Archeological investigations in New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah

In Short

This report documents a 1916 expedition to explore and classify prehistoric architecture in New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah. By examining remote cliff houses, defensive towers, and circular masonry structures, the narrative seeks to map the migration trails and cultural development of ancestral Puebloan clans. It serves as an essential bridge between late 19th-century explorations and modern archaeology, grounding its findings in the intersection of structural analysis, ceramic evidence, and the oral histories of the Hopi and Zuñi people.

The Story

The narrative begins with a clear objective: to move beyond the well-known sites of the Mesa Verde and investigate the "archaeological scouting" of lesser-known ruins. The author sets out from Gallup, New Mexico, with the intention of verifying migration legends that trace the movement of the Hopi and Zuñi ancestors. He focuses on the architectural design of these sites, particularly the transition from circular to rectangular forms, which he views as a key to understanding the cultural evolution of the region.

As the journey progresses into the canyons of Utah and the arid landscapes near the Chaco and Crown Point, the author shifts his focus to the "towers" and "mushroom rock ruins"—structures built upon precarious pinnacles and canyon rims. He describes these sites with clinical precision, noting the masonry quality and the strategic defensive placement of the walls. He finds that these structures, often perched in nearly inaccessible locations, represent a distinct architectural tradition that once thrived in the deep canyons of the Colorado River basin.

Throughout the journey, the author grapples with the mystery of why these sophisticated builders abandoned their homes. He investigates the relationship between the ceremonial rooms, or kivas, and the surrounding secular living quarters, concluding that the "tower kiva" was likely the nucleus of the clan. He observes that as different groups moved and integrated, their architectural styles—such as the circular masonry of the north and the rectangular designs of the south—began to influence one another through a process of acculturation.

The narrative reaches its conclusion by synthesizing these observations into a broader argument about the origins of Southwestern cultures. He proposes that two distinct cultural nuclei emerged: one in the low-lying plains of the Gila Valley and another in the rugged mountains of Colorado and Utah. By the time of European contact, these cultures were already in decline, leaving behind the stone towers and cliff dwellings that serve as the only record of their history. The author concludes that the decline in architectural skill—noted in the ruder, later constructions—indicates that these prehistoric societies had already passed their zenith long before the arrival of the white man. The final pages leave the reader with a sense of the vast, unwritten history of the region, where only the silent stone walls and the fragments of pottery remain to bear witness to the complex social and religious lives of those who once inhabited these desolate landscapes.

How It Unfolds

The initial scouting The expedition begins in New Mexico, focusing on verifying tribal legends about the origins of specific Hopi clans. The author moves through the Gallup region, documenting the ground plans of mounds and analyzing the structural similarities between these sites and later, more famous ruins.

The search for circular masonry The author investigates the "Fire House" ruin, identifying its circular construction as a crucial link between the northern and southern pueblo areas. He argues that the distribution of these circular ruins is not accidental, suggesting they represent a specific phase in early Puebloan development.

Exploring the cliff dwellings The focus shifts to the canyons of Utah, where the author examines cliff houses and defensive towers perched on high rock pinnacles. He describes the difficulties of accessing these sites, which are often hidden in remote recesses or atop detached rock formations.

Defining the tower kiva The author synthesizes his findings regarding the "tower" structures, proposing that they served as essential ceremonial centers for individual clans. He compares these structures to other known ruins, arguing that the presence of these towers helps explain the social organization of the prehistoric inhabitants.

A cultural synthesis The book concludes by mapping the two primary spheres of Southwestern influence, the Gila and the Colorado-Utah regions. The author asserts that the complex history of the Southwest is a story of these two cultures meeting, merging, and eventually fading.

The People

The author, J. Walter Fewkes, acts as the primary observer and synthesizer, driven by a desire to bring scientific rigor to the study of oral histories. He does not treat these stories as mere myth, but as critical data points that, when paired with physical evidence, help him reconstruct the movements of ancestral populations. He is a man of his time, preoccupied with the "decline" of indigenous societies, yet he approaches the ruins with profound respect for the engineering skill they demonstrate.

He encounters several local guides and informants, such as the Navaho Indian George H. Hoater, who provides photographs of sites he cannot visit himself. These figures act as essential conduits to the landscape, offering the author a "ground-level" view that formal archaeology often lacks. The inhabitants of the ruins, though long gone, are the true, absent subjects of the text. Through their masonry and ceramics, they emerge as a determined, organized people who adapted their architecture to the specific challenges of their environment—whether by building into the sides of cliffs or establishing high-altitude lookouts on pillars of rock.

In Its Own Voice

"As archeological work in the Southwest progresses, it becomes more and more evident that we can not solve the many problems it presents until we know more about the general distribution of ruins, and the characteristic forms peculiar to different geographical localities."

The author establishes the necessity of a broad, regional survey of ruins to understand the history of the Southwest.

"On the supposition that the red figures represent Indian men or women, the white figures may be white men and the dots and bars an aboriginal count, the whole representing participants in some past event."

While examining pictographs in Nashlini Canyon, the author attempts to interpret the meaning behind the ancient, painted figures left on the canyon walls.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the attempt to reconcile physical evidence with ancestral tradition. The author argues that ruins are not merely piles of stone but are "fossilized" records of social organization and religious life. The book poses a fundamental question about the nature of cultural evolution: how do geographically and environmentally distinct groups influence one another over time? By focusing on the architecture—specifically the kiva—the author explores how the most permanent aspects of a society reflect its most transient, intangible beliefs. It is an argument for viewing the landscape of the Southwest as an active, historical document that, if read with the right tools, can tell the story of a civilization that left no written records.

Why Read It Today

This book is a rewarding read for anyone interested in the foundational era of American archaeology. It captures the spirit of early 20th-century exploration, where the discovery of a ruin felt like solving a riddle of the past. Readers who appreciate vivid descriptions of the American West will enjoy the author’s accounts of navigating the "tangled maze of canyons" and "castellated groups" of stone.

However, the reader should be prepared for the limitations of the era. The prose is academic and occasionally dense, reflecting the scientific standards of 1917, and the author’s attitudes toward indigenous cultures, while respectful of their ancient achievements, reflect the paternalistic lens common to his period. He frequently discusses the "decline" of these cultures in a way that modern readers might find reductionist. Despite these dated perspectives, the book remains a valuable, tactile experience; the author’s obsession with ground plans, masonry thickness, and site placement provides a clear, unvarnished look at the physical reality of these ancient places. It is a work for those who want to feel the grit and dust of the field and appreciate the patient, painstaking labor required to piece together the history of a silent, ancestral land.