Chapter 5:
"Warning Sign" Preservation
THE AMBIGUITY OF THE ANTIQUITIES ACT made it useful
as a catchall preservationist law. The initial proliferation of national
monuments showed the need had existed for a law that could permanently
protect a wide range of places that government agencies and private
citizens deemed worthy of preservation. The Antiquities Act became a
weapon in the presidential arsenal, as well as a means that individual
citizens could use to protect historic, scientific, and natural
features. As a result, the Act became the authority for governance of
the broadest range of areas ever established by any government. The
twenty-eight offerings accepted between 24 September 1906 and 6 July
1911 included many types of areas that the framers of the Act had not
considered.
In nearly every case, the proclamation of a national
monument provided no supervision. Special agents of the GLO posted
warning signs at each monument, but these signs offered the only form of
protection for most early monuments. The establishment of an area as a
national monument failed to deter vandals, who were oblivious to warning
signs, although it did prevent law-abiding private citizens and
companies from exploiting some unique features of the American landscape
for commercial gain.
The cases of Chaco Canyon, Muir Woods, and the Grand
Canyon showed that in some respect, the Antiquities Act was a success.
But most monument proclamations failed to address pressing problems.
Because Forest Service or GLO representatives visited most reserved
areas only once or twice a year, the monuments were often targets of
callous vandalism. Visitors in search of souvenirs destroyed sections of
the Petrified Forest, and despite the efforts of government officials,
archaeological vandalism persisted. After putting up a warning sign at
the El Morro National Monument during his annual trip in 1911, GLO
mining inspector Charles B. Barker noted: "The appearances indicate that
unless more adequate protection and patrol can be given, the
inscriptions on this rock will likely suffer." [1] El Morro and its peers were defenseless under
the provisions of the Antiquities Act.
The problem was not just malicious vandalism. Without
formal protection for monuments, people did not realize that their
behavior was inappropriate. The lack of evidence of care, wrote GLO
inspector Leslie Gillett in 1916, made it "doubtful whether visiting
tourists, especially those who do not visit [El Morro] with the idea of
its being a national monument in mind, are acquainted with the fact that
the site has been withdrawn." [2] In the vast
expanse of the West, the idea of a small reserved tract seemed
incongruous. With only a sign to indicate the significance of each
monument, people did not sense the special status of reserved
areas.
Because of the lack of clarity of the monument
designation and the remote location of most the reserved areas, the
early monuments were victimized. The pothunting that had preceded the
Antiquities Act remained endemic at archaeological sites, and the influx
of people to the Southwest after 1900 increased the potential for
scavenging, digging, and callous misuse. Unauthorized hunting and
grazing affected the flora and fauna of many natural areas. Natural
decay of historic and prehistoric features was another problem at many
monuments.
Neither the GLO, the Forest Service, nor the War
Department had the infrastructure to administer national monuments, and
the lack of an organized system compounded problems. The three
departments lacked budgets and specific personnel for these areas, nor
did they have any clear sense of a reason for the existence of the
national monuments. GLO special agents and Forest Service rangers
visited monuments and made reports, but little action resulted from
these efforts. The only link between the national monuments was the
warnings signs posted by official representatives.
The lack of ascribed purpose for the national
monuments as a whole posed an even deeper problem. The almost random
creation of new monuments offered local and national special-interest
groups such as the Sierra Club opportunity to implement their individual
agendas. Because these groups saw the monuments from a range of
perspectives, conflicts over the utilization of new monuments
accelerated.
The archaeologists and anthropologists who had led
the battle for the Antiquities Act were the most influential group to
maintain interest in the monuments. They believed that they understood
the purpose of the Antiquities Act and sought to use its provisions to
encourage excavation. Scientists had advocated legislation for almost a
decade prior to 1906, and they learned how to operate within the system
that they had helped to establish. After passage of the Act, scientific
and educational institutions both public and private began to exploit
the crucible they had fought to protect. Many received permits, and they
began excavations at many of the archaeological national monuments. The
number of permits created dismay among GLO personnel, who worried about
the motives of many privately sponsored excavators.
At that time, an unwieldly mix of people educated in
Europe and the self-trained dominated American archaeology. Most trained
specialists concentrated their research in southern Europe and the
Middle East, and although they were sympathetic to the pursuit of
archaeology in the American Southwest, they generally left the actual
work to the self-trained. The GLO feared that unscrupulous excavators
would use their permits to collect artifacts for private collections.
From the perspective of GLO officials, this prospect meant the
appropriation of public treasures for individual gain, an idea at odds
with the social philosophy of the era.
While efforts were under way to establish an
equitable and manageable set of rules governing excavations, federal
officials and academic archaeologists tried to impose their own
standards on fieldwork. GLO employees raced to find and reserve
archaeological sites before scientists arrived and began to dig. In one
case, William B. Douglass, the examiner of surveys for the GLO, visited
extensive Anasazi ruins in northern Arizona. He found undisturbed remote
ruins and advocated the establishment of the Navajo National Monument.
On 3 March 1909 he informed the commissioner of the GLO that withdrawal
of the land "embracing the Bubbling Springs group of ruins," about forty
miles from the Arizona-Utah state line in northeastern Arizona, was
imperative. Douglass's message revealed his motive; he had heard that a
"pseudo-scientific expedition . . . principally concerned in securing a
priceless archaeological collection" planned to invade the area that
summer. "It will probably be the last opportunity to explore important
ruins that have not been marred and robbed by the pottery hunter," he
concluded. [3] The solution he suggested
typified his era; government regulation rather than professional
consensus was the means to ensure proper excavation of the ruins.
Douglass objected to private individuals, even those
with archaeological credentials, acting as if they owned the public
domain. Undisturbed ruins held important information about the
prehistoric past, and he insisted that the government regard more than
the land and the structures upon it as valuable property. He wanted a
record of "every article that comes from them, with accurate data as to
its exact location in the building and the conditions under which it was
found." [4] If archaeological science was to
make new contributions, Douglass believed, it had to do more than
uncover objects with which to fill museums.
To protect the new discovery, Douglass enlisted John
and Louisa Wade Wetherill, who owned a trading post at Oljato, on the
Utah side of the Arizona-Utah border, to be responsible for the ruin.
Although John Wetherill was Richard Wetherill's brother, he had avoided
the rancor that surrounded his brother's dealings with the Department of
the Interior. He and his wife lived at Oljato the entire year and made
their living by trading with the Navajos. Wetherill was a dependable man
and very knowledgeable about the region. Louisa Wade Wetherill had
earned the respect of Indians in the area and was an important conduit
for information. A Navajo Indian told her of the ruins, and she alerted
Douglass. Confident that he had done all he could for the moment,
Douglass sent a description of the lands to be reserved to the
commissioner of the GLO. On 20 March 1909 President Taft signed the
proclamation establishing the Navajo National Monument. [5]
The Navajo National Monument situation seemed a
repeat of the episode between the government and Richard Wetherill at
Chaco Canyon, but in a reversal of roles, the scientists who had argued
so vehemently in favor of the Antiquities Act became adversaries of the
federal agencies responsible for the administration of the ruins.
Archaeologists lobbied for federal sanctions against unbridled
exploitation of the sites, but seemed astonished when men like Douglass
tried to apply the same rules to them. They believed that they were
acting credibly and resented the need to prove their reliability. Edgar
L. Hewett, who in 1907 became the director of the School of American
Archaeology in Santa Fe, and Byron Cummings of the archaeology
department at the University of Arizona, headed the group to which
Douglass objected. In Douglass's view, southwestern scientists intended
to become officially sanctioned pothunters, collecting relics to reap
professional spoils.
The solution entailed determining which experts had
the public interest in mind. Douglass accused the people who had
maneuvered Richard Wetherill out of the picture of similar exploitive
motives. He believed that the planned excavations were "detrimental to
science" and recommended that the Department of the Interior deny all
further requests for excavating permits in northern Arizona until
scientists from the Smithsonian Institution had an opportunity to do
preliminary work. [6] Smithsonian scientists
were federal employees with established reputations, and Douglass
believed that they behaved more responsibly than other archaeologists.
Their discoveries also became government property.
In Douglass's far-sighted view, legalized pothunting
was as detrimental as random digging for artifacts. If those with an
academic affiliation were allowed to excavate wherever they chose, the
archaeological sites they worked would be no more significant than those
dug by amateurs. In eastern museum cases, treated as art objects only
and lacking contextual information, the discovered relics would cease to
be useful tools to reconstruct the past, and instead would merely be
curiosities.
Alerted to Douglass's fears, the Department of the
Interior closely watched Navajo National Monument. But in 1909 Hewett
had immense influence, and the department routinely granted his requests
for excavating permits. Earlier that year, he requested a permit to dig
at the new Navajo National Monument. Departmental officials in
Washington were not opposed to granting the request. Yet some officials
at the GLO worried about the situation. S. V. Proudfit, the acting
commissioner of the GLO, asked John Wetherill to keep him informed
throughout the summer of 1909. On 24 August 1909 Wetherill wrote that
"there is no one excavating on the Navajo National Monument except Prof.
Cummings and party," which held Hewett's permit. [7] Douglass did not know that the permit had
been granted, and he became furious when he discovered that the
proclamation of the monument had not deterred Hewett and his
friends.
John Wetherill's interpretation of the situation
differed from Douglass's. Cummings and Hewett were colleagues of the
experts who had harassed his brother. But although John Wetherill may
have harbored resentment about the way the Department of the Interior
had treated his brother, he clearly saw that the government had the
legal power to control access to American prehistory. John Wetherill
perceived the Cummings excavation as legitimate because it held the
Hewett permit. But Douglass did not care about credentials. Motives
interested him, and Douglass distrusted Hewett. In his opinion, the
Hewett Cummings party was out for personal aggrandizement, not for the
advancement of knowledge; Douglass wanted to stop them.
Thanks to Douglass's diligence, the label "pothunter"
came to include academic relic hunters who took advantage of their
professional status to make collections for museums all over the
country. With the help of William Henry Holmes, John Wesley Powell's
successor as the director of the Bureau of Ethnology, Douglass was able
to stop the Cummings excavation. Holmes ordered Cummings to cease except
when Hewett was present. In the summer of 1909, Hewett was involved in
projects other than Navajo and John Wetherill dogged Cummings's party.
The excavators soon gave up.
In their place, the Smithsonian Institution sent its
scientific representatives. Holmes selected two experienced and eminent
Americanists, Dr. J. Walter Fewkes and Dr. Walter Hough, both of his
bureau, to excavate at Navajo. Douglass went along on the expedition,
and in 1910 Fewkes and Hough completed their survey, filing Bureau of
Ethnology Bulletin No. 50, A Preliminary Report on a Visit to the
Navajo National Monument. The report, complete with an extensive
pictorial record, conformed to Douglass's expectations of proper
conduct for archaeologists. [8] In Douglass's
view, the Cummings party, concentrating upon artifacts and the training
of students, would have paid less attention to the public interest.
The substitution of federal excavators for
professional and academically affiliated ones strengthened the
institutionalization of archaeology. This evolution began when Stephen
J. Holsinger handed Richard Wetherill and Frederic Hyde the cessation
order at the Chaco Canyon in 1902, and between 1902 and 1909
institutional affiliation became credential enough to authorize
excavation. But a decade later, when it appeared that scientists were
using excavation permits for personal aggrandizement, the GLO censured
them.
Douglass presented Hewett in the same light that
Hewett had once cast Richard Wetherill. In his view, former protectors
of archaeological sites like Hewett had slipped into the patterns that
had characterized the late nineteenth-century in the Southwest.
Credentials and institutional affiliation were no longer sufficient for
Douglass and his peers in the West. Because Hewett's and Cummings's
allegiances to their furthering their reputations might outweigh their
commitments to the principles of their discipline, they had to be
watched. The government had an obligation to manage the sites, and the
Smithsonian Institution and the Bureau of Ethnology sent government
ethnologists to work in the monuments. The weight of government
authority now supported the scientists efforts.
Unlike Hewett, the careers of federal ethnologists
were already established. J. Walter Fewkes had excavated in the
Southwest during the 1890s, and Walter Hough had played an important
role in the Columbian Exposition of 1893. In 1902 William Henry Holmes
had succeeded John Wesley Powell as head of the Bureau of Ethnology. At
the top of their profession, such men already had the respect of their
peers.
Archaeological protection became a question of
philosophy and guardianship. As long as making a collection offered an
avenue to enhanced professional status, remote archaeological sites like
the Navajo National Monument were vulnerable to pillage by
professionals. In many cases, it took so long for an unauthorized dig to
come to light that an astute entrepreneur could, depending upon his
inclination, parlay his find into a financial or professional windfall.
The situation encouraged archaeologists to behave irresponsibly, even
overturning walls in search of pots and burial locations. In their
haste, some did not even take field notes. Often a site excavated by
these professional pothunters lost much of its potential value to
archaeological science. Douglass believed that the advancement of the
discipline, not solely the collection of artifacts for museums, was the
greatest good, and that if random collection continued, the purpose of
the Antiquities Act would be defeated, ironically, by the groups that
had supported its passage. Whether Edgar L. Hewett or Richard Wetherill
compiled them, irresponsibly made museum collections decreased the value
of an archaeological site and threatened the credibility of the
discipline.
The battle between archaeologists and federal
administrators continued throughout the 1910s, but archaeological
national monuments were not the only places in danger of depredation.
Although Douglass focused upon a small group of the areas created under
the auspices of the Antiquities Act and addressed problems relevant only
to the administration of archaeological sites, the protection of natural
and historic areas was also necessary. The diversity of the national
monuments category made uniform administration impossible. Without
budgets or personnel responsible for care on a full-time basis, the
national monuments remained an unorganized collection of interesting
places that grew in number every year.
In the Department of the Interior, efforts to
administer the monuments gradually began. Frank Bond, the chief clerk of
the GLO, assumed responsibility for the national monuments under its
care and also evaluated monument proposals. Bond drafted proclamations
for the establishment of various monuments and in general assumed
responsibility for determining whether a proposed area would become a
national monument. [9] Even the Forest
Service solicited his opinion on its monument proposals. Although he
rejected numerous requests that he thought were inappropriate, Bond
wrote all of the twenty-eight proclamations establishing national
monuments between 1906 and 1911.
But the conditions at many national monuments were so
poor that after recommending the establishment of the Devils Postpile
National Monument, a basaltic column formation, in July 1911, Bond
passed favorably on only two more monument proposals in the following
four years. [10] Battles over the philosophy
of excavation, the haphazard process of monument establishment, and the
pervasive absence of funds for monuments' maintenance all bothered Bond.
Because he believed that the monuments were deteriorating, he completely
reversed the policy of the GLO.
By 1911, five years after the passage of the
Antiquities Act, protecting the monuments from wanton or inadvertent
vandalism was a frustrating proposition. There were twenty-eight
national monuments, and none of the three responsible departments had
yet developed a formal administrative process to ensure their upkeep.
The Forest Service regarded national monuments as a " makeshift," and at
the Department of the Interior, only Bond and W. B. Acker, an attorney,
took an interest in the monuments. The War Department had even less
interest in its monuments. The three departments communicated little
about common problems.
Conceived and executed in haste, the Antiquities Act
left unanswered important questions on the issue of preservation. A
system of paper entities existed; a proclamation affirmed the existence
of places like the Shoshone Cavern National Monument in Wyoming, but it
was possible to visit this monument, and many others monuments, without
realizing that they were places under federal protection. For Frank
Bond, proclaiming national monuments ceased to be an end in itself. The
monuments needed more than protection on paper.
During the Roosevelt administration, the national
parks had begun to attract more attention, and this interest carried
over into Taft's presidency. Vocal advocates like Horace McFarland, the
president of the American Civic Association, lobbied Congress and worked
to enlighten the public. The Department of the Interior also responded,
although slowly. In September 1911 Secretary of the Interior Walter L.
Fisher convened the first National Parks Conference at Yellowstone
National Park, at which government officials and concerned citizens
argued for the creation of a federal bureau to administer parks and
monuments. In the middle of the whirl of enthusiastic presentations,
Frank Bond stepped to the podium to speak about the national
monuments.
Bond's presentation revealed the problems he faced
trying to manage areas on the periphery of the preservation movement.
Tripartite jurisdiction created confusion in monument administration. To
illustrate how management problems cut across departmental lines, Bond
divided the monuments into two categories: the scientific and the
historic. He noted that different departments managed monuments in both
categories, and places as similar as the Gila Cliff Dwellings and Chaco
Canyon, both prehistoric ruins, were under separate jurisdictions. In
his view, duplicate administration limited the chances for comprehensive
planning.
Bond correctly perceived that increased settlement in
the Southwest and West was endangering the monuments, and the
lackadaisical attitude of his department did not help. "It is only a
question of time," he told the conference, "when [the national
monuments] will be secretly attacked and pillaged piecemeal, until there
is nothing left to preserve. . . . [They are] a responsibility which we
now feel but can not make effective." [11]
The realities of administration infuriated Bond; he could arrange for
the proclamation of any number of national monuments, but he could not
protect them in any way.
Bond tried a strategy that he hoped would arouse the
audience of conservationists and government officials. Although many in
his audience were leaders in shaping contemporary America, Bond realized
that the government had not yet made a firm commitment to the monuments.
As an alternative to the current chaos, he proposed privatization,
turning monuments in danger of being spoiled to private owners, where
"they would soon be made available at a price, which would be much
better than not available at all." However "unpatriotic . . . the
abandonment of any one of them would be," Bond suggested that private
ownership and development offered the monuments a better future than
benign neglect. [12] Privatization was
Bond's ploy to attract attention to the plight of the monuments. As
members of the reform generation, Progressive-era government officials
eyed the motives of the business community with suspicion, and Bond
played to these instincts. Private ownership of public treasures was the
solution his audience dreaded.
Bond's oratory might have moved Theodore Roosevelt to
initiate an immediate program of reform, but for his trouble, Bond
received no substantive response from Secretary of the Interior Fisher,
and it was on to the next speech in a seemingly endless succession. The
lack of response, even to Bond's calculated attempt to rouse the
passions of progressive-minded conservationists, confirmed his sense
that, in 1911, the national monuments had little importance. The
solution of his era was the creation of a watchful bureaucracy that
would do no more than occasionally lament the continuous decay of the
national monuments. Ironically, at a conference filled with
pro-national park rhetoric and addressed by such luminaries as Sen.
Reed Smoot of Utah, Rep. Scott Ferris of Oklahoma, chairman of the House
Public Lands Committee, and William Kent, the donor of Muir Woods, the
precarious position of the national monuments was not of interest.
Although Bond declared the parks and monuments "as alike as two peas in
a pod," it appeared that national park advocates felt otherwise. [13]
National monument status was a mixed blessing for the
areas so proclaimed. Proclamation of a monument meant recognition of the
value of a place, but little more. It reserved a place from private
appropriation, but did not protect it from lawbreakers. In fact,
monument status negated any chance of receiving direct administration.
Established in law and ignored in practice, in 1911 the national
monuments were in danger. Unless federal interest became stronger, the
monuments would remain little more than places to post warning
signs.
The national monuments began to acquire an identity
of their ownalbeit a somewhat confusing onebased more on
what they were not than on what they were. They clearly were not
like the national parks. The central features of most monuments were
natural, archaeological, or historical, but many areas seemed barely to
fit even this vague definition. The process by which the monuments were
selected required the implementation of some type of standards. The
category had become a repository for places of interest that were not
considered eligible for national park status.
The long series of proclamations beginning with
Devils Tower followed by the sudden dearth of proclamations after July
1911 reflected Bond's anxiety over the condition of the national
monuments. He was no longer sure that establishing a new monument was
any service to the place or to the nation. Increasingly frustrated, Bond
referred fewer and fewer proclamations to his superiors. Only in rare
cases did he believe that monument status was necessary for the
proposals that crossed his desk. With this rationale in mind, Bond
checked the growth of this amorphous system, preferring to wait and see
whether Congress might establish a unit of the federal government to
administer the parks and monuments.
Bond was not the only one responsible for developing
new national monuments. Influential private citizens and elected
officials could exert their will, and the two monuments proclaimed
during the following four and one-half years resulted from such
instigation. In 1913 the Order of Panama, which sought to commemorate
Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo, the Spanish discoverer of California, pressed
for the establishment of the Cabrillo National Monument on Point Loma,
near San Diego. Upkeep and maintenance was not an obstacle; a lighthouse
less than one acre in size and adjacent to Fort Rosecrans, a military
installation, constituted the entire monument. There seemed to be little
chance of vandalism because of the constant military presence. After
Bond favorably reviewed the Cabrillo National Monument proposal, in
October 1913 Woodrow Wilson established the new monument.
In the case of the second proclamation Congressman
Carl Hayden of Arizona desired a desert flora national park in the new
state, and his efforts resulted in the establishment of Papago Saguaro
National Monument in 1914. At Bond's request, GLO commissioner Fred
Dennett tried to convince Hayden that "topographic conditions seem to
offer nothing but scenery and . . . [the Antiquities Act] does not
provide for the reservation of public land for the protection of
scenery," but Hayden persisted. [14] He had
watched as Theodore Roosevelt used the monument category to fulfill
arbitrary conservation objectives and was not to be denied. Using his
influence as a member of the House Public Lands Committee, Hayden's
efforts resulted in the creation of another monument authorized for its
scientific importance that had largely scenic and recreational
value.
Throughout this period, the movement to establish a
branch of the Department of the Interior to administer parks and
monuments gradually gained momentum. In 1910 Secretary of the Interior
Richard Ballinger advocated the idea, and two years later President Taft
gave it presidential sanction. [15] Franklin
K. Lane, Woodrow Wilson's secretary of the interior, and public-spirited
organizations such as Horace McFarland's American Civic Association
continued to press Congress for some kind of national parks bureau. In
1913 Lane appointed Adolph C. Miller as his special assistant in charge
of national parks; he was the first, and at that time the only person in
Washington, D.C., with full-time responsibility for national parks. When
Woodrow Wilson drafted Miller for the Federal Reserve Board, Lane named
Stephen T. Mather, a graduate of the University of California who had
made a fortune in the borax industry, to replace him.
Mather came to Washington, D.C., to improve the
parks, and to assist in this process, Lane assigned to him a graduate of
the University of California, Horace M. Albright. Mather was an
energetic dynamo with finely tuned promotional instincts and a network
of influential contacts; the young Albright was persuasive, charming,
astute, and underneath a polished veneer, hard as nails. Throughout 1915
the two men worked at laying the basis for a federal agency to manage
the national parks and monuments, and by the end of the year, the
prospects for a bureau of national parks and monuments looked very good.
[16]
Once establishment of a parks bureau seemed imminent,
Bond became less restrictive about establishing new monuments. On 4
October 1915 Woodrow Wilson established Dinosaur National Monument, and
preceding the passage of the National Park Service Act on 25 August
1916, national monuments were established at Walnut Canyon, Sieur de
Monts, Bandelier, and Capulin Mountain. The new monuments represented
the usual diverse array of archaeological, scenic-scientific, and
historical entities (see table 1).
After the establishment of the new bureau, Bond saw
that the role of the GLO in administering federal park areas would
decrease. The rash of proclamations in late 1915 and early 1916 were
evidence of the GLO's abdication of this responsibility. As long as Bond
believed that he was responsible for maintaining monuments, for which he
knew that he did not have the money or personnel, he kept a close check
upon the creation of new monuments. Once he understood that a new agency
would assume responsibility, he released the tight hold. The GLO system
of preservation by warning signs had simply been a stopgap measure until
a formal system of administration was established.
GLO officials looked expectantly toward a future in
which they anticipated that a system of administration, and possibly
even funding for monument upkeep, would be developed. Bond ended the
self-imposed four-year ban on establishing new monuments hopeful that
the chaos which had surrounded the first decade of the implementation of
the Antiquities Act was over. Unfortunately, the kind of organization he
envisioned for the administration of the monuments remained far in the
future.
Table 1. The National Monuments in 1916
|
Site Name | State | Date Proclaimed | Size (in acres) |
|
1. Department of the Interior (NPS): |
Devils Tower | Wyoming | 24 Sept. 1906 | 1,152 |
Montezuma Castle | Arizona | 8 Dec. 1906 | 160 |
El Morro | New Mexico | 8 Dec. 1906 | 240 |
Petrified Forest | Arizona | 8 Dec. 1906 | 25,625 |
Chaco Canyon | New Mexico | 11 Mar. 1907 | 21,509 |
Muir Woods | California | 9 Jan. 1908 | 426 |
Pinnacles | California | 16 Jan. 1908 | 2,980 |
Natural Bridges | Utah | 16 Apr. 1908 | 2,740 |
Lewis and Clark Cavern | Montana | 11 May 1908 | 160 |
Mukuntuweap | Utah | 31 July 1909 | 15,200 |
Tumacacori | Arizona | 15 Sept. 1908 | 10 |
Navajo | Arizona | 20 Mar. 1909 | 360 |
Shoshone Cavern | Wyoming | 21 Sept. 1909 | 210 |
Gran Quivira | New Mexico | 1 Nov. 1909 | 560 |
Sitka | Alaska | 23 Mar. 1910 | 57 |
Rainbow Bridge | Utah | 30 May 1910 | 160 |
Colorado | Colorado | 24 May 1911 | 13,883 |
Papago Saguaro | Arizona | 31 Jan. 1914 | 1,940 |
Dinosaur | Utah | 4 Oct. 1915 | 80 |
Sieur de Monts | Maine | 8 July 1916 | 5,000 |
Capulin Mountain | New Mexico | 9 Aug. 1916 | 681 |
2. Department of Agriculture (USFS): |
Cinder Cone | California | 6 May 1907 | 5,120 |
Lassen Peak | California | 6 May 1907 | 1,820 |
Gila Cliff Dwellings | New Mexico | 16 Nov. 1907 | 160 |
Tonto | Arizona | 19 Dec. 1907 | 640 |
Grand Canyon | Arizona | 11 Jan. 1908 | 806,400 |
Jewel Cave | South Dakota | 7 Feb. 1908 | 1,280 |
Wheeler | Colorado | 7 Dec. 1908 | 300 |
Mount Olympus | Washington | 2 Mar. 1909 | 633,300 |
Oregon Caves | Oregon | 12 July 1909 | 480 |
Devils Postpile | California | 6 July 1911 | 800 |
Walnut Canyon | Arizona | 30 Nov. 1915 | 960 |
Bandelier | New Mexico | 11 Feb. 1916 | 22,075 |
3. U.S. Department of War |
Big Hole Battlefield | Montana | 23 June 1910 | 5 |
Cabrillo | California | 14 Oct. 1913 | 0.5 |
|
|