The revisionist, sometimes disaffected, historians of the late twentieth century, especially of the American West, have sadly misinterpreted, if not disparaged outright, the paintings of many, probably most, artists of the nineteenth-century's trans-Mississippi frontier. That narrow-minded assessment, which in many ways culminated in The West as America exhibit at the National Museum of American Art in 1991, portrayed such laborers on canvas as George Catlin (1796-1872) as not much more than nascent imperialists and/or apologists for a Euroamerican conquest of North America, including what became the continental United States. To those myopic modern-day interpreters of America's past, the white man's primarily westward advance had little or nothing to redeem it. Such views, it seems to me, come close, if not in fact, amount to"throwing the baby out with the bath," so far as the study of the American West is involved. Of a certainty, they"muddy the waters" to such an extent the student is at a loss to"see" (or appreciate) what a person such as Catlin, not only through his paintings, but perhaps even more importantly through his writings, had to offer (and still does) regarding Native American cultures, especially on the Great Plains.

With that assertion in mind, let me suggest to the reader the following--if one will only consider the works of Catlin (both in visual and printed form) in toto, it should become apparent to the fair-minded observer that the man in question was a true ethnologist, perhaps even what one might call for lack of a better word a"proto-anthropologist." That would make Catlin a person to be reckoned with so far as his studies of the Indians were concerned; and, as I have stated in the subtitle of this essay, an apologist for the Native Americans and their way of life (on the plains in particular), before the incursions of the white man's civilization altered, if not obliterated, it entirely.

With that thought in mind, let us proceed to an examination of Catlin's life shortly after his arrival in St. Louis, Missouri, in 1830. Within two years he embarked from there on the American Fur Company's steamboat, the Yellowstone, the first such vessel on the Missouri River, which Catlin and the others on board made use of to reach Fort Union, almost 2,000 miles upstream at the mouth of the Yellowstone River.

On the journey Catlin had a number of opportunities to paint Indians, such as"The One Horn" (a chieftain among the Sioux), as well as depict"dances, feasts, and ceremonies" [from p. 186 of William H. Goetzmann's Exploration and Empire: The Explorer and the Scientist in the Winning of the West (1966)]. On this voyage up the Missouri, Catlin also had several chances to begin collecting the belongings and/or artifacts of native Americans in the West, to which were finally added, over the course of eight years (1832-1840) on the Great Plains and in the Rocky Mountains, roughly 300 portraits of Indians (of men, women, and a few children). His initial collection was enhanced, to quote Catlin, as given by Goetzmann (p. 188) with"200 other paintings in oil, containing views of their villages--their wigwams--their games and religious ceremonies--their dances--their ball plays--their buffalo hunting . . . and the landscapes of the country they live in, as well as a very extensive and curious collection of their costumes and all their other manufactures, from the size of a wigwam down to the size of a quill or a rattle."

Wondrous though it may seem, Catlin managed to transport that"treasure trove" to the east coast of the United States, all (or most of which) made up his Indian Gallery. He opened that exhibition in New York City (1837) at the Stuyvesant Institute. With him on stage were a goodly number of Indians, including the great chief Keokuk and a number of Sioux, along with members of the Sauks and Foxes tribe. They performed war dances, as well as shot arrows from their bows.

Encouraged by the warm reception to that extravaganza, Catlin set out across the Atlantic Ocean with the Indian Gallery for England in 1839. There his show opened in the Egyptian Hall of Piccadilly Circus (London), where it gained immediate acclaim. Even the Queen of England and the Prince Consort attended Catlin's exhibition more than once.

Not satisfied yet with his triumph, Catlin moved on to Paris, France, where his paintings and the rest of the Indian Gallery went on display at the Louvre in 1845. King Louis Philippe, after viewing the exhibition the first time, was so impressed he brought the Queen, the rest of his family, along with his guests--the King and Queen of Belgium, to see the Gallery.

It remains to mention, while Catlin was abroad, and before he had left London for Paris, he published in England his Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Conditions of the North American Indians (1841). That two-volume work, which brought together letters he had written during his eight-year sojourn on the Great Plains and the eastern slopes of the Rockies, appeared first in serialized form in the New York Commercial Advertiser (1830-1839).

To the present day the Letters and Notes constitute one of the finest studies that have ever been written. In some respects they will never be equaled, much less surpassed. For, as Goetzmann in his book, cited above, stated rightly regarding Catlin: he was"the greatest of the American explorer-naturalists" (p. 184), as well as a meticulous painter (particularly of portraits) and ethnologist. Catlin demonstrated as much, especially in the realm of ethnology, for as Joan Carpenter Troccolli observed in First Artist of the West: George Catlin Paintings and Watercolors (1993), he took that new science from the gentleman's studio to the field, where native peoples could be observed and their life styles recorded firsthand (p. 13). Catlin realized, before almost anyone else, the importance of direct observation to the accurate portrayal of a culture. For, as he stated in Letters and Notes, as given by Troccolli (p. 13), to"record justly and correctly the character and customs of a people, [one] must go and live among them." An ethnologist or anthropologist to this very day could not put that better, much less more accurately, so far as those related disciplines are concerned in practice.

But, more must be said here, if one expects to give Catlin his proper due. So far as the Native Americans of North America are concerned, and especially as they lived out their lives in the Great Plains of the early nineteenth century, Catlin defended (more importantly often praised) their worth and made clear, particularly in Letters and Notes, his admiration for their culture. That point of view made him a rarity among white Americans, most of whom viewed the Native Americans of the country as"savages" and as an impediment to progress.

With such a negative mind-set regarding Indians, most whites in the United States, if not also in other parts of the world, rejected utterly Catlin's belief that Euroamericans could learn from Native Americans and improve their modes of living as a result. That is why it must be emphasized--Catlin was more than a scientist, or historian of the Indian, as it was his wont to call himself; he was also an apologist for Native Americans. That should never be forgotten in studying his life or his contributions to ethnology and anthropology.

One illustration, and a good one at that, makes abundantly clear how Catlin throughout his Letters and Notes often juxtaposed the mores of white civilization with those of Native Americans in the West (sometimes that was done only implicitly, but in the instance to follow here, explicitly). With this result--the Indian appeared as much more than a"noble savage," but a person to be reckoned with in terms of ethics by any thoughtful man or woman.

Now for the anecdote; in volume two of Letters and Notes (pp. 241-42) Catlin related in some detail a conversation he had with a Sioux chief on the upper Missouri River. The former man opened this verbal exchange with a criticism of what he (Catlin) thought were the cruel practices of the Sioux tribes in" their punishments and tortures of prisoners" (p. 241). Following those remarks, Catlin got more than he had bargained for--the Sioux chief made a rejoinder at length on the white man's practices, including the hanging of criminals (" choked . . . to death like dogs") and soldiers at the military outpost at Council Bluffs, Iowa, many of whom, he had seen, as they were"tied to a post and whipped almost to death." But, the Indian was not finished:"he had been along the Frontier, and a good deal amongst the white people, and he had seen them whip their little children--a thing that is very cruel--. . . He [the Sioux chief] put me a chapter of other questions, as to the trespasses of the white people on their lands--their continual corruption of the morals of their women--and digging open the Indians' graves to get their bones, & c." (p. 241). As Catlin admitted (to himself and to this formidable opponent in debate), the shortcomings of white civilization had been laid bare. To which Catlin appended: he had been"quite glad to close [his] note-book, and quietly escape from the throng [of other Indians, who] had collected around [him]" (p. 242).

With that verbal exchange in mind, let me conclude with this advice, not only for the student (of any age), but also for any would-be or revisionist historian in fact. Don't dismiss the life's work of Catlin as nothing more than that of a"nascent imperialist," as cautioned against at the outset, or as some visionary of the nineteenth century's Romantic Age. To do so would constitute a serious"mishandling" of the record of Catlin's achievements in both printed form (his writings) and visual images (the paintings). But, if that is done, in spite of my advice, do it at one's peril, so far as the judgment of future historians of Catlin will be concerned.