Bandelier Administrative History

Between 1916 and 1932, the move to establish a national park on the Pajarito Plateau again gathered momentum. After the establishment of the Bandelier National Monument, Edgar L. Hewett became an obstacle to the project, but by the early 1920s, he and the National Park Service joined forces to offer the most comprehensive proposal to date. The Forest Service resisted the takeover, but the Park Service was in a commanding position. Chances for a Pajarito Plateau national park looked excellent. Internal resistance within the NPS, however, thwarted the agency, and instead of a large national park, the agency assumed responsibility for the administration of the Bandelier National Monument.

The initial proclamation of the monument was no guarantee that attempts to create a national park on the Pajarito Plateau were over. Assistant Secretary of the Interior Stephen T. Mather, who became the first director of the National Park Service, did not regard the monument proclamation as final. Nor did William B. Douglass and the Santa Fe Chamber of Commerce. Douglass publicly lambasted the Department of the Interior for its "deaf ear" and to work for the park, he founded the New Mexico National Parks Association. The Chamber of Commerce appointed another committee to work for passage of the bill. [1] It enlisted Senator Catron, and in December of 1915, he introduced another measure, S. 2542, to establish a national park on the Pajarito Plateau.

Although Catron believed that the new measure would receive the support the others lacked, S. 2542 had serious flaws. While the Department of the Interior deemed the previous bill unsuitable because of its compromises, the new one was sure to encounter resistance in New Mexico. It appeared to abrogate the rights of local constituencies.

Opposition to the new measure arose instantly. In December 1915, Douglass wrote a letter to the editor of the New Mexican that supported the bill, sight unseen. Harold Brook, by now firmly ensconced on the Pajarito Plateau, attacked Douglass' stand. "The settlers [of the region] contend," Brook wrote, "that the difference between the benefits gained by the judicious handling of the ruins, as they are, and the benefits gained by a park, would not justify, morally or commercially, the unfair unreasonable ruination of a great many homesteaders." [2] Forced to again consider substantial local opposition, Douglass, Hewett, and the rest of the Chamber of Commerce met in February 1916, to iron out their differences.

Four clauses in the bill created obstacles for either Hewett or Douglass. No one was satisfied with the way the bill approached the rights of Native Americans. There was no clause to allow grazing within the boundaries of the park. This was sure to enrage Harold Brook and the powerful New Mexico Stockmen's Association. The name of the park was again to be "Pajarito." Hewett was pleased with that choice but it bothered other members of the Chamber of Commerce. "Pajarito" was no easier to pronounce in 1916 than it was in 1900. Two other clauses worried Hewett. The bill prohibited taking original and duplicate specimens outside of New Mexico, and it severely limited excavation. This was a distinct threat to Hewett's power base. S. 2542 appeared to be as questionable as earlier efforts.

As a result, the group offered a compromise that changed its strategy but not its ultimate goal. Instead of a national park on the plateau, the men proposed four national monuments. Along with the existing Bandelier, they requested the Pajarito National Monument, which would be north of the Ramon Vigil Grant and included the northern bank of the Guaje river and its ruins. Puye and Shufinne would become the Santa Clara National Monument, while ruins in the Jemez Mountains were included in the Jemez National Monument. Despite the change in tactics, the objective remained the same. From the perspective of the committee, the "creation of the four national monuments on the Pajarito Plateau will hasten the creation of the Pajarito National Park." [3]

But the fragile coalition dissolved. Hewett and Douglass could not stay on the same side of any issue for long. Although they both favored a national park, they had different ideas about its purpose. Douglass and the Chamber of Commerce wanted Santa Fe to develop as an important tourist center. In their view, the surface ruins in the region were a major attraction for visitors. Hewett was interested in what lay below the ground. He worried that the park would curtail his fieldwork. In April, 1916, published an attack on S. 2542 in El Palacio, the Journal of the Museum of New Mexico. He contended that the bill had little support in New Mexico and that it severely restricted the advancement of archeological science. The establishment of a national park offered little economic advantage, he asserted, and even the name suggested for the park, "Cliff Cities," was misleading. Differing perspectives upon the purpose of the park created divisions among those who supported the principle of a national park on the Pajarito Plateau. [4]

After reading Hewett's account of the shortcomings of the new measure, Douglass responded aggressively in the New Mexican. He contended that Hewett was misleading the public. While many influential people did not support S. 2542, nearly everyone supported the idea of a national park on the Pajarito Plateau. Douglass quoted letters from Bond & Nohl, a major livestock enterprise, revealing that the ranching community supported the project so long as the Department of the Interior permitted grazing within the park. Douglass had notes from the Governor of New Mexico and various departmental officials that also supported the concept of the park. He pointed out that the park would make a sizable economic contribution to the region, for the many visitors would have to be fed and lodged in the north central New Mexico region. In addition to countering Hewett's objections, Douglass offered advantages of the proposal. He revealed that the new bill would compel excavators to leave the relics they discovered either in a museum run by the State of New Mexico or in a new museum at either the Puye or Frijoles site.

Despite all the challenges Douglass offered to Hewett's arguments, he knew that S. 2542 was a mistake. Because the bill forbid grazing on the plateau, Douglass asserted that the New Mexico National Parks Association, of which he was the secretary, requested its withdrawal. In its current state, the bill would cause the livestock industry to oppose it. Yet in light of Hewett's attack, Douglass had to defend the proposition. If he did not, Hewett's prestige might turn the public against the project as a whole.

His rebuttal attacked Hewett personally, charging that malice inspired Hewett's opposition. Douglass contended that Hewett wrote the disparaging article only because the Santa Fe Chamber of Commerce rejected his suggestion to call the park "Pajarito" instead of "Cliff Cities." [5] In Douglass' view, Hewett behaved in a manner unbecoming a man of influence, and his petulance was inappropriate in such an important situation.

Douglass' accusations were defendable. No stranger to controversy, Hewett once again placed his personal interests ahead of those of his neighbors. His article fragmented the coalition and led to public speculation that he had been working against the national park idea all along. Hewett's real objection to S. 2542 was the provision that prevented him from doing as he pleased with what he uncovered in the ruins on the Pajarito Plateau. His contention that no serious depredations occurred there in the preceding decade was essentially true. Because he controlled archeological investigation on the plateau through Judge A. J. Abbott, Hewett's friend who served as informal custodian of the monument from his summer home in Frijoles Canyon, and held simultaneous excavation permits for nearly every important ruin in the region, Hewett's permission was an essential prerequisite for all excavators. In 1916, Hewett ruled the Pajarito Plateau. The existing national monument allowed him to continue his reign; the park proposition might have ended it. Douglass believed that Hewett wrote the article to confuse the public in hopes of turning them against the idea of a national park in the Bandelier vicinity.

The citizens of New Mexico, however, continued to support the idea of a park. The New Mexico Federation of Women's Clubs offered its support in 1917, and the membership of the New Mexico National Park Association grew. The Department of the Interior took Douglass' advice and adversely reported upon S. 2542. The bill died at the end of the 64th session of Congress. But Douglass continued to make important inroads in support of the concept of a park.

The 65th session saw the introduction of three new bills proposing a Pajarito region national park. Both political parties wanted credit for the establishment of the park. Republican Catron introduced S. 8326 on March 1, while on April 16, 1917, Congressman William Walton followed with House Bill 3216. On Mat 11, Senator A. A. Jones, a Democrat and the former Assistant Secretary of the Interior, introduced his own measure, S. 2291.

Propositions for a national park in north central New Mexico inundated the fledgling National Park Service. Even the New Mexico State Legislature overwhelmingly supported the national park idea. With the support of both houses, Governor W. E. Lindsey drafted a memorial to the United States Congress that urged its creation. In early 1918, the typically enthusiastic Douglass took the memorial to Washington to agitate in favor of the project.

Douglass was an effective lobbyist, but there were many obstacles to success. On February 26, 1918, he met with Secretary of the Interior Franklin K. Lane and gave him the memorial. He also sent the memorial and the copies of Jones' proposal to the United States Forester and the Commissioner of Indian Affairs. On March 8, 1918, Douglass met with Mather's assistant, Horace M. Albright, and found him anxious to proceed. The project, however, became tangled in the Department of the Interior. Puye was a part of the proposal, and Charles Burke, the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, requested that the Park Service hold up its report to Congress. He wanted his superintendent in Santa Fe to evaluate the impact of the proposal on the Santa Clara Indians. Albright and Mather reluctantly agreed. The superintendent of the Santa Fe Indian School, Frederick Snyder opposed the project. Burke informally communicated this to Albright, who asked Burke to hold Snyder's report until he could investigate further. Until early 1919, the Bureau of Indian Affairs abided by Albright's request. But when Joseph Cotter of the NPS, apparently unaware of Albright's maneuvering, called Burke, the commissioner explained the delay and told Cotter that the Bureau of Indian Affairs had to oppose the inclusion of the pueblo in the park. [6]

When informed of the developments, Mather telegraphed Albright to tell him of the opposition of the Bureau of Indian Affairs. "Proposition now up to us," Mather telegraphed, "don't feel we should delay matter further by promising investigation." [7] Albright responded in a telegram the following day: "regardless of Indian Office believe we should favor Cliff Cities project to extent of delaying final report to Congress pending investigation Cliff Cities region as wonderful as Mesa Verde in many ways[.]" [8] The Park Service supported the bill, but because of Snyder's opposition, the Department of the Interior did not take the bill to Congress.

New bills bloomed during the spring of 1919, kindling the enthusiasm of the Park Service. Senator Jones offered S. 666, "Creating the National Park of the Cliff Cities" once again on May 23, 1919, and on July 1, he revived a bill approximating the offering of 1916 to which Hewett had objected so vehemently. With the new interest, the Park Service began to maneuver. Mather commissioned a new inspection of the region and selected Herbert W. Gleason, a Department of the Interior inspector who was also an old friend of his, to visit the Pajarito Plateau as part of a tour of other proposed park areas in the Southwest during the summer of 1919.

Gleason reached the region in early June and made his tour. He visited the Bandelier National Monument, its detached sections, Otowi and Tsankawi, as well as Navawi, Tschirege, and other ruins. He also met with Douglass at his camp in Ojo Caliente, with Mary Austin, a noted author, in Espanola, and with Santiago Naranjo, the Governor of the Santa Clara Pueblo.

The region impressed Gleason, and protection of the Pajarito Plateau became an imperative in his mind. He labelled himself a "violent advocate" of the park proposal. Gleason found himself "righteously indignant in Otowi Canyon . . . to find that 'a woman from Philadelphia' had been at work there, upheaving the mounds, making no effort to preserve the walls [of the ruin]." Hewett had sponsored Mrs. L. L. W. Wilson, a teacher from Philadelphia, and between 1915 and 1917, she and a crew excavated Otowi under a School of American Archeology permit. She took the artifacts she collected to the Commercial Museum of Philadelphia. Gleason was appalled at what her crew left behind. They had been "heaping up rubbish in the effort to secure pottery relics," he indignantly informed Mather. [9] Douglass convinced Gleason that the establishment of the park would stop this kind of work. [10]

Gleason cited stockmen as the major source of opposition to the project. In his view, the livestock industry was a more significant obstacle than the Forest Service, a mistake that revealed his superficial understanding of the situation. When he found that the public overwhelmingly supported the idea of a park, Hewett worked to ensure that the Forest Service opposed all proposals. Douglass convinced Gleason that Hewett's "opposition [concealed] is based on the fact he will be shorn of his present authority and prestige if the park is created." Gleason, moreover, failed to see Hewett's behind-the-scenes maneuvering.

Hewett had good reason to be afraid of the latest round of park proposals. While visiting the Santa Clara Pueblo, Gleason made an agreement with Santiago Naranjo that would have curtailed Hewett's privileges. Naranjo complained that "alleged archeologists" indiscriminately dug on the Santa Clara reservation and wanted "to be able to say to these would-be diggers just where they may dig and [where] they shall not dig." Based on Secretary of the Interior Franklin K. Lane's prior support of Indian rights, Gleason promised the governor that he and his successors would have the authority to prevent the excavation of ancient tribal burials and other sacred places. Despite close relations between Hewett and the Santa Claras, had the Park Service assumed responsible for the Puye ruins, Hewett's excavations could have been curbed at Naranjo's request.

The other apparent obstacle to creation of the park was the grazing issue. As always, Douglass contended that a stance of "no grazing" by the department meant no park. He made a "strong plea" for retaining the grazing clause in the proposed bill. Mary Austin told Gleason that she believed in "intelligent grazing," and Gleason remarked that he did not think grazing would be a problem as he "saw no cattle during all [his] journeys through the territory . . . [as] all the cattle grazing is done in the winter." Sheep grazing was even less of an obstacle. The only sheep in the region grazed the Ramon Vigil Grant. Will C. Barnes of the Forest Service further diminished the potential for grazing when he indicated that rangeland within the national forest could not support sheep. Gleason told Douglass to muster the park supporters and "frame a bill which would incorporate their ideas and then thrash out with Mr. Albright the question of grazing" on the Pajarito Plateau. [11] The following day, Douglass wrote Albright, imploring him to allow grazing permits within the new park. Douglass repeated his long-standing contention that the New Mexico Stockmen's Association controlled the political hierarchy in the state and without its support, the project was doomed. Albright believed Gleason's contention that grazing was not a threat to park values in the region. He told Douglass that the latest revision of the bill allowed livestock grazing. [12]

Albright's concurrence elated Douglass. He believed that only one source of opposition remained: Edgar L. Hewett. Hewett continued to resist the "Cliff Cities" name, preferring instead his own "Pajarito National Park." Douglass asserted that Hewett joined forces with the "Forest Service in its effort to defeat this legislation," and the Park Service had to find a way around such an important adversary. [13]

Again protecting his interests, Hewett was instrumental in creating the conflict between the Forest Service and the NPS that dominated the Pajarito Plateau throughout the 1920s. Almost from the day of the establishment of the National Park Service, the two agencies engaged in a spirited rivalry. The missions and constituencies of both were similar and the agencies often coveted the same parcels of land for their programs. Conflict was inevitable in situations like the one that existed on the Pajarito Plateau.

The Forest Service had also accommodated Hewett's requests for permission to excavate its lands. He had been the primary archeological client of the USFS since before the establishment of the Bandelier National Monument. Forest Service officials such as Will Barnes were his personal friends, and the district foresters and the supervisor of the Santa Fe National Forest, Don Johnston, had great respect for Hewett. He served as their unofficial advisor on archeological issues. By the early 1920s, his word on land matters carried great weight among foresters in the Southwest.

As a peripheral character in the drama, Gleason was not always aware of the conflicts that existed before his arrival in New Mexico. His assessments were too often based on surface analysis and the opinion of the last participant with whom he spoke. After speaking with Naranjo, he assumed that the Santa Clara Indians had no objection to the inclusion of their reservation in the national park. In fact, this issue would split the Pueblo badly. His focus upon the stockmen as the primary source of opposition was also off the mark. He did, however, correctly assess the issue in question. Commercial use of natural resources became the center of the dispute, but the adversaries of the Park Service were not the local stockmen. Instead, the NPS and the Forest Service battled over incommensurable land values. The Park Service contrasted its emphasis on archeological preservation and inspirational scenery with the timber and grazing policies of the USFS.

Gleason's indiscretion contributed to the decline in relations between the two agencies. While in New Mexico, he gave interviews about the proposal that "very much disturbed" United States Forester Henry Graves. "It is best to be careful and not commit yourself on propositions like this," were Mather's words of caution to his old friend. [14] But the damage was done. When Gleason, Douglass, and Mather met in Washington in October 1919, Forest Service officials in Washington were strenuously objecting to the project. They argued that the value of the commercial resources of the region outweighed the scientific value of preserving the ruins.

The Park Service tried a novel approach, compromising on the content of the park in order to avoid conflict with the USFS. Mather asked Douglass if he could create a park without taking in any national forest land. Douglass thought that it was possible but such a park would contain few important features. The group agreed that it would be best to get a national park no matter what the limitations and worry about extending it at a later date. Anxious for some kind of successful action, Douglass agreed to this new proposition and drew up a map and bill to present to Congress.

Such a rapid ad-hoc move created a completely new set of problems. The new proposal failed to address the preservation value of the plateau. Instead, the division of land among Federal agencies determined the boundaries of the park proposition. Someone had a claim on nearly everything on the plateau. Between national forest land, private grants, and Indian reservations, there was little left from which to create a national park. As a result, Douglass' new proposal was "confined almost wholly to the Santa Clara Indian reservation." [15] It was small, insignificant, and inferior to every other national park established during Mather's tenure.

The new proposal was unworthy of the national park designation. It had few supporters. Even Gleason thought it was specious. Mather had worked to exclude such atrocities from the system. Yet this latest proposal, drawn up at his request, did not even include the existing Bandelier National Monument, Otowi, Tsankawi, Navawi, or Tschirege. It contained few ruins, less scenery, and was minuscule in comparison to the other western national parks.

Instead, Gleason suggested a tactic that the NPS would come to favor: ask for a great deal more than could possibly be acquired and settle for more than was initially thought possible. From his perspective, Puye was the primary archeological attraction in the region, and the Park Service needed to begin there. It was more accessible than the road less Frijoles Canyon and received almost three times the annual visitation. As a result, Gleason believed that any national park established in the region must include the Puye ruins. A park with Puye as a central feature could become a foundation for the gradual acquisition of a significant park. Already reserved as a national monument, El Rito de Los Frijoles could become a later addition.

Even with Gleason's far-sighted suggestion, such a truncated proposition was of little interest to the Park Service. The Grand Canyon, Lafayette [Acadia], and Zion National Parks were the latest additions to the system, and Douglass' proposal was clearly inferior to the standards Mather and Albright insisted upon. Encompassing only 60,800 acres, instead of the 195,000 that Gleason suggested, the bill "practically eliminated all the features and ruins for which the national park was originally proposed to preserve." [16] It was barely worth the effort to research the status of the lands involved.

The latest proposal was an example of taking the pragmatic approach of the Park Service too far. Peripherally acquainted with the issue, Mather made his suggestion in order to expedite the process. Exasperated after years of failure, Douglass was willing to try almost anything. Only Gleason was able to keep perspective under the circumstances. Although he also would have acquiesced, he pointed out the larger picture. The Park Service upheld its commitment to quality park areas, and Mather's "park game" remained complicated.

The elevation of New Mexico Senator Albert Fall to the position of Secretary of the Interior made it no less so. An advocate of anything which made his personal estate grow, Fall earlier proposed an "All-Year Round" national park, to be created from a horseshoe of land surrounding his ranch in southeastern New Mexico. Although Fall's project had neither the scenic nor archeological importance of the Pajarito proposals, Mather could only tactfully resist his superior's alternative. As a result, after the Pajarito and Cliff Cities bills of 1919 died at the end of the session, Mather focused the little time he had for a national park in New Mexico to quietly thwarting Fall. [17]

In the meantime, enthusiasm for the park began to ebb. Senator Jones became "disgusted" with the entire project. With Hewett's assistance, he proposed the "Pajarita National Park" bill on July 1, 1919. Although Hewett called his offering "a radical revision . . . which will now make it acceptable to almost everyone," the bill completely banned grazing in the park. It revived all of the old livestock industry opposition. Understandably, Jones felt duped, and his interest in the project waned considerably. Hewett's opponents in Santa Fe called it an attempt to "muddy the waters" and stymie any future attempts to create a park in the region. [18] By early 1920, there were no bills to establish the park on the floor of Congress. Even Douglass was out of ideas. At the end of 1921, the project looked hopeless.

But times were changing, and Hewett needed new allies. By the end of World War I, roads and automobiles began to crisscross the Southwest. Travel became an American preoccupation. The promotional efforts of the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad brought many visitors to Santa Fe and the Southwest, and The Pajarito Plateau ceased to be remote. The archeological ruins on the Pajarito Plateau were still unreserved and more people visited them each year. The opportunities for depredation increased dramatically. Hewett realized this and began to look for new friends to aid his cause. Although he initially feared Park Service restrictions upon his work, Hewett soon came to admire the breadth of Mather's vision, and the agency became a likely candidate for his attention.

By early 1923, Hewett had created an alliance with the Park Service. The relationship began during 1921 and 1922, when Hewett and the agency developed a cooperative agreement for excavation and maintenance of the Gran Quivira (Salinas) National Monument. Gradually, Hewett realized that the Park Service could offer him better opportunities to excavate than did the Forest Service. He liked the Park Service people, particularly the self-trained superintendent of southwestern national monuments, Frank "Boss" Pinkley.

Short, thin, and stern, Pinkley was a straight-forward perfectionist and self-trained archeologist who respected Hewett's professional contributions and deferred to him in matters concerning archeology at Gran Quivira. Pinkley efficiently handled the administration of the project, making one less headache for the perennially over-extended Hewett. Pleased with the support, he came to respect Pinkley, seeing in the superintendent something of himself. The Gran Quivira excavation laid the basis for cooperation between Hewett and the NPS.

There was little animosity toward Hewett within the Park Service. Most of his opposition preceded Park Service efforts in the area, and the agency had no real evidence that Hewett opposed its interests in 1919. Douglass made Hewett into a villain in his correspondence with Park Service officials, but after a point, their interest in Douglass' personal feelings evaporated. Mather cultivated important people, and Hewett's powerbase was as broad as any in the Southwest. Soon, Hewett and Associate Director Arno B. Cammerer were involved in correspondence concerning the Pajarito Plateau. The Park Service was in the process of redefining its policy on the Pajarito Plateau and sought Hewett's perspective. [19] According to Cammerer, "neither the Department nor the Park Service has expressed itself on [the Pajarito] question;" the field was open. [20] Hewett quickly filled the void. By the middle of the summer, he worked up his own proposal, which he transmitted to Robert Sterling Yard, the Executive Secretary of the National Parks Association in Washington.

Hewett wanted the entire range of natural features and archeological ruins upon the plateau within the boundaries of his park. This included the Baca Location #1, now known as the Valles Caldera, west of the monument, the existing Bandelier National Monument, the Ramon Vigil Grant, and the Santa Clara reservation, including the Puye ruins. It was, Hewett insisted, "the greatest thing possible in the way of a national park project that is left in America . . . The southwest should not be handed a 'lame duck' among National Parks. What I have indicated is of National size." Hewett thought that acquiring the private lands, including the Baca and Ramon Vigil Grants, sections of the Canyon de San Diego grant, as well as the portion of the Santa Clara reservation which contained Puye, were the main obstacles. "You indicated, when we talked this over in Washington, that you would like a big job for the Association to tackle," Hewett reminded Yard. "Well, here it is." [21]

The astute Hewett asked that the Washington Office of the National Parks Association make the proposal. He wanted to avoid the outpouring of the animosity that his earlier maneuvering might generate in Santa Fe. Hewett offered his map, suggesting that Yard make a new tracing and send copies to newspapers throughout New Mexico. He assured Yard that all would enthusiastically support the proposition.

Ironically, had Hewett joined the initiative prior to 1919, there would most likely be a national park on the Pajarito Plateau today. With his support, the park project stood a much better chance of passage than without it. But by 1923, the terms of the conflict changed, and even his advocacy was not sufficient. In the 1910s, Hewett helped the USFS develop its response to the Park Service, and by 1923, the Forest Service regarded the NPS as a threat to its status as an agency. Foresters firmly opposed any project that took commercially valuable national forest land and reserved it within a "single- use" national park. [22] In northern New Mexico, Edgar L. Hewett was responsible for the perspective of the Forest Service. He drew the battle lines between the two agencies. One kind of opposition to the idea of a national park had disappeared. Another more potent kind emerged.

USFS opposition failed to prevent a reawakening of pro- park sentiment. Hewett was a powerful influence upon the press in New Mexico and as he predicted, the newspapers in the state endorsed his proposal. Preeminent in her support was Adela Holmquist of the Albuquerque Herald. Her article of July 15, 1923, supporting the creation of a Pajarito Plateau park, was reprinted in El Palacio on August 1, 1923. With her reprint enclosed, Holmquist wrote the President of the United States to further the cause. Secretary of the Interior Dr. Hubert Work responded, telling Holmquist that the department had no active legislation to put in front of Congress. Holmquist and the other advocates began to develop a bill. In April, 1924, New Mexico Congressman John Morrow went to Cammerer to discuss boundaries for the bill he planned to propose.

Public support was a welcome addition that led to concerted Park Service interest in the park project. Prior to 1923, the agency invested tremendous time and effort in park proposals on the Pajarito Plateau. With little to show for their efforts and other important projects afoot, agency officials were not inclined to send out another investigator to explore the ruins and report one more time. At the National Parks Association, Bob Yard enlisted the assistance of Dr. Willis T. Lee of the National Geographic Society. Yard wanted Lee to make a "reconnaissance" of the region. Lee had just finished work at the new Carlsbad Cave National Monument, the focus of another drive for transfer to national park status and was an advocate of the National Park System. Yard realized that he could provide the spark that the NPS needed. "A lot of good . . . could be done without in the least forcing Mr. Mather's hand," Yard wrote John Oliver La Gorce, the vice-president of the National Geographic Society. [23] Yard pointed out that there had been much resentment of the proposed "All-Year Round" National Park in northern New Mexico and that leaders in the northern half of the state supported the effort to topple Albert Fall two years earlier. Yard felt that the time had come to pay that debt by arranging for another examination of the area.

Although La Gorce specifically forbade involvement in the political side of the issue, he permitted Lee to go on a fact- finding tour of the Pajarito Plateau. Lee reported that the Hewett proposal was a good idea. Thus, while Morrow prepared his bill, Mather went to the Coordinating Committee on National Parks and Forests to propose the enlargement of a number of park areas and another national park for the Pajarito Plateau.

Again, the NPS pressured the Forest Service and the foresters resisted. Mather's proposal involved the transfer of 195,000 acres from the USFS to the NPS. Skeptical from the outset, the USFS reviewed Mather's proposal. On July 10, 1925, the Forest Service announced that in its view, the transfer was unjustified. The natural features were "admittedly . . . distinctive . . . but not of such grandeur or impressiveness as to meet the common construction of National Park standards." In the spirit of compromise, the Forest Service was willing to concede the existing Bandelier National Monument on the condition that the NPS place a full-time employee in Frijoles Canyon.

The Forest Service tried to protect its interests by becoming advocates of preservation of the area. The foresters took a dim view of Park Service development plans. They claimed to have the "requirements of the seriously-minded interested visitor in mind," and clearly stated that they would not encourage the building of an automobile road into Frijoles Canyon. [24] The Forest Service believed that Mather and Albright abandoned preservation during the 1920s in an effort to garner public support for the fledgling agency. It left a gap its officials hoped to fill.

With such a distinct difference of opinions in the two agencies, resolution in Washington, D. C., seemed unlikely, and the Coordinating Commission on National Parks and Forests planned an inspection tour for September 1925. Congressman Henry W. Temple of Pennsylvania, a known park advocate, headed the committee, which included Park and Forest Service representatives. Mather's schedule did not permit him to participate, and he chose as his substitute Jesse L. Nusbaum, formerly one of Hewett's assistants and the Superintendent of Mesa Verde National Park. Arthur Ringland, the district forester at the Grand Canyon National Monument during the Forest Service tenure there, was also a member of the committee.

The committee wanted to gauge local sentiment about the national park that Mather proposed for the Bandelier region. On September 17, Nusbaum found a sympathetic audience in Albuquerque, where all who came to the public meeting "desired a National Park or Monument area and were not hesitant about saying so." According to Nusbaum, the people of Albuquerque recognized the economic value of the proposed park, and their support kept the two Forest Service representatives from offering any substantive opposition to the proposal.

The hearing the following night in Santa Fe began similarly. Edgar L. Hewett chaired another public meeting that looked to express more pro-park sentiment. Hewett traced the history of prior efforts to create a park in the region and pointed out the shortcomings of each. Congressman Temple stood up to explain the purpose of his committee and make clear that he wanted to get a reading of local sentiment on the question. As Temple sat, the Forest Service representatives took their cue, and the efforts to stymie the establishment of a national park in north central New Mexico began in earnest.

In the months preceding the visit of the committee, A. J. Connell, a former Forest Service employee who ran the Los Alamos Ranch School, about twelve miles from Frijoles Canyon, "started a campaign of defamation of the Park Service and the National Park idea." According to Nusbaum, Connell threatened to close his school if a national park was created and "in the course of his talk [at a local gathering] and in subsequent talks, made public personal statements which any person knowing anything of the Park Service would know as absolute falsehoods." Among other mistruths, Connell convinced some area landholders that the Park Service would seize their land, ban private cars in the park, forbid local residents to collect even dead timber, and force visitors to pay "to ride in the shrieking yellow busses of the transportation monopolies." [25]

Nusbaum felt that Connell maliciously misstated the objectives and policies of the National Park Service in an attempt to thwart the creation of the park. In fact, the agency followed a policy that allowed any reasonable compromise furthering the procurement of land in a region under consideration for national park status. In 1917, the Department of the Interior briefly allowed grazing in Yosemite, and the precedent for allowing the collection of dead timber for private use was established at Mukuntuweap National Monument [later Zion] in 1914. [26] But Connell mustered strong and vocal resistance to the idea of a national park on the Pajarito Plateau.

Nusbaum found himself in a difficult situation. "The Forest Service had all the objectors to the plan lined up for the meeting," and because he chaired the meeting, Hewett felt compelled to remain neutral. Ambushed, the park advocates were leaderless and unorganized, and Nusbaum got little support. Barrington Moore, a former Forest Service employee and the editor of Ecology Magazine, and Assistant Forester Leon F. Kneipp mercilessly pounded Nusbaum with questions, while Ringland, who was responsible for the monument proclamation in 1916, was "apparently . . . bored to death [by talk of the region], and every remark he made belittled the area as a national park." [27]

The entire meeting proved uncomfortable for Nusbaum and the park constituency. Even with the support of Temple and New Mexico Congressman John Morrow, Nusbaum felt that the evening was a failure. He was ambushed because of his unpreparedness. As a result, the hearing weighed the question of a national park on the basis of innuendo and propaganda, not on its merits as an important piece of the archeological past of North America.

The Forest Service opposed the park because it did not believe that the preservation of archeological ruins required the reservation of large areas of timber and pasture land upon the plateau. Local residents, not tourists from afar, were its constituency, and its position dictated that the economic value of forest land was at least equal to the cultural value of archeological sites. From the local perspective, foresters contended, the timber and pasture lands were critical to the development of the region. If archeological ruins could be administered in conjunction with the commercial use of forest land, then a compromise was possible. A large national park, restricting the use of resources in the Santa Fe National Forest, was out of the question.

Although it was a despondent Nusbaum who continued with the committee to visit the ruins the following day, the damage to his cause was minimal. Despite the public battering he took, prospects for a national park in the northern half of New Mexico seemed excellent. Although the resistance of the Forest Service surprised Morrow, he and Temple remained strong proponents of the national park. [28] The Forest Service representatives knew that Temple's support of the proposal put them at a disadvantage. As the only congress person on the committee and the only member without a vested interest in the outcome, his opinion outweighed all the others.

Kneipp, Moore, and Ringland sought opportunities to make their case without NPS interference. Nusbaum complained that the foresters kept him away from Temple during the visit to the Pajarito Plateau. Taking Temple to lunch at Connell's Los Alamos Ranch School, the Forest Service men "wasted much valuable time" during the meal in what Nusbaum interpreted as an attempt to steer Temple away from the El Rito de Los Frijoles ruins. By the time the party arrived, it was nearly dark, and the Forest Service custodian showed the visitors the ruins in what Nusbaum called "a very superficial way."

Finally, the group ended up at the cottage where Temple stayed. In a long impassioned speech, Kneipp claimed that the Forest Service could do everything the Park Service could and more for less money. He questioned the need to sacrifice large areas of forest land to allow a national park big enough to fit the arbitrary standards that Mather and Albright established in other cases earlier in the 1920s. Nusbaum then reiterated the Park Service position, that the agency needed the large area to protect the ruins and physical features of the region. The time to deal with the question head on arrived. "Maps were laid down," and the process of orchestrating an acceptable agreement began.

The two sides had very different ideas about an acceptable size for the proposed national park. The Park Service envisioned a large area, including the existing monument, the Otowi ruins, the Puye ruins, and the Baca Crater. "The boundaries I laid," Nusbaum wrote Mather, "made the Forestry people gasp." The Forest Service counter offer reflected its perspective. It included only the existing monument, the Otowi ruins, and a corridor connecting the two. Nusbaum immediately rejected the proposal. It did not fit the image of the size and stature of a national park that the agency held. The Forest Service made another offer, which included much of the area east of the Los Alamos school and portions of the national forest between the Santa Clara Indian Reservation and the Ramon Vigil Grant, which bordered the existing monument. This compromise offered the NPS archeological control of the Pajarito Plateau, but Nusbaum turned it back in hopes of being able to get everything the agency wanted at a later date.

The bargaining continued until well after midnight, spurred by Temple's declaration that a national park was necessary to "preserve a tremendous outdoor Museum." Nusbaum, a lower ranking official than his Forest Service counterpart, suggested that they table any permanent agreement until a meeting when Mather could attend. He hoped that the NPS could parlay its advantage into success at a later date. But the Forest Service representatives, feeling that their advantage lay in the field, pressed hard for a settlement. Nusbaum refused, and Temple, tired after a long day and a longer evening, suggested that the delay might be a good idea, so that "others could be heard from." [29]

Unhappy at what it regarded as an acquisitive, one- dimensional land policy, the Forest Service was not prepared to relinquish its holdings to allow the Park Service to administer the ruins as a national park. Even under pressure from Temple and Morrow, the foresters refused to acquiesce. They were willing to cede archeological administration to the Park Service, but not at the expense of commercial use of resources and their own embryonic recreational programs.

The archeological and natural significance of the Bandelier area gave park advocates the ammunition they needed. In their view, the region contained an aggregation of values that made it worthy of national park status. Forest Service recalcitrance in the face of what the NPS regarded as obvious merit made it appear to the Park Service that the Forest Service was trying to do the work of both agencies. A Forest Service declaration in 1928 that added Bandelier to one of its wilderness preserves confirmed that sense. New Mexico Congressman John Morrow supported the NPS, stating that the Forest Service "(was) endeavoring to set up little national parks of their own." [30] The Park Service believed that the Forest Service did not belong in the recreation and tourist business; that was the province of the Park Service. The Forest Service had a multitude of interests in the region. In the view of the NPS, USFS personnel lacked the background and initiative to administer archeological sites for visitors. It appeared that the situation on the Pajarito could not be resolved to the satisfaction of both agencies.

The conflict with the Forest Service reduced itself to a comparison of incommensurable values. In 1925, the USFS offered Nusbaum the primary archeological features on national forest land. It was only a matter of time until the Park Service acquired Frijoles Canyon and the rest of the existing monument. The debate centered upon how much additional land the USFS would transfer to the NPS. Forest Service arguments were in its usual utilitarian vein. There was a quantitative economic value to the disputed timber lands in the Santa Fe National Forest. The Park Service held that a park containing ruins and natural features had cultural significance that outweighed the value of lumber and pasture land. Each agency felt its use and constituency should take priority, but there was no way to measure the comparative merits.

The pendulum slowly swung in favor of the Park Service. New Mexicans made the park a priority. Morrow was a long-time supporter of the various Pajarito Plateau proposals and state Government officials were also showing renewed interest. The Office of the Governor of New Mexico asked Edgar L. Hewett to provide a comprehensive report on the situation. With Hewett's continued support, the project stood an excellent chance of success. On December 8, 1925, he presented a preliminary report to Temple's committee that indicated that he still supported Nusbaum's conception of a park that "made the Forestry people gasp." His report to the Governor reaffirmed this stance, strongly emphasizing the need for more than archeological ruins to make a national park of the first order. [31] Hewett echoed the mainstream perspective of the agency, and his support made it likely to prevail.

Under the auspices of the Coordinating Committee, conciliation became the order of the day. But even with representatives of both agencies trying to work out an acceptable solution, there was little progress in 1926. Neither agency offered reasonable concessions. Early that year, Arthur Ringland, who served as the secretary for Temple's committee, became impatient with the lack of progress. He informed Hewett that the National Park Service was going to send a "Park Officer . . . to determine the feasibility of a National Park in the [Bandelier] region." [32]

There was only one man with the degree of knowledge and the level of responsibility this job demanded. Frank Pinkley's Park Service credentials were impeccable. No one questioned his devotion and loyalty. He had been an integral part of the Service's most difficult decade. On April 4, 1927, he wired his acceptance to Cammerer. After receiving the files concerning the monument and the range of park proposals, he embarked on an inspection tour that included most of the leading southwestern national monuments and the Pajarito Plateau.

Although Pinkley's autonomy and outspokenness occasionally made the hierarchy of the agency uneasy, the central administration of the Park Service had great confidence in him. They expected that as a good Park Service man, Pinkley would echo the departmental line on the proposed park; that he would report that a large park, containing more than archeological ruins, was essential. According to the standards Mather and Albright established, a national park on the Pajarito must be archaeologically significant, scenically spectacular, and comparable to the rest of the flagship category. Anything less than a park that took in everything of interest on the Pajarito Plateau, from Puye to Otowi to the Baca Location #1, was unacceptable. These rigid requirements limited the options of the agency. The Park Service could not compromise about size if it wanted to achieve park status, for it might end up with a national park parallel to insignificant places like Platt or Wind Cave. A national park on the Pajarito Plateau had to rival the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and Yosemite.

But Albright did not count upon Pinkley's commitment to the concept of the national monuments as a distinct category. "Boiled down," Pinkley wrote after his trip, "my report on the proposed Cliff Cities National Park is that the scenery is not of park status and ruins do not make a national park, not in any number, kind or quantity; they make a monument." He reiterated his long-standing contention that the ruins were inferior to those at the Chaco Canyon and the Mesa Verde and suggested that Bandelier was of more interest to scientists than the general public. "It would be a distinct anti-climax for the average visitor to come from the Mesa Verde to the proposed Cliff Cities National Park," Pinkley told Mather, and there was little in the way of exceptional scenery in the proposed area. Most of it could "be duplicated several times over" in the Southwest. Since the Frijoles ruins were already protected as a national monument, Pinkley thought it best that the Park Service assume administrative responsibility for the area. But in a heretical stance, he asserted, "I would rather see them left as a monument under [the Forest] Service than be transferred to ours as a Park."

Pinkley found little support for his position in Santa Fe. In his view supporters of project thought of the "proposed park in monument terms for when I suggested that we make a monument out of Puye and Frijoles [Canyon] and let them make a park out of the fine scenery which . . . was back on the Jemez Mountains to the west and south, they immediately said that such an idea would weaken the park proposition." When Pinkley suggested that the ruins were national monument material, the park supporters pointed to Mesa Verde as evidence to the contrary. "I could only reply that national monuments are clearly defined by the [Antiquities] Act . . . while parks are not . . . so if Congress in its wisdom wanted to make a national park out of a duck pond that could be done but it would be no argument for making a national park out of every duck pond in the country." [33]

Pinkley's vision of the national monuments as equals of the national parks shaped his position. As far as he was concerned, the scenery and the ruins on the Pajarito Plateau were second-class, national monuments and national parks were two separate concepts, and the Bandelier conversion attempt represented an effort to minimize the differences. Pinkley could not condone the park effort. His position as superintendent of the national monuments made him feel as threatened as the Forest Service. The park idea was inflexible; it left no room for compromise. If the Bandelier region became a national park, Pinkley knew that the agency would soon look at other southwestern national monuments with the same purpose in mind.

Pinkley's report came as a major surprise to the strong pro-park element in the National Park Service. Horace Albright, the leading proponent of the park, thought that Pinkley took too narrow a view of the question, seeing it from an archeological perspective instead of from the "broader standpoint of a national park executive." [34] Albright suggested Nusbaum, whom he could count upon, as a more qualified judge of the situation. Exhausted by the earlier fray, Nusbaum was too busy at Mesa Verde to take on added responsibilities.

The rift in the ranks posed a problem for advocates of the park on the Pajarito Plateau. They could not go on promoting the proposal as if they had the unanimous support of the agency. The Park Service could not even approach the Coordinating Commission, for it lacked the unified front that was necessary to sway the Forest Service. As a result, the agency finessed the rest of 1927, allowing the term of the Coordinating Commission to expire and keeping Pinkley's report out of the public eye. Even friends of the agency were kept in the dark. On January 17, 1928, Hewett wrote the Park Service to find out if the project was still under consideration. More than half a year after Pinkley's report, the most important friend of the agency did not even know that the inspection was complete. Mather responded to Hewett's inquiry by offering the traditional response concerning park proposals on the Pajarito. He complained that "the lack of a definite proposal" hurt the project. If Hewett had a clearly defined proposal, the agency "would be glad to present [it] for some definite action." [35]

The question hung in a limbo imposed by the Park Service until late 1930, when Albright commissioned another study of the area. Roger Toll, the superintendent of Rocky Mountain National Park and the primary inspector of national park proposals in the West, M. R. Tillotson, the superintendent of Grand Canyon National Park, and Nusbaum went to Bandelier to make another report on the proposal. Surprisingly, their report supported Pinkley's position. In their view, the scenery was not "sufficiently unusual and outstanding" to merit national park status. "The choice," Toll wrote, "seems to be between having a large and important national monument and a rather small and unimportant national park." [36] Although Associate Director Arno B. Cammerer thought that the agency should "aim high and then if necessary come down to what is possible to acquire," the report finally convinced Albright to put aside the park plans. [37] On January 2, 1931, he wrote that he was "inclined to favor the national monument idea [because] the reports which we have now before us have quite convinced me that we had better not try to get a national park in this section, at least not now." [38]

Even experts hired by the agency supported Pinkley. On February 10, 1931, Dr. Clark Wissler of the American Museum of Natural History and a member of the Committee on the Study of Educational Problems in the National Parks, suggested that the Park Service should "emphasize the archeological function of the proposed park [which] relieves us of the necessity to combat the argument that the area lacks distinctive natural scenery. . . . The park can scarcely be defended on scenic grounds." [39] Wissler effectively put the brakes on the idea of a national park on the Pajarito Plateau. Agency standards required not only archeological but scenic value as well. An indictment from as impartial an observer as was available damaged the chances of the park.

Even though the park project seemed futile, strong support for the idea still existed within the agency. Two days after Wissler's letter arrived, Cammerer expressed both disappointment and optimism in a memo he attached to it. "On the basis of this letter, if it stood alone," he wrote, "there would be no justification for more than national monument status for this area. From what I have heard, however, a good point could be made on scenic values. . . . I should like to inspect it some time with just that point in view." [40] There was still a little life left for the Pajarito Plateau national park.

But late in 1931, Roger Toll again concurred with Wissler's judgment, suggesting that the existing monument would "would make a splendid addition to the archeological national monuments . . . even if no other area were included." The Forest Service offered to turn over the existing Bandelier National Monument, but Toll believed that "they did not wish to lose any more area from the Santa Fe National Forest than was necessary for the protection of the ruins." [41] Transfer of the monument offered an acceptable compromise to both sides, and Toll recommended accepting the offer.

If it could not get a national park, at least the National Park Service could get what Frank Pinkley desired—administrative control of the archeological ruins on the Pajarito Plateau. A rapid increase in travel to the monument followed the completion of a new approach road to the monument boundaries, and it expedited negotiations. The Forest Service realized that it was not prepared for the onslaught of tourists the new highway would bring. Thus its policy regarding the monument changed. [42] United States Forester Major R. Y. Stuart wrote Albright that he was prepared to transfer the existing monument and 4,700 additional acres surrounding the Otowi ruins and Tsankawi Mesa as long as the access roads through the additional acreage were to remain open for the use of local residents. [43] Stuart was willing to cede it to the Park Service if it appeared to remove the pressure to convert large sections of the Santa Fe National Forest into a national park.

On February 25 1932, the Park Service assumed administrative responsibility for the new Bandelier National Monument, which included 3,626.20 of the 4700 acres that Stuart offered. The agreement resolved years of difficulty on the plateau. The Park Service had its ruins, but no national park; the Forest Service retained the majority of its holdings in the region. [44]

Albright's aggressive stance toward the Forest Service created the climate in which the transfer could occur. After an onslaught which began with the very proclamation of the monument and with a slew of proposals that included large areas of the Santa Fe National Forest, the Forest Service was happy to accede to an NPS demand to transfer a national monument not much larger than the existing one. Instead of 200,000 acres, the Forest Service only gave up 26,026. Albright requested so much land that when his subordinates finally convinced him of the value of a pre-eminent national monument, orchestrating the arrangement became easy. His all-out frontal attacks made the USFS susceptible to a reasonable proposal.

By only giving up a monument, the foresters could also claim victory. They fought off a powerful attempt to cripple their interests in northern New Mexico. The Forest Service still administered most of the Pajarito Plateau and its policies were intact. Homesteaders and commercial interests continued to lease grazing and timber land from the USFS and in such circles, the foresters retained substantial influence.

Pinkley also emerged from the Bandelier transfer a victor. He held out for his definition of the national monument category, and in this case, the NPS followed his lead. As the result of the Bandelier case, Pinkley finally made his definition of the national monument category stick. Archeological sites, at least, were and would remain national monuments. Pinkley held out for the categorization of park areas according to the Antiquities Act and for quality national parks and monuments. No longer would he have to worry that the best of his archeological sites would become national parks. Although his budget problems in the Southwest continued, Frank Pinkley's archeological national monuments were safe from assaults within the agency.

The question of whether archeological, recreational, scenic or commercial values should take precedence on the Pajarito Plateau led to conflict between the National Park Service and the United States Forest Service. It was resolved politically, without actually comparing the relative merits of each case. Frank Pinkley's allegiance to the national monuments dominated his intellectual horizons, and he did not subscribe to the theory that an aggregation of values made a predominantly archeological area worthy of national park status. An expansive national park with the combination of important archeological ruins and average scenery was unacceptable to both Pinkley and the Forest Service. A much smaller national monument, focused primarily on its archeological component and administered by the NPS, was a better alternative. It posed no threat to the land management policies of the USFS because it required a comparatively small portion of national forest land. Pinkley's unlikely alliance with the Forest Service showed that commercial use of natural resources and archeological preservation were not mutually exclusive, particularly when contrasted to the threat scenic preservation presented to both.

After finally achieving his objective, Pinkley began to implement his plans for the Bandelier National Monument. With the help of the Federal emergency relief programs, the monument would flourish under Park Service administration in the course of the 1930s.