River Land Company.
The two senators were disturbed particularly with the Park
Service over allegedly "discouraging homestead entries in
that area and in harassing residents and settlers on public
lands."28
In December, 1932, Kendrick wrote to Secretary of the
Interior Ray Lyman Wilbur that he was opposed to any
further extension of the Yellowstone and Grand Teton
Parks. In the same month, Carey wrote to Arthur,, Woods,
who was a spokesman for Rockefeller, that in his opinion,
the Park Service had been uncooperative in refusing to
assist the investigation. He added that the committee had
never questioned Rockefeller's motives in purchasing the
land, but he felt sure that Albright misled Rockefeller as
to the value of the land he purchased.29
Even after Kendrick' s death in 1933, the investigation
on Jackson Hole continued; in fact, there was an almost
uninterrupted investigation until 1943 when President
Roosevelt established Jackson Hole National Monument.
The controversy continued, though, until 1950, when
through the efforts of Senators Joseph O'Mahoney and
Lester Hunt, both of Wyoming, all but 9,000 acres of the
monument were incorporated into the park.30
Kendrick's energy and time during his congressional
career were spent in sponsoring and voting for vital
Western legislation. Oil, public lands and national park ex-
pansion were three typical issues of the day, and Kendrick,
like other Western senators, believed strongly in congres-
sional actions that would greatly benefit his state as well
as the entire West. His successors, Senators O'Mahoney
and Gale McGee, pursued Kendrick's interests with the
same great vigor and responsibility.31
1. This article is taken from the author's Master's thesis from the Univer-
sity of Wyoming in 1977 on the congressional career of Senator Ken-
drick. The emphasis in the thesis was centered around the efforts
of the Wyoming Democrat to secure legislation in the areas of water
and land reclamation, national parks and grazing and forest conser-
vation. (See the author's article on Kendrick's early life in the Spring,
1982, issue of the Annals of Wyoming, titled "John Benjamin Kendrick:
From Texas Cowpoke to Wyoming Senator, 1879-1917.")
2. Congressional Record, LIV, p. 938, January 8, 1917; LV, p. 50, March
12, 1917; p. 3790, June 18, 1917.
3. The materials for this paragraph were taken from Roderick Nash, "The
American Conservation Movement," Forums in History (St. Charles,
Missouri: Forum Press, 1974).
4. John Ise, The United States Oil Policy (New Haven: Yale University
Press, 1926), pp. 313, 343; U.S. Vs. Midwest Oil Company, et al.,
59 Law Ed., 236 U.S. 673 (1915).
5. Congressional Record, LIV, pp. 388-391, December 17, 1917.
6. Ise, Oil Policy, pp. 332-339.
7. W. S. Metz to JBK, July 18, 1917; Max Ball to JBK, January 1, 1917,
Box 21; July 25, 1917, Leslie A. Miller to JBK, August 3, 1917; T. W.
LaFleich to JBK, June 19, 1917; W. L. Larson to JBK, June 20, 1917;
JBK to TWLaF and WLL, June 26, 1917, Box 22, John Benjamin Ken-
drick Collection, American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming.
Hereafter cited as the "JBK Coll."
8. JBK to W. H. Harris, January 24, 1920; JBK to Robert R. Rose, January
17, 1920, Box 30, JBK Coll.
9. J. Leonard Bates, The Origins of Teapot Dome: Progressives, Parties and
Petroleum, 1909-1921 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1963), p.
212; Ise, Oil Policy, pp. 332-339.
10. Congressional Record, LXVII, pp. 5567-5568, April 15, 1922.
11. Congressional Record, LXII, p. 5792, April 21, 1922; Ise, p. 358; Con-
gressional Record, LXII, pp. 6047-6049, April 28, 1922.
12. Ise, Oil Policy, p. 359; Thomas J. Walsh to JBK, September 21, 1923;
JBK to TJW, October 1, 1923; TJW to JBK, October 6, 1923; JBK to
Reed Smoot, October 13, 1923, Box 39, J-BK Coll.
13. Bates, p. 198.
14. Congressional Record, LV. pp. 7547-7550, October 1, 1917.
15. See Benjamin H. Hubbard's classic study in land laws, A History of
Public Land Policies (New York: MacMillan Company, 1924); Congres-
sional Record, LVIII, p. 58, May 20, 1919.
16. Armin H. Ziehlsdorff to JBK, February 21, 1924; Memorandum from
Salt Creek Unit, Wyoming Homesteader's Protective Association to
JBK, February 21, 1924, Box 39, JBK Coll.
17. Wyoming Homesteaders' Protective Association to JBK, February 21,
1924, Box 39, JBK Coll.
18. AHZ to JBK, December 5, 27, 1923, Box 30, JBK Coll.
19. AHZ to JBK, February 20, 1925; JBK to AHZ, February 25, 1925; AHZ
to JBK, April 19, 1927; JBK to AHZ, May 17, 1927, Boxes 41, 46, JBK
Coll.; Congressional Record, LXIX, p. 3742, February 29, 1928; LXXII,
p. 6349, April 2, 1930.
20. P. J. O'Connor to JBK, January 2, 1923, Box 38; J. J. Jewett to JBK,
January 8, 1923; P. J. Quealy to JBK, January 8, 1923, Box 38, JBK Coll.
21. John Ise, Our National Park Policy: A Critical History (Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins University Press, 1961), pp. 275-276.
22. Congressional Record, LIX, p. 1473, January 14, 1928.
23. Congressional Record, LXX, pp. 2982-2983, February 7, 1929.
24. Ise, National Park Policy, p. 490.
25. Ibid, p. 491.
26. JBK to Robert Miller, February 12, 1925, Box 40, JBK Coll.
27. Ise, National Park Policy, p. 494.
28. Congressional Record, LXX, p. 12512, June 10, 1932.
29. JBK to Ray Lyman Wilbur, December 14, 1932; Robert Carey to Arthur
Wood, December 31, 1932, Box 54, JBK Coll.
30. Ise, National Park Policy, pp. 495-506.
31. A fourth national issue for Kendrick was the use of water in the West,
especially in relation to the North Platte and Colorado Rivers. (See
the author's comprehensive article on Kendrick's efforts to secure
water legislation in Congress in the 1920s and the early 1930s in the
Fall, 1978, issue of the Annals of Wyoming, titled "John B. Kendrick's
Fight for Western Water Legislation, 1917-1933," pp. 319-333.)
™
[I ^w t .1 I I [/
f / '/i
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Ear/i/ t'/t'U' 0/ (Jfa/; Agricultural College with Administration Building (Old Main) in center.
EDUCATION FOR HEAD OR HAND?
Land Grant Universities of Utah and Wyoming
by D. Teddy Diggs
30
In a recent annual meeting, the Utah State University
National Advisory Council stressed to university admin-
istrators the urgent need for more "liberal" education. To-
day's graduates, the Council explained, are well provided
with the technical tools for successful work in the world
yet lack knowledge of the purpose of their tools and work,
lack knowledge of the values of human life. As one mem-
ber concluded, "The very heart of our way of life is at stake
in the wedding of the sciences and humanities."1
This wedding proposal is by no means new or unique,
either in the national scene or in the local context of western
states such as Utah and Wyoming. Indeed, nearly 100 years
ago the first Board of Trustees of Utah State University
(then known as the Utah Agricultural College) announced
their planned education policy, one which "blended ed-
ucation of the head and hand."2 Similarly, administrators
at the University of Wyoming designed a founding policy
which would introduce technical training, while not forget-
ting classical ideas. The first presidents at both institutions
searched for a feasible combination of the two types of
education. Yet even if the presidents were to find a work-
ing combination, the final key could be provided only by
the local communities. For without the support of the
community— parents to send children, citizen leaders to
back proposals— neither president could hope to keep his
job, much less introduce a new educational theory.
And at the time Utah and Wyoming were founding
their agricultural colleges in the early 1880s, the idea of join-
ing head and hand, humanities and sciences, was very
much in its formative stages. Throughout the 18th and
early 19th centuries, classical ideas dominated training,
while educators strove for character-shaping, humanitarian
goals. Gradually the more progressive thinkers of the age
began to espouse the idea of a practical purpose to
education— education for the hand and sciences. Prac-
ticality—here defined as agricultural, industrial or
utilitarian training— continued to gain support in the
mid-1800s, crystallizing in the 1862 Morrill Land Grant Bill.
With this act, the federal government financially supported
the states' foundings of new institutions whose "leading
objects shall be, without excluding other scientific and
classical studies, and including military tactics, to teach
such branches of learning as are related to agriculture and
the mechanic arts ... in order to promote the liberal and
practical education of the industrial classes in the several
pursuits and professions in life."3
By 1890, the year the Utah Agricultural College opened
its doors, this new utilitarian idea was established through-
out the East. The Territory of Utah simply followed along.
The Lund Act establishing the Utah college stated the
school's purpose nearly verbatim to the mandate as pro-
posed by the Morrill Law.4 Yet even so, the Utah law left
much leeway for further expansion; the school still needed
a firm, tactical policy for its operation. As it turned out,
this was provided by Jeremiah Wilson Sanborn, first presi-
dent of the agricultural college. After the school's open-
Jeremiah W. Sanborn, first president of Utah Agricultural College,
Logan.
ing, and during the early years, its educational philosophy
would be influenced and altered by other factors, including
the college community. In its initial conception, however,
the college relied upon the first president and the first
Board of Trustees for its policies and promotion.
This first Board of Trustees took a natural interest in
the Territory's education, comprised as it was by leaders
of the area. The Lund Act provided that the Board include
the Governor and the Secretary of the Territory of Utah,
as well as the Assessors from the five counties of Cache,
Davis, Utah, Salt Lake and Sanpete.5 At their first meeting
in June, 1888, the members chose Governor Caleb West
to be President of the Board, H. E. Hatch to be Treasurer
and J. T. Caine, Jr., to be Secretary. Next, they addressed
the concerns of building location, design and construction.
Additionally, the Board began a search for the future direc-
tor of the experiment station.6
The Board entrusted this last task to Secretary Caine.
Caine, a long-time citizen of the West, also held ties to the
East. His father was the Utah Territorial delegate to the
U.S. Congress, and the junior Caine had been educated
at Cornell University. Searching for an experiment station
director, Caine therefore turned to his own alma mater,
writing to the director of the experiment station at Cornell.
In answer to Caine's letter, Dr. I. P. Roberts suggested a
Mr. Ed Tarbell and J. W. Sanborn. Caine immediately
recognized Sanborn's name as a noted member of the
faculty at the University of Missouri and as the author of
several important agricultural papers. According to Caine,
he intuitively felt Sanborn was the correct choice and, after
several offers and negotiations, Sanborn agreed to come
to Utah. In May, 1890, five months after Sanborn's arrival,
the Board elected him President of the faculty and college.7
The rationale behind Caine's unwavering decision on
Sanborn was simple. As he explained in a report of the
Board of Trustees, this man was known internationally as
one of the most progressive agricultural researchers. He
was also "a gentleman of broad views and liberal culture."8
Caine perceived Sanborn's strength in both the classical
and practical fields.
Sanborn's practical nature tended toward agriculture.
He had grown up on a farm in Pittsfield, New Hampshire,
and graduated from New Hampshire College.9 In 1882, he
was appointed professor and dean to the small, flounder-
ing college of agriculture at the University of Missouri.
Once there, Sanborn energetically put into effect numerous
long-talked-about plans. He experimented with crop rota-
tions, soil treatments and livestock feeding; he began a
statewide farmers' institute program which lasted for 40
years. By the academic year 1885-86, three years after San-
born's arrival, the president of the University of Missouri
felt justified in retitling the university catalog the "Annual
Catalog of the Agricultural College and University."10
Unfortunately, Dean Sanborn's enthusiasm for success
did not stop with the college of agriculture but overlapped
into his personal life. At the same time that Sanborn was
drawing his salary as professor and dean, he also received
salaries as the secretary of the state board of agriculture,
the statistician for the experiment station and the secretary
of the Kansas City Fat Stock Show. On the other hand,
he denounced his own board's nepotism, proclaiming that
he would pay a board member's brother only half what
he would otherwise pay for some desired cattle. Not sur-
prisingly, Sanborn soon developed enemies; his resigna-
tion was demanded in 1888. He held out a little while
longer— until he left for a job in Utah.11
Sanborn was a man of action, a man of practicality,
a man of agriculture. And agriculture rated first and
foremost. Sanborn's primary objectives as president and
director were to experiment in and improve the science of
agriculture, to teach the worth of the farm and to extend
this knowledge to the people of the Territory.12 Caine noted
of his colleague, "To him Agriculture was far more impor-
tant to the people than many of them understood; not be-
cause it was his chosen field, but because it was absolutely
essential to human life."13
Sanborn's emphasis on the essentials of life was not
at all unconventional. As noted earlier, educators through-
out the country had begun to push for the "useful" univer-
32
sity. In 1883, F. W. Kelsey, a Latinist at the University of
Michigan, advocated learning that would help "the fitting
for real life in something besides discipline and culture of
the mind."14 Neither was Sanborn alone in the newly
founded West. David Starr Jordan, President of Stanford
University in Palo Alto, California, noted: "The American
University of to-day seeks neither culture nor erudition as
its final end. It looks forward to work in life."15 Yet often,
while stressing practical training, these educators ignored
the classical ideas. Jordan never even formed a department
of philosophy.16 As Calvin M. Woodward of Washington
University warned, "In turning from an inherited scheme
of education which faced backward . . . we must not fail
to preserve the dignity and the nobility of our educational
standards."17 Even those who agreed with Woodward
were not sure of the solution, however. Charles W. Eliot
of Harvard University hoped simply that the line between
an educated man and a practical man might just disap-
pear.18
Sanborn's uniqueness lay in the fact that he did not
draw this line. He did not attempt, as he noted, to replace
classical education, but merely "to meet the demands of
. . . modern industrial life upon which really is based the
possibilities of culture."19 Agriculture did deserve top
priority, yet so too did the development of the mind. San-
born wrote: "The educational policy of the institution
never overlooks the fact that man is of supreme moment.
It does not rush to the extreme views of those who would
educate man alone as a mere working machine. Man's
supremest pleasure must come from mental culture. . . ."20
The college's president did not attempt to balance the prac-
tical and the classical into any formal ratio, much less divide
his policy on a 50-50 basis. For him, agriculture must be
appropriated 100 percent importance; yet liberal ideas too
deserved 100 percent attention. Simple addition not with-
standing, both were possible. The two ideas did not, as
was popularly thought, repel each other. Rather, the two
objectives could be met, as the two objectives were actually
one. Sanborn explained the theory in an article in the
Logan, Utah, newspaper.
A course in the Sciences that bear upon the science and art
of agriculture will, as a matter of course have a prominent place
in the college. Fortunately most of those sciences that are now
reported as essential to a liberal and even to a cultured educa-
tion are essential to a knowledge of the laws involved in farm-
ing. With this industry as with no other, a technical educa-
tion means a fairly liberal education.21
Sanborn did not limit his educational philosophy to
theory. From this basis, he chose the actual subject courses
to be taught. Together with the Board of Trustees, he de-
cided on four subjects: mechanic arts, agriculture, domestic
Utah Agricultural College, (I to r) Home of Director of Agricultural Experiment Station, model ham. President's house, Experiment station building,
south wing Old Main.
School of Commerce at ACU. This was the first business school west of the Mississippi. This was an accounting class taken around 1902-3.
arts and civil engineering.22 Yet classical studies were not
omitted. The Board stressed that the instruction in these
courses be made neither wholly classical nor wholly tech-
nical, as man experienced both physical and intellectual
needs. The catalog, noting that "the College authorities
have not forgotten that man is before the industrialist,"
listed the additional courses of English composition and
grammar, German and French.23 Furthermore, the Lund
Act provided for such courses as moral philosophy and
history. To teach these diverse courses, Sanborn chose
what he termed a "cosmopolitan" faculty.24 Professors in-
cluded Miss Abby L. Marlatt from Kansas Agricultural Col-
lege and J. M. Sholl of Purdue. Sanborn handpicked six
other professors, making a total of nine on the first fac-
ulty roster.25 All were from states other than Utah. The only
locals connected with the college were Caine, of the Board
of Trustees, and Willard S. Langton, an instructor in the
preparatory department.
This "outside" faculty was in itself a significant factor
in the college's founding. With only two Utahns in the ad-
ministration, would the Logan, Utah, community readily
accept the new institution? For as Caine had perceptively
noted when he chose Sanborn, "proper support from the
34
people and the Territory" was a necessity for a successful
college.26
Whether or not the community supported the admin-
istration is difficult to determine. It appears, however, that
there was no direct opposition. As for the community's
endorsement of the new educational institution in general,
it seemed that in this respect Sanborn would be fortunate.
The people comprising the Logan community and the Ter-
ritory of Utah were mostly (71.9% statewide in 1890)
natives and immigrants of the Mormon faith— a religion,
it is popularly thought today, which has long promoted
educational training. Among the Mormon prophet Joseph
Smith's many well-known revelations are: "The glory of
God is intelligence," and "A man cannot be saved in
ignorance."27 Studies ranking states of the nation ac-
cording to educational achievement consistently place Utah
in the uppermost standings. In 1925, William C. Bagley
placed Utah second, claiming that the "Mormon Church
from the time of the great 'trek' laid a heavy emphasis
upon education."28
Other treatises followed. In May, 1943, E. L. Thorn-
dike published his article, "The Origin of Superior Men"
in Scientific Monthly. After analyzing the 1938 editions of
American Men of Science and Who's Who, as well as the 1932
printing of Leaders in Education, Thorndike concluded that
Utah led the nation in both men of achievement and men
of science.29 Three years later Raymond M. Hughes and
William H. Lancelot published Education— America's Magic
which placed Utah first in "all-around performance," as
well as first in educational accomplishment, accomplish-
ment commensurate with ability, efficiency of effort and
the education of adults. Lancelot, as Bagley earlier had
done, attributed Utah's success to the people and their
values, noting, "This [first ranking] appears to be due
almost wholly to the high value placed on education by
the people of Utah. . . ."30
Continuing the trend, in 1952 Robert Knapp and
Hubert Goodrich, in their Origins of American Scientists,
listed the top 50 institutions in the production of scientists.
Utah State Agricultural College ranked #25, while Brigham
Young University finished as #32 in the nation.31 A. W.
Astin, in his 1962 article, "Productivity of Undergraduate
Institutions," stated that Brigham Young University,
the University of Utah and Utah State University were
all "highly overproductive." While Astin acknowledges
that it would be difficult to determine the reason, he also
questions whether "certain ethnic or religious character-
istics of the students entering these institutions may be im-
portant factors in the colleges' productivity."32 Finally,
nearly ten years ago Kenneth Hardy concluded in "Social
Origins of American Scientists and Scholars" that Utah
was "first in productivity for all fields combined in all time
periods." Yet Hardy, a Brigham Young University psy-
chology professor, did not merely suggest a Utah-quality
education causation, but directly drew the line between
the two, noting that the Utah achievement "seems clearly
to be due to the influence of Mormon values, because Mor-
mon youth predominate in the colleges of the state, and
because other variables, such as climate, geography,
natural resources, and social class, do not appear to ex-
plain the exceptional record of this state."33
ACU Library on a crowded day taken area ic'()2.
It would be erroneous, however, to take these studies
as a whole, lump them together with the Mormon prophets'
quotations on an ambiguously defined "knowledge" and
conclude that the Mormon religion has long supported
education.34 As Frederick S. Buchanan concludes in an ar-
ticle studying this Mormon-education correlation, other
factors do need to be considered— factors such as those
lightly disqualified by Hardy. Buchanan lists influences
such as Protestant beliefs, professional educators, Utah im-
migrants and the Western environment.35 Furthermore,
while the conclusions of Utah predominance may indeed
be valid— in the mid-20th century— they cannot be simply
stretched back to include the late 19th, early 20th centuries
time frame. The two periods do not quite compare in terms
of education. The 1925 Bagley study cited earlier ack-
nowledges this difference in time, noting that Utah showed
the "most marked inconsistency between its apparent
school conditions thirty and forty years ago [the 1880s and
1890s] and its present high station."36
The less-than-satisfactory educational atmosphere of
the turn of the century decade appeared evident in the
Logan area. One 1902 visitor to the Cache Valley, Ray Stan-
nard Baker, noted his presupposition that the Mormons
would be isolated from the rest of the world by their
religion, mountains and deserts— a people "unto them-
selves, ignorant, superstitious." Comparing Mormons to
people of Eastern farming communities, Baker admitted
that the Utahns possessed as much knowledge of the out-
side world as the Easterners yet were "not great readers
. . . and not intellectual for the most part."37 Another
representative of this line of thinking, Bernard De Voto,
wrote in even harsher terms of Utah in 1926:
No poets lingered there, no musicians, philosophers, or
scholars. . . . Civilized life does not exist in Utah. It never
has existed there. It never will exist there. Those who have
no interest in social or intellectual or artistic life may live there
as well as anywhere else.38
In attempting to explain this Utah intellectual am-
biguity, one fact concerning the early Mormon philosophy
of education should be kept in mind. As Brigham Young
explained in 1869, "Our work, our everyday labor, our
whole lives are within the scope of our religion."39 Applied
to the classical/practical division in education, this meant
that the classical aspect— value and character shaping; in-
spirational, moral and artistic guidance— remained unof-
ficially in the realm of the church, while the practical,
everyday work was handled by "education." Addressing
the subject of education, Young encouraged the introduc-
tion of "every kind of useful studies" into the schools. He
explained further, "I would like very much to urge upon
our young people ... to pay more attention to arithmetic
and other things that are useful, instead of acquiring a lit-
tle French and German and other fanciful studies that are
not of so much practical importance."40
Added to this prophet emphasis on practicality was
a second, environmental impetus. During the latter years
36
of the 19th century, the Mormon religion became exposed
to Eastern ideas— and Eastern threats. The coming of the
railroad to Utah in 1869 brought Eastern enterprisers and
exploiters, as well as Protestant and evangelical denomina-
tions. In Cache Valley, long obliviously isolated within its
ring of mountains, the settlers were soon exposed to this
national penetration. A telephone line through Wellsville
Canyon to Ogden and Salt Lake City connected in 1887.
Small mining booms erupted in 1890-94 in Hyrum, Rich-
mond and Paradise. As Cache Valley began to buy and
sell more goods to other states, national variables such as
war and depression affected the Cache Valley stability.
Throughout the valley— and the Territory— foreign influ-
ences threatened Mormon autonomy. As a result of this
decreasing church influence, combined with outside
criticism of church practices such as polygamy, a renewed
interest in education arose— education as indoctrination,
education as preservation of the traditional Mormon way
of life. Practical manual training, which would econom-
ically benefit the building of the Saints' Kingdom, was en-
dorsed, while the potentially destructive "thinking"
courses of philosophy and literature were downplayed.41
The emphasis on practicality in Utah remains in evi-
dence today. Once again, the nationwide studies show
Utah's relative educational position. Robert Knapp, who
had earlier cited Brigham Young University's scientific
prominence in the 1950s, later calculated the school's con-
tribution to the humanities. In his 1964 book The Origin
of American Humanistic Scholars, Knapp noted that BYU had
awarded 56.3% of its total doctoral dissertations in the
physical and biological sciences, with only 7.7% given in
the humanities. Utah State University's "contribution" to
the humanities was hardly that. The Logan school totaled
61.6% of its doctoral dissertations in the sciences; 1.4% in
the humanities.42 For many Mormons today, the intellec-
tual and moral lessons of classical humanities are still easier
relegated to the church. William Mulder, in a 1970 volume
of the Mormon journal Dialogue, explained that "the Mor-
mon intellectual as humanist finds himself deeply entan-
gled in relative kinds of truth which are not as readily
verifiable as in chemistry or mathematics."43
Yet these Mormon thought patterns were not the only
influence that operated in Cache Valley or in Utah. In
addition, by 1900, 38.5% of the immigrants and native-born
Americans engaged in agricultural pursuits. Of these,
56.9% were farmers, planters and overseers, while 30.4%
were agricultural laborers. Agrarian values provided a sec-
ond fount from which the community gathered its stan-
dards, a source of comparable, if not equal, significance
to that of the Mormon religion.44 In a search for support
of practical, agricultural training in this area, however, the
springs frequently ran dry. Farmers generally feared the
schools and distrusted their actions. Isaac P. Roberts, the
director of Cornell University's agricultural experiment sta-
tion, explained, "Farmers, like other people, hesitate to
believe and act on theories, or even facts, until they see
lit
A panoramic view of the University of Wyoming in 1899, showing its first three buildings, Mechanical Arts Building, Old Main and to the right
the Agriculture Barn and Greenhouse.
with their own eyes the proof of them in material form."45
Perhaps the Utah State Agricultural College benefited from
its relative late start in 1890, for then farmers were able to
"see" results from other universities, although not neces-
sarily with their own eyes. For whatever reason, the possi-
ble farmer opposition to the school's practical training ap-
peared to have little effect in the community.
Meanwhile, a slightly different blend of the practical
and classical was being attempted at a neighboring land-
grant institution, the University of Wyoming. Two years
prior to the Utah College's founding, the Ninth Legislative
Assembly of the Territory of Wyoming provided for a uni-
versity "in or near the city of Laramie." Unlike the
legislators of Utah, the men of Wyoming did not mimic
the federal Morrill Land Grant Bill, using instead their own
ideas on equality and education. The aim of their univer-
sity would be "to provide an efficient means of imparting
to young men and women, on equal terms, a liberal educa-
tion and thorough knowledge of the different branches of
literature, the arts and sciences, with their varied applica-
tions."46
"Applications" was the key word for the first Board
of Trustees. Rather than waiting for a future university
president to devise an educational policy, these pioneer-
ing men proclaimed their own firm views on the worth of
utilitarian training. As noted in a newspaper article sum-
marizing the Board's ideas, the education in Wvoming
would be
polytechnic in character, in short that it shall turn out a class
of students who, when they graduate shall know how to do
something, something the world wants done. While not
ignoring the benefits of classical education, the Board
recognizes the fact that the world has more use for engineers,
mining, civil, gass [sic] electric engineers, for architects
chemists, and mechanics, than it has for men who can merely
cackle greek.47
The future president of the university, a former Gover-
nor of the Territory of Wyoming, agreed with the Board's
policy. The thoroughly practically-minded John Wesley
Hoyt had grown up on a family farm in Ohio. While con-
stantly striving to be first in school, the young Hoyt was
primarily interested in agriculture. As he wrote in his
autobiography, ". . .a still greater happiness [than in
school] came to me when I could do something more for
the common cause on the farm."48 After graduation from
Ohio Wesleyan College, one year in Cincinnati Law School
and graduation from the Eclectic Medical Institute in Cin-
cinnati, Hoyt continued on the academic course, teaching
at both the Eclectic Medical Institute and at Antioch Col-
lege. He soon left his professorship, however, moving to
the cooler climate of Wisconsin to serve as editor on the
agricultural journal Wisconsin Farmer and Northwestern
Cultivator. Here, Hoyt felt he had found a position to which
he was ideally suited. His qualifications, he noted, were
"more than just ordinary" owing to "my years on the
farm, my study of the sciences that could be made avail-
able, my fondness for mingling with the people in a prac-
tical way, and my ambition to lead the whole Northwest
into the best methods of agricultural and other industrial
pursuits."49
These journal years proved to be a pivotal time in
Hoyt's life. Having left teaching, Hoyt now became in-
terested in education from the political side. Chosen in 1856
one of the vice-presidents of the U.S. Agricultural Society,
he attended the U.S. Exhibition in Virginia. Next he served
as the U.S. representative to various international fairs, in-
cluding the World's London Exhibition in 1862, the Paris
Exposition in 1867 and the Vienna Universal Exposition in
1873. Additionally, Hoyt traveled throughout these years
in both Europe and the United States visiting universities
and agricultural institutions. The result was Hoyt's en-
thusiastic endorsement in the United States of the in-
dustrial, practical education prevalent throughout Europe.
He became a staunch advocate of the Morrill Land Grant
Bill, making speeches and printing petitions in his jour-
nal, the Wisconsin Farmer. With the passage of the Morrill
Act, Hoyt next concentrated on the establishment of an
agricultural school at the University of Wisconsin, one
which, he hoped, would combine all the best aspects of
the many schools he had visited. Within four years he ac-
complished this task, again with the aid of the Wisconsin
Farmer to gain support and publicize an organizing con-
vention. Three years later, in 1869, Hoyt adopted the cause
to which he would devote the rest of his life— the found-
ing of a national university. Having concluded from his
European travels the relative inferiority of American educa-
tion, Hoyt proposed the federal government sponsor or-
ganized, focused, national education. All Hoyt's ideas on
the purpose of education, then and later, would stem from
this goal of national university education.50
Regarding education's mission, Hoyt, like Sanborn,
perceived the benefits in practical-oriented training. In an
address titled "Industrial Education in Europe and Amer-
ica," he explained his policy that practical education of the
working classes was the way to a prosperous nation. Yet
Hoyt went beyond Sanborn, advocating the social change
that could also be achieved through industrial education.
He continued in his speech, concluding that such training
would "insure not only an increase of their producing
power for the common good, but also the elevation of their
respective pursuits, with corresponding improvement in
the lives and manners of workers, and thus steadily lessen
those distinctions and degrading discriminations which
have so broadly separated the working and the so-called
'nonworking' classes in all the past."51 This was Hoyt's
primary goal. With the working class brought up to the
social level of the nonworking class, the latter would event-
ually disappear. After visiting the Andersonian University
in Glasgow, Hoyt stated, "One such college [of practical
value] in each large city of the realm would do more for
the progress of liberal ideas and overturning of an already
tottering aristocracy than all the purely political machinery
that can be brought to bear. . . ."52
Hoyt was a true social reformer. The "end" would be
equality of men; the "means," practical training. This did
not mean, however, that Hoyt completely ignored classical
training. One early chronicler of the university noted that
it was Hoyt's arrival and influence which accounted for
the "literary atmosphere" pervading the institution.
Robert C. Morris wrote in 1897, "The ideal held up before
the students and community during these years was that
learning and culture should be sought for their own sake,
and not from utilitarian motives only."53 Before his associa-
tion with the university and while still serving as gover-
nor, Hoyt encouraged the Laramie Literary and Library
Association and helped found a group in Cheyenne similar
to the Wisconsin Academy of Science, Art and Letters. Yet
to Hoyt classical learning was an established given, one
which would remain regardless. While not discouraging
the classical, it was Hoyt's goal to boost the new trend of
practical training.54 In an 1885 address, Hoyt best explains
his own ideas on how classical and practical ideas fit into
the true objective of education. He noted
that the once lightly honored pursuits are taking their place
among the professions; that useful labor, of whatever sort,
is honored as never before; that there is a growing apprecia-
tion of the necessity of fitting the worker for his work by giv-
ing him the best equipment that science and intelligence can
furnish; . . . that civilized communities in all countries are
moved in these latter days to efforts for cultivating in children
everywhere a taste for the beautiful in nature and art; that
moral culture in the schools is coming to be considered a
needed security as well for free institutions as for the individual
soul.55
Hoyt's ideas resembled those of educators across the na-
tion. He did not actually combine the practical and classical,
as Sanborn did. Yet, neither did Hoyt feel the need to draw
a line between the two. He did not worry about the balance
because, in his mind, practical and classical ideas co-existed
naturally.
The president would not have much chance to expand
his ideas further. Hoyt never truly "belonged" to the
(Above) Home Economics Class, UW photograph taken in Merica Hall, 1910.
(Below) University of Wyoming Mineralogy Class, photograph taken in 1896.
±L
Laramie or the Wyoming community. Indeed, relations
between the Territory and Hoyt had begun on a bad note
before Hoyt made his initial appearance in the area. In
May, 1878, the Laramie Sentinel pronounced its backing of
the incumbent governor, the one whom Hoyt was to re-
place. The paper noted the difference between the two
men, stating: "Governor Thayer was a western man . . .
for many years a resident of Nebraska. He knew the ways
and wants of the West."56 And as the Laramie Boomerang
once noted, Hoyt "might well have been taken for one of
the patriarch's of the Old Testament."57 Any patriarch from
the Old Testament World would have contrasted sharply
with the restless, rough and tumble Laramie atmosphere.
Indeed, if we are to believe one Laramie chronicler, J. H.
Triggs, the city was more "rough" than anything else. This
historian— writing in 1875— recorded the demographics of
the city's settlement population, noting:
In about three months its population aggregated about five
thousand souls. Of these there were probably about one thou-
sand strong, earnest, daring men, ready to face any danger
... if they could, in any honorable way, better their fortunes.
One thousand more that were ready to adopt any policy,
honorable or otherwise, so that they got money. . . . The
balance, with the exception of a few good and noble women,
were made up of gamblers, thieves, highwaymen, robbers,
cut-throats, garroters, prostitutes. . . .58
Unlike the planned settlement of Logan, the first citizens
of Laramie merely followed the railroad tracks— and their
fortunes— westward .
It is little wonder, then, that education was not foremost
in the founders' minds. The majority of early settlers were
much more concerned with making a living than they were
with educating their children. In an 1870 report to the U.S.
Commissioner of Education, a writer from Sweetwater
County expressed a commonly-held opinion:
This county alone should have at least 150 old enough to at-
tend school and too young to work, which latter seems to be
regarded by too many parents as the chief end of man, and
the main object of boys. The educational interests of the ter-
ritory are generally neglected, either from indifference on the
part of parents, or an avaricious disposition to make the propa-
gation of children return early profits, or their superstitious
dread that a little learning is a [more] dangerous thing for their
sons and daughters than blasting in a mine, driving an ox
team, or taking in washing, and marrying early. I believe that,
in the cause of education the Territory of Wyoming is behind
all other States and Territories in the Union, except, perhaps
Alaska.59
The Wyoming settlers, in this respect, did not differ much
from farmers nationwide.
It appears, however, that there were exceptions to the
rule of low educational priority. Triggs, in his account of
Laramie, continued, "Public instruction has been liberally
encouraged here in the past, and this eminently intelligent
and enterprising people are not likely to let this want re-
main long unsupplied."60 And Hoyt, in his initial canvass
of the Territory as governor, noted his "surprise" at the
educational institutions and "instrumentalities," or in-
structional equipment. He reported to the Secretary of the
Interior in 1878 that Wyoming's general educational system
was one of the best in the United States.61
These varying views were the result of different classes
in the society and, of course, different intents behind the
writings. Hoyt, as the new governor of the Territory,
hoped and looked for good points; Triggs, writing a history
of Laramie, wrote in an optimistic, promotional vein; and
the writer to the Commissioner of Education filed— we
assume— an honest, factual report. As for the differing class
views, Terence Fromong, in his study of early Wyoming
education, claims that the two classes in Wyoming held
two opposing views concerning the purpose of education.
The lower classes— day laborers, miners, farmers— who
worked manually for a living and needed their children's
work wages, felt that modern education tended
... to lift boys and girls to places they are not fitted to fill,
to disgust them with the work which they are fitted to do,
which must be done, and which can be easily obtained. Our
theory of education is constantly losing sight . . . that the mass
of people in every generation and under whatever form of
government must be laborers. . . . [Children] should have
an education which, when completed will make the subject
better fitted to pursue well the work for which he is fitted,
which makes him not ashamed to do it, and which thus
dignifies labor.62
These laborers, as noted in the 1870 report to the Com-
missioner of Education, were not supportive of education
beyond the basic rudiments.
The classes above the laborers, on the other hand, felt
education had a much wider, theoretical purpose, one that
benefited not only the student, but also the community
as a whole. Hoyt, one of the best examples of this view,
noted, "Without the intelligence of its people no commu-
nity may hope to maintain a free government."63 This
group, therefore, tended to enthusiastically support educa-
tion, including higher, classical education.
Yet these professional classes constituted a minority:
3.3% in 1890, 2.6% in 1900. This class disproportion did
also exist in Utah. But as noted earlier, a strong number
of Utahns were farmers and a large majority were Mor-
mons. The Laramie community, on the other hand, was
more heterogeneous, with a much more equalitarian
spread among both the occupational sector (excluding the
professional area) and the religious affiliation. In the largest
of the occupational groups— agrarians— the majority of
workers were spread rather equally among farmers, labor-
ers and stock raisers, rather than being concentrated in
farming, as in Utah. In religion, the largest group-
Catholics— constituted only a small majority, 48%.
Did this majority of Catholics nevertheless affect the
community's educational views? One answer may be found
in the national educational studies mentioned earlier. In
1931, Harvey C. Lehman and Paul A. Witty concluded that
scientists of the Catholic faith were "grossly under-
represented."64 Knapp and Goodrich, in their Origins of
American Scientists (1952), noted that Catholic schools were
"very unproductive."65 And the general productivity in-
.4"
dexes calculated by Hardy (1974) consistently ranked
Catholic schools lowest or next to lowest. In addition,
Hardy observed, these schools were not only "at the bot-
tom," but also "well below average for all schools studied"
with the exception of one field: the arts and professions.66
Catholic students, it seems, were not prone to practical
studies.
Yet in the case of Wyoming, Catholicism was merely
a sidelight. It did not form a majority; neither did the
religion itself establish a working, day-to-day relationship
with its followers. No patriarchal, community religious
leader provided educational guidelines. Similarly, agrarian
farming values were peripheral. What did affect community
values — and therefore educational views— was the large,
practical-minded working class.
Both Presidents Hoyt and Sanborn lasted only four
years. For, while the administrators busily designed found-
ing policies for the new institutions, the townspeople re-
mained quietly unaware. Once the colleges opened for in-
struction, however, they also opened themselves to the
critique and involvement of the communities. Both presi-
dents stressed the new idea of practical training, blended
with the already existing classical ideas. Ironically, the
downfall of each administrator did not result from com-
munity opposition to the new trend of practicality, but
from the townspeoples' quick adoption of the idea.
On its first day of instruction, the Utah Agricultural
College attracted 22 students. At the beginning of the sec-
ond year, Sanborn was able to boast: "During the sum-
mer evidence has constantly accumulated of the friendly
feeling of the public towards the college. The opening con-
firmed the impressions received— more students being
present the first day than ever before congregated in the
chapel."67 The enrollment that second year— 1891— was 139
students. At the beginning of 1892 the number increased
to 280, with approximately one third of these coming from
the city of Logan itself. By 1893, enrollment totaled 366. 68
Yet even though Utah sent increasing numbers of its
young adults to the school for instruction, the community
began to agree less and less with Sanborn's policy. While
continuously praising the practical aspects, the citizens
now denounced the classical side. In an article titled "In-
dustrial Education" in the Logan Journal, the editors wrote
of the "isms" and "ologies" of the universities of the past.
Thought to properly equip the young men and women for
life, this education instead left the students completely un-
prepared for a life of work. The editors proclaimed, "It is
no doubt true that no one should say ought against a
purely literary and scientific learning, but since so few are
destined to a sole use of these acquisitions in after life, it
is important that knowledge available for the millions
should be more freely bestowed upon the young."69
The community presented a barrier to the successful
development of the Utah Agricultural College— not
through a direct opposition to the new idea of practical
education, but rather through its "hearty endorsement"
John W. Hoyt, first president of the University of 'Wyoming, 1887-1890.
From 1878-1882 Hoyt served as governor of the Territory of Wyoming
and in 1889, he was a member of the Wyoming Constitutional Convention.
of the idea.70 The remnants of the classical ideas, imported
from the East, were no longer desired in the practical West.
The carefully intertwined classical/practical structure achieved
by Sanborn began to weaken. The president, who had at-
tempted to keep and integrate the classical imports, soon
manifested the Eastern, non-Mormon threat felt in the
community. He, also, was no longer wanted. When it was
learned in May, 1894, that Sanborn had tendered his
resignation nine months earlier in order to return to his
family farm, the Logan newspaper printed the community
response: "It would seem from this that the gentleman has
. . . made up his mind to shake the dust of Utah from his
feet. . . . The Journal bears Mr. Sanborn no ill will— it
wishes him success on his New England farm and in his
editorial work, in which, by the way, he has had experience
for the last two years while drawing his salary from the
people of Utah."71
In Wyoming, Hoyt's troubles with the community con-
tinued. While he had succeeded in securing an illusory
goodwill, it was temporary, too weak to support him as
president of the university. The Board of Trustees dis-
charged Hoyt in December, 1890, supplying numerous
reasons including "lax" discipline, Mrs. Hoyt's involve-
ment with the university, "violent and intemperate
language" in chapel exercises and an "unfortunate" finan-
cial reputation.72 The last charge resulted from several
specific instances. First, the Board and Hoyt had disagreed
over the use of Morrill Act funds. It appears Hoyt desired
instructional equipment for the agricultural and mechanic
arts departments, while the Board wanted the money spent
on other causes.73 Second, Hoyt had ordered steel engrav-
ings for portraits from New York, without the knowledge
of the Board. After the Board learned of the purchase, it
ordered Hoyt to return the engravings as no funds existed
for such a purchase. Hoyt proceeded to make copies and
hang them in the university. The Board concluded,
"Among men not lost to honor in business intercourse the
act of John W. Hoyt . . . would be considered a despicable
act of piracy the opposite in example to that which ought
to be set before the students of any school."74 Finally, the
Board ended its statement of allegations, stating that Hoyt
was "out of place as an instructor of youth. We found him
to be very impractical, visionary, extravagant in his views,
autocratic, egotistic, artful, untruthful, greatly influenced
by his family and persistently aiming to ignore the Trustees
and override the Faculty."75
There was, of course, an underlying motive to the
Board's dismissal of Hoyt, not mentioned in their report.
When Wyoming was admitted to the nation as a state, new
government positions opened. Hoyt, interested in a Senate
seat, nevertheless refused to publicly declare his candidacy.
As a result, the county delegates were committed to sup-
port him at the convention. Five of these delegates also
were interested in the Senatorial seat; four of these five
were university Board of Trustee members as well. After
Hoyt lost the seat, without fighting to win, he was dis-
missed by action of the Board.76
Hoyt did fight, however, to regain his position as presi-
dent. In the two months of January and February, 1891,
he wrote at least eight letters to members of the new
Board of Trustees. These included a 30 page pamphlet—
"Leading Facts in the Public Record of Ex-Governor John
W. Hoyt, LL. D."— containing 24 pages of favorable recom-
mendations and reviews of him and his work.77 Another
printed pamphlet, addressed anonymously to ''My Dear
Friend," noted, "What I now need is the present earnest
help of my true friends in breaking the power of the cor-
rupt combination, here by means of representations to
members of the new board. . . ."78
Evident in all these letters was Hoyt's public embar-
rassment. He repeatedly listed all his many prestigious
positions, yet noted, "It was reserved for a coterie of school
trustees in this little mountain town to put me under the
ban of their displeasure, and to mar, if possible, this record
of a life devoted to public good."79 If allowed to continue
as president, Hoyt did not plan to remain long; he would
resign in a few months. He merely hoped for "a prompt
Old Main, University of Wyoming
42
re-instatement as my only possible vindication," and "that
I be rescued from this present discredit before the
world. . . ."80
Evident, also, from these letters was the politician
Hoyt's lack of political acumen in this affair. He consist-
ently denounced the members of the old Board to the
members of the new. For example, he stated:
A few ambitious men, most of them wanting, as came to be
manifest, in nearly every requisite, managed to get themselves
placed in control and have since appeared to think they,
themselves owned the institution. . . . The men in control
were, some of them, even narrower, more ignorant of educa-
tional matters, and, worse than all, more conceited, than I
knew— men who made no proper distinction between a uni-
versity and a district school. . . .81
Not surprisingly, the new Board, not wanting to pass
judgment on the old Board, refused Hoyt's application.
Furthermore, the Board repeatedly refused to pay the re-
mainder of his salary.82
Yet Hoyt had hit on the fundamental line of conflict:
the president wanted a university, in line with the best of
the nation; the Board wanted a working, useful college.
Grace Hebard, a member of the new Board, referred to
Hoyt— years after the affair— as "the outstanding one [of
the presidents] intellectually, due to his years of prepara-
tion, and his experience, coupled with the fact that he had
a marvelous vision for the future and we are living on that
vision today, which has not, even after forty-one years,
been completed."83 As the newspapers would note after
his dismissal, Hoyt was "too visionary and impractical,"
"too theoretical and impractical."84 In answer, Hoyt noted
that "a practical man is one who wisely adapts means to
useful ends. This definition accepted, my own claim is suf-
ficiently established."85 Unfortunately for Hoyt, it was not.
He remained in Laramie for a short time, attempting—
unsuccessfully— to publish a weekly periodical of "high
editorial and literary merit."86 After failing in this
endeavor, for lack of financial support, Hoyt returned East
to Washington, D.C., in order to pursue his life-long
goal— the establishment of a national university.
Neither Hoyt nor Sanborn was perceived as practical
enough by people in Wyoming and Utah, people who
overwhelmingly favored useful training. The Mormons in
Utah needed useful instruction to aid in the building and
preservation of their kingdom; the farmers, unsure about
higher education in general for their children, nevertheless
would favor the practical over the classical. In Wyoming,
too, the people favored the practical, although for different
reasons. Here, the population was dispersed throughout
the different occupations and religions. However, the ma-
jority were laborers, people who saw no need for their
children to learn much beyond the basics needed for work.
Yet the influence of the people on educational policy
was limited. True, the communities did defeat Sanborn and
Hoyt in the immediate terms of local public opinion. Yet
both Sanborn and Hoyt nevertheless succeeded— each in
his own manner — in establishing a feasible educational
policy. To Sanborn, the present mattered, and the "pres-
ent" for students in the 1890s required practical training
for a life of work, coupled with the character-shaping
benefits of classical ideas. In Wyoming, Hoyt looked
beyond Sanborn's present, seeing past the immediate
gains of practical training and glimpsing the social changes
possible. Stressing practicality as well as equality and
reform, Hoyt reflected the progressive attitudes of his time.
Sanborn, on the other hand, was an individualist. While
not as farsighted, his educational policy was the most
distinctive. In either case, the president introduced the new
educational theory of the time. Over the years educational
ideas would again change, upsetting the delicate relations
between the practical and the classical once established.
As a result, university advisory councils today seek anew
policies that will wed the humanities and sciences, join
"head and hand."
1. Logan Journal [Logan, Utah], May 20, 1983, p. 7 (hereafter cited as
Journal).
2. Report of the Board of Trustees of the Agricultural College of Utah, 1892
(Salt Lake City, 1892), p. 8.
3. U.S. Congress, Senate, Congressional Globe, 37th Cong., 2d sess., July
2, 1862.
4. Laws of the Territory of Utah Passed at the 28th session of the
Legislative Assembly, 1888, p. 217 [Section 8].
5. Ibid.
6. Minutes of the Utah Agricultural College Board of Trustees (hereafter
cited as Utah, Board), 1888-1890: June 29, 1888; April 15, 1889; April
16, 1889; May 18, 1889; November 16, 1889; President's Office, Utah
State University.
7. Ibid., May 17, 1890.
8. Report: Board of Trustees of the Agricultural College of Utah, and Accom-
panying Documents, 1890 (Salt Lake City, 1900), p. 3.
9. John T. Caine, Jr., "Jeremiah Wilson Sanborn: First Director of the
Utah Experiment Station and First President of the Agricultural Col-
lege of Utah, A Tribute," in Joel Edward Ricks, ed., The Utah State
Agricultural College: A History of Fifty Years (Salt Lake City, 1938), p. 35.
10. Jonas Viles, The University of Missouri, 1839-1939: A Centennial Histon/
(Columbia, Missouri, 1939), pp. 301-2.
11. Ibid., p. 194.
12. Ricks, Utah State, p. 40.
13. Caine, "Sanborn," p. 36.
14. F. W. Kelsey, "The Study of Latin in Collegiate Education," Educa-
tion, III (1883): 270.
15. Kevin Starr, Americans and the California Dream, 1850-1915 (New York,
1973), p. 338.
Laurence R. Veysey, The Emergence of the American University (Chicago,
1965), p. 80.
Calvin M. Woodward, "The Change of Front in Education," Science.
XIV (September 27, 1901): 476.
18. Charles William Eliot, "The Aims of Higher Education, " Educational
Reform: Essays and Addresses (New York, 18^8). p. 224.
J. W. Sanborn, "Agricultural College ot Utah." Juvenile Instructor
XXVII (July 15, 1892): 434.
Ibid., 438.
journal, February 8, 1890.
16
17
L9
43
22. Utah Board, April 19, 1890; Report of the Board of Trustees, 1392, p.
8; The Utah Agricultural College Announcement of Its Opening Year
1890-91, p. 13.
23. Utah Agricultural College Announcement, p. 9.
24. The Buzzer, Volume 11 (Logan, Utah, 1910), p. 11.
25. Ricks, Utah State, p. 26; John A. Widtsoe, In a Sunlit Land: The
Autobiography of John, p. 46.
26. Report: Board of Trustees, 1890, p. 3.
27. Doctrine and Covenants of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,
93:36; 131:8.
28. William C. Bagley, Determinism in Education: A Series of Papers on the
Relative Influence of Inherited and Acquired Traits in Determining In-
telligence, Achievement, and Character (Baltimore, 1925), pp. 80, 85.
29. E. L. Thorndike, "The Origin of Superior Men," Scientific Monthly,
LVI (May 1943): 424-33.
30. Raymond M. Hughes and William H. Lancelot, Education— America's
Magic (Ames, Iowa, 1946), pp. 12, 40.
31. R. H. Knapp and H. B. Goodrich, Origins of American Scientists: A
Study Made under the Direction of a Committee of the Faculty ofWesleyan
University (Chicago, 1952), p. 22.
32. Alexander W. Astin, " 'Productivity' of Undergraduate Institutions,"
Science, 136 (April 13, 1962): 133-34.
33. Kenneth R. Hardy, "Social Origins of American Scientists and
Scholars," Science, 185 (August 9, 1974): 500. These are not, of course,
the only studies ranking the states' educational levels. See also Roy
C. Woods, "Where Does Your State Rank?" American School Board
Journal, 110 (April 1945). Woods' notes provide further sources to con-
sult for comparative studies conducted up to 1945. Several other works
have moved beyond simply ranking the states, focusing on the possi-
ble causes, including region, which may lead to college and individual
"productivity." See: Robert H. Knapp and Joseph J. Greenbaum,
The Younger American Scholar: His Collegiate Origins (Chicago, 1953);
John L. Holland, "Undergraduate Origins of American Scientists,"
Science, 126 (September 6, 1957); Donald L. Thistlethwaite, "College
Environments and the Development of Talent," Science, 130 (July 10,
1959); Lindsey R. Harmon, "High School Backgrounds of Science
Doctorates," Science, 133 (March 10, 1961).
34. However, several doctoral dissertations have been written in this vein,
e.g. Ray L. DeBoer, "A Historical Study of Mormon Education and
the Influence of Its Philosophy on Public Education in Utah" (Ph.D.
dissertation, University of Denver, 1951). DeBoer claimed: "A pas-
sion for education has become one of the common denominators of
Mormon culture. 'The glory of God is intelligence' has become the
most quoted of all the Prophet's aphorisms, and it undoubtedly has
been a potent factor in the educational philosophy of the Latter-day
Saints Church" (36). Wendell O. Rich, "Certain Basic Concepts in
the Educational Philosophy of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-
day Saints, 1830-1930" (Ph.D. dissertation, Utah State University,
1954), noted: "Salvation is related to achievement along the path of
development and a man is understood to be saved no faster than
he gains knowledge." (219).
35. Frederick S. Buchanan, "Education Among the Mormons: Brigham
Young and the Schools of Utah," History of Education Quarterly, 22
(Winter 1982): 454-55.
36. Bagley, Determinism in Education, p. 84.
37. Ray Stannard Baker, "The Vitality of Mormonism: A Study of an
Irrigated Valley in Utah and Idaho," Century Magazine, LXVIII (June
1904): 173.
38. Bernard De Voto, "Utah," American Mercury, VII (March 1926): 319,
321.
39. Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses, XIII (July 18, 1869): 60. A helpful
index to the speeches contained in the Journal is Ruth M. Jones'
Pioneer Thoughts on Education, Compiled from the Journal of Discourses
(Salt Lake City, 1955).
40. Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses, XII (April 8, 1867): 31-32.
41. One example of the weakening Mormon control, already noted, was
the non-Mormon line-up of the Utah Agricultural College's first fac-
ulty in 1890. For discussion of Utah's response to the Eastern
newcomers and the effect on education see Leonard J. Arrington,
"The Intellectual Tradition of Mormon Utah," address to plenary ses-
sion of Utah Academy of Sciences, Arts, and Letters, September 13,
1968, published in Utah Academy Proceedings, 45, Part 2, 1968, and
Arrington, "The Latter-day Saints and Public Education,"
Southwestern Journal of Social Education, VII (Spring-Summer 1977).
Concerning the change in Cache Valley, see Arrington, "Transition
to the Modern Era 1890-1910," Joel E. Ricks and Everett L. Cooley,
eds., The History of a Valley: Cache Valley, Utah-Idaho (Logan, 1956),
pp. 205-39. For further elaboration on the idea that Mormons of the
time downplayed "thinking" courses, see Allan Dean Payne, "The
Mormon Response to Early Progessive Education, 1892-1920" (Ph.D.
dissertation, University of Utah, 1977). /
42. Robert H. Knapp, The Origins of American Humanistic Scholars (New
Jersey, 1964), p. 14.
43. William Mulder, "Problems of the Mormon Intellectual," Dialogue:
A Journal of Mormon Thought, V (Autumn 1970): 122. Nevertheless,
the relationship with the Mormon Church did affect scientists as well.
See Richard Tracy Wootton, "Religious Orientations of Utah Scien-
tists Related to Certain Problems of Latter-day Saint Church Educa-
tion" (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Utah, 1956).
44. Charles S. Peterson, "Changing Times: A View From Cache Valley,
1890-1915," 60th Faculty Honor Lecture, Utah State University
(Logan, Utah, 1979) presents the thesis of a dual Mormon-agrarian
influence in Cache Valley.
45. Isaac P. Roberts, Association of American Agricultural Colleges and
Experiment Stations, Proceedings, 1889 (Washington, 1889) as quoted
in Roy V. Scott, The Reluctant Farmer: The Rise of Agricultural Exten-
sion to 1914 (Urbana, Illinois, 1970), p. 3.
46. Session Laws of Wyoming Territory, Ninth Legislative Assembly, January
12, 1886, Chapter 37, Section 35, p. 84.
47. Laramie Sentinel, May 1, 1886 (hereafter cited as Sentinel).
48. John W. Hoyt and Kepler Hoyt, "Life of John Wesley Hoyt, A.M.,
M.D., LL.D. (October 13, 1831-May 23, 1912)," Mss., Wyoming State
Archives, Museums and Historical Department, Cheyenne, Wyo-
ming, p. 3. For a condensed account of Hoyt's life, based largely on
this autobiographical manuscript, see also Henry J. Peterson, "John
Wesley Hoyt: Territorial Governor of Wyoming, 1878-1882," Annals
of Wyoming, 22 (January 1950): 338-41.
49. Hoyt, "John Wesley Hoyt," pp. 24-32, quote, pp. 31-32.
50. Ibid., pp. 32-201. For details concerning Hoyt's educational ideas,
especially his devotion to the founding of a national university, see
also James Raymond Schumacher, "The Life, Educational Work and
Contributions of John Wesley Hoyt" (Ph.D. dissertation, University
of Wyoming, 1970).
51. Hoyt, "John Wesley Hoyt," p. 86.
52. Ibid., p. 116.
53. Robert C. Morris, Collections of the Wyoming Historical Society
(Cheyenne, 1897), p. 118.
54. Sentinel, September 28, 1878; Message of John W. Hoyt, Governor
of Wyoming, to the Seventh Legislative Assembly, Cheyenne, January
12, 1882, p. 25.
55. John W. Hoyt, "Address," Special Report by the Bureau of Educa-
tion, Educational Exhibits and Conventions at the World's Industrial and
Cotton Centennial Exposition, New Orleans, 1884-1885; Part II, Proceedings
of the International Congress of Educators (Washington, D.C., 1886), pp.
98-99.
56. Sentinel, March 18, 1878.
57. Laramie Boomerang, June 28, 1929 (hereafter cited as Boomerang).
58. J. H. Triggs, History and Directory of Laramie City, Wyoming Territory
(Laramie, 1875), p. 5.
59. As quoted in Terence D. Fromong, "The Development of Public
' Elementary and Secondary Education in Wyoming: 1869-1917" (Ph.D.
dissertation, University of Wyoming, 1962), p. 51.
44
60. Triggs, Laramie City, p. 25.
61. Schumacher, "John Wesley Hoyt," p. 58.
62. "Schooling Which Does Not Educate," Indianapolis News, as reprinted
in Cheyenne Daily Leader, September 4, 1879.
63. As quoted in Fromong, "Education in Wyoming," p. 88.
64. Harvey C. Lehman and Paul A. Witty, "Scientific Eminence and
Church Membership," Scientific Monthly, XXXIII (December 1931).
65. Knapp and Goodrich, Origin of American Scientists.
66. Hardy, "American Scientists and Scholars," p. 503.
67. Journal, September 9, 1891.
68. Report of the Board of Trustees of the Agricultural College of Utah, 1892,
p. 10; Ricks, Utah State, p. 41; Journal, May 31, 1893.
69. Journal, June 2, 1894.
70. Ibid., February 8, 1890.
71. Ibid., June 9, 1894.
72. Minutes of the University of Wyoming Board of Trustees (hereafter
cited as Wyoming Board), December 13, 1890 (President's Office,
University of Wyoming); Board of Trustees Statement, February, 1891,
University of Wyoming Collection, American Heritage Center
(hereafter cited as UWC, AHC).
73. Schumacher, "John Wesley Hoyt," pp. 89-93.
74. Wyoming Board, February 17, 1891.
75. Board of Trustee Statement, February, 1891.
76. Hoyt, "John Wesley Hoyt," p. 366.
77. "Leading Facts in the Public Record of Ex-Governor John W. Hoyt,
LL. D.," UWC, AHC.
78. J. W. Hoyt to "My Dear Friend," January 13, 1891, UWC, AHC.
79. J. W. Hoyt to Board of Trustees, February 24, 1891, UWC, AHC.
80. J. W. Hoyt to Grace Hebard, January 12, 1891; J. W. Hoyt, letter,
January 13, 1891, UWC, AHC.
81. J. W. Hoyt, letter, January 13, 1891. Other letters written to: Dr. A.
A. Johnson, new president of the Board of Trustees, February 24,
1891; Johnson, February 25, 1891; Board of Trustees, February 24,
1891; Board of Trustees, February 24, 1891; Johnson, March 26, 1891;
Board of Trustees, June 11, 1891; Board of Trustees, July 25, 1891,
UWC, AHC.
82. Wyoming Board, February 25, 1891; J. W. Hoyt to Board of Trustees,
June 11, 1891, and June 25, 1891, UWC, AHC.
83. Grace Hebard to Kepler Hoyt, July 6, 1928, Hoyt Biographical File,
UWC, AHC.
84. Sentinel, March 8, 1891; Boomerang, December 15, 1890.
85. J. W. Hoyt to Board of Trustees, February 24, 1891, UWC, AHC.
86. Hoyt Biographical File, UWC, AHC; Hoyt, "John Wesley Hoyt," p.
514.
Ji
WYOMING'S TRUSS BRIDGES
by Rheba C. Massey
Rick Ewig
Bridge over Green River, Sweetwater County, built 1913.
For more than 100 years people traveling the roads
throughout Wyoming have seen the many different types
of truss bridges. These structures, as part of a vast transpor-
tation network, have played an important role in the set-
tlement of the state. Today, however, more and more of
the trusses are being removed and replaced, thereby de-
nying Wyoming a portion of its history.
Transportation systems were vital to the settlement of
the West. The paths laid out by animals were followed and
supplemented by Indians, fur trappers, western-bound
emigrants, railroads and automobiles. One important facet
of this transportation web was bridge construction. Com-
pared to wading, swimming, rafting or ferrying, bridges
were a tremendous improvement in the crossing of water-
ways. At first constructed of readily available materials and
the most basic design, it took until the 1870s for metal
bridges in such forms as cantilever, arch, suspension and
truss to come West.
Only the truss bridge was of modern invention and
one which "may be considered primarily an American
achievement."1 Because of the railroad, the early 19th cen-
tury witnessed a great expansion of truss bridges. En-
gineers designed such spans as the Howe, Pratt, Whipple
and others to handle the heavier loads, longer crossings
and greater rigidity requirements of the railroads. These
attributes also made the trusses attractive to road builders
in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
The history of truss bridge building in Wyoming can
be traced back to 1875 when the U.S. Army contracted with
the King Bridge and Manufacturing Company of Cleve-
land, Ohio, to build a bowstring truss over the North Platte
River two miles from Fort Laramie.2 This structure is
thought to be the oldest existing military bridge west of
the Mississippi. Most truss bridges in the state, however,
were not built in this manner.
At first, private individuals built the necessary bridges,
but eventually such endeavors became the property and
responsibility of the public. Wyoming counties accepted
full responsibility for building roads and bridges in the
early 1900s. Oftentimes the appropriations for these pro-
jects were the largest county allocations of funds. During
these times various counties paid thousands of dollars for
a single metal truss bridge and on occasion had to delay
construction of certain bridge projects because all the
available funds for a certain year had been expended.
The usual procedure followed by the counties in the
construction of a bridge was to advertise for bids— most
times asking the contractors to prepare plans— and then
accept the "lowest and best" bid. The major contractors
who bid on Wyoming bridges came mostly from the Mid-
west and Colorado. These included the Canton Bridge
Company of Canton, Ohio, Midland Bridge Company of
Kansas City, Missouri, Midwest Steel & Iron Works Com-
pany of Pueblo, Colorado, and Monarch Engineering of
Denver, Colorado.
As the use of automotive transportation became more
prevalent, an adequate system of roads and bridges was
even more paramount. The number of tourists who came
to enjoy the many spectacles of Wyoming greatly in-
creased. Also, as automobile use spread it affected in-
dividual lifestyles. People living in Wyoming's small,
remote communities no longer had to be confined to their
isolated areas, but could travel to the mountains or other
cities.
Roads all across the country were ill-prepared for the
increasing traffic. In 1914, there were 71,000 miles of state
highways nationally, half of which were just graded earth
and only about half of the states had highway departments.
The typical bridges of the time used concrete T-beams for
short spans and pony and through trusses for longer
spans.
Wyoming was not totally devoid of highways at the
time. Some enterprising businessmen across the nation
formed the Lincoln Highway Association in 1913. The Lin-
coln Highway eventually crossed southern Wyoming. Ad-
ditionally, the Black and Yellow Trail crossed northern
Wyoming in 1914. Wyoming still needed major improve-
ments in its road system, however.
An important step toward a modern and adequate
state highway was the creation of the Wyoming Highway
Department in 1917, in accordance with the July, 1916,
Federal Highway Act. That same year the state received
$61,200 of the first federal appropriation for highway
funds. At its inception, lack of finances marked the
Highway Department and hampered its efforts to correct
the dismal road and bridge situation it saw.
At this time Wyoming was a vast wilderness so far as her road
system was concerned. A number of trails connected the prin-
cipal centers of population, and there was little if any travel
on them with the exception of the rural mail delivery. The
County or State had no right of way to speak of, and where
there was any roads or trails, their location was such as made
it impractical to retain the existing lines. There was probably
no bridge in the State suitable for carrying modern traffic such
as improved roads would develop.3
Studying bridge construction in Wyoming, the State
Highway Department concluded that it "is of particular
interest and importance because several factors affecting
the design of structures, which do not call for special study
in the more fully settled and flatter sites of the East, here
demand the most careful consideration." A few examples
are the normally dry streams or draws which may carry
inordinately large amounts of water because of a sudden
cloudburst. Also, flow of streams at times may be affected
by irrigation projects and the "disposition of materials fur-
ther affects the design in a number of cases, as do also the
extremely long distances from railroad shipping points,
which in some instances increase the cost of concrete work
from five to eight times that in other localities."4
One of the first acts of the new highway department
was to standardize bridge plans and specifications. Each
Board of County Commissioners received the new plans.
47
Oldest truss bridge in Wyoming, constructed in 1875 by the U.S. Army across the North Platte River. Located two miles from Fort Laramie and
thought to be the oldest existing military bridge west of the Mississippi. Photograph taken in 1930.
The state hoped to reduce the number of bridge failures,
most of which happened due to faulty foundations.
The onset of the Depression was a boon to road and
bridge construction in Wyoming. The federal government
appropriated money for various relief projects during these
hard times, such as a federal building program and an ex-
panded highway construction program. In 1934, the high-
way program put to work approximately 25% of Wyo-
ming's unemployed during seasonable weather.5
After World War II, the erection of a new truss bridge
in Wyoming was rare, but these spans still played a major
part in the state's highway system because of their versa-
tility. One attribute is its easy disassembly, transportation
and reassembly. Therefore, these bridges are constantly
on the move, ending up over a different river or creek, or
stored in a highway yard waiting to be used again.
Today truss bridges are fast becoming replaced by the
modern I-beam and girder bridges. Thus, these historic
truss bridges are now seen as artifacts representing impor-
tant developments in structural technology. An under-
standing of the importance of historic bridges, combined
with active public support for using federal programs to
encourage preservation is the key to increasing rehabilita-
tion and reuse of these truss bridges. The Wyoming High-
way Department (WHD) and the Wyoming State Historic
Preservation Office (WSHPO) are working cooperatively
to preserve these historic truss bridges for adaptive reuse.
In 1982, the WHD completed a historic inventory of 168
truss bridges. Thirty-eight truss bridges were nominated
to the National Register of Historic Places, and of these 38
only 28 bridges remain. Some of these are scheduled for
replacement and are available to public and private sources
for alternate uses. Two truss bridges (Pick and Pelous)
have been preserved for adaptive reuse during the last
year. As Wyoming communities recognize the significance
of these older bridges within America's contemporary
landscape, perhaps more will be retained as working,
useful reminders of our state's historical development.
David Plowden, Bridges: The Spans of North America (New York: The
Viking Press, 1974), p. 35.
John Dishon McDermott, "Fort Laramie's Iron Bridge," Annals of
Wyoming (October 1962): 136-144.
Wyoming State Highway Commission, First Biennial Report of the State
Highway Commission of the State of Wyoming, 1917-1918 (Laramie, Wyo-
ming: The Laramie Republican Company, Printers and Binders, 1919),
p. 9.
"Wyoming State Highway Department Newsletter" (July 30, 1921),
Number 3, p. 14.
Wyoming State Highway Commission, Ninth Biennial Report of the State
Highway Commission of the State of Wyoming, 1932-1934, p. 11.
(Above) Wind River Diversion Dam Bridge, Fremont County. Longest highway truss bridge in Wyoming, consisting
of eight Warren pony trusses. Built in 1924 by Taggart Construction Company, Cody, at an estimated cost of $58,000.
(Below) Bridge over Powder River, Sheridan County. Constructed in 1915 of one Pratt truss and one Warren truss.
The only one of its kind in the state.
4^
Bridge over Wind River, Fremont County. A 1930s bridge constructed from Wyoming Highway
Department (WHD) standard draivings. In 1953, the WHD contracted with Charles M. Smith,
Thermopolis, to reassemble this bridge over the Wind River. This is the longest of several
long-span Parker through trusses in the state.
Bridge over Cheyenne River, Niobrara County. At
first, probably a railroad truss, later moved to this
location. It is one of only two vehicular Penn-
sylvania truss bridges in the state.
50
Little Colorado Bridge over Green River, Lincoln County. Civilian Conservation Corp. enrollees from Camp Kemmerer erected this steel truss bridge
in 1939-40. The steel section was from an old bridge over Blacksfork near Bryan. Sheepman used this bridge as a short cut to the Little Colorado
Desert. The construction was part of the Taylor Grazing program xohich improved old plus built new roads and trails throughout the range district.
Bridge over
Shoshone River,
Big Horn County.
Built by McGuire
and Blakeslee,
Lovell, in 1925-26
on a federal aid
project. Designed
by the iNHD, it
was one of many
Warren pony
trusses erected in
the state at the
time.
Bridge over Green
River, Sweetwater
County. Built by
Colorado Bridge
and Construction
Company in 1913.
With a span of
150' this is one of
the longest of the
early Pratt
through trusses
which were com-
mon on the county
road system at
that time.
3BE
■==■■,=4
52
Bridge over Green
River, Sweetwater
County. Sweet-
water County con-
tracted with
Charles G. Sheely,
Denver, in 1909,
to construct this
bridge called the
Big Island Bridge.
It is a two-span
Pratt through
truss.
Bridge over North
Platte River, Car-
bon County.
Called the "Butler
Bridge," Chris
O'Neil of Platt-
ville, Colorado,
built this 170'
Camelback truss in
1930 for $11,920
to replace a timber
bridge which had
been heavily
damaged by the
spring flood of
1929. Platte
Valley residents
petitioned the Car-
bon County Com-
missioners for its
reconstruction.
£*==»i=
1BE
DBG
IBE=
"i
Pick Bridge over North Platte River, Carbon County. In 1907, citizens of Rawlins and Fort Steele petitioned the Carbon County Commissioners,
"praying" for a steel bridge across the North Platte River. In 1909, the Commissioners awarded the contract to Charles G. Sheely, Denver, for
$12,700. The county moved this Parker through truss in 1934 twenty-one miles up the river to the Pick Road Crossing. Recently the WHD had
planned to dismantle the bridge. The Carbon County Historical Society formed a committee to seek the preservation of the bridge. The Carbon County
Commissioners are now working with the WHD to leave the bridge in place.
Jg^ ANNAL 'S REVIEWS ((§[
Coxey's Army: An American Odyssey. By Carlos A. Schwantes. (Lincoln
and London: University of Nebraska Press, 1985) Index. Notes.
Illus. Map. 321 pp. $22.95.
For seven weeks during the harsh economic times of
1894, Coxey's Army caught the nation's eye. Jacob Coxey,
an Ohio businessman, began a movement which became
known as the Commonweal of Christ and was composed
of "industrial armies" from around the country. Hoping
to get relief for the many unemployed workers, the move-
ment ended in failure, when the federal government ig-
nored their proposed programs.
Carlos Schwantes, in his book Coxey's Army: An
American Odyssey, examines this episode in American
history from several different angles. First, the press played
an important role. Newspapers focused the nation's atten-
tion on this first national crusade against unemployment,
and while still not full-fledged yellow journalism, it at least
had a "yellowish tinge" according to Schwantes. Addi-
tionally, he sees it as a history of "American reform" and
as a chapter in history which shows the modern welfare
state had its "roots in popular protest."
The strong suit of the book, however, is in the nar-
rative of the many marches to Washington, D.C. Coxey
led the march from his hometown, Massillon, Ohio, to
the U.S. Capitol. This march is fascinating in itself because
of the many hardships endured and the colorful characters,
such as Carl Browne, Coxey's co-leader, but it is the
marches from the West which receive the greatest
attention.
Schwantes points out that most of the marchers came
from the West and it is in the West where the movement
"attained its greatest strength and significance." Industrial
armies formed in Washington, California, Montana, Ore-
gon and Colorado. The members marched, rode trains—
sometimes stealing the trains and then being chased by
law enforcement officials closely resembling "Keystone
Cops"— and at times via the nation's waterways. Of course,
not all of the armies found their way to Washington, D.C.
A short time before the formation of Coxey's Army,
Frederick Jackson Turner presented an address on the end-
ing of the frontier. The many western Coxeyites traveling
east seemed to validate Turner's thesis. According to
Schwantes, this protest movement from west to east "un-
dermined the popular belief that the fertile agricultural
lands of the frontier represented America's most practical
form of social security and a wise alternative."
In order to present us with this interesting and well-
written account of Coxey's Army, Schwantes researched
an impressive number of primary sources, the majority of
which are newspapers from around the country. A map
of the many routes traveled is provided along with
photographs of the people involved and of the trips east.
Finally, although Coxey's Army did not result in any
immediate relief for the many unemployed of the 1890s,
Schwantes sees it as having far-reaching effects. According
to him, "it chipped away at the popular belief that pov-
erty and unemployment were mainly the result of in-
dividual weakness and laziness and promoted the idea that
the federal government was responsible for the economic
well-being of its citizens," an issue which is still being ad-
dressed today.
RICK EWIG
The Reviewer is Senior Historian for the Historical Research and Publications
Division of the AMH Department.
The Medicine Bows: Wyoming's Mountain Country, by Scott Thybony, Robert
G. Rosenberg and Elizabeth Mullett Rosenberg. (Caldwell, Idaho:
Caxton Printers, Ltd., 1985) Index. Illustrations. Bibliography. Ap-
pendix. 180 pp. $7.95.
Wyoming is known throughout America as the home
of spectacular alpine country. Outdoorsmen across the
land speak with reverence when discussing the mountain
peaks of Grand Teton or Yellowstone National Parks.
While no one would dispute the grandeur of these highly
publicized destination resorts, seasoned Wyomingites
often know of special mountain places which remain un-
familiar to the average tourist. The Medicine Bow Range
is such a place.
Recreation enthusiasts readily appreciate the lack of
notoriety regarding the Medicine Bows— or Snowy Range
in local parlance. A few northern Coloradoans have
discovered the fine skiing, snowmobiling, hiking and
fishing available in the Snowy's, but the area remains
largely the playground of southeastern Wyoming resi-
dents. While solitude seekers revel in this relatively
unknown and uncrowded environment, historians have
to lament the lack of attention hitherto paid the Medicine
Bow Range. Considering that the routes of the Overland
Trail and original transcontinental railroad exist in close
proximity to these mountains, not to mention the Indians,
miners, lumberjacks and national forest rangers who have
lived and worked in the surrounding high country, one
would think the area worthy of serious historical study.
The Medicine Bows by Scott Thybony, Robert G.
Rosenberg and Elizabeth Mullett Rosenberg represents a
first step towards filling this regrettable historical data gap.
Although primarily a history of the Medicine Bow National
Forest, the book covers a broad topical spectrum ranging
from prehistoric and Native American dwellers to contem-
porary water resource issues. The authors merit particular
commendation for tracing the recent rise of recreational use
in a forest once dominated by exploitive mining and tim-
bering interests.
Unfortunately, the book displays a reportlike writing
style devoid of interpretation or extended explanation.
Lacking any contextual framework, the reader is left to sort
through a litany of facts and draw his or her own conclu-
sions. This task proves difficult as the authors frequently
beg questions with statements such as, "In 1844, [John C]
Fremont once again entered the Medicine Bow region from
the west on his return from California." While the reader
might justifiably wonder why Fremont had been in Califor-
nia and what events caused his return to the Medicine
Bows, these obvious questions are never addressed.
The text is also hampered by a cumbersome notation
style. Conventional footnotes are eschewed in favor of
parenthetical abbreviations which refer the reader to the
bibliography for a complete citation. While this system is
not totally impractical, it does represent a departure from
accepted footnoting rules. More importantly, enclosing the
citations in parentheses tends to seriously disrupt the flow
of the narrative.
To their credit, the extensive bibliography readily at-
tests to the authors' considerable research skills. They
deserve applause for utilizing their skills to examine a
previously underdeveloped topic. The book wisely avoids
the cattle and cowboy theme which has often acted to
misrepresent Wyoming's history and Wyomingites in
general. Instead, a new addition has been made to the
remarkably brief list of scholarly studies which presently
constitute the body of Wyoming historiography. Until
someone takes the authors' work a step further by launch-
ing an analytical study of these mountains and their
environs, Snowy Range aficionados will want this book for
their personal collections.
BRUCE J. NOBLE, JR.
Noble, former Suwey Historian with the AMH Department is noiv a Historian
for the National Parks Service, Washington, D.C.
U.S. Army Uniforms and Equipment, 1889 By the Quartermaster General of
the Army. Foreward by Jerome A. Greene. (Lincoln: University of
Nebraska Press, 1986) Index. Illustrations. 375 pp. $9.95.
During the past two decades considerable interest in
the U.S. Army's uniform and equipment during the Vic-
torian era has prompted the publication of many books and
monographs. In his foreward to U.S. Army Uniforms . . .,
Jerome Greene lists some of these modern works as well
as provides a concise bibliography of other 19th century
government publications related to the topic of martial at-
tire and equipage. His chief service, however, stems from
making this rare edition available to the public, for as he
states, this book "marked a milestone in the development
of standards and specifications for clothing and equipment
... by the War Department." •
Long out of print, this difficult to find volume contains
an incredible wealth of information. It should be a stan-
dard for museum registrars, historic sites dealing with fron-
tier military life and for individuals interested in "living
history." Students of material culture of the late 1800s will
also find the reprint a fine addition to their library since
such items as chairs, mattresses and scrub brushes appear
along with excellent line drawings of each item, as well
as detailed descriptions of the pieces. The same minute in-
formation which made it possible for contractors and
quartermaster manufacturing depots to fabricate the ma-
terials contained in this work, likewise make it possible to
duplicate some of the objects today.
While smaller in size than the original bulky version,
this paperback is still of adequate dimensions for easy
reading. The quality of reproduction is more than accept-
able since the illustrations were carefully executed line
drawings in the 1889 edition. In fact, they are suitable for
use in exhibit work should museums wish to employ them
in displays depicting life at old army garrisons. The only
minor objection is the cover stock which is easily damaged
if not handled with care. Nevertheless, this slight drawback
does not detract from the wealth of data found in Li. S.
Army Uniforms. . . . Consequently, the University of
Nebraska Press should be congratulated for recognizing
the utility this obscure book will have to a wide range of
readers. I hope their effort will prove successful and spark
other similar attempts to distribute important reference
sources to the public.
JOHN P. LANGELLIER.
The reviewer is the Head of the Museums Division of the AMH Department.
Dust Bowl Descent. By Bill Ganzel. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press,
1984) Photographs. Technical Notes. 130 pp. $29.95.
The work of the Farm Security Administration during
the Great Depression has been described in many publica-
tions. Professor Rexford Tugwell, head of one of the U.S.
Government's alphabet agencies, the Resettlement Ad-
ministration, hired a former student, Roy Stryker, to head
up the FSA. The people whom Stryker hired, in turn, are
recognized as some of America's foremost documentary
photographers: Dorothea Lange, Russell Lee, Walker
Evans, Arthur Rothstein, John Vachon, Jack Delano, Ed-
win Rosskam, Carl Myrdans and Marion Post Wolcott.
Their images taught Americans something about migrant
workers, sharecroppers, the dust bowl and a down-and-
out America of the 1930s. The FSA photographs, 80,000
of them covering a period of nine years (1935-1943) are
located in rows of grey steel file cabinets in the Prints and
Photographs Division at the Library of Congress. Not only
are these images symbols of the terrible ordeal which
America suffered, they are in some cases fine photographic
art.
Photographs taken 40 years later by Bill Ganzel in Dust
Bowl Descent are similarly journalistic as well as artistic in
composition and exposure. "My interest was to do photo-
graphs that stood on their own," explained producer
Ganzel at his Nebraska ETV office in Lincoln. Indeed, the
37 year-old Nebraska native not only accomplished that
purpose, by combining Depression photographs with his
own, he has produced a sensitive document on the Great
Plains.
Even if you do not take time to read Ganzel' s brief text,
you will have no problem with the obvious, as well as sub-
tle, comparisons of Ganzel's follow-up photography. The
pictorial Dust Bowl Descent, 9%" x IOV2" in size, is no or-
dinary "in the points of the pioneers' tripods" effort. In
some cases, Ganzel's subjects were exactly those selected
by FSA photographers, but in other cases the subjects were
only similar and were photographed by Ganzel, hundreds
of miles distant from the original FSA location. When
Ganzel could find the people seen in the Depression views
he made their portraits, often in the same environment as
the original. But he also recorded people who, by their ac-
tivities, had something in common with their predecessors.
For example, they might be herding livestock, dancing,
drinking, watching a rodeo or carnival burlesque, or be
children playing "fox and geese" in a snow-covered coun-
try schoolyard.
Compare one of Ganzel's own favorites— his 1979 por-
trait of North Dakota farmer William Huravitch— with one
taken of Huravitch by Russell Lee in 1937 and you will see
not only a person who has aged 42 years, but also an en-
vironmental portrait that is more intriguing than the
original. The similarity of the views is still obvious,
however. In Lee's view the young Huravitch sits on the
wooden porch stoop of his log home, smoking his pipe,
while in Ganzel's photograph the old man Huravitch sits
stiffly upright on a weatherbeaten bench in front of an aged
frame farmhouse, putting a pinch of snuff in his cheek.
Some of Ganzel's subjects posed, some did not and
some who posed provided happy accidents, like Florence
Thompson. Dorothea Lange posed Thompson, the "Mi-
grant Mother" in 1936, with her three infant children cling-
ing to her. When Ganzel photographed the elder Thomp-
son she was surrounded by her three middle-aged daugh-
ters on the lawn of a Modesto, California, home, her right
hand against her cheek in much the same way she held
it in 1936. According to Ganzel, the gesture was un-
conscious and when he remarked to his subjects that there
was a similarity in the gestures over the years, Thompson's
daughters became aware for the first time that they, too,
used their mother's mannerism. How little some habits
change in 43 years! Not long after Ganzel recorded the
Thompsons on film, Florence died. And so it was with Net-
tie Featherston, whom Dorothea Lange posed in 1938 as
the "Woman of the High Plains," a slim young woman
in coarse dress, her left arm across her breast supporting
the right arm and the hand that shielded her eyes from
the Texas Panhandle sun.
Some of his subjects Ganzel located simply by dialing
directory assistance; others required detective work to find.
But, in nearly all cases the people he found he interviewed
and then composed thoughtfully, with the result that his
own photographs have become valuable documents in
themselves. One comparison that does not live up to his
high standards is shown below a photograph by Russell
Lee. It shows the rear ends of ponies lined up at a 1940
stock show in San Angelo, Texas. Ganzel's companion
photo shows the protruding hips of a girls' drill team taken
in the same town in 1979. The idea is clear enough, but
the photograph is not of the usual high caliber offered by
the author.
During his travels in search of FSA subjects Bill Ganzel
was not simply the detached scholar who, supported by
a steady income, went about his job as a scientist in a
laboratory. For a while he suffered from unemployment
and a $10,000 debt. Although he would not, could not,
know the depths of depression suffered by people who —
forced from their homes by tractors, dust or low farm
prices— knew not where their next meals were coming
from, he experienced anomie and the fatigue that would
come from logging 50,000 miles across the Great Plains in
a Volkswagen bug and later, a Toyota Landcruiser. He
learned to welcome the sight of his motel room each night
where he could flop down in front of an undemanding
television. "I became addicted to TV— a touch of home,"
he recalled.
Ganzel's purpose in Dust Bowl Descent was not to
demonstrate how the lives of FSA subjects had materially
changed, although obviously some had. He wanted to con-
tinue the FSA project in a type of "serial document." The
result of his conscientious effort is not a comprehensive
documentary but rather a selective work that stands on its
own merit, a sensitive and noteworthy chronicle of the
Great Plains as a unique environment.
"Certainly I've come to a new understanding of the
prairie environment and the plains landscape," said
Ganzel. "And I have specific and fond memories of the
people who opened their lives to me. Perhaps it is the
stories they told me about the times they went through
that I remember most. Sitting in living rooms in Felt,
Oklahoma, or Williston, North Dakota, I began to realize
that these were more than just stories that parents tell
unimpressed children. ... I began to understand the
human costs of the Depression, how difficult a time it really
was. This was not a history text, but instead, individuals
who had been caught up in a terrible social upheaval and
survived. As I looked at their faces, I began to realize the
simple survival was something to be proud of."
Ganzel also can be proud of Dust Bowl Descent, a book
which is more than just another coffee-table publication.
Credit also goes to the University of Nebraska Press staff,
particularly Richard Eckersley for his fine layout, design
and typographical work. The quality of images in Dust Bowl
Descent is no accident, being the result of a laser-copying
process employed by the printer, Dai Nippon of Japan. If
you enjoy history as well as photography you can curl up
in your Lazy-Boy and turn the pages of Dust Bowl Descent,
pondering over the photographs of Depression survivors
and scenes from the heartland of America that were done
by some of America's finest photographers, including the
talented Bill Ganzel.
MARK JUNGE
The reviewer is Deputy State Historic Presentation Officer of the AMH
Department.
The Mount Rushmore Story. By Judith St. George. (New York: Putnam's
Sons, 1985) Index. Bibliography. 125 pp. $13.95.
"... Mount Rushmore and the Black Hills, close to
the geographical center of the United States, have touched
many people in many ways." This is the theme pursued
by Judith St. George in The Mount Rushmore Story. The
Black Hills are visited by numerous tourists each year, with
many traveling to Mount Rushmore to admire the grandeur
of the sculpture. Carved in granite on the side of the moun-
tain are the faces of George Washington, Thomas Jeffer-
son, Theodore Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln. These four
presidents represent the nation's founding, political
philosophy, expansion and conservation.
The memorial was suggested by Doane Robinson, sec-
retary and historian of the South Dakota Historical Society.
The project, believed to be a tourist attraction, was sup-
ported by South Dakota Senator Peter Norbeck and other
officials at the state and federal level of government. St.
George chronicles the ups and downs of government fi-
nancing to complete the memorial, as well as the strug-
gles between the National Park Service and sculptor Gut-
zon Borglum concerning administration of the site.
St. George has written a biography of Borglum and
his monumental task to turn the face of a mountain into
a gigantic tribute to the greatness of America. Mount
Rushmore is not only a monument to Borglum's artistic
and engineering skills, it is a lasting tribute to the workers
who labored on the project. Built during the Depression,
the project gave employment to out-of-work miners, cow-
boys and ranch hands: many who had no previous ex-
perience working with stone.
The book is richly illustrated. These photographs reveal
not only the history of the Black Hills, but more impor-
tantly, the building of the monument; documented in a
series of photographs taken by Lincoln Borglum. The visual
presentation adds immensely to the understanding of the
Mount Rushmore story.
St. George should be praised for her diligent efforts
to point out why the Black Hills are important to the
American Indian, especially the Sioux. Readers, however,
are left to ponder the specific significance of the monument
to the Indians. Is it a violation of Indian sacred territory?
The author again allows the reader to decide.
So, too, all people must decide the value of the granite
sculpture. The details of its building, equipment used,
engineering techniques, all add to an understanding of the
monument's history. However, readers are left by ques-
tions about the destruction of nature and the monument
as a visual intrusion upon the environment. As St. George
points out, the same issues have plagued the National Park
Service as it administers the area and preserves it for
posterity. Perhaps it is this one topic that the author could
have expanded: the manner in which the NPS interprets
the site for the visitor.
Good interpretation sets the stage and presents fac-
tors for the visitor, and each person will decide for
him/herself what is beautiful or true. St. George has ac-
complished this in her book. She has told the reader the
story of Mount Rushmore and encourages each person to
interpret "the significance of this ancient granite moun-
tain."
This book should be "must" reading for all visitors to
Mount Rushmore.
PATRICIA ANN OWENS
Ms. Owens teaches history and political science at Wabash Valley College, Mt.
Carmel, Illinois.
The Sixth Grandfather: Black Elk's Teaching Given to John G. Neihardt.
Raymond J. DeMallie, ed. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press,
1984) Index. Bibliography. Maps. Appendices. 462 pp. $19.95 cloth.
The almost mystical relationship between author-poet
John G. Neihardt and Oglala Sioux holy man Nicholas
Black Elk forms the central theme of Raymond J. DeMallie's
The Sixth Grandfather. Dividing his work into three parts,
DeMallie begins by presenting a biography of Black Elk,
centering on his later life and his literary partnership with
Neihardt. The book's two remaining sections contain the
transcripts of Neihardt's interviews with Black Elk and
other Lakotas on which his books were based. The first
set of interviews, conducted in 1931, covers Lakota history
from the 1860s until the Wounded Knee Massacre in 1890.
It was during the course of these interviews that Black Elk
revealed the sacred vision which guided much of his life.
The second set of interviews, conducted in 1944, contains
a general history of the Lakota people largely set prior to
the coming of white men. From these interviews Neihardt
58
composed two works, Black Elk Speaks (1932) and When the
Tree Flowered (1952), which DeMallie credits with helping
preserve Lakota culture. Also, because of their popular-
ity with the general reading audience, Neihardt's writings
have served to introduce non-Indian readers to the Lakota
philosophy and world view.
Born in December, 1863, Black Elk received his great
vision in 1873 and began his career as a medicine man in
1881. His curiosity about the white world led him to work
in Europe with "Buffalo Bill" Cody's Wild West Show
from 1886 to 1889. After returning with his new knowl-
edge, he worked as a healer until 1900 when, according
to his vision, the time came for him to perform rituals
designed to destroy all the Lakota's white enemies. Un-
willing to be responsible for such a slaughter, Black Elk
turned instead to Christianity, a faith he had studied since
his first contact with whites. He embraced Roman Cathol-
icism, joining a congregational society and working as a
missionary and catechist. Yet Black Elk maintained his role
as a traditional leader, taking part in ceremonies and even
arranging to perform them for whites to educate them in
Indian culture. His relationship with Neihardt induced him
to relive his vision and attempt its fulfillment.
As DeMallie points out, Neihardt's interviews were
painstakingly translated and, when necessary, reorganized
into an easily readable form. DeMallie himself edited out
many of the redundancies and used numerous footnotes
to clarify references to obscure people and events and to
provide bibliographical references for further reading. Even
with these technical alterations, the richness of spirit rein-
forces the idea, supported by DeMallie, that Neihardt's
writing favorably reflects the majestic scope of Black Elk's
teachings. While the literary refinement is Neihardt's, the
story is unquestionably Black Elk's. Such a partnership was
clearly Black Elk's intent. Believing Neihardt was sent to
learn wisdom, Black Elk first adopted him and then made
him heir to his sacred vision. Accordingly, Neihardt related
to the outside world Black Elk's vision of the power of the
Lakota to bring together all people in union with the power
of the cosmos. That Black Elk maintained his Christianity
alongside traditional beliefs is not surprising, given the
reverence with which many Native Americans hold a
variety of religious beliefs without one excluding another.
While Neihardt's works have given a valid and con-
sistent interpretation of Black Elk's teachings, he did avoid
some of the more violent aspects of the Oglala holy man's
vision. DeMallie has published the entire text of the great
vision, including a section omitted by Neihardt in which
Black Elk received the power to destroy all whites. Because
Black Elk had refused to employ his destructive powers
when the time came, Neihardt chose to omit this aspect
of the vision in order to stress the spiritual unity which
he perceived Black Elk himself had chosen as the ultimate
heart of his message.
In the end, Neihardt's works reflect Black Elk's despair
that he could not bring the fruits of his vision to his peo-
ple in his lifetime. Yet as DeMallie points out, Black Elk
lived a rich and productive life in both the Lakota and the
white world. A teacher of faith in two cultures, Black Elk
actually succeeded because his vision remains alive. Just
as Neihardt's writings and Joseph Epps Brown's The Sacred
Pipe introduced their readers to Black Elk, The Sixth Grand-
father is indispensible reading for those who wish to fur-
ther explore Black Elk's world.
jODYE LYNN DICKSON SCHILZ
The reviewer is a member of the faculty at Mankato State University, Minnesota.
An Annotated Bibliography of Northern Plains Ethnohistory. By Katherine M.
Weist and Susan R. Sharrock. (Missoula: Contributions to An-
thropology, No. 8, Department of Anthropology, University of Mon-
tana, 1985) Index. 299 pp. $15.00 paper.
This long overdue bibliography will be a welcome ad-
dition to the reference libraries of academic scholars of
Northern Plains Indian ethnohistory. The authors have
limited the geographic region for context to the area
bounded on the South by the North Platte River, on the
North by the Saskatchewan River, the East by the Missouri
River and the West by the Rocky Mountains. Their time
period for inclusion is from 1690 to 1880 (prior to the "reser-
vation period"). Entries have also been limited to those
which they consider primary resources.
Nomadic tribes identified within this region and time
period are: The Blackfeet (Piegan, Blood Northern Black-
feet); Gros Ventre (Atsina); Assiniboine; Plains Cree;
Plains Ojibwa; Crow; Cheyenne; Arapaho; and the Teton
Dakota (Oglala, Brule, Hunkpapa, Minneconjou, Blackfeet,
Two Kettle, Sans Arc). The authors also added other tribal
units residing at times within the region (the Yankton,
Yanktonnai and Santee Sioux). Horticultural tribes selected
for inclusion are the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara (Ree).
Other tribes which visited the region during the pre-
reservation period are the Pawnee, Shoshone, Flathead,
Nez Perce and the Pend d'Oreille.
The fact that there are several omissions in this tribal
list may be due to scarcity of recorded observations within
the time period on tribes not included. For example, John
Swanton in The Indian Tribes of North America (Bureau of
American Ethnology, 1945) records the Kiowa as residing
in Montana and Northern Wyoming prior to 1840. How-
ever, in the past I have been unable to find any primary
information (other than early maps) regarding this period
of Kiowa history. The same vacuum appears to shroud
early Kiowa-Apache and Comanche history in Wyoming.
Of the 718 annotated entries, 126 are reports to the
Congress of the United States. Although this congressional
compilation would appear to be quite comprehensive, only
three other federal reports are indexed to the exclusion of
important Department of the Interior Census Office reports
and records of the National Archives of the United States
relating to American Indians. Pertinent reports of the
Bureau of American Ethnology are listed under the sec-
S9
tion titled "Ethnographic Sources." However, entries of
this section are not listed in the index and readers must
find them on their own. Index inaccuracies are also frus-
trating (example: the annotation number for Robert H.
Lowie turns out to be the one for Elsie Clews Parsons).
Wyomingites will search in vain for Virginia Cole
Trenholm's The Arapahoes, Our People, and The Shoshonis,
Sentinels of the Rockies. MacKenzies Last Fight with the
Cheyennes (a primary resource report to Congress in 1890
by Capt. John Bourke) is also missing along with the Seven
Visions of Bull Lodge (edited by George P. Horse Capture)
which records the life of the Gros Ventre healer in Mon-
tana between 1802 and 1886.
A comprehensive annotated bibliography on the topic
of this publication would evidently require several volumes
for primary sources alone. Although several discrepancies
and omissions have been noted above in this bibliography
by Katherine Weist and Susan Sharrock, it provides a much
needed reference for researchers of Northern Plains Indian
ethnohistory.
MIKE MAYFIELD
The reviewer is Curator of Anthropology and Natural History with the Museums
Division of the AMH Department.
Vie Arapaho. By Alfred L. Kroeber. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press,
1983) Illus. Index. 463 pp. $8.95 paper.
Publishers note: This volume is a photographic reprint of
The Arapaho as it originally appeared in the Bulletin of the
American Museum o/National History, volume 18 (1902, 1904
and 1907), published in three parts.
This book may be a little "involved" for the casual
reader of Indian history and culture but for the serious stu-
dent of Plains Indian culture Kroeber' s work is unequaled.
Not only will this work stand alone but it would provide
a solid base for further study. The presentation of Arapaho
material culture, both descriptively and in terms of illustra-
tion, is outstanding.
Kroeber' s The Arapaho was the first comprehensive ac-
count of this important Plains Indian Tribe and its reap-
pearance as a Bison Book paperback will surely be wel-
comed by amateur and professional anthropologists alike.
Kroeber was Franz Boas' first doctoral candidate in the
newly founded Columbia University Department of An-
thropology when Boas sent him out to Indian Territory at
the turn of the century to study the decorative art of the
Arapaho for his dissertation. At that time Boas was the
foremost anthropologist in the United States; he for-
mulated a program of research and publication that was
to dominate American anthropology for the next several
decades. Kroeber, one of his most productive students, not
only implemented that program but added to it in impor-
tant ways.
Kroeber spent his first season among the Southern
Arapaho in Indian Territory, the second among the North-
ern Arapaho of Wyoming and the third among the lin-
guistically related Gros Ventre, or Atsina, in Montana.
At first Kroeber concentrated on decorative art and
symbolism, while making a collection of material culture
for the American Museum of Natural History. Soon, how-
ever, he extended his studies to other aspects of Arapaho
life, particularly to ceremonial organization and religion.
Just about every aspect and object of Arapaho material
culture is minutely described and illustrated and Kroeber's
drawings are outstanding. For instance, there are six pages
of symbolism in embroidered (in beads, porcupine quills
or in fibers) and painted designs with accompanying
explanations.
But material culture is not all. The work touches upon
nearly every imaginable facet of Arapaho culture. Meticu-
lous attention has been paid to ceremonies, games, religion
and stories of the supernatural, tribal organization, kin-
ship, decorative art and regalia. Plus, the articles of every-
day life: clothes, pottery, utensils, tents and the all-
important pipe.
In his foreword, Fred Eggan, Professor Emeritus of
Anthropology at the University of Chicago, wrote: "For
all of these reasons— for its description of the tribe, and
for the illustrations it offers of the tools, utensils, toys, and
clothing in use at the turn of the century— Kroeber's work
remains an essential book on the Arapaho, as valuable to
anthropologists everywhere engaged in comparative stud-
ies as to students coming fresh to the Indians of the Great
Plains."
NEAL L. BLAIR
The reviewer is former Editor of Special Publications for the Wyoming Game and
Fish Department.
__ 60
CONTRIBUTORS
THOMAS B. BRUMBAUGH was born in Chambersburg,
Pennsylvania. He now resides in Clarksville, Tennessee,
and is Professor Emeritus of Fine Arts, Vanderbilt Univer-
sity, Nashville. He attended Indiana University of Penn-
sylvania, the University of Iowa and Ohio State Univer-
sity receiving his B.S., M.A. and Ph.D. degrees respec-
tively. He was Editor of Architecture of Middle Tennessee, and
has been published in various journals in the United States
and abroad regarding art and architecture.
D. (DIANA) TEDDY DIGGS presently serves as Editor,
of the Southern Methodist Press, a position she has held since
1984. Previously she was Editorial Fellow, Western Historical
Quarterly. Originally from Tucson, Arizona, Diggs obtained
her B.A. degree in history from Southern Methodist Uni-
versity, 1982, and her M.A. degree in history from Utah
State University, 1985.
ROBERT L. MUNKRES has served for many years as Pro-
fessor of Political Science at Muskingum College, Ohio. He
was born in Nebraska, attended school there and received
his M.A. and Ph.D. degrees from the University of
Nebraska. He has been frequently published in Annals and
is the author of the publication, Saleratus & Sagebrush: The
Oregon Trail Through Wyoming.
RHEBA C. MASSEY is Review and Compliance Historian
for the State Historic Preservation Office, AMH Depart-
ment. Born in Ohio, Massey now resides in Fort Collins,
Colorado. She attended the University of Oklahoma and
received her B.A. and M.A. degrees from Colorado State
University.
EUGENE T. CARROLL is a native Montanan. He is pres-
ently engaged in private practice in Child Counseling and
Workshop Presenter. He received his M.A. in history in
1977 from the University of Wyoming, then received an
M.S. degree from Eastern Montana College, 1981. He has
been published previously in Annals of Wyoming and is
presently working on a biography of Senator John B.
Kendrick.
RICK EWIG is Senior Historian in the Historical Research
& Publications Division of the AMH Department. He at-
tended the University of Wyoming where he received his
B.A. and M.A. degrees in history. A previous work, "The
Ordeal of Lester C. Hunt," was published in an earlier
issue of Annals of Wyoming. A native of Wisconsin, he has
resided in Wyoming since 1974 following a stint with the
U.S. Air Force.
ill
INDEX
Albright, Horace, 26, 28
American Fur Company, 5
An Annotated Bibliography of Northern Plains Ethnohistory, by Katherine M.
Weist and Susan R. Sharrock, review, 59-60
The Arapaho, by Alfred L. Kroeber, review, 60
Astin, A.W., 35
Atkins, J.D.C., 12
B
Bagley, William C, 34
Baker, Ray Stannard, 36
Ball, Max, 23
Bear Hunting, near Fort Laramie; photo, 7
Blair, Neal L., review of The Arapaho, 60
Bootes, Lt. Levi C, 5, 9
Bordeaux, James; photo, 19
BRIDGES, Wyoming
Big Island Bridge, Sweetwater County; photo, 53
Butler Bridge, Carbon County; photo, 53
Cheyenne River Bridge, Niobrara County; photo, 50
Green River Bridge, Sweetwater County; photo, 46
Green River Bridge, Sweetwater County; photo, 52
Little Colorado Bridge, Lincoln County; photo, 51
North Platte River Bridge, Goshen County; photo, 48
Pick Bridge, Carbon County; photo, 54
Powder River Bridge, Sheridan County; photo, 49
Shoshone River Bridge, Big Horn County; photo, 52
Wind River Bridge, Fremont County; photo, 50
Wind River Diversion Dam, Fremont County; photo, 49
Brigham Young University, 35
Brooks, B. B., (Gov.), 23
Brown, Orlando, 15
Brumbaugh, Thomas B., "Fort Laramie Hijinks: A New Manuscript Ac-
count," 4-9: biog., 61
Buchanan, Frederick S., 36
Bullock, W. G.; photo, 19
Cache Valley, Utah, 36
Caine, J. T. Jr., 32
Canton Bridge Company, Canton, Ohio, 47
Carey, Sen. Robert D., 28
Carlisle Barracks, Pa., 12
Carroll, Eugene T., "Wyoming Senator John Benjamin Kendrick: The
Politics of Oil, Public Land and National Park Legislation in the 1920s,"
22-29
Casper, Wyo., 23
Chugg Water Journal, 4-9
Chugg Water Mining Association, 6
Coke, Henry J., 6
Commissioners of Indian Affairs, 10-21
Committee on Public Lands and Surveys, 24
Companies A and E, Mounted Rifleman, 5
Company C, Mounted Riflemen, 5
Company G, Sixth Infantry, 5
Conundrums, 6
Coordinating Committee on National Parks and National Forests, 26
Coxey's Army: An American Odyssey, by Carlos A. Schwantes, review, 55
Crawford, T. Hartley, 11, 15
D
Daughtery, Harry, 23
DeMallie, Raymond J., The Sixth Grandfather: Black Elk's Teaching Given
to John G. Neihardt, review, 58-59
Denby, Edwin, 24
Diggs, D. Teddy, "Education for Head or Hand? Land Grant Univer-
sities of Utah and Wyoming," 30-45
Dole, William, 11, 14, 18
Duncan, Capt. Thomas, 7
Dust Bowl Descent, by Bill Ganzel, review, 56-58
Dyer, Capt. , 6
"Education for Head or Hand? Land Grant Universities of Utah and
Wyoming," by D. Teddy Diggs, 30-45
Eliot, Charles W., 33
Ewig, Rick, "Wyoming's Truss Bridges," 46-54; biog., 61
Ewig, Rick, review of Coxey's Army: An American Odyssey, 55
Fall, Albert H., 23, 26
Federal Highway Act, 47
Federal Indian Policy, 13
Ferris, Scott, Cong., 23
Forest Service, 28
"Fort Laramie Hijinks: A New Manuscript Account," by Thomas D.
Brumbaugh, 4-9
FORTS
John, Wyo., 5
Kearny, Wyo., 5
Laramie, Wyo., 4-9; photos, 8, 20
William, Wyo., 5
Fremont, Lt. John C, 5
Fromong, Terence, 40
Ganzel, Bill, Dust Boivl Descent, review, 56-58
General Leasing Act, 23
Goodrich, Hubert, 35, 40
Grand Teton National Park, Wyo., 26, 28
Greene, Jerome A., U.S. Army Uniforms and Equipnent, 1889 By the Quarter-
master General of the Army, review, 56
H
Hardy, Kenneth, 35, 41
Harris, W. G., 23
Hatch, H. E., 32
Hayt, E. A., 11-12, 17-18
Hebard, Grace R., 43
Herring, Commissioner Elbert, 11
Hoyt, John Wesley, 38, 40-43; photo, 41
I
INDIANS-CHIEFS
Spotted Tail; photo, 16
Indian Peace Commission, 11, 14
Indians, Shoshone at Fort Washakie, 1892; photo, 18
Interior Department, 25-26
J
Jackson Lake, Wyo., 26
Johnson, President Andrew, 11
Jones, Adj. Gen. Roger, 5
Jordan, David Starr, 33
Junge, Mark, review of Dust Bowl Descent, 56-58
K
Kelsey, F. W., 33
Kendrick, John Benjamin, 22-29; photo, 22
Ketchum, William Scott, 9; photo, 8
King Bridge and Manufacturing Company, Cleveland, Ohio, 47
Knapp, Robert, 35-36, 40
Kroeber, Alfred L., The Arapaho, review, 60
LaFleich, T. W., 23
LaFollette, Sen. Robert ML, 24
Langellier, John P., review of U.S. Army Uniforms and Equipment, 1889
By the Quartermaster General of the Army, 56
Langton, Willard S., 34
LaRamee, Jacques, 5
Laramie Literary and Library Association, 38
Laramie Sentinel newspaper, 40
Laramie, Wyo., 37-38, 40, 43
Larson, W. L., 23
Lea, Commissioner Luke, 11
Leasing Act, 1920, 26
Lehman, Harvey C, 40
Lenroot, Sen. (Wise), 24
Lincoln Highway Association, 47
Logan Journal newspaper, (Utah), 41
Love, John; photo, 9
Lund Act, 31
M
Mammoth Oil Company, 23
Man-Afraid-of-His-Horses; photo, 19
Manypenny, George, 11
Marlatt, Miss Abby L., 34
Massey, Rheba C, "Wyoming's Truss Bridges," 46-54; biog., 61
Mather, Stephen, 26
Mayfield, Mike, review of An Annotated Bibliography of Northern Plains
Ethnohistory, 59-60
McGee, Sen. Gale, 28
McKenney, Thomas L., 12-14
Tlie Medicine Bows: Wyoming's Mountain Country, by Scott Thybony, Robert
G. Rosenberg, Elizabeth Mullett Rosenberg, review, 55-56
Metz, William S., 23
Midland Bridge Company, Kansas City, Missouri, 47
Midwest Refinery Company, 26
Midwest Steel and Ironworks, Pueblo, Colorado, 47
Miller, Alfred Jacob, 5
Miller, Leslie A., (Gov.), 23, 28
"Misperception and Policy: A Case Study Based on the Annual Reports
of the Commissioners of Indian Affairs, 1829-1890," by Robert L.
Munkres, 10-21
Missouri Republican newspaper, 6
Mix, Commissioner Charles E., 15, 18
Monarch Engineering, Denver, Colorado, 47
Mondell, Cong. Frank W., 28
Moore, Dr. Samuel Preston, 7, 9
Morgan, T. J., 12, 16, 18
Mormons, Utah, 5, 34, 36, 43
Morrill Land Grant Bill/Morrill Law, 31, 37-38
Morris, Robert C, 38
The Mount Rushmore Story, by Judith St. George, review, 58
Mulder, William, 36
Munkres, Robert L., "Misperception and Public Policy: A Case Study
of the Commissioners of Indian Affairs, 1829-1890," 10-21; biog., 61
N
Ninth Legislative Assembly, Territory of Wyoming, 37
Noble, Bruce J. Jr., review of The Medicine Boivs: Wyoming's Mountain Coun-
try, 55-56
Norbeck, Sen. , (North Dakota), 28
North Platte River, Wyo., 47
o
Oberly, John H., 15, 17
Office of Indian Affairs, 18
Old Bedlam, 5-6; photo, 8
O'Mahoney, Sen. Joseph, 28
Owens, Patricia Ann, review of The Mount Rushmore Story, 58
Parker, Rev. Samuel, 5
Parkman, Francis, 5
Pickett Act, 1910, 23
Pinchot, Gifford, 23
Powell, John Wesley, 23
Pratt, Lt. R. H., 12
Price, Hiram, 11-12, 15
Quealy, P. J., 26
R
Red Bear; photo, 19
Rhett, Capt. Thomas Grimke, 6-8
Roberts, Capt. Benjamin S., 5, 8
Roberts, Dr. Isaac P., 32, 36
Rockefeller, John D., 28
Rose, Robert R., 23
Rosenberg, Elizabeth Mullett, The Medicine Bows: Wyoming's Mountain
Country, review, 55-56
Rosenberg, Robert G., The Medicine Bozos: Wyoming's Mountain Countn/,
review, 55-56
St. George, Judith, The Mount Rushmore Ston/, review, 58
Salt Creek, Wyo., 26; photos, 25
Sanborn, Jeremiah Wilson, 31-34, 38, 41, 43; photo, 32
Sanderson, Maj. Winslow F., 5, 8
Schilz, Jodye Lynn Dickson, review of, The Sixth Grandfather: Black Elk's
Teaching Given to John G. Neihardt, 58-59
Schwantes, Carlos A., Coxey's Army: An American Odyssey, review, 55
Sharrock, Susan R., An Annotated Bibliography of Northern Plains
Ethnohistory, review, 59-60
Sherman, Gen. William T., 13
SholL J. M., 34
The Sixth Grandfather: Black Elk's Teacliing Given to John G. Neihardt. by
Raymond J. DeMallie, review, 58-59
Smith, Edward P., 11, 15
Smith, J. Q., 14-17
Smith, Joseph, 34
Smoot, Sen. Reed (Utah), 23-24
Snake River Land Company, Wyo., 28
Spaulding, Rev. Henry, 5
Stewart, Sir William Drummond, 5
Stillett, 6
Stock Raising Act, 1916, 24
Stoessinger, Prof. John, 10
Tarbell, Ed., 32
Taylor, N. G., 18
Teapot Dome Oil Field, Wyo.; photo, 24
Thompson, Maj. , 6
Thorndike, E. L., 34-35
Thybony, Scott, The Medicine Bows: Wyoming's Mountain Country, review,
55-56
Triggs, J. H., 40
Truss Bridges, Wyoming, 46-54
u
U.S. Anny Uniforms and Equipment, 1889 By the Quartermaster General of
the Army, foreward by Jerome A. Greene, review, 56
University of Wisconsin, 38
University of Wyoming, 37-43; photo, 37
University of Wyoming, Home Economics Class, Merica Hall, Mineralogy
Class; photos, 39
University of Wyoming, Old Main; photo, 42
Utah Agricultural College, 31-37, 41-43; photos, 30, 33, 35
Utah Agricultural College, School of Commerce; photo, 34
Utah State University National Advisory Council, 31, 35
w
Walker, Francis, 11, 14-18
Walsh, Sen , 23
War Department, 18
Warren, Sen. Francis, E., 26
Weist, Katherine M., An Annotated Bibliography of Northern Plains
Ethnohistory, review, 59-60
West, Gov. Caleb (Utah), 32
Wilbur, Ray Lyman, 28
Wisconsin Farmer and Northwestern Cultivator, 38
Whitman, Dr. Marcus, 5
Witty, Paul A., 40
Woodbury, Lt. Daniel P., 5, 8
Woods, Arthur, 28
Woodward, Calvin M., 33
"Wyoming's Senator John Benjamin Kendrick: The Politics of Oil, Public
Land and National Park Legislation in the 1920s," by Eugene T. Car-
roll, 22-29
Wyoming State Highway Department, 47-48, 50, 52, 54
Wyoming State Historic Preservation Office (WSHPO), 48
"Wyoming's Truss Bridges," by Rheba C. Massey, Rick Ewig, 46-54
Yellowstone National Park, 26; photo, 27
Young, Brigham, 5, 36
Ziehlsdorff, Armin H., 26
Van Vliet, Capt. Stewart, 6-8
WYOMING STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY
The Wyoming State Historical Society was organized in October, 1953.
Membership is open to anyone interested in history. County chapters of the society
have been chartered in most of the twenty-three counties of Wyoming. Past
presidents of the society include; Frank Bowron, Casper, 1953-55; William L.
Marion, Lander, 1955-56; Dr. DeWitt Dominick, Cody, 1956-57; Dr. T. A. Lar-
son, Laramie, 1957-58; A. H. MacDougall, Rawlins, 1958-59; Mrs. Thelma G. Con-
dit, Buffalo, 1959-60; E. A. Littleton, Gillette, 1960-61; Edness Kimball Wilkins,
Casper, 1961-62; Charles Ritter, Cheyenne, 1962-63; Neal E. Miller, Rawlins,
1963-65; Mrs. Charles Hord, Casper, 1965-66; Glenn Sweem, Sheridan, 1966-67;
Adrian Reynolds, Green River, 1967-68; Curtiss Root, Torrington, 1968-69; Mrs.
Hattie Burnstad, Worland, 1969-70; J. Reuel Armstrong, Rawlins, 1970-71; William
R. Dubois, Cheyenne, 1971-72; Henry F. Chadey, Rock Springs, 1972-73; Richard
S. Dumbrill, Newcastle, 1973-74; Henry Jensen, Casper, 1974-75; Jay Brazelton,
Jackson, 1975-76; Ray Pendergraft, Worland, 1976-77; David J. Wasden, Cody,
1977-78; Mabel Brown, Newcastle, 1978-79; James June, Green River, 1979-80;
William F. Bragg, Jr., Casper, 1980-81; Don Hodgson, Torrington, 1981-82, Clara
Jensen, Lysite-Casper, 1982-83; Fern Gaensslen, Green River, 1983-84; Dave
Kathka, Rock Springs, 1984-85; Mary Garman, Sundance, 1985-86.
Membership information may be obtained from the Executive Headquarters,
Wyoming State Historical Society, Barrett Building, Cheyenne, Wyoming 82002.
Dues in the state society are:
Life Membership $100
Joint Life Membership (husband and wife) $150
Annual Membership $5
Joint Annual Membership (two persons of same family
at same address) $7
Institutional Membership $10
President, Ellen Mueller, Cheyenne
First Vice President, Mary Nielsen, Cody
1986-87 Second Vice President, Loren Jost, Riverton
Officers Secretary-Treasurer, Eleanor Schofield, Green River
Executive-Secretary, Dr. Robert D. Bush
Coordinator, Judy West
987"
I