The Four Deaths of Acorn Whistler: Telling Stories in Colonial America by Joshua Piker (review)

Hindsight tends to reveal a remarkably simple version of the past, particularly when viewed from a distance of several centuries. Looking back at North America in the mid-eighteenth century, we see the British versus the colonists, or the British versus the French, or the colonists versus the Native Americans, or, frequently, African Americans under their own sub-heading of “slaves.” History, however, is never that simple. History is messy and complex; people in the past, just like the present, had multiple motivations for their actions and interactions with others. Rarely do we find just two sides to a story.

The many facets of “a” story drive the discussion in The Four Deaths of Acorn Whistler. Joshua Piker deftly separates the overlapping layers of motivation, using the death of one Native American to examine the connections among British, French, colonial, and Native actors in the American Southeast. The book is a fascinating exposition of the complexities of life in colonial North America and the local, national, and international interests woven into the fabric of everyday life.

Piker begins his story with an attack by members of the Lower Creeks on a delegation of Cherokee who were on their way home from a meeting with South Carolina leaders in Charleston. This attack, on April 1, 1752, resulted in the deaths of (probably) five Cherokee and, ultimately, the execution of Acorn Whistler by a member of his own family in mid–August. These deaths, however, simply provide the context for examining the relationships among the various actors in North America and their trans-Atlantic connections.

The argument of the book is that each of these actors had many reasons for acquiescing in the execution of Acorn Whistler for an event to which he probably had little direct connection. Whistler’s death served the needs of James Glen, South Carolina’s governor, who needed to convince his superiors in Britain that he understood Native American relations and could control them, thus preserving his job. It served the needs of Malatchi, a Creek headman, who was trying to forge a larger Creek nation out of many local communities. It served the needs of Whistler’s village of Little Okfuskee, an insignificant town that needed to protect itself against larger rivals. It also served the needs of Thomas and Mary Bosomworth, an Anglican clergyman and his Creek and British wife, who used the events of the early 1750s to enhance their economic and social position in British and Creek worlds.

The stories told by these actors developed in concert with the others, and they changed as new developments occurred or as other stories were given credence. Acorn Whistler, unfortunately for him, was a bit player in these narratives. For all of the actors, his death furthered other social, political, or economic goals. This does not reflect well on the storytellers for modern sensibilities, but in this period, the lives of lower-status peoples were never important. If we are truthful, we will also recognize that we, too, look for scapegoats and are willing to tell ourselves stories to justify our actions or beliefs.

The book is divided into four sections focusing on imperial, national, local, and colonial issues. Each of these sections is divided into three parts—a brief introduction to the issues of the section; a chapter about the primary storyteller (i.e. South Carolina governor James Glen in the Imperial section; Malatchi, a Creek headman, in the National section; and so on); and then a chapter about the story told and the social and political ramification of that story. Although it sounds like a complex structure, it allows Piker to pull the various threads apart while keeping the larger narrative in mind.

The Four Deaths of Acorn Whistler is an excellent example of the genre of microhistory. Microhistory looks at small events or lesser-known (or unknown) people to illuminate larger historical issues...