The world of Red Dead Redemption 2 is so large—so
detailed and varied, so full of stories and inspirations. So many things to talk about.
I’ve already made a video looking at the historical accuracy of Red Dead Redemption
2 from a broad perspective, but I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface. There
are so many events, items, locations, so many people, expressions, and traditions—and
I want to know more about all of them. So, starting all the way back at the beginning,
this is the real history of Red Dead Redemption 2. The game’s opening text is entirely accurate.
By the end of the 19th century, the Old West was nearing its end. The 1890 U.S. census
showed that the frontier had nowhere else to conquer. The Civil War was over, and laws
were commonplace. Some gangs still roamed but they were being
hunted down and destroyed. In fact, a lot of gangs were ultimately destroyed around
the turn of the century. When we first see the gang, they’re moving
wagons with horses, which, of course, is entirely historically accurate; horses were domesticated
thousands of years before the game’s setting, and horse-drawn carriages have been used for
just about as long. The state in which the Van der Linde gang
are travelling—Ambarino—could be based on any number of Rocky Mountain states (like
Idaho, Montana, or Wyoming), though it’s most likely based on Colorado, both because
of its geographical placement (specifically, Colorado’s placement near New Mexico and
Texas) and its name: in Spanish, Colorado means ‘red’, and Ambarino means ‘amber’.
Not to mention that the state’s recently-revealed flag bears a striking resemblance to the 1907–1911
Colorado state flag. In this opening cutscene, Hosea complains
about the snowstorm. [Hosea: “This weather, it’s May…”] Despite Hosea’s apparent
confusion about the weather, however, snowstorms in this region—namely, the Colorado valleys—were
said to be pretty common in May, though apparently not in 1899, when the game is set. One newspaper
claims that the preceding winter was heavy with snowfall, but not May 1899.
That being said, there was apparently at least one snowstorm in the region in May—on the
second of the month, a snowstorm hit the northern town of Windsor, Colorado, forcing a ballgame
to be postponed until the following week. By the sounds of it, maybe not strong enough
to have such a strong impact on the Van der Linde gang, but significant nonetheless. Eventually, the Van der Linde gang settle
down in Colter, a mining town that was abandoned during a storm fifteen years prior. Now, the
mining industry boomed about fifty years before the events of the game, during (and after)
the California Gold Rush in 1848. After about ten years of mining, California began to wane,
and by the 1860s, prospectors were moving towards the mountains. Colorado, in particular,
experienced an enormous boom after the discovery of silver at Leadville in 1879. Around 1893,
however, the price of silver dropped rapidly, and several years of depression in the state
followed. Mining towns were abandoned; in fact, in the 1990s, more than 18,000 abandoned
mines were identified in Colorado alone. Interestingly, it appears that the abandonment
of Colter in Red Dead Redemption 2 is not due to the price of silver or any other metals;
it’s due to heavy snow. It’s not the only mining town to have suffered such an incident
around this time, though. On December 21, 1883, a boarding house for
the Virginius mine outside of Ouray, Colorado was swept over by an avalanche, resulting
in at least six deaths. However, unlike Colter, the mine, owned by the Carolina Mining Company,
was not abandoned. It had 35 employees at the time of the accident, and so it continued
to operate, eventually becoming known as the Revenue Mine.
Also in 1883, a 23-day blizzard in Animas Forks, Colorado, could have led to a similar
fate. The blizzard blanketed the mining town with 25 feet of snow, forcing the locals to
dig tunnels simply to move between buildings. Despite this major setback, the mine continued
to grow for several years, and in 1904, the Gold Prince Mill was constructed. Eventually,
however, it suffered the same fates as most mining towns of the time; the Mill ceased
operation in 1910, and in 1917, miners removed its major parts for use in a new mill in Eureka.
By the 1920s, Animas Forks was a ghost town—100 years later, it still is.
The fate of Colter may not be an exact replica of a real-life event, then, but it certainly
could have been inspired by many. The next few scenes in this mission have more
interesting—though often obvious—historical connections.
For example, the gang use fuel-burning lanterns to light their path, and this is an item that
Arthur can use all throughout the game. The coil oil lamp, which uses kerosene or petroleum-based
lubricants, was created by John H. Irwin in 1862, replacing the lanterns of the 1700s,
which were lit with the more expensive whale oil or sperm oil. Prior to this, lanterns
were essentially just fancy candleholders. After the gang settle in the building and
discover that Davey has died, they put coins over his eyes. It’s often believed that
this ritual dates back to the Ancient Greeks, but there’s actually only one known occurrence
of this happening in Judea around the 2nd century A.D.; in reality, the coin was placed
in or on the mouth of a dead person as a payment or bribe for the ferryman who transported
them from the world of the living to the world of the dead. In slightly more modern times,
in Gaelic-speaking areas like Ireland or Scotland, placing coins on the eyes of a dead person
was more of a practical task than a religious one; it was used to stop the eyes from springing
open to muscular contraction, which would have been pretty disturbing. Eventually, this
version of the tradition made its way to the Old West, and evidently to the Van der Linde
gang. Nowadays, however, morticians simply glue the eyes shut, or use eye caps to hold
the eyelids in place. When Arthur, Dutch, and Micah make their way
to the Adler Ranch, they tether their horses to a hitching post. These, of course, were
very common during this time period—they were essentially the parking spaces of the
time. They likely originated in Europe in the 1600s, and, when they made their way to
the U.S., were typically made of stone or wood. Charles Bush, of Newbury, New York,
was issued the first patent for the hitching post in 1861, followed by others for the next
few decades by many more patents in many different designs—and, by the end of the 19th century,
they were as common as they are in the game. Interestingly, there’s a story from Kansas
City, Missouri, in July 1899, in which city forester L. F. Timmig believed that the addition
of more hitching posts in Kansas City would result in fewer injured trees. So, one can
imagine that their popularity was only growing at this time. Once inside the homestead at the Adler Ranch,
Dutch and Arthur begin looking for supplies. One of the places Arthur searches is the medicine
chest. For centuries before the game, people would store their medicines and cosmetics
in a chest or pantry, often in or near the bedroom, to protect them from bugs, rodents,
and children. It wasn’t until the late 1800s and early 1900s that the bathroom became the
more prominent location, particularly in shelves hanging on the wall. There’s a promotion
from 1845 advertising the sale of medicine cabinets for $5.50—the equivalent of around
$190 today. In 1894, an advertisement claimed that “every family should have one”. So,
by 1899, it’s no surprise that the Adlers were one of these families. All of the supplies that Dutch and Arthur
come across are based on reality, too. Oatcakes—known in the game as classic oatcakes—existed
in Scotland as early as 1st century during the Roman conquest of Britain, and they eventually
made their way to Canada via Scottish immigrants in the late eighteenth century. It’s highly
feasible for them to have moved from Canada to the U.S. sometime over the next 200 years
before the events of the game, too. The canned fruit and vegetables are most certainly
historically accurate. In 1795, as the country was involved in several battles around the
world, the French government offered a cash reward to anyone who could invent an effective
and cheap way of preserving food in large quantities. Enter French confectioner and
brewer Nicolas Appert, who observed that food packed into airtight champagne bottles did
not decay. He soon progressed to glass containers. In 1810, British merchant Peter Durand patented
his own method—said to have actually been created by Frenchman Philippe de Girard—though
this time packed within a tin can. Thus, modern-day canning was born.
On that note, Arthur picks up a can of baked beans in the homestead, too. Interestingly,
the timing on this one is relatively tight, though not entirely implausible. The origin
of baked beans can be traced back to Native Americans, but the first example of mass-produced,
commercial baked beans in cans is in 1895 by the H. J. Heinz Company in Pennsylvania—four
years before the game is set. In Colorado specifically, there’s mention of some Heinz
products making their way there in 1897, and a wider range in 1898, but there’s no mention
of beans specifically until 1902—three years after the game. Who knows, maybe the Adlers
got their hands on canned baked beans earlier than the wider public; or maybe Rockstar just
isn’t as annoyingly pedantic as I am. Speaking of which: salted beef, which Arthur
finds on the table in the homestead, has an interesting history. Salting meat is theorised
to date back to ancient times, when it was discovered that, in cold areas, meat didn’t
spoil when it had enough salt. However, nobody really has salted beef anymore; they have
corned beef, named by the British in 17th century due to the size of the salt used to
cure it. Interestingly, corned beef can be consumed in the game, but only in cans. And
we already know about those… Finally, Arthur takes money from a coin purse
found in a chest. Versions of coin purses have existed for thousands of years, potentially
dating back to 3,300 BCE, though the design of the one found in the homestead is a reflection
of the typical designs of the time, demonstrating class and eccentricity. While in the house, Dutch refers to “Uncle
Sam”, noting that killing Colm O’Driscoll is the only thing the two have in common.
This isn’t the last time we hear Dutch refer to his estranged uncle, either. But, of course,
we’re not talking about a relative of Dutch; no, “Uncle Sam” refers to the United States—or,
more specifically, the federal government. The origin of the name is disputed, though
a common story is that it’s based on Sam Wilson, a meatpacker from New York, who supplied
food rations during the War of 1812 to American soldiers. When somebody asked what the labels
on one of the cans stood for, a worker joked that the “US” stood not for “United
States”, but for “Uncle Sam”, and the nickname remained.
However, there’s evidence of the term being used as early as 1810, so this story may be
entirely false. The nickname was really popularised when it was personified by a well-known recruitment
poster during the First World War in 1917, but there’s no reason why Dutch wouldn’t
have known the meaning of the name in 1899. At the end of the first mission, Micah complains
about the living arrangements at camp—particularly his roommates. [Micah: “How come Arthur
gets a room and I get a bunk bed next to Bill Williamson and a bunch of darkies?”]
You may not have actually heard that last word before, because even in historical texts
it’s not very frequently used, but, based on the context, it’s easy to work out that
it’s a racial slur. It was first used around 1765 to 1775, but, at the time, it may have
actually been used without direct intention of offence—some say that it might have even
been a sentimental or affectionate term. For example, in the 1853 song “My Old Kentucky
Home”, Stephen Foster uses the term alongside the word “gay”—which, at the time, of
course, meant “carefree” or “cheerful”. But, regardless of the intention behind the
term at the time, it was still likely seen as offensive and patronising by those to whom
it referred. Why not just refer to them as “people”?
Over time—particularly around the late 19th and early 20th centuries—the term became
known as offensive and unacceptable, and this is almost certainly the intention behind Micah’s
usage in the game. In 1986, Stephen Foster’s song, which by that time had become the official
state song of Kentucky, underwent a change, replacing the offensive term with the world
“people” whenever it was used officially by the government. Since then, the term has
become nigh obsolete—and rightly so. In the second mission, Arthur and Javier save
John and protect him from wolves. Grey wolves were fairly common around the Rocky Mountains
in this time; in fact, there were attempts to exterminate them entirely in Wyoming. They
made their way north of Fort Collins, Colorado, in 1899, and attacks certainly weren’t uncommon.
In Nebraska in 1899, Peter A. Watson was attacked by a grey wolf but managed to kill it in close
combat with a small revolver. Watson was a wolf hunter for the State Stock Association,
killing an average of 400 grey wolves per year, though it was closer to 200 per year
by the turn of the century. In Colorado, the last wild wolf was shot in 1945, and it wasn’t
until last year—2020—that an initiative was approved to finally reintroduce them back
into the wild. Speaking of animals in the wild, one of the
next missions involves hunting deer with Charles—but, before that, Arthur speaks to Pearson, the
camp’s cook, who enjoys speaking of his time in the Navy. Assuming that Pearson was
born around the middle of the 19th century, he technically could have joined the Navy
at the age of 14 with parental consent. This lines up with the end of the American Civil
War, so he likely joined the force during the post-war period of decline. Perhaps this
is the reason he had such a short stint in the Navy—or perhaps he just wasn’t very
suited for it, no matter what he says. As Arthur and Charles leave, Pearson gives
them some assorted salted offal. Typically referred to as “variety meats” or “organ
meats” in the United States, offal is the organs of a butchered animal. Unsurprisingly,
it’s not hugely popular to Americans, which might explain Arthur’s reaction.
[Arthur: “Starving would be preferable.”] Before long, Arthur and Charles encounter
some deer. This isn’t surprising at all, as white-tailed deer are actually native to
North America, and are specifically distributed near the Rocky Mountains. Looking specifically
at Colorado in 1899: they were spotted near Loveland in November after heavy storms in
the mountains; seen in Rifle, Colorado, and hunted in the Western Slope; and driven from
Glen Beulah park to be turned over to the state in October.
On their way back to camp, Arthur and Charles almost run into a grizzly bear. This wouldn’t
be the only encounter in this area around this time: in May 1899, R. W. Bryan of Maybell,
Colorado fought with a grizzly bear after the bear had killed a mountain lion and focused
its attention towards him. Sadly, by this time, the grizzly bear population was already
in steady decline; between 1850 and 1920, they were eliminated from 95% of their original
range. In the North Cascades area in Washington, more than 3,700 grizzly bear hides were shipped
from trading posts between 1827 and 1859. In Colorado, the grizzly bear was considered
locally extinct in 1951—that is, until Ed Wiseman killed one with an arrow in his hand
in September 1979, after being attacked and mauled by it. By this time, bears were protected
by law, so an investigation followed, but it was eventually determined that he had acted
in self-defence. Unfortunately, this was the final sighting of a grizzly bear in the wild
in Colorado. When Arthur and Charles return to camp, Pearson
shares his drink with them—and Arthur is in for a shock.
[Arthur: “Jesus, what is that?” Pearson: “Navy rum, sir. It’s the only thing, the
only thing.”] Based on the actual properties of Navy rum,
though, Arthur’s reaction is not at all surprising. In 1794, when the U.S. Navy was
officially established, it inherited the British Royal Navy’s tradition of providing sailors
with a daily rum ration—in the UK, the rum was 57% alcohol by volume (a standard modern
beer is usually around 4 to 6%). So, when you hear the term “Navy strength”, you
know what it means. Sailors were originally given about half a pint of distilled spirits,
reduced to a quarter-pint in 1842, and to nothing during the Civil War in 1862. That
won’t stop Pearson from drinking on the job, though. [Micah: “I thought you liked action. Couple
of days on the lam, and you lot have all turned yella.”]
Let’s break down what Micah says here. In a modern context, “on the lam” refers
to fugitives on the run, and it makes more sense when it’s pulled apart: to “lam”
is to “beat”, and to “beat it” in Old English means to “leave”—so, “on
the lam” is essentially “on the leave” or “on the run”. In 1938, a New York police
office claimed to have heard the phrase about 30 years prior, which would be around 1908—far
later than the game’s 1899 setting. However, cabaret society apparently used the word “lam”
around 1900, near the release of Fables in Slang by George Ade, so it’s feasible that
it was in use during the game—though I doubt Micah attends cabaret shows, so how he learned
of its meaning is beyond me. As for “turning yellow”: the source of
“yellow” and “yellow-belly” meaning “coward” is unclear, though it may date
back to the 13th century, when heretics who repented were forced to wear yellow crosses.
It wasn’t until 1856, however, that the word first appears in print as a synonym for
“coward”, as P.T. Barnum wrote in the Boston Saturday Evening Gazette: “we never
thought your heart was yellow”. 13 years prior, The Wisconsin Enquirer quoted Captain
Wright of New York using the term “yellow belly” to refer to Mexicans, though it’s
more likely that this referred to their uniform or was intended as racist, rather than meaning
“cowardly”. The actual etymology of the term “yellow-belly”, however, might be
based on the fact that those with “yellow guts”—and thus are “yellow-bellied”—have
“fake” courage, as “guts” began to mean “courageous” around 1893. Regardless,
it’s safe to say that Micah was likely well aware of the term “yellow” by 1899. Probably
been called it a few times himself. When the gang arrive at the O’Driscoll’s
camp, Arthur observes them through his binoculars. This piece of equipment has an interesting
history, tracing all the way back to Hans Lippershey, the first person to file a patent
for the telescope in 1608. Lippershey was asked to build a binocular version of the
telescope, which he reportedly did later that year, but they were criticised for their lack
of efficacy. Several other attempts were made over the next two hundred years, but it wasn’t
until 1811 that the drawbacks were corrected by Johann Friedrich Voigtländer with the
binocular opera glasses. The first pair of binoculars that we’re familiar with were
invented by J. P. Lemiere in 1825, and this is the model used in the game. Another design
that you might be familiar with is the Porro or prism design, invented by Ignatio Porro
in 1854, though you won’t use these in the game.
Inside the O’Driscoll camp, Arthur and Bill find a large stash of dynamite, which also
has an interesting history. In France, Alfred Nobel studied under a chemist, whose other
pupil, Ascanio Sobrero, was the first to synthesise nitroglycerin in 1847. Over time, Nobel, along
with his father and brother, experimented with nitroglycerin, and he performed the first
successful detonation in 1863. He originally sold it as “Nobel’s Blasting Powder”,
but changed it to “dynamite”, based on the Ancient Greek word dýnamis, meaning “power”.
The “Giant Powder Company” was incorporated in San Francisco in August 1867 to manufacture
dynamite, having obtained the exclusive rights from Nobel, and thus it made its way to the
United States—and, thirty years later, into the hands of the O’Driscolls, and stolen
by the Van der Linde gang. Towards the end of the mission, Arthur uses
his lasso to capture Kieran. Interestingly, the history of the lasso may date back as
far as around 1280 BCE, when carvings in Europe showed the pharaoh holding a lasso. A few
thousand years later, Native Americans were said to have used lassos in the battles against
Spanish conquistadors, and, when the Spanish introduced horses to the “New World”,
the Native Americans improved their ability by learning to attack on horseback. A few
hundred years later, and Arthur seems to have mastered it himself. In the next mission, the gang prepare to rob
a train. Bill sets up the dynamite below the railway bridge, and Arthur helps him connect
the wire to the detonator. This method is basically as old as dynamite itself: in 1864,
Alfred Nobel realised that nitroglycerin could not be detonated by a fuse, but it could be
detonated by the explosion of a small charge of gunpowder, which could be detonated by
a fuse. Not far from the planned detonation spot,
above the railway track, is a water tower. Elevated water storage tanks have existed
in some form since ancient times, but these modern water towers were developed in the
mid-19th century. The one in the game is a railroad water tank, used to refill the boilers
of steam locomotives on the line. They were originally placed every 7–10 miles and took
a lot of time to refill, but, with the introduction of special cars that could hold water and
fuel, trains could soon run 100–150 miles without a refill. Interestingly, some settlements
were built around water stops; some locations were too insignificant for a regular train
station, but the existence of a water stop in the town led to the nickname “jerkwater
towns”. One notable example is the city of Coalinga, California; the name was developed
from the title “Coaling Station A”, the original name of the coaling station established
in 1888. Just before the train comes around the corner,
the gang members pull up their bandanas to disguise their faces. The predecessor of the
bandana, the kerchief, dates back centuries, but the bandana was popularised during the
American Revolution, during which Martha Washington had a bandana made of her husband, General
George Washington. As Arthur runs from the back of the train
to the front, there are a few blink-and-you-miss-it items found in the carriages, all with an
interesting history. The phonograph was actually fairly recent
in 1899, having only been invented in 1877 by Thomas Edison and commercialised in 1888.
The globe was much less recent, having been sold in the U.S. since 1813. They were created
by James Wilson of New Hampshire, who had taught himself map-making after becoming interested
in cartography. He opened the first geographic globe factory in the country, and his products
were widely successful, but quite expensive, with the first 13-inch globe priced at $50—the
equivalent of over $800 today. Even older than the globe is the harp; they
have been known since antiquity in Africa, Asia, and Europe, dating back to as early
as 3000 BCE. Another item dating back that far is the candle, but the candelabra is a
bit more recent. Candleholders made of clay date back to 400 BCE, and it is understood
that candelabra were used during the Middle Ages from 400–1400 AD, though the earliest
existing records date back to the 1600s. The invention of the light bulb in the 1870s somewhat
diminished the need for the candelabra, though it appears that Cornwall must have maintained
an affinity for them. Once Arthur breaks into Cornwall’s private
train car, he may find a letter signed by the Leland Oil Development Company making
note of the initial phase of exploration at the Wapiti Indian Reservation. Sadly, this
was true for Native Americans of the time; despite being moved from their ancestral lands
to reservation sites, they still weren’t safe. For example, petroleum developer Henry
Foster received privileges from the Bureau of Indian Affairs in 1895 to search the Osage
Reservation in Oklahoma for oil and gas. There are a few more small items found in Cornwall’s private car, too. The cigar has
its origins as early as the 10th century, with the ancient Mayans wrapping tobacco in
a palm or plantain leaf to smoke, though the first Westerners to encounter tobacco in recorded
history were Christopher Columbus and his men in 1492; by the mid-19th century, approximately
300 million cigars had been sold. The pocket watch evolved in the 17th century
from the earlier clock-watches, as men began to wear them in their pockets instead of as
pendants, partly due to fashion but mostly because it kept them safe from the elements.
Brandy was first distilled in France in the 14th century, though production in the United
States really began in the 18th century, and it became truly popular in the late 19th and
early 20th centuries; “fine” brandy, as Arthur finds, typically refers to high-quality
French brandy, which might seem out of place here, but, considering Cornwall’s riches,
it’s not entirely surprising. Cigarette cards were rather new at the time,
having been introduced in the mid-1870s by the U.S.-based tobacco company Allen & Ginter;
they were collectible cards often included with packages of cigarettes and released according
to themes, including film stars, sports athletes, nature, and military heroes.
Taxidermy is said to have been around in some form as early as 2200 BCE, when ancient Egyptians
embalmed the bodies of animals of royalty and buried them within the tomb of their Pharaoh;
modern-day taxidermy in the United States began in 1861, when the Natural Science Establishment
was founded in New York, placing the practice on the same level as other works of art and
into the public eye. The last—and most valuable—item that Arthur
collects from the private mail car are some bearer bonds. These are government- or corporate-issued
instruments of debt that are unregistered, with no listing of the owners’ names. They
were first introduced to the United States in the late 1800s to fund Reconstruction after
the Civil War, but, by the 20th century, became virtually unused as they offered no protection
from loss or theft, and in 1982, they were essentially outlawed by the Tax Equity and
Fiscal Responsibility Act. There are a lot of individual historical items
found throughout this mission, but the most interesting comparison to be made is actually
of the train robbery itself—in many ways, it’s a homage to the 1899 Wilcox Train Robbery
in Wyoming, likely orchestrated by Butch Cassidy and his gang, the Wild Bunch.
The beginning of the heists are quite different—one of Butch’s men waved down the train, while
Arthur and Lenny dive aboard theirs and stop it themselves—but the similarities become
clearer when it comes to the opening of the mail car. In both cases, the men inside the
cars refused to exit, forcing the robbers to riddle the carriage with bullets and blow
open the doors. It was at this point in Butch’s robbery when a second train began to bear
down on them, so he eventually got the engineer to move down another mile or so, just beyond
a newly constructed bridge. When the train stopped, Butch placed ten pounds
of “giant powder” beside the track and lit the fuse. Like in the game, the bridge
remained in place, though in Butch’s case, an explosion actually occurred, and the bridge
appeared fairly unpassable. Butch and his gang blew open the second mail car and both
its safes, and, at around 3:30 a.m., walked away with about $50,000 in cash, coin, and
jewellery. Or, at least, that’s one version of the
story. Whether or not Butch was directly involved in the robbery is somewhat disputed, but,
considering Dutch’s involvement in the in-game robbery, it appears that it’s this version
of events that Rockstar decided to follow. Regardless, the millionaire who ran the Union
Pacific, E. H. Harriman, read the news report about the robbery and hired the Pinkerton
Detective Agency to track down the Wild Bunch. It appears that Leviticus Cornwall, the millionaire
who owned the train in the game, has the same idea… Early in the next mission—the last one of
chapter one—Arthur, Charles, and Hosea encounter some Native Americans, from a distance. Hosea
tells Arthur of their troubles. [Hosea: “Stolen clean away from them it
was, every blade of grass. Killed or herded up to the reservations in the middle of nowhere.”]
Sadly, this is very much true. The Indian Removal Act—signed into law in May 1830
by President Andrew Jackson—authorised the president to negotiate with southern Native
American tribes for their removal to federal territory, also known as reservations. As
expected, however, these negotiations were full of corruption, and laden with coercion.
One of the more brutal examples in the Trail of Tears was the removal of the Cherokee Nation
from their lands, conducted through a treaty that was not approved by the Cherokee National
Council nor signed by the nation’s Principal Chief. Despite this, the government ratified
it anyway, and the removal ultimately resulted in at least 4,000 deaths—equating to one-fifth
of the Cherokee population—but likely even more.
[Hosea: “I just heard some of the army out here was particularly, uh, unpleasant about
it.”] Unfortunately, Hosea is right about this,
too—though the unpleasantness certainly wasn’t restricted to any one area. Of the
approximately 100,000 Native Americans forced to relocate between 1830 and 1850, thousands—as
many as 20,000—died. Slightly later in the mission, Hosea gives
Arthur some yarrow and ginseng, and tells him that they’re good for health. He’s
not wrong. Yarrow is native to Europe and western Asia,
but was naturalised in Australia, New Zealand, and North America. Its botanical name is said
to be named after Achilles, the Greek mythical hero who used the herb to stop the bleeding
wounds of his soldiers in the Trojan War of 1200 BCE. In Medieval times, yarrow leaves
were rolled up and stuffed into the nose to stop bleeding. Most similar to the in-game
usage, however, yarrow was popular in European folk medicine for centuries, as it contains
plant-based chemicals that help to support healthy digestion. In the game, yarrow replenishes
Arthur’s health and can be crafted into medicine, so its usage is fairly accurate.
American ginseng, meanwhile, was discovered around 1716 in Montreal, Canada, and, in the
U.S., it’s native to the deciduous forests to the east. It was one of the earliest marketable
herbs to be harvested in the country, becoming one of Minnesota’s first major exports;
in 1860, more than 120 tons of dried ginseng roots were shipped from Minnesota to China.
In the U.S., pharmacists classed the herb as rather mild, but the Chinese apparently
believed it to be powerful, so its success continued. The genus name, Panax, is derived
from the Greek word “panakeia”, meaning “universal remedy”—not quite universal,
as we’ll discover later in the game, but it certainly helps to cure Arthur’s health.
By 1901, the price of the wild dried ginseng root was around $5 per pound, while the cultivated
product was $9–$9.50 per pound—a far cry from the 25 cents that you’ll get for it
in the game, but I guess at that price, all the gang had to do was find some ginseng in
the wild and they’d have been in Tahiti in no time, so some changes to the economy
had to be made somewhere. In chapter one alone—even before leaving
the snow and exploring the open world—Red Dead Redemption 2 makes its historical connections
clear. Rockstar put so much effort into the game, its story, and world, and these first
six missions are a clear example of that. But now that we’re out of the snow, we focus
our attention on the livestock town of Valentine. And the historical connections just get more
and more interesting…
