HISTORY: American emigration westwards is a long, varied saga, and it was wise of Frank McLynn to concentrate on a single chapter of it. Or more accurately, two chapters - though each is enclosed within the period 1841-1849 - those of the Oregon Trail to the north-west, and the Californian trek almost due west, writes Brian Fallon.
Wagons West. By Frank McLynn. Jonathan Cape. 509pp. £20
The setting-off point for both was Missouri, at a place not inaptly called Independence; and the usual form of transport was the covered wagon, drawn by oxen rather than horses, which were used mainly for riding. These emigrants were not the unskilled helots of later generations; still less did they resemble the detritus of the big cities unleashed by the Forty-nine Gold Rush.
The farming area around the Missouri and the Missisippi was a fairly fertile one, so at first glance it seems strange that whole families should choose to leave it and trek 2,000 miles or so through danger and hardship, hunger and thirst, extremes of heat and cold. Some, no doubt, were motivated by the pioneering spirit which was so powerful at the time, and by the hope of a quasi-Biblical Promised Land. Others were simply driven by economic survival, rather like the contemporary Irish immigrants escaping from famine and disease back home. The Near and Mid-West were experiencing a severe slump, in which prices for farming produce sank to sometimes derisive levels while the farmers themselves sank steadily into debt.
In any case, as Frank McLynn points out, the American farmer did not have the close, almost incestuous relationship with the land which the European peasant generally did. He often settled in a likely-looking spot, built his cabin and tilled his acres, until he felt he had got the best out of that particular location and that it was time to move on to something new, or possibly better. And old, settled Europe was a very different matter from a great and largely unknown continent stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Much of this was virtually unexplored territory, and accounts of it varied from scary stories of deserts and predatory Indians, to glowing depictions of a fertile, unspoilt Eden.
There were also, inevitably, strong political interests involved. The United States was in an expansionist mood, particularly at the expense of the despised Mexicans, from whom it eventually went on to annex the huge area of the South-West. Steady white-American infiltration into California, still a very thinly populated area, would eventually ensure a majority sufficiently powerful to bring it into the United States. These territorial ambitions extended to the far North-West, to which England had some nominal claim - the borders between the US and Canada were not then what they are today. The same method of infiltrating hard-working American citizens into the area would open the way to its eventual absorption into the Union. To encourage immigration West, then, was a policy preached by many enthusiastic prophets, whether self-interested or patriotically high-minded.
From Missouri the trekkers mostly headed along the swampy, shallow Platte River, through what are now Nebraska and Wyoming, until they met the formidable barrier of the Rockies. Crossing these (if and when they could, that is) they travelled on to the trading and semi-military outpost called Fort Hall.
Here was the parting of the ways; those aiming for California roughly followed the Humboldt River until it sank into the Nevada desert (the "Humboldt Sink" ) and fought their way over or through the Sierra Nevada to Sutter's Fort, near modern San Francisco. The Oregon Trail went north-west along the Snake River, crossed the dangerous Columbia River and the Cascade Range, and then the travellers came to their journey's end. In both cases, the rivers were the main guides, while the Pacific Coast marked the limit of expansion.
Timing was very important, since to be caught in mountain gorges by the winter snows could mean extinction. But equally, there were stretches of desert to be crossed, where lack of water threatened both men and animals - particularly animals, since humans can go for two days at least without it whereas cattle and horses cannot.
Trees had to be felled, dangerous rivers crossed, mountains surmounted. Fevers and other diseases took their toll, children were crushed under wagons, foolhardy males often shot themselves with their own guns. Many of the wealthier emigrants brought cattle and sheep with them, and guarding these at night was a demanding task, with wolves, coyotes and bears to cope with as well as thieving Indians.
In general, however, the Indians did not prove to be as hostile or dangerous as expected - the savage Comanches were an exception - though it was often necessary to placate them with some form of tribute for crossing through their lands. Many of them, in fact, were peacable and glad to trade hides, furs, food and fodder for the white man's products - including clothes. A number even showed real restraint in the face of the more boorish and aggressive element among the emigrants, and the way in which some white hunters wantonly slaughtered the buffalo, the Indians' main source of meat.
Predictably, there were case histories of great courage and resource, mixed with other cases of selfishness and laziness, quarrelsomeness, or sheer stupidity. Solidarity and good leadership were all-important for survival, yet there were almost always whole convoys of waggoners who obstinately headed off from the main body in the hope of finding shorter routes, and generally paid the penalty. The guides were variable in quality, though the advice of seasoned trappers and "mountain men" was usually sound.
Among the good angels were the missionary Marcus Whitman and his New England wife Narcissa, who were not only inspirers but practical helpers, and generous with their hospitality. Both of them, however, were brutally murdered - along with two orphan boys they had adopted - by vengeful Indians who believed that the smallpox and other diseases brought by the white man were the deliberate result of "bad medicine", i.e. black magic.
A very different saga was written in 1848 by the Mormons, under Brigham Young, on their long, terribly taxing overland haul to Utah, after being virtually harried out of their original settlement at Nauvoo, on the Mississippi. Their polygamy and self-sufficient isolation had enraged American opinion, they were variously accused of violence and coining false money, and certainly they seem to have had shady or even criminal characters among them.
Nevertheless, their Biblical trek to (relative) freedom and independence was a heroic achievement, with the Mormon women in particular - so often depicted as deluded household slaves - showing great courage and resource.
Young himself, while not an amiable character, was not only a born leader but a remarkable organiser, who set up halting places and facilities along the route for the thousands who followed him in relays. An iron disciplinarian, he ran his camps with strict morality and law enforcement, tolerating no loafers or rebels. Later, too, Young showed considerable acumen in turning Salt Lake City into a flourishing community which sometimes exploited the "Gentiles" passing through. His achievement forms a fitting postlude in a generally fascinating book.
Brian Fallon's most recent book is Nancy Wynne-Jones - At Eighty, has just been published by Gandon editions