The Ojibwe Journals of Edmund F. Ely, 1833–1849 by Edmund Franklin Ely (review)

Edmund F. Ely (1809–82) was twenty-four years old when he traveled, as editor Theresa M. Schenk explains, "by rail, canal, stage, steamship, schooner, canoe, and even by foot" from Albany, New York, to the west end of Lake Superior (ix). There he would work as a missionary among the Ojibwe Indians until 1849. Earnest, hardworking, from a family of Protestants of various denominations, Ely had been inspired during a revival meeting to live among and teach native Americans.

Based in what is today eastern Minnesota and northwestern Wisconsin, he was active and in motion frequently. Hiring Indian guides whom he sometimes described as voyageurs, he regularly visited and taught in lumber and maple-sugar camps, traveling on snowshoes through the forest and by canoe over rivers, lakes, and rapids. Ely dealt with the regular gumming that was essential to keep the canoes watertight; he carried his share of the load as needed during countless portages. He wrote while in camp, often describing the view from where he sat and the activities of those around him.

In these and other ways, his descriptions of his movements about the wider region show the reader much of what a voyageur contended with on a daily basis, from sleeping on fir boughs to barely making it to shore in a heavy wind, to building a fire and cooking whatever was at hand. He even managed to describe an attack by enemies of the Ojibwe as it was occurring: "While I now write, the noise of battle rages without. Our settlement is attacked by a large party of Sioux. Nearly two hours since the terrible scene commenced" (350). He goes on to narrate, dispassionately and in detail, scenes of brutality that included the decapitating of children. This was carried out, as Schenk clarifies, as customary retaliation for earlier killings by the Ojibwe side. Ely sees from his window "a Sioux step up to a post about fifteen feet in front of the door, and taking deliberate aim, fire" (346). The modern reader, horrified and riveted, imagines how this moment must have looked, and how it must have felt. It is a sense of immediacy conveyed through first-person testimony, like oral history.

Because of their unpolished and extremely personal nature, Ely's journals and letters are in essential ways in the same territory as oral history. Had they been made widely available without much or any explanation, they would still have been of interest to historians knowledgeable in this period and general subject matter, but anyone who manages an oral history program or conducts interviews independently can see here a quintessential example of what is possible given the resources. In the hands of a skilled historian, a primary source becomes not only easier for fellow scholars to critique and enjoy, but also accessible and useful to a far wider audience.

Although not always possible, due to constraints of budget, time, and resources, such fleshing out and amplification deeply enrich readers' understanding and enjoyment. Oral history programs with the necessary funding and support have the capacity to produce print and online contributions of a far higher caliber. Schenk's editorial work exemplifies this through its thoughtful presentation of primary source material within its historical and cultural context. The historian's interpretation thereby exponentially increases the potential readership.

Schenk, professor of American Indian studies at the University of Wisconsin—Madison and author of, among other works, William W. Warren: The Life, Letters and Times of an Ojibwe Leader (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2007), brings to Ely's journals, letters, and sundry notes a deep knowledge of Ojibwe history and culture. As she explains, historian Grace Lee Nute recognized the value of Ely's journals and had them transcribed in 1923–25, but they had never been fully annotated before Schenk's intervention.

A few minor quibbles include photo credits worded "photo by the author," which...