Sample Student Research Project, spring 2006
LITR
4232: American Renaissance
Sample Student Research Project, spring 2006
Joseph Myers
18 April 2006
The Last of the Mohicans and the Indomitable Power of the Frontier
With its quintessential portraits of the pristine American landscape, notable individualist Hawkeye, and the pairing of noble savages Uncas and Chingachgook against the devilish Magua, one is easily lost in the forest of romance and myth within James Fenimore Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans. Moreover, the romance of the wilderness often causes one to overlook important themes in Cooper’s work. It is remiss not to mention “Hawkeye” as the “personification of rugged individualism and pioneer spirit central to. . .American identity” (Mohicans). It is also careless not to mention the numerous critics who mention the piece as a “[purported] novel of the American Indians” (Mohicans).
Still, themes based on “rugged individualism” and “American Indians” find their origins in a much larger, overarching theme—the power of the frontier. Within The Last of the Mohicans, the wilderness is, of course, the setting of the novel; however, on a deeper level it is much more. The frontier is the driving force—the engine—behind the action of novel. Further, it is the driving force bringing about change in the emerging society of eighteenth-century America and begins threatening its established social mores. Still, what gives the frontier its power and what changes does it affect? The frontier gains its power from forced adaptability; in turn, effecting change by ostracizing those who remold themselves to the “topography” of the wilderness; by being no respecter of gender in its demands for survival and confusing “transplanted” notions of chivalry, and becoming the ultimate liberator—with respect to women—through exposure to captivity by Native Americans.
The power of the frontier lies in its ability to change all those who encounter it—forcing them to adapt to its ways in order to survive. This surely played havoc with those attempting to “conquer” the early American frontier encountering its indigenous inhabitants—the Indians. For as much as they tried to bring civilization to the frontier, and the Indians, they found themselves having becoming more like these “savages” in order to survive. In his book The Frontier in American History, Frederick Jackson Turner states:
The wilderness masters the colonist. . . It strips off the garments of civilization and arrays him in the hunting shirt and the moccasin. It puts him in the log cabin of the Cherokee and Iroquois and runs an Indian palisade around him. Before long he has gone to planting Indian corn and plowing with a sharp stick, he shouts the war cry and takes the scalp in orthodox Indian fashion. In short, at the frontier the environment is at first too strong for the man. He must accept the conditions which it furnishes, or perish, and so he fits himself into the Indian clearings and follows the Indian trails. (Turner)
Making note, it is those who “accept the conditions which it furnishes or perish” (Turner). Although Turner refers to perishing in the physical sense, one can easily imagine his statement as a commentary on the emerging American Society at large and the death of the society that will not adapt to its environment. In the context of the American wilderness, the ultimate expression of this adaptability is the Native American. His beautifully adaptive culture is synergistic with the “furnishings” of the frontier.
Nevertheless, Indians are still thought of as savages, and adopting their ways makes one a cultural outsider. One needs look no further for an example than the character of Hawkeye. Although he is “genuine white” (Cooper 31), he has fully adopted the ways of his Indian counterparts—complete with “the hunting shirt and the moccasin” (Turner)—and, in effect, succumbed to the transformational power of the frontier (31). In addition, he is plain-spoken, comfortable in the natural surroundings of the forest, and, with stoic matter-of-factness, does what is needed to survive. This is easily seen in Chapter 5 when Hawkeye decides Gamut’s colt must be killed to mislead the Indians following them—He simply says, “That colt, at least, must die” (Cooper 47). Further, the narrator, calls the act “apparent cruelty, but of real necessity” (Cooper 47).
Still, Hawkeye is a man and is expected to survive one way or another—such is his nature. On the other hand women are, as Nina Baym states in her article “The Women of Cooper’s Leatherstocking Tales”, “ signs and objects in society. . .rather than the bricks of it” (Baym 698). But, the transforming power of the frontier is no respecter of persons and, certainly, no respecter of gender. It effects men and women equally—with, for eighteenth-century society—quite scary results. As played out in The Last of the Mohicans, the more traditional Alice—weepy, prone to fainting, and so eligible for marriage—is readily accepted in the male-dominated society. On the other hand, the more adaptive—read: Indian-like—Cora is less readily accepted by society. While allusions are made to this being due to her race—Heyward is accused by Munro of “being born at the south, where these unfortunate beings are considered of a race inferior to your own” (Cooper 159)—it still seems to stem more from her adaptive, male-like survival skills making her better suited to frontier life. She, like Hawkeye, is plain-spoken and ready to do what is necessary to survive the perils of the wilderness. In this contrast between Cora and Alice we observe the power of the frontier beginning to upset the traditional roles of women in emerging American society.
Also in this contrast between Alice and Cora, the frontier’s power to change is felt directly through its impact on chivalry. In his article “Irresolute Ravishers and the Sexual Economy of Chivalry in the Romance Novel”, Gary Dyer offers an excellent definition of chivalry that would have been transplanted from Europe to the emerging society present on the American frontier:
[Specifically], a standard for behavior, often professed to originate in the codes of medieval knighthood, that requires self-abrogation and self-sacrifice from a privileged man in defense of the powerless and disadvantaged, who are typically, even characteristically, women. (Dyer 341)
This traditional notion is exhibited in Duncan who still clings to his European notions of knighthood and chivalry—throughout the novel seeming to battle against the transformational power of the wilderness. In fact, Duncan dreams, in Chapter 13 “that he [is] a knight of ancient chivalry, holding his midnight vigils before the tent of a recaptured princess, whose favour he [does] not despair of gaining, by such a proof of devotion and watchfulness” (Cooper 129). However, in the self-reliant world of the frontier, a woman like Cora does not, necessarily, need a chivalrous male—a “Duncan”—to protect her. Contrast Alice who needs constant attention—because she is unable to adapt to the rough, harsh world of the wilderness. Signe O. Wegener points to this disparity between Alice and Cora in her book James Fenimore Cooper versus the Cult of Domesticity: Progressive Themes of Femininity and Family in the Novels, stating “At one point, [Alice] clings to the young officer’s arm ‘with the dependence of an infant’; Cora, in the same scene, finds [Duncan] ‘can be of no further service’ to them (80)” (154). She (Cora) can, quite possibly, survive by her wits alone and by sheer force of will. In other words, the chivalric system of old is endangered by the power of the frontier to affect women wherein their fundamental natures are transformed by the overwhelming call to adapt or perish. Therefore, it follows that Cora becomes a threat to the established social system and a “pioneer” redefining women’s roles in emerging American society.
Still, the ultimate disturbance to women’s roles in early American society—posed by the frontier—is yet to come. There is still a means to further expose women to the absolute, raw power of the wilderness. How is this accomplished? They are living in the wilderness—or colonies established therein—and experiencing the hardships of life on the frontier. How can they experience the transforming power of the wilderness in a more direct fashion? Through the experience of captivity by Native Americans. Both in the novel and in real-life, no where is social tradition more threatened than when a woman is directly exposed to the pure energy of the wilderness—manifested in its agents—the Indians. Ironically, through their captivity women are presented with the most frightening (in social terms) and wonderful gift of all—liberation. Through real life examples and instances from The Last of the Mohicans it is possible to see the upsetting situation captivity presents for women’s roles in emerging American society. In her account of the ordeal she endured, Mary Rowlandson, in her story “Narrative of the Captivity of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson”, recounts grisly sites of violence and horror with remarkable aplomb. She notes that “As we went along I saw an English-man stript naked, and lying dead upon the ground, but knew not who it was. Then we came to another Indian Town, where we stayed all night” (Rowlandson 149). In another part of her tale, she relates the story of a person stripped naked, with a massive head wound, yet still crawling on the ground—with the same “matter-of-fact tone” as she remembers the “English-man” (Rowlandson 120, 149). Meanwhile, in Cora’s captivity, note that “no apprehension on her own account could prevent the noble-minded maiden from keeping her eyes fastened on the pale and anxious features of the trembling Alice” (Cooper 295). Cora shows her greatest resolve when she refuses to march any farther with Magua. She not only exhibits strength, but the ultimate state of wily abandon and pioneer ingenuity—she knows Magua must make a difficult choice—he desperately wants her but he must fight against his savage nature that seeks to destroy her. The key in this scene is that she speaks in a “confiding” voice—a voice of trust:
“I will go no further”, cried Cora, stopping unexpectedly on a ledge of rocks, that overhung a deep precipice, at no great distance from the summit of the mountain. “Kill me if thou wilt, detestable Huron, I will go no farther!”. . .
“Woman,” he said, “choose the wigwam or the knife of le subtil!”
Cora regarded him not; but dropping on her knees, she raised her eyes and stretched her arms towards Heaven, saying in a meek and yet confiding voice—
“I am thine! Do with me as thou seest best!” (Cooper 336,337)
In these examples it is clear that both of these women had to live by their wits, and exhibit great strength, in order to survive—like the men of the frontier—or more like a twenty-first century, liberated woman. This is precisely what was considered a “danger” to the early Americans. David T. Haberly, in his article “Women and Indians: The Last of the Mohicans and the Captivity Tradition” states that this was an “additional danger. . .await[ing] female captives”—this danger entailed females “[falling] into patterns of behavior suitable only for males” (434). Further, “bravery, quickness of action, [plus] mental and physical independence. . .were totally at odds with the ideal of the sentimental heroine” (Haberly 434). Haberly goes on to insinuate that these “Indianized female captives” raised doubts about the value of white civilization (436). Through captivity women were thrust into the heart of the frontier and, in turn, saturated in its overwhelming power—forever changed and liberated from their confined roles in traditional society.
Although Cooper’s work is rich in varied theme and motif, presented in sweeping vistas of American myth and forests of romance, The Last of the Mohicans is a testament to the power of the frontier. Despite the Indian wielding his tomahawk and the settler wielding his musket; despite “La Longue Carabine” and his deadly accuracy with “Killdeer”; in spite of the valiant efforts to save Alice and Cora, all dwindle in comparison to the matchless power of the frontier. All lived on the frontier, yet the frontier changed how they lived; although they adapted to the terrain, they found themselves made outsiders. Though the frontier made the genders equal through the demands of survival, it disrupted the established notions of chivalry. And though the frontier subjected women to the harshness of captivity, it was only to transform them in its raw power to truly set them free.
Works Cited
Baym, Nina. “The Women of Cooper’s Leatherstocking Tales.” American Quarterly 23 (1971): 696-709.
Cooper, James Fenimore. The Last of the Mohicans. New York: Penguin, 1986.
Dyer, Gary. “Irresolute Ravishers and the Sexual Economy of Chivalry in the Romantic Novel.” Nineteenth-Century Literature 55 (2000): 340-368.
Haberly, David T. “Women and Indians: The Last of the Mohicans and the Captivity Tradition.” American Quarterly 28 (1976): 431-444.
“The Last of the Mohicans.” Wikipedia. 14 April 2006. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Last_of_the_Mohicans>.
Rowlandson, Mary. “Narrative of the Captivity of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson.” Ed. C.H. Lincoln. New York: Barnes & Noble, 1959.
Turner, Frederick Jackson. The Frontier in American History. New York: Henry Holt, 1921. 12 Apr. 2006 <http://xroads.virginia.edu/~HYPER/TURNER/>.
Wegener, Signe O. James Fenimore Cooper versus the Cult of Domesticity: Progressive Themes of Femininity and Family in the Novels. Jefferson: McFarland, 2005.
