The best history books bring long deceased historical figures back to life, instilling the same hopes, fears, and passions in the reader that the characters experienced themselves. Usually, these figures are known for their role in major events or for having a positive influence that radiates far beyond their physical lives. Historian Eric Rutkow illuminates one of these under-appreciated participants in the American history narrative, but Rutkow’s main character is not a person but rather an easily ignored plant: a tree! As Rutkow notes, “trees are the loudest silent figures in America’s complicated history.”
American Canopy begins with a highly engaging prologue about Prometheus, a tree that stood seemingly unchanged for over Nevada for over 5,000 years. The tragic yet redeeming story introduces Rutkow’s premise but differs in one important aspect. Most other trees in America were not frozen, passive observers as civilization expanded around them. As America evolved, its forests changed in tandem. In colonial times, trees were an obstacle to overcome, concealing Indians in the forest and blocking the plow as stumps. As industrialism proliferated in the 19th Century, wood became the “stalwart of American development”—and the conservation movement subsequently responded by curtailing the carelessness and waste that caused forest fires and ecosystem destruction. The automobile and highway building by the CCC made camping and outdoor recreation in national forests accessible to almost all Americans—and Aldo Leopold responded by spearheading a movement to preserve the remaining pristine wilderness.
Individual forests experienced dynamic changes, as uses were discovered for different species, imported diseases wiped out the American Chestnut and Elm, and deciduous trees filled in the white pine forests. Old growth forests were clear cut, converted to farmland, and then later restored into commercial tree plantations. Americans’ attitude toward trees changed as well. Within a short period of time, Americans went from cutting trees for firewood to planting trees for fruit and later for shade, drought prevention, and finally to counteract global warming. Rutkow shows that trees are as American as apple pie—or maybe as American as the hard apple cider that sustained countless homesteads in the colonial period.
The best aspect of this work is the way Rutkow brings in anecdotes from all sorts of American history themes and relates them to trees. It turns out that quite often trees are not just a side story, but a prominent contributor to more widely known events. For example, Englishman Richard Hakylut advocated colonial exploration in the late 1500s primarily as a means to acquire ship masts from New England pine trees to counteract supply shortages and keep pace with the Spanish Navy. It was also interesting to learn that a major reason why George Washington ceded power so easily after the Revolutionary War was that he longed to cultivate his tree collection at Mount Vernon. Virtually all aspects of American politics, society, and culture are somehow influenced by trees. Central Park was even envisioned partially as a way to refine the lower rungs of society in New York.
For those familiar with American history, especially environmental history, some of the book’s material (especially from the progressive era onward) will be a review. American Canopy is in the same vein as environmental history works such as Nature’s Metropolis, which first brought to light the intricate connections between Chicago and its hinterlands, including the Great Lakes logging industry. American Canopy is unique for bringing together themes from the entirety of American history and for using trees as the common denominator to connect different eras. As an overview of hundreds of years, some of the stories lack depth, and Rutkow spends very little space connecting the themes between the sometimes disparate sections. Prominent figures like Gifford Pinchot are described in detail, but other important minds get glossed over to an extent. Women were also noticeably absent, perhaps that is the case in the primary source material also (I can only remember Lady Bird Johnson being mentioned).
The most amazing facts are the sheer magnitude of uses for forest products and the statistics for the tremendous volume of wood that was extracted. A single English ship required an astonishing two thousand oak trees. Railroads were known as the “iron horse” but they were initially comprised almost entirely of wood—including the bridges, cars, fuel, ties, and even the rails themselves. Each species of tree had specific uses and Rutkow explains in detail why White Pine was preferred for ship masts, longleaf pines for turpentine, and Sitka spruce for WWI airplanes. The various descriptions (by Rutkow and his sources) make it especially sad to read about the American Elm, “the most magnificent vegetable in the temperate zone,” succumbing to disease. After finishing this book, one will almost certainly advocate for increased concern and protection for trees. American Canopy will definitely go down as one of the better history books of the year, but it falls short of the top tier of American history works.