Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Toby Morantz
To cite this article: Toby Morantz (1998) The past and the future of ethnohistory, Acta Borealia,
15:1, 59-77, DOI: 10.1080/08003839808580475
To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/08003839808580475
Toby Morantz
McGill University
America, peoples who themselves did not leave written records of events
and how they were affected by them. As such, it is really no different than
the history of women or Africa or the working class - any group which was
non-literate and has not left records of its own history. Anthropologists in
North America first took up the writing of Native Peoples' history in the
1950s. They saw it as some sort of hybrid of anthropology and history and
so called it 'ethnohistory'. It is only in North America, I believe, that history
known by this name exists, despite the fact Europeans are writing ethnohis-
tories. See for example the work of Lars Ivar Hansen on Sami-centred histor-
ical perspectives of their ecological and economic adaptation (1990;1996).
American anthropologists in the 1950s felt compelled to add 'ethno' to
history because academic history bypassed peoples other than Anglo-Ameri-
cans (Nabokov 1996:11). Furthermore, methodologically, it drew on sources
ignored or scorned by historians. Additionally, it was a history first ventured
into by anthropologists who, naturally, gave primacy to considerations of
culture. In subject matter and method, it was not history but ethnohistory.
The convention in Western history has been that the historian usually is a
member of the society about which the history is written from records left
by other members. In ethnohistory, though, it was mainly academics of
European descent, using records left by earlier Europeans, all outsiders,
interpreting and writing the history that focused on the lives of Native
Peoples as they came into contact with the Europeans. Therefore these
ethnohistories drew on the principles of anthropology to aid in interpreta-
tion of the historical data. Given the nature of the documents, it is no
wonder that the early focus of ethnohistory was change (Trigger 1986:256)
and continues to be so. The documents tend to focus on the various types
of transactions between the Native populations and the Europeans; analyz-
ing the nature of this contact was made easier with principles developed in
the acculturation studies begun in the United States in the 1930s (Washburn
and Trigger 1996:99-100). As Trigger comments, it was generally agreed that
what made ethnohistory distinctive was its use of "documentary evidence
and oral traditions to study changes in non-literate societies from about the
time of earliest European contact" (Trigger 1982:2). Ethnohistory carved out
a new field of inquiry [Indians and their responses to contact] and in doing
so spawned a new methodology distinct from anthropology and history. For
some practitioners, it is sometimes thought of as methodology only and by
others as the subject matter this methodology has produced. It is confusing
but ethnohistory has come to be seen as both a methodology and a kind of
history, much as is archaeology.
Although there were several excellent ethnohistories written in the 1930s
(see Bailey (1969 [1937]) and Keesing (1939)), ethnohistory did not develop
as a specialization until the post-World War II period when the United States
supported decolonization movements in Africa and Asia, thereby drawing
THE PAST AND THE FUTURE OF ETHNOHISTORY 6l
attention to its own colonialism within its borders. American Indian Nations
were directed to seek redress for lands taken by the American government
and people and an Indian Claims Commission was established. The scholars
invited to research the issues of land claims were anthropologists, Indians
then being the 'domain' of anthropology (Trigger 1986:257).
Until recent decades, the writing of history used a 'top down' approach,
more an imperial or political history of elites, and Indians, women, working
class, ethnics were essentially ignored (Appleby, Hunt and Jacob 1994:5).
Thus, this land claims research heralded a new approach to the study of
Native Peoples and to history, although professional historians did not them-
selves embrace such thinking for several decades (ibid: 188-89). This
approach is summed up in Stephen Hugh-Jones' comments that "tribal
peoples did not suffer history; they also made it and continue to do so"
(1989:53). Ethnohistory also added an historical dimension to the ethno-
graphic present which is so dominant in anthropological fieldwork studies.
Nevertheless, ethnohistory has always remained a minor field of study
because anthropology has always favoured the field to the archives. Perhaps
this is changing as 'natives' close fieldwork situations to anthropologists and
funding agencies make it more difficult to get to those that are still open.
Ethnohistory did not long remain the domain of anthropologists. As
professional historians began writing histories more inclusive of minorities
(Appleby et al 1994:146), they began reinstating Native Peoples in American
and Canadian narratives.
rians (e.g., Martin 1978) selected ethnographic evidence from a vast area,
from Manitoba to the Maritimes without regard to cultural boundaries. What
did it matter; they were all Indians.
On the other hand, anthropologists erred in telescoping time, such as
applying an innovation of the twentieth century, the use, for example, of
store bought food, to events two hundred years earlier (see Turner and
Wertman 1977). What did it matter; it was the past. Still others failed to eval-
uate the expertise of the historians they were quoting. A widely read anthro-
pologist, Eleanor Leacock (1954:16), quoted from John Oldmixon (193D, an
historian writing in 1708 who used documents of a seaman (Gorst) who had
been in James Bay in the 1670s but Oldmixon had not. If one delves into
Oldmixon's background, we find that he wrote, within a few short years, a
number of brief histories of the colonies in the New World, each colony in
New England and the Caribbean being individually considered. Not surpris-
ingly, he had not mastered the history of Hudson Bay, nor knew about Cree
life and made errors in his interpretations about Cree practices. A historian
would have delved into the reliability of the historic source; this anthropolo-
gist did not and quoted from him uncritically (see Morantz 1992).
It is also an unacceptable practice for historians to select from the
sources only those details which fit one's interest without accounting for the
selection or the negative instances. Leacock's highly influential work offers
us another example of an anthropologist doing history badly. Her much-
quoted 1970s work on the precontact status ofwomen in Montagnais society
is derived from her reading of the 1634 journal of Father Le Jeune (Thwaites
1896:6), a Jesuit priest in New France. She extracts his comments that
support her argument that the egalitarian status of women declined dramati-
cally once the Montagnais began participating in the European fur trade
(Leacock 1978). However, in marshalling her evidence, she omits any
mention of Father Le Jeune's comments regarding the exclusion of Montag-
nais women from the feasts or the depiction of the good spirit as a male and
the evil spirit as a female (Thwaites 1896:6:44-48). Such evidence does not
necessarily prove wrong her claim of this egalitarian status for pre-seven-
teenth century Montagnais women, but this negative evidence should have
been brought forth into her text and explained. It is what is expected of
historians.
The new generation of ethnohistorians, trained in the requirements of
both history and anthropology, do not make such glaring errors. Not only
do they follow the traditional requirements of both anthropology and history
but they are now drawing on a much wider data base, a practice that was
developing in history in the 1970s (Appleby et al 1994:148). For several
decades ethnohistorians, even anthropologically trained, did not use the full
range of anthropological sources, specifically the available archaeological
analyses. Archaeological interpretations are particularly important for they
THE PAST AND THE FUTURE OF ETHNOHISTORY 63
often can provide a cultural base line to know what 'was' before the contact
period. Adroit use of archaeological findings is to be found in Trigger (1976)
but several others also called on this data to establish the earlier cultural
context (see Morantz 1983; Ronda 1984).
With the greater availability of archaeological data, ethnohistorians can
no longer make undocumented claims about precontact society, as has been
done. For example, in her 1969 paper on political organization in the
Quebec-Labrador Peninsula, Leacock (1969.10) presupposed that the size of
a precontact winter group numbered 200 individuals for the James Bay
Crees. The documents suggested winter group sizes of thirty for the post-
contact period. This discrepancy led Leacock to the conclusion that the fur
trade had created dramatic changes in Cree social organization. However,
when the archaeological record is brought to bear, one finds that the
precontact group size was, in fact, thirty not 200 (see Laliberté 1978:96)
There were no dramatic changes in social organization resulting from the
Crees' involvement in the fur trade in the seventeenth and eighteenth centu-
ries. Archaeology, aside from the invaluable data it provides, also serves to
curb the wild speculations of ethnohistorians.
Without access to ethnographic studies and an understanding of how the
societies function, it would be difficult for ethnohistorians to make sense of
the Indian customs and practices found in narratives left, for example, by
seventeenth century Jesuits (see for e.g. Lahontan in Thwaites (1905:2:457)
or LeClercq in W. Ganong (1910:104). They wrote that on marriage, the men
go to live with the wife's family. Matrilocal residence, though, was not the
norm in subarctic hunting societies and we know from the fieldwork studies
that practices such as bride service would readily explain such observations.
With anthropological training, and the knowledge generated in that disci-
pline, one need not take the historic documents at face value.
Other sources of historic knowledge also came to be drawn upon to
round out the record. Cartography became an important source of establish-
ing dates for contact and the progression of European exploration and
settlement across the continent of America, along with the location of Indian
societies. As well, photographs are important to document the changes in
the material culture of the native society, although one learned quickly from
the written documents that people might 'dress up' for a photograph but
prefer their own clothing for daily living. So a photograph of Indian people
in European clothing should never be a call for assuming that traditional
skills of women or men were lost. Museum collections, properly catalogued,
of clothing, tools, etc. also provide important supporting evidence of conti-
nuity and change in a society.
The new trends in the discipline of history that were evolving in the
1960s and 1970s were providing new interests and issues that also alerted
ethnohistorians to the kinds of interpretations they were making. Relativism,
64 TOBY MORANTZ
History catches up
With the reforms to history, with its 'democratization' (Appleby et al
1994:11), and the same in anthropology via postmodern theory with its
production of new models of thought, writing and subjectivity (Best and
Kellner 1996:25), the subfield of ethnohistory no longer has a maverick
quality about it. Its subject matter and methodologies have both become a
part of standard, mainstream history and anthropology. Ought the label '-
ethnohistory' disappear, as Trigger (1982:11) suggested sixteen years ago, for
it differentiates ethnohistory and Indians as subjects apart from history rather
than within the main currents of historical writing. Writing from a 1990s
perspective, though, I question whether ethnohistory will so dissolve or fade
away. I see an insurmountable obstacle to writing a Cree or other Native
history. With the recognition of 'multiculturalism' in history (Appleby et al
1994:72), it should be possible for me to write a history that combines the
historical consciousness of BOTH the Eurocanadians and Indians, a single
history that speaks to both societies. I contend such a history is not attain-
able; the explanation will be demonstrated in a discussion of my research
on the fur trade in eastern James Bay.
exchanged letters with other posts and they corresponded with the head-
quarters staff in London. Other documents they maintained were account
books, inventories and occasionally district reports. Some of the post manag-
ers were highly knowledgeable about Cree life; they married Cree women
and remained in the country, more or less integrated, into Cree society.
Nevertheless, these were still narrowly constructed records of an economic
enterprise detailing who came to the post, what they brought and took in
trade, although over the centuries enough extraneous details did creep into
their journals and correspondence to expand this view of Cree life (see
Morantz 1983). All these journals, correspondence books and ledgers were
duly sent to London once a year, and from 1749 they were kept under lock
and key. This detailed form of correspondence was maintained until 1941.
For eastern James Bay, my area of research, I have had access to records of
the fur trade that span 200 years, with daily accounts for most of those years
for six posts of the dozen or so posts once located in the region. Hence, I
refer to these archives as a gold mine, a veritable national treasure.
What brought the Hudson's Bay Company to Canada was, of course, the
beaver. It was the raison d'etre of the fur trade for its first 200 years. Why
beaver? Beaver pelts consist of two types of hair, a long coarse hair, called
guard hairs and a short barbed underfur, called 'beaver wool'. It was these
barbed short hairs that were needed to make felt, mixed with wool. The felt
was used to make men's beaver hats, a prestige item throughout Europe
until the 1830s when silk hats came into fashion (The Canadian Encyclope-
dia). The fur trade went into decline about that time, with a minor resur-
gence in the 1920s when fur coats for men and women became fashionable
and, as is well known, has subsequently suffered a decline several times but
most recently, since the 1970s, when animal activists began hammering
away at the fur industry.
Thus, the Cree hunters who had for centuries before relied on beaver
meat as one of their principal foods began turning over the pelts from their
harvest to support the fashion industry in Europe in the l600s and, when
you think about it, continue today to support those of us who have taken
up the fashion of ethnohistory.
Using these rich archives for eastern James Bay I wrote, with a colleague,
Daniel Francis, an historical account primarily of the relations between the
Company and the Crees between 1670 and 1870 (Francis and Morantz 1983).
Never did I believe I was writing a Cree history but rather a history of what
transpired in their territory and which I hoped would be used by Crees, as a
spring board from which to examine these events from their own perspec-
tives. I had entered the study convinced that the Cree and other Indian
hunters were thoroughly dominated by the Europeans and I was prepared
to employ a Marxist framework but the writings in the Company records
indicated otherwise, that the hunters enjoyed for much of the fur trade, a
THE PAST AND THE FUTURE OF ETHNOHISTORY 67
witness accounts. The stories of long ago are called atiukan stories and are
thought of as stories of a time when men and beasts were one (Preston
1975:292). However, there is not always a clear distinction between the two
(ibid: 1986) as tipachiman stories can incorporate iconographic encoding
usually found in atiukan stories or myths.
The narrative style in any society's oral tradition is composed of recurring
motifs or metaphors which convey a deeper meaning to insiders of the
culture hearing the story than it would to outsiders (Cruikshank 1990:342-
46). For example, in our European folk-tales there is often the motif of the
wicked step-mother, but it is only after hearing repeated references to the
mistreatment of her step-children that children expect and know the step-
mother is evil. They do not have to be forewarned nor do the Crees have to
be told how to view human relations with the Bear or the Caribou spirits6.
So also does the structure of the story convey meaning that conforms to
cultural models (see Tonkin 1995:50-55). Without a verbal cue, a Cree
listener knows to expect a different set of meanings conveyed in the formu-
laic stories of vanquishing the Iroquois versus the tipachiman stories of the
Hannah Bay Massacre in 1832. Furthermore, stories were originally designed
around performances that in their telling communicated lessons in accepted
views and behaviour, as well as providing a highly important form of enter-
tainment (ibid).
Both types of Cree oral tradition carry coded meanings via the oral text,
in the metaphors and the formulae used in the storytelling. Often, they refer
to what in Western history might be considered the 'non-events' of which
Fogelson wrote. Even if the cultural messages are decipherable, how are
they to be combined with Western histories that have their own agendas,
their own subjects, their own rules of evidence? The two types of historical
consciousness are radically different. In the most simple distinction, one is
linear and progressive, the other more cyclical in form (Preston 1986). Who
were the victors in the story of the elderly Cree woman encountering a
raiding party of Iroquois? In the Western historical tradition it matters who
'won' but this may not be the important message in the Cree version.
Perhaps the behaviour towards strangers is the message, as Vincent (1996)
suggests.
I am a product of Western history not Cree history or Cree epistemolo-
gies, yet I was determined to include Cree insights and versions of Western
events. I would like to write a Cree 'ethno-ethnohistory' but I am foiled in
my attempts to fulfill this ambition because I do not know how to decode
the cultural, symbolic motifs and messages in the oral tradition or what is
important to select from them. If I could, how would I then relate this in a
language and structure meaningful to all of us schooled in the Western tradi-
tion? Accordingly, in a more detailed exposition than is possible to develop
here (Morantz in press) I have examined the distinctive features found in
THE PAST AND THE FUTURE OF ETHNOHISTORY 71
Cree oral tradition, it would still be a history dominated by our own Western
view of history, not theirs (Hugh-Jones 1989:53).7
Yet, another challenge in writing fur trade history is to avoid the univer-
sal assumptions and ideal-type models (Strong 1996:690) that are so much a
part of our postmodern discourse. Without dismissing valuable insights that
are certainly acquired in such enquiries, I question how much ethnohisto-
rians will contribute to outlining the history of native peoples if these
universal issues and models become the template for discussion, as is the
current trend in academia. For example, the discourse of colonialism
produces a colourful, compelling vision of contact history or early relations
between indigenous peoples and English emissaries. This discourse,
anchored as it is in concepts of 'power', 'appropriation', 'territorialization'
and 'coercion' creates, a powerful appropriation of this early history, leaving
little scope for the representations of less violent, dynamic and competitive
encounters. The fur trade encounters in James Bay do not fit this model and
yet the language is so compelling that I have no doubt some years hence
such a portrayal will become the perceived universal portrayal for all of the
fur trade history (see for example Harris 1995; Brealey 1995). If ever Native
People are to make use of the western based histories to help inform theirs,
surely this history must be phrased in a more particularistic manner that is
more recognizable to them and their historians. In the old ethnohistories,
agency (or voice) was given to the Indian men and women but in these new
styles of historic narrative they are once again being relegated to the back-
ground, with titles such as 'Mapping Them Out: Euro-Canadian Cartography
and the Appropriation of the Nuxalk and Ts'ilhqotin First Nations' Territories'
(Brealey 1995) and 'Towards a Geography of White Power in the Cordilleran
Fur Trade' (Harris 1995). In other words, this kind of interpretation, symbolic
and appealing in the type of language employed, does not speak to Native
Peoples about the particular circumstances of their own history but
submerges it into a more universal style of rhetoric.
Conclusion
Ethnohistory, having begun formally in the 1950s as a separate field of
inquiry, distinct from the methodological and theoretical interests of both
history and anthropology, seemed to be heading towards a convergence
with history. As history became more open and inclusive, it appeared as
though ethnohistory no longer had carved out for itself a distinctive niche;
the history of Indians was now being welcomed in both American and
Canadian national histories and it was acceptable to use whatever reliable
sources were available. It appeared as though the distinctive appellation of
ethnohistory would disappear. However, as I have argued here, ethnohistory
THE PAST AND THE FUTURE OF ETHNOHISTORY 73
Notes
1. The Crees of eastern James Bay, today, live in nine villages, five along the coast
and four in the interior of their territory that is now politically situated in the
Province of Quebec, Canada.
2. To this end, see the differences in the ethnohistories written by historians Arthur
Ray (1974) or Robin Fisher (1977), vs. anthropologists Bishop (1974) or Morantz
(1983).
3. Although guns are often said to have been the cause of rendering Indian
societies' 'dependent', in fact the muzzle-loading muskets were not very reliable
instruments of hunting (Given 1987). The Indian hunters found more useful,
items such as twine, clothing, kettles and, in fact, traded a much higher percent-
age of their furs for these manufactured goods rather than guns and steel traps
(Morantz 1984).
4. The Montagnais, today often referred to as Innu share the Quebec-Labrador
Peninsula with the Crees and Naskapis. The languages of all three Peoples are
closely related dialects and there is great similarity in their cultural practices.
5. A survey my graduate seminar of 1997 made of the articles in the journal, Ethno-
history reveals that although recognized as an important source, very few writers
until the late 1980s actually incorporated oral history in their research.
6. Those knowledgeable about Sami mythology might view the point I am trying
to make about the integrity of the myth by looking at the Sami bear myth
(Hansen 1990:274).
7. Hugh-Jones was writing this in reference to Eric Wolfs People Without a History
in which Hugh-Jones (1989:53) comments that Wolf "aims to give back history
to those who have been denied it but the history he provides is doubly our
own".
References
Appleby, J., Hunt, L. & Jacob, M. (1994) Telling the Truth About History.
New York: W.W.Norton.
Axtell, J.(1988) After Columbus. Essays in the Ethnohistory of Colonial North
America. New York: Oxford University Press.
74 TOBY MORANTZ
Acknowledgements
This paper is a substantially rewritten version of a lecture, entitled "The Fur
Trade as an Ethnohistorical Problem", presented in the Department of
History, University of Tromsø on April 24, 1997. I wish to thank very much
Professors Henry Minde and Terje Brantenberg for inviting me to the Univer-
sity and organizing a series of lectures in the Departments of History,
Anthropology and at the Sami Studies Institute. I also thank the faculty and
students at the University of Tromsø for the enjoyable and informative
discussions from which I benefitted greatly and for their very warm and
generous hospitality. Two anonymous reviewers of this paper have helped
me focus and convey more clearly my thinking. I am most grateful but, as
always I, alone, am responsible for the orientation of this paper.
Author's address:
Toby Morantz
Department of Anthropology
McGill University
855 Sherbrooke St.W.
Montréal
Canada H3A 2T7
e-mail: C3BK@musica.mcgill.ca