The sudden, unexpected death of Lewis Grey that summer toppled Zane’s crumbling resistance to marriage. On July 15, Lewis was overcome by heat and taken to the Mt. Carmel Hospital in Columbus. Six days later, he died from heart failure. Ellsworth, Zane’s brother, was tapped to represent the family and to escort the body from Columbus to Zanesville for burial in Woodlawn Cemetery.102
On the day of his father’s collapse, Zane started his first journal and his first entry is a description of an approaching thunderstorm that reads like a scene from one of his novels and opens, “Dark and forbidding came the fast-scudding broken clouds.” His second entry declares, “My father died today,” and follows with a vague, impressionistic poem. The following day, he added:
My thoughts go back to the days I climbed the hills with my father when I was a lad eager and gay, with no thought of tomorrow, no understanding of the sadness of human life. And today he is gone. I shall never see him again. Somewhere in the darkness and silence, alone, stone-cold, he lies.
If only I might have done more.103
Clearly his father’s death was very upsetting, but for an author whose novels would accentuate emotion, he was notably reserved about his own feelings. The man who had sternly judged him all his life and harshly punished his many mistakes was gone. Even though his ties to his father had been fraying for years and had finally broken months before, it took death to end the force of his influence.
Zane was now entirely free to make his own decisions and to move forward with his new life. In October, Zane informed Dolly that he had “come to the point where I intend to marry” and accompanied his announcement with this explanation:
My blood is red, I know, pure I hope and believe, but as it was born of woman so it will never be free of that softness. … I shall never lose the spirit of my interest in women. I shall always want to see them, study them, interest them. I never grow tired of women. Even my development has added tenfold to this fateful thing. Every woman rouses my antagonism, excites my instinct of wonder, and fear, and pity. Where I once wanted to break a girl’s heart—with that horrible cruelty of the young and ignorant—now I want to help, cheer, uplift, develop, broaden, show things and at the bottom still a little of that old fateful vanity.
Am I wrong? Am I only a monster? I love you truly, if such a man can love truly. I know I can quake your heart with a look, but I fear you sometimes with a trembling soul. I fear your strength.104
That Zane needed to discuss his love for Dolly in terms of “my interest in women” is both strange and fraught with significance. His explanation was supposed to justify his decision to marry, not to prepare her for the women in his future. Furthermore, his acknowledgment of Dolly’s strength and of his indebtedness to women in general was communicated as an admission of weakness. The softness and sensitivity of women were not just alluring to him; they drew out similar traits within himself, making women both impossible to resist and a threat to his manliness. This thinking anticipated his theory, admitted years later to his son Loren, that his body contained an abundance of female cells that normal men did not possess.105 He would also believe that his black depressions and need for romance were driven by emotions that normal men either did not have or learned to master. Women, on the other hand, understood and often shared them.
A letter from Dolly to Zane written from early in 1905 is equally revealing about deep-seated beliefs that she brought to their impending marriage. “There are times when I myself feel some power stirring in me which seems to drive me to impossible things (for me). It makes me dissatisfied with myself and my surroundings. At such times I wish I were a man, but after a while it usually turns into the channel of wishing to inspire and help you to do great things. What is that feeling—ambition? I think it is higher, more.”106
The crippling ailments that sent Dolly to doctors and sometimes to bed over the spring of 1905 were aggravated by Zane’s reluctance to give up his girlfriends and commit to marriage, but they were also worsened by her course work at Columbia Teachers College where she was working on a master’s degree in education. Classes there were more difficult than the ones she had taken at the New York Normal College. Long hours of studying and writing intensified her worry of failing. Defensively, she concluded that she was in a “strained social atmosphere” and that her fellow students were “dried out, old maid school teachers.”107 Her doctors’ advice that she quit school reinforced her wish to marry. Lacking confidence in herself and her own abilities, she believed that men did not have such doubts. Zane’s distress made him unusual—simultaneously a kindred spirit and a worthy project. With her teaching career in doubt, she consoled herself that she was not like the unfeminine women who were performing better, but she did share their manly longings to succeed and make something of themselves. She determined that inspiring Zane and helping him to succeed was a “higher” ambition and one more appropriate for the kind of woman she preferred to be and was raised to be. As much as she wanted to be strong like Betty Zane, she too was submissive around the man she loved.
On September 20, R. C. and Reba were married in New York City, and two months later, on November 21, 1905, the wedding of Zane and Dolly ended their five-year courtship. Afterward, they returned to Lackawaxen and settled into the cottage that they would call “honeymoon house.”
3
Adventurous Apprentice: 1906–10
“If you want fame or wealth or wolves, go out and hunt for them”
—The Last of the Plainsmen
In one of the few reviews of The Last of the Plainsmen (1908), Forest and Stream offered the following information about the work’s little-known author: “Dr. Grey hails from Pike county, Pennsylvania. A couple of years ago he had in contemplation a trip to South America; a cruise in a small boat around the Peninsula of Labrador to Hudson Bay; and a journey through the Arizona desert country. He chose the latter.”1
These comments reveal that, long before Grey became famous, the editors of this magazine were aware of both him and his plans. Even though Forest and Stream did not publish any of his early articles, he did submit several and, by way of support, arranged to meet the editorial staff and to present himself as an adventurer. When he visited Zanesville in May 1904 to promote Betty Zane, he informed the local paper of his intent to summer in British Columbia.2 Clearly he wanted to impress editors and readers with his ambition and daring. The fact that he did not get to these places does not make his plans deceptions or pipe dreams; like many plans, they got changed. Nonetheless, they are a revealing indication of intent and direction. For someone who had traveled little beyond Ohio, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania and who had recently converted to the simple life, these were ambitious hopes to extend his range, but he was as uncertain as he was restless. Getting going and coping were the hard part.
Although he was thirty when he decided to become a writer and thirty-three when he married, Grey still thought of himself as young, and he harbored intense longings for adventure and excitement. He shared his age’s enthusiasm for the outdoors and sporting activities. Roughing it exposed the drawbacks of modern conveniences, provided healthy conditioning, and fostered self-sufficiency. Back in 1893, Frederick Jackson Turner had journeyed to the Columbian Exposition in Chicago and had informed his fellow historians that the frontier era had ended; but, thirteen years later, Grey could see that pristine wilderness and large stocks of wild game still existed, even if they were far away from life in the East. Fastening initially upon the access this expansion provided and disregarding its menacing potential, he construed the problem as one of money and time.
Grey refused to believe that his career change and recent marriage placed opportunity beyond his grasp. He could see that sporting magazines needed fresh, interesting accounts. Most of these magazines were spawned by recent industrialization, which lowered the cost of production, increased their attractiveness, and exploited the outdoors to sell manufactured goods. Even though the pay for authors was poor, sometimes nothing at al
l, these journals covered expenses and facilitated trips that could gain him experience and reputation. He wanted to be an explorer—of places first and then of materials, issues, and attitudes crucial to his writing.
Starting came first, and the author who wrote with such admiration for his venturesome ancestors was surprisingly reluctant to leave home. Dolly campaigned for a cross-country trip as a honeymoon and she was willing to pay for it. She proposed that they take a train to the Grand Canyon, travel leisurely from San Diego to San Francisco, and sightsee in Colorado on their way back. In a journal entry on the eve of his departure, Zane confessed reservations about the upcoming trip, and more than a little uneasiness about his own reluctance:
Tonight I leave for California with my wife. I really don’t want to go. I don’t seem to have the right feeling. I’d rather stay at home. … What will be the result of this trip? Shall I come back with a wider Knowledge, a deeper insight, a greater breath, or shall I simply be the same? I say—No! But then I’ve said no to too many things. There is something wrong with me, with my mind, with my soul.3
Dolly, on the other hand, initiated her journal for the trip with the following entry; “In almost a week we’ll be ‘over the hills and faraway.’ What a new experience that will be for me, who has done absolutely no traveling.”4
This trip during January and February of 1906 dented Zane’s reluctance. On January 15, he and Dolly arrived at the first destination on their itinerary: the Grand Canyon. In 1901, when the Santa Fe and Grand Canyon Railroad completed a spur from Williams to the South Rim, visitors no longer had to take a long, hard stagecoach ride, and the Canyon immediately became more accessible and less costly. The convenience of this railroad connection was bolstered by the construction of the elegant El Tovar hotel in 1905. Two years later, in January 1906, Theodore Roosevelt invoked the Antiquities Act of 1906 and declared the Canyon a national monument, although it did not become a national park until 1919.5
When Zane and Dolly checked into El Tovar, they were the early beneficiaries of an unfolding commercialization that soon became as integral to the experience as the breathtaking views. The Kolb Brothers studio that opened in 1904 was ideally positioned near the entrance to the Bright Angel Trail and there they purchased photographs and film. On January 16, after a storm that left a foot of snow, they went down into the Canyon on the mule ride to Indian Gardens and Plateau Point. Although these rides commenced in 1891, the extension of Bright Angel from this midpoint to the Colorado River at the bottom was completed only three years before.6 This excursion left the couple with aching bones and colds that kept them close to the hotel for the next two days.7 Zane was captivated by the Canyon’s vast, desolate scenery, and, as he strolled the walkways and paused at the overlooks, he dreamed of exploring and camping in the shadowy recesses in the distance below, little realizing that his writings would one day influence the way visitors perceived this landscape.
From the Grand Canyon, the newlyweds journeyed to southern California for two weeks. In San Diego, they stayed at the Coronado Hotel and Zane caught a shark while he was fishing from a nearby pier. “This was the beginning of Zane Grey’s sea fishing,” Dolly appended in a 1937 notation to her honeymoon journal. When Doc went fishing several more times, Dolly noted that she did not “like to be alone among so many people as there are here. I have no self-confidence.”8 From Los Angeles, the couple took a day trip that passed through Altadena, where they would settle fifteen years later, to the narrow-gauge railroad that ran to the top of Mount Lowe. The major attraction for Zane was Catalina Island, an acclaimed center for sportfishing, where he and Dolly stayed for a week. There, in 1898, Charles Holder, a former curator of the American Museum of Natural History and son of its cofounder, landed the first 100-pound tuna to be taken with rod and reel. More accurately, Holder’s many articles about this catch earned him this distinction. This and Col. Morehouse’s much larger 251-pound tuna that same year sparked interest in angling for saltwater game fish with tackle, and attracted fishermen from the East and England.9 Having been an avid bass fisherman for many years, Grey was eager to catch one of the fabled tuna.
The abbreviated entries in Dolly’s honeymoon journal discreetly veil the disappointment of this first visit:
Feb. 1: This morning early we left Los Angeles for Santa Catalina. First we took the train for San Pedro, then a really fine-looking boat for the island.
Feb. 2: This morning Doc went fishing on the ocean, but I, dreading my first experience, remained here. At noon the fishing boats began to come in and all seemed to have had pretty good luck.
Feb. 3: Today we took another fishing trip, but with no material luck.
Feb. 4: Doc went fishing but I remained at the hotel.
Feb. 5: Today I caught my big albacore.
Feb. 6: This morning Doc took Mr. Clausen out fishing.
Feb. 8: Today we left Catalina Island. Doc went out and attempted to catch a yellow tail.
In a marginal aside to the February 8th entry, Dolly wrote, “Notice attempt—That’s why we left.”10 This notation implies that Dolly was the only one to catch a large fish.
Grey’s avoidance of Catalina for nine years afterward was not due to this initial disappointment.11 There were other factors in his long-delayed return. His experience taught him that the tuna season did not really start until May and that the numbers of tuna around Catalina had dropped sharply following the catches by Holder and Morehouse. He also learned the critical importance of a skilled boatman and the steep rates to hire them. Even more of an obstacle was the Tuna Club, which dictated how the fishing should be done and was already a bastion of wealth and snobbery. Its rules on tackle and technique and its prized buttons for large catches fostered intense competition. These conditions made the fishing expensive and intimidating, and Grey was neither the first nor the last to be put off by these drawbacks.12
From southern California, Zane and Dolly journeyed to the San Gabriel Mission in Santa Barbara and then to Santa Cruz, where they visited a nearby grove of giant redwoods. After a stay in San Francisco, they took the train across the Nevada desert and stopped overnight in Salt Lake City, which struck Dolly as populated with the “most pathetic set of people.” On February 16, they arrived in Denver and from there took a final excursion to the Royal Gorge, Pike’s Peak, and Garden of the Gods.13 Ten days later, when they returned, Zane recorded his mixed feelings about the experience in his journal: “I may say traveling has some pleasant features, among which may be named the greed of people.”14
Zane was eager to resume his writing. The year before, he had finished The Spirit of the Border and A. L. Burt, a reprint house with a strong line of books for juveniles, agreed to publish it. Although Grey was relieved not to have to pay, he knew that Burt was well down the ladder of publishers and realized that the prospects for his book were not bright. Spirit had come out while he was away, and his first concern now was to rework his manuscript of “Peaceable Village.” This work would be rejected many times over the next three years and would be retitled The Last Trail when it finally appeared in 1909.
Over the summer of 1906, the paucity of reviews and dismal sales for Spirit sent Zane on a searching reevaluation of his efforts so far. He worried that his completed novels were set too far in the past and focused too much upon his ancestors. His guidebooks on writing stressed the importance of personal experience and intensified his awareness of the need for change. Was there worthwhile material for a novel somewhere in his honeymoon trip? Or should he search elsewhere? Should he take more trips? Where should he look to find more promising material? Viewed from this alternative line of thinking, British Columbia, South America, Labrador, and Arizona contained an underlying resemblance: all were exotic and wild. The kind of challenge and opportunity that Zane’s ancestors discovered in Ohio so long ago still existed in these distant areas.
When he spoke to the editors of Forest and Stream, Grey was seeking the kind of support he initially received from the Camp
Fire Club. His second publication, “Canoeing on the Delaware,” was originally presented as a talk at a club meeting. George Shields encouraged him to write it up for Recreation, the club magazine that he owned and edited, and he accepted it. By 1905, however, Shields’s autocratic manner had so strained his relations with the club’s membership that he resigned, sold Recreation, and started Shields’ magazine. 15 As Zane experimented and evolved, Shields continued to believe in him. In the late summer or early fall of 1906, he accepted for his new magazine an article by Grey entitled “A Hunter’s Change of Heart” that ran in the March 1907 issue. The next issue carried a notice revealing how Grey had solicited more advice from Shields for a trip to Mexico:
Dr. Zane Grey, the author of “Betty Zane” and several other popular books, went to Mexico some months ago, and in a conversation a few days before leaving he asked me what I wanted from there in the way of stories.
I told him he might get a good story by spending a night in the jungle … The Doctor went up into the foot hills, about 100 miles from Tampico, got off at a lonely little station, went into the forest. … But why spoil a good story by telling it beforehand? It is a corker and will be published in the May number of this magazine.16
Five obscure articles and some faded photographs contain the little available information about a second trip taken by Zane and Dolly, this time to Tampico, Mexico, over January 1907. They make clear that a jungle visit was not his main objective.17 He was more interested in the area’s large concentrations of tarpon. Although anglers had caught some of these large acrobatic fish on rod and reel back in the 1890s, the Tuna Club and its innovative tactics increased its popularity. Much of this interest gravitated to the gulf coast from Florida over to Port Aransas, Texas, which quickly became the Catalina for tarpon fishing. In 1903 the then-secretary of the Tuna Club visited Port Aransas and was so impressed by its tarpon that he established a satellite club with similar rules. Had Grey been seeking only tarpon, he could have visited Port Aransas for less time and money.
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