It's no secret that Hollywood has a habit of playing fast and loose with the truth
in the name of entertainment, and we all know that the words 'based on real events'
are really code for 'we made 90% of the plot up to make it more interesting.'
There's a long list of movies based on so-called 'true stories' that have been significantly
spiced up for the silver screen, from Catch Me If You Can to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
The Revenant starring Leonardo DiCaprio is another good example. Released in 2015
to critical acclaim, the film tells the story of American frontiersman Hugh Glass,
who gets horrifically mauled by a grizzly bear before going on an
epic journey to wreak his revenge on the men who abandoned him in the aftermath.
It sounds like textbook Hollywood hyperbole, and the Revenant certainly took some serious
liberties with the truth. In fact, outside of the bear-mauling itself,
almost every major plot point in the entire film is utter nonsense.
But here's the funny thing. While it's absolutely true that Hollywood had its
wicked way with Hugh Glass' story - if anything, the fictional retelling
was actually significantly *less* epic than the real events of his life. I mean,
they didn't even mention the part where he was forced to become a pirate, or the bit where he
watched his friend burned alive with slivers of superheated pine. And no, I'm making that up.
This is the story of Hugh Glass - a tale
so incredible Hollywood toned it down to make it more believable.
We don’t know a whole heap about Hugh’s early life, but he was probably born sometime around
1783 near Philadelphia. These days we know him as a famous frontiersman and bare-knuckled boxer of
bears, but when he first pinged into existence on history's radar, he was actually a sailor.
His ship was attacked by pirates somewhere off the coast of what is now Texas in 1819. Most of
the crew were killed, but after acquitting himself particularly well in the fight,
Glass was given a choice - ally with the pirates, or join the rest of his crew leaking blood and
guts onto the deck. After deliberating for several microseconds, Glass chose the former.
As is the case with most bold career changes, becoming a pirate wasn't easy. For one thing
there was a lot more raping and pillaging than Glass was used to, and despite having a solid
work ethic he never really took to it. At what I like to think of as the equivalent of his
first annual appraisal, Glass' new boss - the notorious pirate Jean Lafitte - was not pleased.
As punishment for his perceived crimes, Glass was set to stand trial before
Lafitte beside another condemned crew member. Both men knew their fate would be a long walk
from a short plank, so they made a run for it (which quickly became a swim for it).
They were 2 miles out to sea at the time, but somehow both made it to shore alive, where they
set about living off the land, avoiding search parties, and trying not get eaten by cannibals -
they were in Karankawa territory, a Native American tribe well known for their predilection
for human flesh. I should point out that there’s no evidence the Karankawa were cannibals - the
rumour seems to have been started by Spanish colonists, and it stuck. Still, Glass and his
buddy didn't know that, and quite understandably they had no intention of putting it to the test.
Keeping a low profile, the two men headed north in search of friendly settlements. 700 miles
later in what is now Kansas, they were captured by members of the Pawnee tribe. On the bright side,
the Pawnee weren't cannibals - on the shite side - they *did* practise ritual human sacrifice.
Soon after they were caught, Glass' travelling companion was stripped naked and burnt at the
stake. As he died, his writhing body was stabbed repeatedly with burning splinters of pinewood.
Glass would have been next, but as the tribesmen began to prepare him for the ceremony,
he reached into his pocket and produced a vial of a red ore called cinnabar,
which he presented to the tribe's chief with a deep bow, and awaited his fate with dignity.
Cinnabar was highly prized by the Pawnee - and the chief was so impressed with the gift - as well as
the gravity and respect with which it had been given - that not only did he spare Glass' life,
he accepted him into the tribe. It's thought that Glass went on to live with the Pawnee
for several years, and there's a pretty good chance his later feats of survival
were made possible at least in part by the things he learned from them.
He left the tribe sometime in the early 1820s, making his way to St. Louis, where he responded
to an advert to join the recently-formed (and soon to be world famous) Rocky Mountain Fur
Company. The company, founded by William Ashley and Andrew Henry, was seeking tough men to join a
2000 mile expedition up the Missouri River to the recently established Fort Henry, which was to
serve as a base for fur trapping both on the river itself and in the Rocky Mountains to the west.
The men who joined that now legendary expedition would come to be known as
Ashley's 100, and they were some of the toughest men ever to have lived,
including some now-household names like Jedediah Smith and Jim Bridger.
Progress up the river in two large boats was slow but steady until an attack by members of
the Arikara tribe left 14 of Glass' new colleagues dead and many more injured.
Glass himself was shot in the leg during the skirmish, and the men were forced back downriver.
Founders, William Ashley and Andrew Henry had sunk a huge amount of capital into the expedition,
and returning home empty handed simply wasn't an option if the fledgling company was to survive.
With the Missouri deemed too dangerous, the group split into two - one, led by Ashley,
went west in search of beaver and immediate profits, while the other, led by Henry and
including Hugh Glass, went north to Fort Henry on foot in the hope of bypassing the Arikara.
The plan was only partially successful,
and the group ended up in several more minor skirmishes with the locals. But for Glass,
the biggest danger wouldn't come from muskets and tomahawks, but teeth and claws.
He was out hunting one day when he heard a sudden commotion in the undergrowth.
He turned to see a massive shape hurtling towards him at full speed,
and he had just enough time to raise his rifle and fire before the creature was on him.
If you've seen the Revenant, you'll know exactly what happens next - Glass
had inadvertently disturbed a mother grizzly bear and her cubs. Grizzlies
aren’t exactly friendly at the best of times, but a mother with her young is the dictionary
definition of overprotective. Glass was mauled to within an inch of his life.
The way the story's usually told, he managed to stab the bear to death during the struggle,
but the truth is, an adult grizzly in full-on attack mode is practically invincible once it
gets up close, and chances are it was Glass' companions - alerted by
his screams - who brought the bear down with sustained musket fire.
To begin with, they thought Glass was dead too, until someone noticed his chest was
still rising and falling. Amazingly, death was not yet calling, but one of his legs was broken
and his back was so badly lacerated that his ribs were visible beneath his bloodied skin.
It was obvious to everyone that Glass wouldn't last. So they made him as comfortable as they
could, strapped him to a makeshift stretcher, and continued on their way.
They didn't get far - Glass was a dead weight, severely hampering their pace
in this treacherous place - they were still in Arikara territory after all.
With little other choice, Henry offered a reward of $80 - the equivalent of a couple
of grand in today's money - to any men who would stay behind with Glass
in his final hours to give him a proper Christian burial. Two men stepped forward.
The first was a veteran trapper named John Fitzgerald, and the second was a 17-year
old rookie identified only as 'Bridger' - some historians believe this was probably Jim Bridger,
who would go on to become one of the most famous frontiersmen of the Old American West.
Fitzgerald and Bridger no doubt assumed they were going to make some easy cash - Glass was
at death's door, with the only sign he hadn't already been invited inside for tea and hobknobs
with the Grim Reaper himself being the occasional flicker of his eyes. But day after day went by,
and while Glass certainly wasn't getting any better, he wasn't dead either.
Fitzgerald and Bridger were getting twitchy. Nobody had expected Glass to live this long,
and $80 was beginning to look like inadequate compensation for their
dangerous task. After 5 days went by with no sign of Glass expiring,
they decided to act. They took his rifle, knife, and flint, and left him for dead.
The two men reached Fort Henry just a couple of days after the rest of the group and duly
confirmed that Glass was dead and buried, safe in the knowledge that there was no way he could
possibly come back and prove them wrong (I'm guessing they'd never seen the Lion King).
Glass, meanwhile, had woken from his stupor, still alive but in Dire Straits. He managed to splint
his broken leg, but the rest of his injuries were beginning to fester and he had no supplies or
survival gear. Pretty much the only thing he *did* have was a burning desire to get his revenge on
the men who'd robbed him and left him to die alone in the wilderness hundreds of miles from home.
They say that the journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step,
but that assumes one can actually walk. Hugh Glass' long road back to
civilization most likely started with a 3 inch scrabble and a very loud scream.
Most people would have given up there and then. He was 300 miles from the
nearest friendly settlement - a small trading post called Fort Kiowa - and on the journey
there was a whole host of hazards. But Hugh Glass was not 'most people.' He was
an ex-pirate who'd survived being shot in the leg and mauled by a bear, and who'd learned to
survive in the wilds of North America from the people who'd lived there for millennia.
Day by day, he dragged himself onwards, drinking water from streams and mashing passing insects
into his mouth for nourishment. After about a week of this pitiful existence he stumbled - across a
pack of wolves feasting on a buffalo calf. He waited patiently for the predators to eat their
fill, then dragged himself over to the carcass. It was a find that very probably saved his life.
He set up a makeshift camp nearby and gorged on buffalo meat until his strength returned.
As he slowly recuperated, he allowed maggots to proliferate in the worst of
his wounds. That might sound like a truly terrible idea,
but maggot therapy is actually an FDA approved biotreatment for various ailments even today.
In Glass' case, the writhing yellow larvae ate away his rotting flesh, preventing gangrene.
He was still badly wounded, but when he set out again for Fort Kiowa,
he was able to move far more freely. When he hit the Missouri River soon afterwards,
he either borrowed a skin boat from a friendly tribe of Lakota, or possibly fashioned his own,
depending on which source you read. Either way, the next leg of his journey was significantly
smoother than the first - he simply floated down river all the way to Fort Kiowa,
arriving approximately 6 weeks after his date with destiny at the paws of the grizzly.
After this epic journey back to civilization and safety, you might think Hugh Glass would
have put his feet up for a bit. But while most of his physical injuries had healed,
the mental ones had not. The men who had abandoned him to die were still out there
somewhere living their lives as if nothing had happened. Glass was determined to put that right.
After just a couple of days at the fort,
he heard about a new expedition heading back up the Missouri in the direction of Fort Henry,
where he assumed Fitzgerald and Bridger would be waiting. Glass signed up immediately.
It turned out to be an eventful trip. The expedition was only due to go as far as a group
of villages about halfway between Fort Kiowa and Fort Henry, and so Glass planned to hike the rest
of the way on his own. The day after he split with the other members of the group, they were ambushed
by Arikara and every single one of them was slaughtered. Glass had a run-in with the Arikara
himself, only narrowly escaping with his life after warriors from a rival tribe came to his aid.
When he finally arrived at Fort Henry after 6 weeks on the river and a month of solo hiking,
instead of an epic showdown with the men who'd wronged him, he found... absolutely nothing. Fort
Henry had been abandoned, and, according to a note he found pasted to the door, relocated nearby.
In the end, he strode into Fort Henry 2.0 more than 4 months after he'd been mauled
by the grizzly. The men stationed at the fort must have thought they were seeing
a ghost - after all, they had it on good authority that Glass was dead and buried.
Not our friend Bridger though - he knew exactly what he was seeing: a big fucking problem.
I think everyone can relate to that horrible sinking feeling you get when someone catches
you in a lie. I’m guessing Bridger felt it too, only worse - because *his* lie was also pointing
a gun in his face. In the end, he needn’t have worried. Glass was out for revenge,
but he was also a reasonable man. Bridger seemed to be genuinely remorseful for his crime,
and, after pleading his case to Glass, the grizzlied frontiersman ultimately decided that,
as the older man, the real blame lay with Fitzgerald.
Unfortunately, Fitzgerald had left the camp more than a month earlier
to join up with the army at Fort Atkinson in what is now Nebraska.
By this point winter had set in, and it was a full two months before Glass could set off in pursuit.
After another long hike and yet another deadly run-in with the Arikara, Glass finally made it
to Fort Atkinson, where he found himself face to face with John Fitzgerald. Glass
was a simple man. He didn't embark on some long speech or ask Fitzgerald to explain his actions.
He simply pulled out his gun, levelled it at Fitzgerald's head, and... did absolutely nothing.
Just at the moment he'd been about to pull the trigger, a nearby army officer pointed
out that murdering a member of the American military in cold blood was a capital offence.
In other words, if Glass shot Fitzgerald, he'd be hanged immediately.
It must have taken a huge amount of willpower to lower his weapon,
but lower it he did. He left Fitzgerald with a parting promise - if he ever
left the protection of the army, Glass would find him, and he would kill him.
Because he had a very particular set of skills, skills he’d acquired over a very long career.
Glass would live on the American frontier for the rest of his life, trapping, trading, hunting,
and exploring. He was a veteran of many battles with the various tribes whose lands the United
States of America was slowly claiming for its own, but it was in 1833 at the approximate age
of 50 that his luck finally ran out. He and two fellow trappers were ambushed by a large party
of Arikara braves while crossing a frozen river. They were all shot, robbed, and finally scalped.
In the years since, Hugh Glass' remarkable story has quite rightly achieved legendary status.
But as with many legendary tales, there's a fairly good chance some of this one isn't true. Much of
what we know about Glass' life comes from sources that are hard to trust entirely, and rumour has it
Glass himself was fond of telling tall tales, particularly when they concerned himself.
Exactly where we should draw the line between fact and fable is up for debate, but one thing's
for certain: even if only one tenth of the stories told about Hugh Glass are true,
he was undeniably one of the most remarkable men - and greatest survivors - ever to have lived.
Thanks for watching.