Utah Historical Quarterly Volume LVII

UHQ 1989 - Volume 57 - no 3 - Book Reviews And Notices

The Great Unhiown: The Journals of the Historic First Expedition down the Colorado River. By JOHN COOLEY. ([Flagstaff, Ariz.]: Northland Publishing, 1988. xii -H 207 pp. $21.95.) In 1947 and 1949 the Utah State Historical Society did students of the history of the Colorado River a great service by collecting, editing, and pub­lishing all of the journals kept by members of John Wesley Powell's two expeditions down the river in 1869 and 1871-72. These days, however, these two fine volumes are hard to find out­side of libraries, and if you can find them in a bookstore, you can expect to pay a hefty price. John Cooley, a pro­fessor of English and director of envi­ronmental studies at Western Michi­gan University, has now done the same favor for a new generation of stu­dents fascinated by this epic voyage. In The Great Unknown he has once again brought together the voices of those hardy men from the 1869 expedition. Cooley gathered all the accounts and then culled and edited the journals and letters written by the crewmen to make a day-by-day account. He has added an introduction that includes brief bio­graphical statements about each of the crewmen. The main body of the text is organized much the same way Powell organized his 1875 report to Congress, Exploration of the Colorado River of the West by geographical sections of the river. At the start of each section Cooley provides a brief introduction describing the events to come in those particular passages. Then the accounts are arranged chronologically and al­phabetically; the journals appear before the later accounts. An index and a selected bibliography are found at the end of the book. Finally, the work is topped off by some of the same engraved illustrations used in the origi­nal versions published by Powell in Scribners and his 1875 report. This was no easy editorial task, as Cooley ad­mits in "A Note on the Text." Some of the accounts were written on the spot; some up to thirty years later. To help clarify the inevitable discrepan­cies, Cooley has added footnotes throughout the text. His arrangement and obvious editorial skills have con­tributed to a very readable and handy volume with all of the versions of this controversial voyage in one place in one book. For all this, however, I have to admit that I have some doubts about this book. It seems to be an example of a little bit of research. There are quite a few errors of fact, such as the men­tion of the "long stern sweeps" on Powell's boats - the stern sweeps were a feature of the 1871 craft, not the 1869 boats. And Cooley's assertion in the introduction that the first two months of Jack Sumner's journal were lost with the Rowlands and Bill Dunn in August 1869 - Sumner's journal down to the Uinta River was later rediscovered and published in the Powell Centennial issue of Utah Histori- 288 Utah Historical Quarterly cat Quarterly. Cooley corrects this later in the text but obviously didn't go back and find the initial error. And finally, there is his statement that Separation was the last major rapid in Grand Can­yon. Separation (now under Lake Mead) was a big rapid, but it turned out to be a lot easier to run than it looked. Not so with Lava Cliff, in actu­ality the last major rapid in the Grand Canyon. The men who stayed on the river had to run it before they reached the Grand Wash Cliffs. It is not men­tioned, even though it had a prominent place in some of the journals. These are nit-picky errors; but scholars of the Colorado River, and es­pecially of river-running history, are a nit-picky lot, perhaps because there are so few of them and they feel so passion­ately about their chosen subject. I'll wager I won't be the last person to point these out to Cooley. All in all, such minor lapses do not in any way detract from the main body of the book - the journals and accounts themselves. Cooley's fine, insightful editing and collating of these diverse accounts have proven once again that the Powell Expedition in 1869 was the stuff of real drama. ROY WEBB University of Utah Trials of Discipleship: The Story of William Clayton, a Mormon. By JAMES B. ALLEN. (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1987. xii + 383 pp. $22.95.) Trials of Discipleship is a most appro­priate title for this excellent biography of William Clayton. Rather than pre­senting a traditional life story that fol­lows a strict chronology, BYU history professor James Allen has chosen to highlight how William Clayton, as a disciple of Joseph Smith, met the chal­lenges and trials of membership in the new Mormon religion. Clayton is pre­sented as " a representative Latter-day Saint of the 'below-the-leadership' level," whose story is important for "what his life has to tell us about the early Latter-day Saint community as a whole" (p. x). As one reads the biogra­phy of Clayton it is difficult to consider his life typical because of his unique contributions and unusual experi­ences. Yet Allen argues convincingly that as a nineteenth-century disciple of Mormonism, Clayton was representa­tive of those faithful believers who may not have agreed with every decision by their leaders but nevertheless avoided criticism and a show of disharmony at all costs. Clayton summed up his posi­tion: 'T never oppose any measure started by the authorities, for in that neither I nor any member of the church can be justified. Opposition and division is the work of the enemy and I trust never to be found on that side in any degree" (p. 362). This will­ingness to put the church first charac­terized Clayton's life from his baptism in the River Ripple on October 20, 1837, at the age of twenty-three, until his death on December 4, 1879, at the age of sixty-five. Clayton's forty-two years as a Mor­mon included missionary work in Eng­land before his departure for America in 1840; work as a clerk for Joseph Smith in Nauvoo; participation as one of the members of the original 1847 pioneer company; writing and publish­ing The Latter-day Saints Emigrants' Guide in 1848 - the best of all trail guides produced during the epic pio­neering of the Far West; and the com­position of Mormondom's most cherished anthem, "Come, Come, Ye Saints." Book Reviews and Notices 289 The trials of discipleship touch many aspects of Clayton's life and persist from his early manhood as one of Mor-mondom's first converts in England to his death as a respected pioneer. These trials included: leaving his young wife and child to serve a mission in Man­chester; the love of a young lady not his wife; the crossing of the Atlantic and journey to Nauvoo; his unsuccess­ful attempts at farming; polygamy; health problems; alcohol; the lack of recognition by church authorities for his work; his lack of inclusion in the inner circles of the church (as was the case under Joseph Smith) once Brig­ham Young became leader of the Mor­mons; an unfortunate and short-lived mission back to his English homeland in 1852; family difficulties; interests and hobbies that seemed out of the mainstream of nineteenth-century Mormonism; and financial problems attributed mostly to his large family of nine wives and forty-two children. As a polygamist Clayton appears as both victim and villain. Polygamy held the promise of allowing Clayton to marry a young lady, Sarah Crooks, of whom he had grown fond while a mis­sionary in Manchester in 1840. In­structed by Joseph Smith to send for Sarah, Clayton found it a bitter experi­ence when his Manchester friend re­jected polygamy and left the church after her arrival in Nauvoo. But even before Sarah Crooks arrived, Clayton had taken a second wife, Margaret Moon, the youngest sister of his first wife, Ruth Moon. The second mar­riage was initially very difficult be­cause Margaret was engaged to marry Aaron Farr who was away on a mis­sion. Despite strong feelings for the ab­sent Aaron, she consented to marry Clayton. Farr did not learn of the situ­ation until he returned to Nauvoo to find Margaret unhappy with her de­cision, two months pregnant, but re­solved to stay with Clayton. It might be expected that bitter feelings would persist in the Farr family toward Wil­liam Clayton, but in one of the ironies of Mormon polygamy, Clayton took as his fourth wife the sixteen-year-old Di-anatha Farr less than two years after the confrontation with her brother Aaron over Margaret Moon. Several chapters in the book read more like essays on aspects of Clay­ton's life than the usual biography. It appears that the source material en­couraged the writer in this direction, and it was a fortunate choice. Instead of retelling Utah history through the life of his subject as many biographies of nineteenth-century Mormons tend to do, Allen uses the concluding chap­ters to explore Clayton's millennial ex­pectations, how he reacted when they were not fulfilled, his interest in and experimentation with astrology and al­chemy, and how Clayton made a living in Utah as a bookkeeper, investor, speculator, debt collector for the LDS church and as the first secretary of ZCMI. Allen acknowledges genuine respect for Clayton and a large measure of em­pathy for his problems. Yet in dealing with his subject, Allen usually attains the balance he seeks between those who would chronicle only the pleasing and noncontroversial and those who would overemphasize the sensational, bizarre, and negative. The result is the sketch of a devout Mormon, yet one whose shortcomings are easily recog­nizable. Although it was not in his nature to seek positions of authority in the Mormon church, Clayton longed for appropriate recognition from those leaders he faithfully served. Une-quivocating in his belief in Christ, his life was touched by paranoia, melan­choly, and alcoholism. A man with a strong sense of gratitude for the kind­ness shown him and a "huge capacity for love, affection, and concern" (p. 203), even these qualities were subor- 290 Utah Historical Quarterly dinated when friends, like his father-in- law Amasa Lyman, opposed church authorities. While James Allen's biog­raphy of William Clayton is not a com­prehensive treatment of Clayton and his family, the author has crafted his study with the skill of a seasoned histo­rian. His careful use of limited sources has produced a biography that cap­tures the shades of light and dark of this representative disciple and goes far to illuminate for readers the dichotomy of conformity and diversity found in nineteenth-century Mormons. ALLAN KENT POWELL Utah State Historical Society Daughters of the Desert: Women Anthropologists and the Native American Southwest, 1880- 1980; an Illustrated Catalogue. By BARBARA A. BABCOCK and NANCY J. PAREZO. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1988. xii + 241 pp. Cloth, $39.95; paper, $19.95.) Daughters of the Desert adds to the ex­uberant outpouring of literature on American women and their achieve­ments. It focuses on forty-five females who worked in the North American Southwest (in the United States and Mexico), material originally assembled for a comprehensive exhibit. This illus­trated catalogue, the introduction ex­plains, forms only "part of an ongoing multi-faceted project which has also in­cluded a public conference, an oral history project and a prize-winning video tape, a scholarly conference and a book of essays. . . . " However, de­spite the putative wholeness of this wealth of projects, this book needs to be evaluated on its own merits as one of the more accessible components of the entire endeavor. The greatest strength of the book lies in its illustrations, which help to re­create, in part, the absent exhibit. The authors are to be applauded for includ­ing not only textual material on the desert's daughters themselves but also photographs of the women in the field, their (often male) mentors, their stu­dents, some of their subjects of study, and selected artifacts from the original exhibition. A map included in the in­troduction clearly identifies all of the geographic areas and ethnic groups mentioned in the book. The book's organization is a com­bination of thematic and chronological approaches. It is divided into three sec­tions, entitled, "Discovering the Southwest," "Understanding Cul­tural Diversity," and "Interpreting the Native American." This appar­ently tight organization breaks down upon closer examination. The first sec­tion is devoted to three recognized pio­neers in southwestern anthropology. The second section, covering eleven anthropologists, is subdivided by the cultures they studied: the Pueblo, Navajo, Papago, and Yaqui. The third section groups thirty-one women ac­cording to their academic disciplines: folklore, archaeology, poetry, and so on, although they, too, often studied the Indian groups mentioned above. Within each subsection minibiog-raphies of the women are arranged chronologically by birthdate; however, these essays usually begin with their first academic training. This shifting organizational structure destroys a sense of focus, but it does encourage the reader to browse and sample. As an exhibit, it must have been intriguing; as a reference work, its force is dissi­pated. The authors have done what they could to make information on each of the women more accessible. The table Book Reviews and Notices 291 of contents includes an alphabetical listing of those featured in this study. A selected bibliography at the end of the book lists the women's published works. Although the authors have had to make their selections from a much larger group, they do not share their criteria except to say that all those in­cluded began their careers before 1940. Here the reader might look for the cel­ebrated novelist and essayist Mary Austin and find her; one can search in vain for Sharlot Hall, Arizona's first historian and collector and curator of Anasazi artifacts. Someone wishing to learn more about a particular female anthropologist of the Southwest - or an artist or a photographer - would simply have to consult the volume to see if she appears here. Overall, Daughters of the Desert is more impressionistic than empirical. It offers a good starting point for the serious student; the uninitiated may be intrigued to learn more. NANCY J . TANIGUCHI College of Eastern Utah The Northern Navajo Frontier, 1860-1900: Expansion through Adversity. By ROBERT S. MCPHERSON. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1988. x + 133 pp. $22.50.) Although much has been written about the Navajo Indians, more litera­ture on America's largest group of native inhabitants continues to be pro­duced. While it may seem that the sub­ject has been explored beyond its re­sources, Robert S. McPherson proves that there are still some topics concern­ing this culture that are worth investi­gating. In The Northern Navajo Frontier, McPherson explores a region of the modern-day reservation that has here­tofore been ignored, one reason being the fact that this was an area peripheral to the center of Navajo occupation. Only when federal troops began to round the Navajos up for the forced march to the Bosque Redondo did this section begin to serve as a retreat for those who escaped. In addition, the Four Corners region was not central to Navajo activities and was, therefore, utilized by other Indians and Anglo settlers. Thus, many peoples were at work here, including Utes, Paiutes, Mormons and other settlers, cowboys, and miners. While most writers have viewed the Navajos as a defeated people after the Long Walk, with little or no authority to guide their future course, McPher­son feels that they exerted much more control over their affairs, especially in this vacillating region. Unlike other Indian groups, the Navajos were able to increase the size of their reservation as their population expanded. Most of these additional areas were relatively uncontested, but the frontier region just south of the San Juan River at­tracted a wide variety of speculators who sought to utilize its resources. For each of these groups the Navajos had a plan designed to enhance their own control. Intermarriage with Paiutes tended to negate their differences with the Utes who also had relatives within this tribe. While their relationship with the Mormons commenced on friendly terms, the Navajos sought to expel them when they attempted to control the area's resources. Other Anglos competed for water, land, minerals, and trade items only to find the Nava­jos more than capable of defending their claims. Although this book opens up an area that is rather dynamic in terms of the 292 Utah Historical Quarterly various interests involved, it also has some problems. Most significant is the size of the manuscript. It is less than one hundred pages long and part of it has already been published in the New Mexico Historical Review. Does this rather brief account justify another book on the Navajos? Actually, this re­viewer feels that it does because the analysis is more than simply another book on an Indian tribe. This is a sig­nificant section of the Southwest be­cause it is a caldron of cultural activity with no particular group in complete control. The ebb and flow of relation­ships between the various factions pro­vide fascinating reading. Perhaps a more detailed map could aid readers who are unfamiliar with the region. Also, the author seems too concerned with justifying the role of the Mormons at times. Still, McPherson has made excellent use of the limited resources available, including interviews with Navajos and a look at their legends. The result is a book that is informative and innovative. One only wishes that the author would have expanded it more into the twentieth century. J IM VLASICH Southern Utah State College Denizens of the Desert: A Tale in Word and Picture of Life among the Navaho Indians. By ELIZABETH W. FORSTER and LAURA GILPIN. Edited and with an introduction by MARTHA A. SANDWEISS. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1988. xiv + 140 pp. $24.95.) What a wonderful book Denizens of the Desert is. The ease of the descrip­tions, the gentleness of the style, en­gage the reader immediately. Just when you thought it unlikely that a book on Native Americans, unmarked by ethnographic clumsiness would ever appear, here is salvation. Elizabeth W. Forster and Laura Gil­pin were two people whose contact with the Navaho emerged not by de­sign but from a reluctant automobile. In the fall of 1930, the car they were driving failed near Chinle, Arizona. As Gilpin set off on foot to seek assistance, Forster remained with the car. Upon Gilpin's return with help, she found her colleague surrounded by a group of Navaho. That, although un­known to the women at the time, was the start of a beautiful relationship. As a result of this encounter, Forster, a nurse, decided to remain on the reservation as a health profes­sional. Gilpin, a skilled photographer, returned to her studio in Colorado Springs but came back regularly to take pictures. The result of this fortui­tous circumstance is a collection of let­ters and photos of unusual warmth and charm. From the letters, one senses that for the Navaho nineteenth-century life­styles lingered well into the twentieth century. Forster and Gilpin were gen­uinely touched by the openness of those they came in contact with. Like two argonauts on a journey of un­known parameters, the women were intrigued by cultural differences yet comforted by the familiar. The result is a heady concoction of thoughts and im­ages portraying a people on the verge of great changes. Perhaps what makes this work so en­gaging is the vividness of life as described by the authors. Their views were shaped during the Great Depres­sion and forged in a time before exten­sive federal intervention in Native American affairs, a world war, and a proliferation of academic anthropolog­ical studies. The result is a book that is written in conversational tones rather Book Reviews and Notices 293 than bumbling jargon and pedantic di­rectives. In 1935 Forster left the reservation to find other employment while Gilpin continued with her career in Colorado. Their lives, however, continued to be entwined and along with that they felt a desire to publish a book on the Navaho that incorporated both their letters and photographs. Although ill health and the pressures of life would delay the reality of publishing until after their deaths in the 1970s, the no­tion of writing a book about their expe­riences was a force throughout their lives. In a way, the book is as much about friendship as it is about the Navaho. It is a view of Native American life filtered through the emotion and expe­rience of two women. Indeed, the thoughtful editing of Martha Sand­weiss conveys both an appreciation of Navaho life that would surely have pleased Forster and Gilpin and a hint of the bonds of affection that linked the two women. If the authors were around today, it would be a pleasure to meet them. ALBIN J . COFONE State University of New York, Selden Old Utah Trails. By WILLIAM B. SMART. (Salt Lake City: Utah Geographic Series, Inc., 1988. 136 pp. $17.95.) Old Utah Trails represents the fifth publication in a series introduced by publisher Rick Reese as " a celebration of this vast landscape that stretches for 85,000 square miles across the state of Utah. The Series [portrays] in words and photographs the unique diversity of Utah's astounding landforms, color­ful history, expansive natural areas, and vigorous people. . . . " The stun­ning photographs readers have come to expect in the Utah Geographic Series are abundant in this visually pleasing overview of the historic trails of early Utah explorers, mountain men, pio­neers, and adventurers. In his introduction, author William B. Smart describes a Salt Lake Con­vention and Visitors Bureau ad depict­ing Salt Lake as the "Center of the West." He also uses the examples pro­vided by a recent Utah highway map and a 1948 highway map, both show­ing the radiating pattern of roads and highways that clearly establish Salt Lake as the center or crossroads of the West. When readers compare present-day maps with the map of the Old Utah Trails at the beginning of the book, the relationship between historic travel and exploration patterns and to­day's road network will be evident. Al­though Old Utah Trails does not pre­tend to be a guide to Utah's historic trails, one of the real pleasures the book provides is the ability to see into the thoughts and journals of explorers and pioneers while viewing the very landscape they traversed. Certainly, every Utah school child has some knowledge of the Mormon Trail, the Escalante Expedition, the Spanish Trail, Forty-niners, the Pony Express, and the Hole-in-the-Rock Ex­pedition. Few of us, however, readily appreciate the profound influence these early explorers and pioneers had on shaping the present-day West. Smart, the former editor and general manager of the Deseret News, has suc­ceeded in combining his passion for ex­ploring Utah's back country with a talent for describing Utah's early his­tory. His first-hand observations of Utah's historic trail routes make his in­terpretation of the journals of early ex­plorers and pioneers meaningful and exciting to the modern traveler- 294 explorer or the armchair Utah history buff. As the author points out. Old Utah Trails is not intended to be the defini­tive scholarly work on the early expedi­tions and the pioneering trails in Utah. It is, however, an excellent anthology providing highly readable, entertain­ing coverage of the major expeditions and missions that shaped the develop­ment of our state. Smart's knowledge of Utah's geography and landscape combine well with the excellent pho­tography to make it possible for the reader to feel the joys and frustrations of the first pioneers to experience the awesome space and dramatic land­scape of Utah. The wide-ranging de­scriptions of the land and the native population taken from the journals of Father Escalante, Jedediah Smith, and Mormon pioneers provide today's reader with the opportunity to under­stand the perceptions of the people that made Utah's history. Smart's account of the tragic Donner-Reed Party, which descended Echo and Emigration canyons into the Salt Lake Valley in 1846, speculates about the cumulative errors that led to their ordeal of starvation and canniba­lism in the Sierra. What if the Donners Utah Historical Quarterly had not listened to Hastings's descrip­tion of an easier route. . . . If snow had not come early to the Sierra Nevada that year? The what ifs of history are fascinating, and Smart seems to enjoy speculating. What if, he asks, the padres had returned to Utah Valley, as they promised the Indians they would, following the visit by Es­calante in 1776? Smart asks us, "What if the Spaniards had colonized this valley and the other valleys Escalante was soon to see to the south? Would Utah's culture today be New Mexico-style Spanish instead of Anglo-Saxon Mormon?" William B. Smart has succeeded in providing the Utah Geographic Series with a versatile geographic history that is as much at home when used to sup­plement a travel guide as it is displayed on a coffee table. Next time you plan a trip across this state look up the Old Utah Trails description of the explora­tion of the area in which you intend to travel. You will see the landscape through the senses of the pioneering spirit we still celebrate. DAVID CONINE Hurricane, Utah 'Be Kind to the Poor": The Life Story of Robert Taylor Burton. By JANET BUR­TON SEEGMILLER. ([Salt Lake City]: Robert Taylor Burton Family Or­ganization, 1988. xiv -h 478 pp. $19.95.) Burton is one of those second-echelon figures in Utah and Mormon history who in the last decade or so have gradually been receiving their historical due in anthologies, journal articles, and full-fledged biographies like this one. During his eighty-six years Burton led a remarkably varied life as a law enforcement official, legis­lator, businessman, militia leader, and church official. He was involved in the dramatic rescue of a pioneer handcart company and was, of course, a leading and controversial figure in the Morris-ite War. This extremely handsome and well-written family biography provides an excellent model for others in the process of writing or publishing a family history or ancestral biography. Copies may be purchased from Rulon T. Burton, 1935 E. Vine Street, Suite 340, Salt Lake City, UT 84121. In­clude $3.00 postage and handling. Phoenix, the History of a Southwestern Metropolis. By BRADFORD LUCKING-HAM. (Tucson: University of Ari­zona Press, 1989. xiv + 317 pp. $29.95.) The first comprehensive history of America's ninth-largest city, Phoenix looks at the forces that have shaped a metropolitan area destined to claim a population of more than three million by the end of the century. The book also examines what lies in the future for Phoenix and other Sun Belt cities where unchecked growth threatens to destroy the very quality of life that cre­ated them in the first place. This wide-ranging study encompasses the eco­nomic, political, social, and cultural history of the Phoenix area from the mid-1860s to the present. While chart­ing the city's expansion, Luckingham also describes the challenges of such big-city issues as annexation, taxation, education, transportation, and dis­crimination against minority groups. Among the Sioux of Dakota: Eighteen Months' Experience as an Indian Agent, 1869-70. By D. C. POOLE. (St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 1988. 287 pp. Paper, $8.95.) First published in 1881, these mem­oirs depict the daily life of the agency as well as the problems Poole faced. Despite his lack of insight into Ameri­can Indian culture, he created a valu­able record of Sioux customs and be­liefs. A substantial and insightful introduction by Raymond J. DeMal-lie, director of the American Indian Studies Research Institute and pro­fessor of anthropology at the Univer­sity of Indiana, places Poole's memoirs in their nineteenth-century context and explains the circumstances sur- 296 rounding the agent's work at the Whetstone Agency near Yankton in present South Dakota. This reprint makes an important and hard-to-find work on the Sioux readily available. General George Crook: His Autobiography. Edited by MARTIN F. SCHMITT. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1986. xxiv + 326 pp. Paper, $9.95.) Crook spent his entire military career, with the exception of the Civil War years, on the frontier. Called the greatest Indian fighter and manager the army ever had. Crook also won the respect and trust of the Indians, in part at least because, as one Indian leader explained, he "never lied to us." A fierce antagonist. Crook nevertheless sympathized with the Indians' plight. This complex man - the lowest-ranking West Point cadet ever to rise to the rank of major general - penned the remarkable story of his life in a straightforward, readable, and ac­curate manner with plenty of detail Utah Historical Quarterly and a strong western flavor. It makes a major contribution to mflitary history and to an understanding of the frontier period. Daniel Boone, Master of the Wilderness. By JOHN BAKELESS. (Lincoln: Univer­sity of Nebraska Press, 1989. xx -i- 481 pp. Cloth, $35.00; paper, $12.95.) StiU the definitive biography of Daniel Boone, Bakeless's work, first pubHshed in 1939, is also one of those rare works that combine exhaustive historical research with a vigorous and readable writing style. According to Michael A. Lofaro's introduction, " . . . before the [Davy] Crockett craze of the mid-1950s inspired by Walt Disney, Boone was far and away the country's twentieth-century choice as its favorite frontiersman. His stature was determined by his life rather than by the circumstances surrounding his death." Boone was, in fact, the proto­type of the frontier hero whose spirit lives on in such contemporary fictional characters as Luke Sky walker.