--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Beckwith, Frank collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 32 number: 11 published: 1929-09 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Frank Beckwith, “Vestiges of the Ancient Cliff Dwellers,” *Improvement Era* 32, no. 11 (September 1929): 908–916." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera32011unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera32011unse start_page: 908 end_page: 916 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1929-09) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera32011unse publication_year: 1929 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1929, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Vestiges of the Ancient Cliff Dwellers Vestiges of the Ancient Cliff Dwellers I At Mesa Verde National Park ] Ruins Dating into the Pre-History of Our Continent; Possibly the Most Spectacular Ruins in the Entire United States ANCIENT INHABITANTS WORSHIPERS OF SUN By Frank Beckwith I LIVED in Wyoming where the Shoshone Indians were thick until a later time when, by order of the Government, they were removed from that area; and for sixteen years now, in and around Delta, I have found much interest in exploring, conducting research work, and discovering relics, sites, and remains of the many generations of early inhabitants who frequented this arid spot. In the pursuit of that study, drawn by necessity, I have visited many other regions where the ancient Indians lived — Clear Creek canyon, Wayne county, Kanab, every one of our museums, and finally took a tour of seven states to gather first-hand information. Our itinerary took us into Nevada, California, Arizona, old Mexico, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah. This article will deal with the interest, archaeologically considered, of Colorado. A forthcoming article will be devoted to Arizona and New Mexico. At the Mesa Verde National Park, one is struck with the beauty of the scene; the table is mounted from the northwest corner, and in a few miles one is carried upward by the road 2500 feet. As the road winds, on purpose, in and out among the buttes and crags, view after view of magnificent beauty is presented: at Point Look- out, one stops the auto, and looks upon Cortez nestled on the plain below; the shades of cedar darkening the landscape, livened by green fields, or yellow summer-fallowed land: and with here and there a splash as a small reservoir is sighted. Rain was falling in the distance as I looked, adding charm to the scene. The view is magnificent. At the highest elevation, one is at 8575 feet. Then the road descends by easy gradients down the slope of the table top, and one encounters the ancient ruins of Far View House. It was after sun- down that I came to this site; in the soft afterglow, when all was mellowed, and I alone in the utter solitude of the ruin, treading where moccasined feet softly patted the earth how many centuries ago the imagination craves to know, I took off my hat, and in deepest rev- Sept.. 1929 VESTIGES OF THE ANCIENT CLIFF DWELLERS 911 erence stood there, silent, alone, imbibing rushes of the sentiment which the hour and place sent surging through me. I got into the public camp quite late, registered, and walked at once to the rim, and saw for the first time, very dimly in the dark recess of the steep canyon, what could be discerned of Spruce Tree House at that late hour. The next morning before breakfast I was prowling around in its rooms, applying all I had read to kiva, cere- monial dance-drama procession, and the rites of the ancient man who constructed the ruin. Spruce Tree House is tucked under the overhanging cliff; it has been somewhat restored; ruins of three stories in height are quite well preserved, show admirable stone work in their construction, and the timbers of roofing in several rooms are intact. With stone axes, almost gnawing their way through the poles, these were cut; laid in place, the butts protruding through the wall; then a layer of mud, smaller sticks cross ways, more mud, and finally on top, a layer of cedar bark and bast, and over that again, more clay, well trodden down into a hard, compact, tight flooring. One room near the left end as one faces the ruin is left almost as it was, to show the construction. Photo by Frank Beckwilh Spruce Tree House 912 IMPROVEMENT ERA Sept., 1929 A kiva adjacent to it is most interesting; I find my main interest in archaeology in re-constructing a living, breathing, pulsat- ing man who walks around with me, as I wander in the ruins, ex- plaining by pantomime and actual worship his use of each part. And thus alone, supplemented by study, there is not the interruption of a crowd of chattering, attention-dissipating tourists, whose vision is entertainment alone, or, at the highest, a brief and easily satisfied curiosity. In the mind's eye I saw the ancient Cliff Dweller come to this kiva, silent, intent, imbued with religious fervor, and go down the ladder poles; I followed him and witnessed in that same manner his acts of devotion — the prayer and supplication to the six regions, the bare foot, on soil too sacred for covering of moccasin; his entry into the silent circle with strict ritualism, as within a secret lodge. The Governor and his adjutants absorbed with the weighty prob- lem awaiting solution; the cacique, alone, solitary, an acetic, taking upon himself the sins of the tribe, that prayer, fasting and spiritual insight might attune him to receive the message from "The Trues Above" whereby the tribe should find favor with them, and be blessed, or this annoying infliction then besetting them removed. For the supplications of this ancient man were done to find favor with his many powers. Most prominent in that is his adora- tion of the Sun Father and of the Earth Mother, from both of whom he receives his material and spiritual blessings. And that he might the better observe the comings and goings of the Sun Father, the guide showed me a round building, with peep holes in the walls, which, he said it had been conjectured, were holes for observation of the sun at its setting, to get its farthest north and farthest .south positions, to regulate their dance-drama ceremonials. Note that I have used the word "conjectured," for while it is so thought, yet that use is not so firmly established as to be laid down as scientific fact. Similar uses were found among modern Indians by observers fifty to eighty years ago, and it is thought this was a similar procedure. One is at liberty to accept it or reject it. The most spectacular building in the area of the park is Cliff Palace. It was discovered by Dick Wetherhill in 1888, and in the few short years following, masses, tons in fact, of relics, priceless, were dug out, carted away and taken from the ruins. Pots, vessels, artifacts — wholesale — until the women of Denver formed a club for the preservation of our national wonders, and got it made into a National Park and all plundering stopped. Cliff Palace is now greatly restored. I have photos of it as it appeared when first discovered, with the heaps of talus at the foot of the walls; but careful archaeologists fitted fallen blocks into place, s*pt.. 1929 VESTIGES OF THE ANCIENT CLIFF DWELLERS 913 used cement, and today, as nearly as can be, the ruin is restored to its pristine vigor. Cliff Palace is a wonder. I have not seen Pueblo Bonita (as yet!) but I have seen Montezuma's Castle, Zuni, Acoma, the Sky City, Laguna, Isleta, Santa Clara, Taos, the Mecca of thousands of tourists yearly, and the ancient ruins of the Rito de los Frijoles, of the Puye — in fact, almost all the more important ruins and present-day villages, — and still, beautiful Cliff Palace holds its sway as chief of them all, the spectacular, the interesting great communal house of the Mesa Verde. Cliff Palace is tucked under a great over-hanging ledge, an open cave, so to speak. It is thought that nearly as many people as are congregated in the little hamlet of Hinckley, Utah, lived together in Cliff Palace — say from 650 to 850 souls. The ranger points out to you the round tower in the middle foreground, and tells you that it is thought to be the Speaker Chief's House, and that from it, early morns, a crier shouted out the day's activities to the people. It takes little imagination to picture that man, at sun up, in stentorian tones, addressing in formal call his people, laying down the duties of this clan and that, telling what; dance-drama processions the different secret societies will present in the next few days, what clans will repair to the farms for attention to the growing crops, and, in general, informing the people of the activities of that industrious hive. Not a stone in Cliff Palace but that you or I could have carried up the long trail from the canyon below, or gotten down the steep path from above; unlike Chili, Peru, or other centers where immense megatlithic stones, wonders even today, are laid in place. No, with interminable toil, a labor of love, man after man carried piecemeal his burden of stone, that he might aid in erecting this monument to the tribe's greatness. Moccasined feet busied themselves up and down; toe holds were actually worn in the walls where the exit trail leads up and out. It is easy to put back into this ruin the actual living man who built it. One morning in the yesterdays of the long ago the wives became busy and got out the sinew nets for catching game; lengths of from twenty to sixty feet; banded together into a communal hunt; fasten- ed the nets ends to ends, propped them up with sharpened stakes stuck in the ground, all put in place on some selected spot, and then, in a great "surround" the men spread, gradually closed in, and forced the game into these nets. Woe betide the man or woman whose aim missed, as he threw a club or missile at the running game as it turned at the net! For if he missed (the custom of many present-day 914 IMPROVEMENT ERA Sept.. 1919 Sun Temple Photo by Frank Beckwith tribes is) he had to don the garb of woman, the awkward, who can't throw, and be a woman until his missile regained his garments. At these "surrounds" all is giggling, laughter, merriment; how the women do jeer and taunt the man who missed, and is dressed in woman's raiment! It is quite easy to see in the mind's eye that same scene enacted centuries ago. Or, if man and wife do not agree, and separation is imminent, she (for she owns the home, is master, and controls it) — she hangs his moccasins outside the door, and it is "skidoo" for that man from that household then and there. Or, if she gets the huff on, he shrugs his shoulders in a certain way, wraps up his mantle to his shoulder, partly covering his face, and thus, with a cold shoulder averted, stalks away from wife and home. And even at that, divorce was uncommon, say the ancient writers. The round rooms are the secret, ceremonial rooms of the men; in them the males congregated, rehearsed their dance-drama proces- sions, made ceremonial clothing, ground and mixed the paints for the holiday bedaubing, and chanted the songs. Women were not allowed in them except to bring food to the inmates upon needed occasion. And at times the Navajoes raided the village, when lurking spies brought back word that the men of the Cliff Dwellers, the Sept., 1929 VESTIGES OF THE ANCIENT CLIFF DWELLERS 915 defenders of the village, were holding forth in the kivas, engaged in the work at hand; and thus caught, trapped in the raid, many a village of the Cliff Dweller was decimated by these relentless enemies. But the women folk conquered their conquerors; for as the more or less nomadic Navajoes took the women to live with them as wives, these wives taught their lords how to weave, until now, al- most all the tribes depend upon the Navajoes for blankets and other woven articles, and are ceasing the art which they once so adroitly practiced. A trip to the Mesa Verde is only begun by seeing Cliff Palace and Spruce Tree House; — to me the real interest was in the wonder- ful Sun Temple. Here the primitive man had erected what in his crude beginnings of architecture was to him a magnificent, stupendous monument to the father of all — the Sun Father. When discovered it was a mound, grown over with evergreens, but slightly betokening what that mound concealed within. Archaeologists dug, and bared to view great massive walls, now only low lying, for none of them are over seven feet or so high, but about three to four feet thick. The build- ing tops the mesa brow, fairly close to Cliff Palace. Archaeologists think this building had no roof — never had one. No roof timbers are found, though they are found in excellent preservation in Balcony House, in Spruce Tree House and elsewhere. No artifacts of any kind implying domestic use were discovered in or around this build- Photo by Frank Beckivith Cliff Palace 916 IMPROVEMENT ERA s,Pt.. 1929 ing, hence it is thought it never was a dwelling, but was designed and used as a temple of worship. The rising sun may be seen from this at all times of the year. Likewise when Old Sol sets, his position can be studied and marked in memory. His journeyings north and south, besides his daily rising and setting may be studied in this now ruined temple. It is only a step in the mind's travel to think of the ancient Maya, with their wonderful astronomy — a system more accurate than was our own the day that Cortez placed foot upon their shore — and then to span the distance to this Sun Temple topping the mesa near Cliff Palace, and imagine this man also a sun worshipper, regarding the great orb of day as the Sun Father. All scientific investigation of the present-day Indian reveals that much of his religious ceremonies is a direct thanks to the Earth Mother for her bounty, the blessings of crops, of birth, life, nourish- ment, food both from soil and from animal form. "The vivifying rays of Our Father, the Sun, are received by Our Earth Mother, and by her engendered into all that is — the myriad forms of life upon which man lives. We thank Our Mother for her bounty." As I visited village after village; as I applied the study I had given to scientific books to what was before me, more and more ;t grew on me that here was more of the inner actuating motive of the ancient man than was embodied in Cliff Palace. For here was his religion; and religion motivates us all. In the same proportion to his achievements, was I then looking (compared with our own forebears) upon his striving, his yearning for, his achievement to- ward building a Rheims Cathedral, the mighty pile of Westminster, the sacred edifices of Strasburg or Milan. Compared thus, here was bis inner expression, toward that same goal on which our civilization spent its greater efforts in the Middle Ages, and upon which we look with reverential awe. For he, too, strove to worship his Sun Father to the best of his capabilities: he built the best he could; he erected the pride of that tribe, the glory of that ancient Indian nation, if such there were in that region at that time. He expressed himself From the dawn of civilization down through the ages, religion has been man's chiefest motivating urge; he has i ought for his religion, he had builded for his religion: he has migrated, he has settled: he has subdued, fought stubborn nature, builded empires — all for his religion. So in standing upon the ruins of Sun Temple. I felt that it was the more important expression of the ancient man than any other evi- dence in the area. You will see a stump of a tree in the illustration, apparently growing right out of the cement of repair in the wall to the upper left: it is a tree which as a seed found lodgment in a crack Sept., 1929 VESTIGES OF THE ANCIENT CLIFF DWELLERS 917 in the wall, some time after abandonment of the temple, carried there by wind or bird. That tree has 360 annual rings, denoting a lapse of 360 years since it was large enough to form its first ring. Allow a time before that for abandonment, then a time for dust to blow in sufficient to give root, and scientists think the age of occu- pancy cannot be less than 600 years ago. That puts this temple back into 1300 A. D. — possibly into 1 100 A. D. And how much before that it was occupied, how many centuries of occupancy pre- ceded that abandonment has not yet been solved. It seems very reasonable to conjecture on all evidence that ap- proximately 1 100 to 1300 A. D. this temple ceased to be used; say a thousand to eleven hundred years age that it was. Why it was abandoned is not known. Scientist dare not risk a reputation in vain statement, as additional evidence of archaeology may disprove what is now a reasonable conjecture. In my own research into the ancient Indian's past, I wish to clothe the man with flesh and blood and put him back into the scenes of his daily life, now tilling a field, then again bearing home a burden of deer stalked on the mesa top; now terrified with supposed sorcery of a witch, then engaging in a sacred dance-drama procession; now resisting a raid from Navajo or Apache, then electing a sun priest to officiate at this sacred edifice. Thus to me is the man brought back to life; I see living, breathing, pulsating men, throbbing with action, bowed by sorrow, exultant in victory — not a mere dry-as-dust scientific cataloging of artifacts, a museum index in hand as I study! Not so. As I toured Arizona, the Apache, once our dread, met me with smiles, received my request to take a picture with a giggle — and I got some excellent negatives; the Navajo accorded me a gracious consent: the Zuni, the Acoma. the inhabitant of San Ildefonso. of Santa Clara. of Laguna — why they all were most hospitable. Not once did I meet with rejection. And I wonder if it was not my friendly attitude of mind, my deep and abiding respect for the brother of the brown skin — a som-' thing which he felt — that got for me impress'ons which were re- corded in personal experience as well as upon the camera film, and which shall keep alive the memory of a trip never to be forgotten, linking a kindly, hospitable, friendly living Puebloan with his fore- bears, known to us through archaeology as the Cliff Dweller. Who knows? The ruins in Mesa Verde National Park are wonderfully inter- esting, even to the casual tourist; but to the one attuned, they arc fascinatingly absorbing — a treasure trove. And easy of access, for the roads are fairly good in Utah down to the corner of the State. 918 IMPROVEMENT ERA Sept.. 1929 and better in Colorado. There are accommodations of any kind at the park headquarters. Another phase of interest are the lec- tures evenings by the rangers or superintendent, or distinguished visitors, which add a flavor of charm, and are at the same time highly instructive. Delia. Utah Impressions By Derrah B. Van Dyke Recently I attended the funeral of a friend. He was a splendid Latter- day Saint boy of high school age who had honored his parents, had honored the Priesthood which he held and, to a remarkable degree for one so young, had been an influence for good in the lives of his associates. During the evening of the same day, I attended a lecture given by an eminent phil- osopher who is also an author of high distinction, an orator of nationally ac- claimed ability and a recognized authority on his chosen subject. To the boy's funeral came men and women of many vocations. However, the predominant type was the humble, sun-tanned tiller of the soil. Sitting near to me in the small country chapel was a Japanese, grey at the temples, with benevolent, weather-beaten coun- tenance. During the services he scarcely moved. With bowed head and tear-dimmed eyes, his attitude bespoke homage, reverence and respect more convincingly than could the words of a Demosthenes. His was a silent tri- bute to the young friend1 who was of a different race and a different religion, yet whom he loved. The parents of the boy, stricken with grief yet unconquered by it. radiated the sweet, strong faith of those who know the Gospel of Jesus Christ to be true. The sermon was delivered by one of the Twelve. It was simple and di- rect, yet the thoughts were of profound import. The assurance of a definite Gospel plan and of life beyond the grave- struck straight to the heart. And the remainder of the services was in harmony with the sermon. To the lecture came men of many vocations. All in evening clothes, the group was impressive against a back- ground of a beautiful room in a beau- tiful building. After dinner, the speaker was introduced. I sat in awed admiration during his discourse — ad- miration for his fund of knowledge, his logical intellectual processes, his wide vocabulary. He delved deeply into the learning of men. Impressions! From the one event I took admiration for the intellectual achievements of a man and an intel- lectual hypothesis with which I men- tally struggled for a few hours but have since forgotten. From the other event I took what I feel to be a bit of eternal truth. I would compromise war. I would compromise glory. I would com- promise everything at that point where hate comes in, where misery comes in. where love ceases to be love, and life begins its descent into the valley of the shadow of death. But I would not compromise Truth. I would not com- promise the right. — Henry Wattersort.