“They had advanced another two hundred yards beyond the boulder field when it started. From Captain Fetterman’s position atop his horse, he was the first to understand. He heard the war cries and scattered rifle shots and his eye perceived the sensation of movement everywhere, as if the barren land was erupting. Of all the thoughts that flooded over him, two resonated most clearly. Most immediately, it was the sheer numbers that shocked him. Fetterman had been in enough fights to have a good feel for estimating the strength of his foes’ forces. In his time on the prairie, he had never seen an Indian gathering of more than a hundred warriors. This force reminded Fetterman of the great battles of the Civil War, when the Rebels threw thousands of soldiers into battle…Even as this first shock sunk in, Captain Fetterman became aware of something else, something ultimately more terrifying… Hundreds of mounted warriors already were racing to cut them off from the south – from behind…”
- Michael Punke, Ridgeline
Michael Punke’s Ridgeline is a book that should have worked for me. I was expecting it to work for me. It is a novelization of the 1866 Fetterman Fight, in which a detachment of eighty United States soldiers were lured into an ambush by a pan-Indian coalition of Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho warriors. Though this is somewhat an obscure topic – the battle being far less than a world-historical event – it just happens to be one that I am fascinated in, and one I love to discuss (this being one of the many reasons people don’t invite me to parties).
Often when I buy a book it ends up languishing on my shelf. This was one that I tore into right away.
As far as Old West tales go, Punke chose a good one. The Fetterman Fight pitted a disorganized, over-extended, and arrogant military on the one side, against a resolute coalition of tribes – some former enemies – coming together for a single purpose on the other. The setting is Fort Phil Kearny, a military outpost on the far edge of the frontier, located in present-day Wyoming. Within this fort is a group of bickering officers – most veterans of the Civil War – who cannot decide among themselves the best way to deal with a very new enemy. Instead of coming together, they cleave into competing cliques like schoolboys, enacting their own version of an episode of Degrassi High. Meanwhile, outside their walls, resistance is coalescing around Indian leaders such as Red Cloud and Crazy Horse, resulting in new tactics and techniques.
All this culminates in a brief, bloody battle on a naked ridge, shortly before Christmas.
Having such high hopes and expectations, it came as quite a shock when I realized that Ridgeline was not very good. Indeed, though it gives me no pleasure to say it, I thought it came perilously close to simply being bad. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate it – there is nothing offensive about it – but that’s about as positive as I can get.
Admittedly, this is a subject to which I am close. This is an odd flex, but I know just about everything concerning the Fetterman Fight. I’ve visited the battlefield on at least four occasions, read all the secondary sources, pored over the maps, and have studied the primary sources (both Indian and white), including the testimony from the congressional inquiry.
Knowing so much about the history, I made a conscious effort not to be overly sensitive to Punke’s dramatic changes. Honestly, though, I was rather pleased with his presentation. Much of Ridgeline is thoughtfully revisionist, especially with regard to the character of Captain William Judd Fetterman, the commander of the unlucky men who found themselves in the maw of an ingenious trap.
The standard – and mostly fabricated – wisdom about the battle is that Fetterman was a boastful idiot who proclaimed that he could “ride through the whole Sioux nation” with only eighty men. Generations of western historians have therefore enjoyed Fetterman’s comeuppance, served with a side of irony, since Fetterman led exactly that number of men on December 21, 1866. The reality, though, is that Fetterman was a decorated Union officer with an impeccable service record who never – at least according to contemporary sources – uttered any such boasts. Punke’s Fetterman is presented as the competent, tactically sound officer that the evidence says he was.
Though I had some minor issues history-wise, most of Punke’s alterations are defensible. For instance, he elides some real-life characters for the sake of simplicity, while he has to construct the Indian preparations for the battle whole cloth, as there is no documentation as to who devised the ultimately-successful plan. Overall, the nonfiction aspects of this fictionalized story are well done.
The real problems with Ridgeline are entirely literary.
This begins with the characters, who are all flat, one-dimensional mouthpieces. The soldiers – Fetterman, Lieutenant Grummond, Captain Ten Eyck, and Colonel Henry Carrington – exist only to spout jargon and exposition. Each is given one character trait, and one character trait only (this might be a function of Punke’s compositing of real-life persons, meaning that everyone featured here is twice as extreme as in ordinary life). Fetterman is indecisive, Grummond is a relentlessly aggressive bully, Ten Eyck is just a dude who wants to chill and swill whiskey, and Carrington is hopelessly out-of-his-depth (not even his uniform fits). None of them are fit to lead a cheer at a football game, yet Punke wants us to believe that this collection of blunderers and psychopaths somehow rose to positions of grave responsibility. To be sure, the officers of Fort Phil Kearny were not the nation’s finest, having a tendency towards alcoholism, undeserved snobbery, and martial self-regard. Still, their failings were far more nuanced than Punke’s broad caricatures allow.
(Grummond, for example, spends the entire book spouting nonsense about “thieves” and “savages” while paraphrasing Alexander the Great. The real life Grummond certainly seems like an ass, but I doubt that any person – especially a sociopath who was living a double life, with two different wives – could be so mono-focused and repetitive and still expect others to take him seriously).
The Indian characters are not drawn much better. Punke clearly went out of his way to present the Indians sympathetically and sensitively, which is well-intentioned. He tries so hard, however, that he is almost condescending. Crazy Horse, for example, does not have a single thought – or say a single word – that doesn’t involve the white people encroaching into the Powder River Country. Undoubtedly, Crazy Horse had these concerns. Yet I am confident in saying that he had other thoughts as well. Instead of humanizing Crazy Horse, he is transformed into a gloomy prophet uttering portents of doom. Not flesh-and-blood but a symbol, as lifelike as his half-finished monument in South Dakota.
All these characters – white and Indian – are forced into a glacially-paced arc, marking time as Punke deliberately, even pedantically (every chapter is datelined), moves us toward the fateful battle. This clash – taking up nearly a third of the entire length of the book – is solidly executed, leaving aside the fact that I did not care about anyone involved in it. But getting there is tough. Most chapters center on groups of men, either soldiers or Indians, debating the same issues over and over. Even when Punke cuts away from this particular thread, things don’t get much better. There is, for instance, a conversation between Jim Bridger and James Beckwourth in which the two famed frontiersmen ponder the existence of God. I wish I was kidding, but I’m not, and the scene borders on the embarrassing.
Ideally, historical fiction gives you both good history and good fiction. Most of the time, you have to settle for one out of the two. With Ridgeline, though, the decent history is not nearly enough to overcome the lazy characterizations, leaden dialogue, forced emotional beats, and sluggish forward momentum. When you know what it going to happen at the end, the journey to the destination takes on the utmost importance. Unfortunately, the journey in Ridgeline is not worth taking.