Let me wrap up the trip that my son and I made out west. After leaving Great Basin National Park we headed straight home. We did make one short stop, though, at the Cahokia Mounds across the Mississippi from St. Louis.
I’ll have one more post about this trip where I reflect on trying to do the whole thing barefoot and not really succeeding.
But on to Cahokia.
Cahokia was a city built by American Indians that was most important from around the year 900 to 1300 or so. Its estimated population was around 13,000 people, which was larger than the population of London at the time.
What is most noteworthy was not only the size of the city, but the earthworks construction. Most famous is “Monk’s Mound”, which is mainly what my son and I visited. The name “Monk’s Mound” came from a Trappist monk who lived there in the early 1800s.
Here’s the approach from the parking lot.
And here is the front walkway.
As you can see, it is huge, something like 100 feet high. It was constructed basketfull-by-basketfull of dirt and clay.
From the top (looking west) you can see St. Louis, and the Arch, in the distance.
I found it a bit difficult to get a feel for the place; it seems rather sterile. At this point it is just a huge grassy lump that just sits there. It is hard to imagine the vibrancy of a city.
One reason I wanted to stop at Cahokia is because of the earthworks where I live in central Ohio. The earthworks near me are Hopewell (100-400 AD, or so) (or earlier). I’d also note that moundbuilding is something very characteristic of the eastern Indians, from Florida to Wisconsin and up into Canada. It varies from burial mounds (I’m pretty sure these are/were the most common), to effigy mounds, to geometric earthworks (which are popular here in Ohio), to the astronomically aligned earthworks of Newark.
Here’s the view looking east from atop Monk’s Mound.
Let me draw your attention to the parking lot.
There were a lot of people visiting. It’s too bad that, on a Monday, the museum was closed (which we did not know about). It is too bad that a UNESCO World Heritage Site cannot find sufficient funds to keep a museum open all week. This is the first time I’ve had that problem with a World Heritage Site. I think this also led to my finding the site rather sterile.
There was something else going on there, though. Going back to the picture looking east off the top of the mound, you might notice other activity.
That was an archaeological dig.
Here’s a much closer look, since my son and I headed over.
Not only could you see the work progressing, but they had a docent there explaining what was going on.
The place wasn’t entirely empty of information. There were a few informational signs scattered about (though nothing like a museum visit). It did give me a chance, though, to see their depictions of the natives.
Here’s one of the murals on one of the signboards.
[Click for larger version.]
I also like seeing how barefoot they represent the natives. In a lot of places it seems as if the display planners simply cannot imagine that people used to go barefoot a lot, and they pepper their natives with moccasins. Yes, they wore moccasins, but as far as I can, they were worn when needed, not as fashion accessories.
We even have a description of the Cahokia area (ok, it was really the St. Louis area, but from before St. Louis was built), from the Relation de la Louisianne; et du Mississippi, by the Chavlier of Tonti (first governor of Fort Saint Louis). In it, when describing the Indians (around 1680), he says
A l’égarde des vêtemens, la plûpart ne s’en servent pas, & vont tout nuds; leurs corps sont accoûtumez & endurcis à toutes les injures de l’air, & leurs pieds insensibles aux épines.
In regard to clothing, for the most part, they don’t use it, and go totally nude; their bodies are accustomed and hardened to all the challenges of the air, and their feet insensitive to thorns.
There is also a block cut illustrating that.
So, how did the displays do? Well, I didn’t get into the museum (closed, right?), but their website has this picture:
That’s just superfluous footwear. I really doubt people would wear it just going about their daily live around the village. If it is warm enough to go shirtless, they would almost assuredly go barefoot, too (particularly on that surface). Moccasins would be reserved for long trips, or colder weather.
How’d did the mural do?
A close-up near the water shows bare feet. That makes sense. If you are in and about the water, of course you go barefoot. Why ruin a good pair of moccasins that you’ll need when it gets cold?
Here’s another close-up, from the left side of the mural.
You can see that the guy squatting on the right is barefooted. However, the man on the left is shod, and with rather fancy moccasins, at that. Again, these seem totally unnecessary in this situation. Maybe the folks who made the display felt they just had to show moccasins (because they wouldn’t be Indians without moccasins, right?), and they put them on him. Or he might be a higher-status person (note the skirt/kilt rather than a loincloth) and felt that footwear was part of that.
Overall, the stop at Cahokia was a pleasant relief from a long drive. I would have been happier to have been able to visit a museum (and to have seen just a bit less footwear 🙂 ).
“…just a bit less footwear”. Or, if they have the evidence, what sort of clothing was used in the winter. This is hardly tropics.
Good point. In winter, from what I’ve seen, they tended to wear mantles (cloaks) and moccasins (and they stuffed the moccasins with grass for insulation). I wrote a bit about that in Temperature Tolerance, in which you can see this picture.
Native in Winter
Yet, museums’ dioramas always seem to show the Indians in summertime and half-naked. I wonder why that is?
[I was just at the Ohio History Center the other day, and one of their dioramas has Indians hunting for deer in the fall. You know it’s fall from the leafless trees. The Indians are wearing loincloths and moccasins.
Now, I’ve hiked in the fall without much on and I’m quite comfortable like that down to about 50°. But the diorama seems to be pushing the nakedness angle.]
The thing about stuff like this is that it usually has way more to do with what historians want to have happened than what actually happened.
Or what they see in films. It’s actually fairly surprising to me that the drawings don’t depict westerners dressed as native Americans, considering how big that influence is. People see things on a screen and it implants false memories and false knowledge.
If you ever visit Germany, expect all museums to be closed on mondays. I would be quite surprised to see one open on this day of the week.
It is interesting to note that in museum artwork and dioramas with native Siberians they are almost always pictured in Winter, or in winter warm clothes. That’s my impression at least. Is it because the winter clothes of the Selkup and other Siberian peoples are really picturesque and can be nicely decorated, or just because winter is a more natural state of things for us here Siberians 🙂 Or perhaps they wore rather elaborate clothes in summer too, probably because of the gnats. I have never seen such a thing as a native Siberian in a loincloth or with a bare torso. Not sure about feet.
Maybe you can find some old books describing early contact with the Siberians that describe what they wore in different seasons. That’s basically how we know what early American Indians wore.
BTW, the now famous Tarahumara Indians: do they im reality run barefoot or in sandals?
Pretty much sandals (huaraches) as far as I know. In Born to Run they were pretty amazed by Barefoot Ted.
And these days, it appears a large number (half?) have converted to standard running shoes (ugh). See Dr. Lieberman, I Presume?.
“Ah, God, how is the house of Kalabukhov fallen!” the Professor cried out. (Bulgakov, Heart of a Dog).
Born and raised in the small town of Cahokia, which, actually is a bit further south of the mounds but practically on the border of the Mississippi river.