These days, I'm sometimes unsure if my intense interests are just personality quirks or lean towards the pathological. Occasionally, a topic, an item, or an activity gets stuck in my head like a song. I find myself obsessing over it until I take some action that scratches the itch. This tendency often leads me down deep research rabbit holes, sometimes hitting dead ends or resulting in failed projects. Other times, I realize I don’t actually need a new hobby or skill set right now. But occasionally, these obsessions result in some of my favorite historical reproductions or recipes.
Recently, one such interest led me to images of brass (and what appears to be copper) and silver crosses dating to the 18th century, found at the sites Fort St. Joseph Michigan. I've seen reproductions of these cross forms before, but I don't personally own any. While my search has been somewhat limited, I haven't yet found analogous forms specifically from the Northeast, although my personal collection of photos featuring trade-related artifacts from research and museum visits is fairly extensive.
Historically, these crosses served practical purposes in trade and gift-giving, particularly for missionary priests seeking to help new converts display their religious allegiance and subtly signal the faith to others. Distributing small gifts like crosses, rosaries, and other devotional tools is a practice the Catholic Church still employs today. Though not Catholic myself, I sometimes collect similar items as souvenirs to commemorate visits to historic Catholic institutions. There's perhaps a psychological element at play; receiving a gift, even a small, inexpensive one, seems to solidify the memory of an experience.
Beyond missionary efforts, these crosses could also have been sold or traded among European-descended populations, such as French soldiers and local Canadiens. Crosses held significance for both Indigenous and Franco-Canadian faithful as devotional tools and visible social signifiers of faith – important ways for people in that era to build social capital and community standing.
Artifact photos courtesy of the Fort Ouiatenon Facebook page
While I've encountered photos of these crosses periodically, finding images with a clear scale proved difficult. Most appear to be relatively small, generally under an inch in length and width, though variations exist. To my eye, they look like they were cut from sheet silver, brass, or possibly copper using saws, and then refined with files. At least one cross from Fort Oniention Illinois might have been punched or cut from brass, possibly using chisels and hammers, or perhaps even sturdy scissors or snips – similar to how I suspect the accompanying "Thunderbird" form pendant was created, shown on the cover of "A Pictorial History of fur Trade Goods Mid 1600’s to Early 1800’s in the Mackinac Straights Area" by Robert Bennett.
The book cover "Thunderbird", a similarly possible devotional item to Indigenous religion. (I use the word thunderbird in quotations because this designation for various bird motifs is possibly incorrect and may be too wide of a generalization from commentators on the subject.)
Crucifixes from the period, conversely, seem typically to have been cast from silver, brass, bronze, or lead, then refined and polished with files and other tools.
It's conceivable these simpler crosses were also cast, perhaps very thinly, and then polished, much like the crucifixes. However, I haven't found definitive scholarly research or detailed speculation outlining their exact creation method, nor have I yet contacted artisans who currently reproduce these items to learn about their techniques.
Cutting such intricate, wavy shapes from sheet metal with snips or chisels seems challenging. Although I'm by no means an experienced metalworker, my own attempts to cut or punch such a pattern from sheet metal proved difficult, causing warping and crimping. I used relatively thin sheet metal (under 20 gauge), which might have contributed, but I suspect thicker metal would present similar difficulties without specialized tools or techniques.
Feeling rather daunted by the complexity of the more ornate examples, a particularly small, simpler cross documented from Oniention caught my eye. Its relatively angular form seemed more achievable, despite its tiny size. Thankfully, I located an image showing it next to a ruler for scale.
Feeling rather daunted by the complexity of the more ornate examples, a particularly small, simpler cross documented from Oniention caught my eye. Its relatively angular form seemed more achievable, despite its tiny size. Thankfully, I located an image showing it next to a ruler for scale.
Unfortunately, the material of the original artifact is unclear, though brass, especially salvaged from cast-off kettles and utensils, was a common scrap material in New France.
By matching a physical ruler to the scaled image on my screen, I could trace its actual-size outline onto plastic wrap placed over my phone. I then transferred the outline to a piece of sheet brass by rubbing the ink side of the plastic wrap onto the metal. Not a period technique but it works. Using basic tin snips, I was able to cut out the rough shape and then refine it with simple files.
By matching a physical ruler to the scaled image on my screen, I could trace its actual-size outline onto plastic wrap placed over my phone. I then transferred the outline to a piece of sheet brass by rubbing the ink side of the plastic wrap onto the metal. Not a period technique but it works. Using basic tin snips, I was able to cut out the rough shape and then refine it with simple files.
The intended purpose or original state of this small, angular cross remains unknown, as the artifact fragment shows no apparent hole or other attachment method. It's possible the piece is incomplete, perhaps cut or broken. I surmise it might originally have had a suspension hole punched at the top, similar to the larger, wavier crosses and was broken or is an unfinished piece.
This is my theoretical representation of how the cross may have appeared if finished or whole if it was broken.
It's also possible this very small cross represents local Indigenous or Canadien craftsmanship. Since, as my experiment showed, its simpler form can be cut from sheet metal using basic tools like snips or chisels, the small size might suggest a careful conservation of material, hinting at local production rather than European mass manufacture specifically for the trade market.
My dive into these 18th-century crosses began as a personal quest to understand an object that caught my eye and ended with a small brass reproduction in my hand. While this hands-on experiment gave me a new appreciation for the potential skill involved, it also highlighted how much I don’t know about their precise manufacture and the stories behind specific examples, like the tiny, hole-less cross from Fort Ouiatenon. Was it a broken piece, a local creation, or something else entirely? These questions persist, but the process of investigation and replication has forged a tangible link to the past, transforming abstract curiosity into a deeper appreciation for these small, yet significant, artifacts of New France.
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