The settling of the American West is dominated with mythological and oversimplified stories of outlaws, vengeance, and those out for a sense of pioneer renegade freedom. Consequently, it comes as no surprise that many narrations of this history are dominated with the actions of men. Over the past few decades, the unearthing of women’s unique contributions to history has spilled over from the halls of academia and are gaining more popularity with broader audiences. In “Brave Hearted: The Women of the American West,” Katie Hickman looks at these often-treacherous journeys through the eyes of a broad swath of women, from Christian missionaries to businesswomen to sex workers.
Focusing on the years in the middle third of the nineteenth century, one of the book’s fortes is the breadth of women’s experiences that are included. She opens the book with the harrowing story of Narcissa Whitman and Eliza Spaulding who along with their husbands and “an abyss of cultural misunderstanding” wished to cross west of the Rockies to proselytize to the native people. Whitman along with her husband and physician Marcus eventually settled among the Cayuse Indians. When an epidemic of measles broke out among the native population, Cayuse leaders believed that Marcus was purposefully trying to infect them. I want to urge you to read the book, so I won’t mention how it turns out, but it doesn’t end well for the Whitman family. The story of the Donner Party, which Hickman also retells, doesn’t need to be recounted and has a better-known but just as unfortunate outcome.
Maybe the most wonderful recounting in the book is that of Biddy Mason, one of the very first African American slaves to make the trek west. Mason “belonged” to Robert Smith, a follower of Brigham Young. She followed him there in a wagon train – the whole time nursing a newborn, tending to two other children, and taking care of Smith’s livestock. Under the false pretense of winning freedom for her and her children, Mason followed Smith first to Texas then to California where she was promised freedom. Only after a long, protracted legal battle did she finally win her case. Afterward, she parlayed her knowledge of midwifery, nursing, and herbal medicine into an enormous sum by going into real estate, deciding to give much of it away in generous acts of philanthropy. She also cofounded Los Angeles’ First African Methodist Episcopal Church.
The book ends on the tragic but inevitable note that readers all saw coming: the destruction of Native American populations, perpetrated by actions of both settlers and the American government, particularly the Grant administration. Through the systematic decimation of tens of millions of American buffalo and the wars waged on Native populations, by 1880 their numbers were as low as 20 percent of what they were just a few decades before; the few that remained had been permanently pushed onto reservations. To add insult to injury, their children were forced to attend Christian schools that aimed to “civilize” them.
Despite the grit, desperation, and desolation that pervades many of the figures Katie Hickman discusses, there is nevertheless a sense of resilience and determination about them. Women were always present in the American West, despite the way these stories are sometimes told, but it’s refreshing to read a book that gives them their rightful place of prominence. Hickman’s history as a writer of fiction is clear throughout the book. She narrates each of these women’s stories with the flair of a novelist. I’ve spent many years as a reader uninterested by histories of the West for reasons mentioned above. I was always put off by the machismo and the gung-ho attitudes that were read into the major historical players. By evening out that balance, this book has singlehandedly made me want to learn more about the U.S. expansion westward.