The Early Indian Wars of Oregon/Rogue/Chapter 1
ROGUE RIVER WARS.
ROGUE RIVER WARS.
CHAPTER I.
Rascalities of the Rogue-river Indians—Lane's First Effort to Treat With Them—Naming a Chief—Appointment of an Indian Commission to Make Treaties—Extravagant Expenditure—Dart Made Superintendent—Outrages by the Snake Indians Causes Trouble With the Rogue-rivers—Murder of Dilley—Travelers Attacked—Kearney's Skirmish, and Death of Captain Stuart—Volunteering—Lane Appears Again—Kearney's Final Battle—Indian Prisoners Delivered to Governor Gaines—The Port Orford Settlement Attacked—Massacre on the Coquille—Escape of T'Vault and Others—Troops and Indian Agents—Gaines and Skinner—Colonel Casey's Operations—Arrival of Fresh Troops—Camp Castaway—Renewal of Troubles in Rogue-river Valley—Elisha Steeple and Agent Skinner—Fight at Big Bar—Treaty Made With Chief Sam—Neglect of the Federal Government—Murders by the Modocs—McDermit's and Ben Wright's Campaign—Expedition of John E. Ross—Punishment of the Mocods.
It has been mentioned in the history of the Cayuse war that Lane, governor and superintendent of Indian affairs, was absent in southern Oregon during the trial of the Indian prisoners at Oregon City. The occasion of this absence was the conduct of the Rogue-river Indians towards white men traveling to and from the gold fields of northern California. They had attacked a party in camp at Rock Point, and robbed them of their season s gains, as well as of all their other property, the men only escaping by fleeing to the woods.
Other complaints, and the well-known rascalities of these Indians, led the superintendent to visit them, to change, if possible, this condition of travel on the California road. His party consisted of fifteen white men, and as many Klickitat Indians under their chief, Quatley. They overtook and escorted some cattle drivers as far as the south bank of Rogue river, where Lane encamped, sending word to the Indians that he had come to make a treaty of peace and friendship, and desiring them to meet him unarmed. This proposition was accepted, and after a little delay two of the principal chiefs, with seventy-five warriors, arrived at camp.
The reception being over, the visitors were arranged in a circle, with Lane and the chiefs in the center. But before the council had begun, another party as large as the first appeared, advancing upon the camp armed with bows and arrows. They were invited to lay down their arms and be seated; and at the same time Lane, who had now to depend upon his keenness of sight and mind for the safety of his party, ordered Quatley, with two or three Klickitats inside the circle, to stand beside the head chief of the Rogue-rivers.
Keeping a sharp lookout, and communicating with Quatley only by flashes of the eye, Lane coolly proceeded to open the council, explaining that the object of his conference with them was to put a stop to their habitual robberies and murders of white men, to make travel through their country safe, and to make a treaty of friendship. If this could be affected, both white people and red would live in peace, and the lands settled upon by his race would be paid for by the government, whose agent would be sent to reside amongst them, and look after their interests.
The answer to Lane's speech, which was interpreted by Quatley, was a brief address in stentorian tones by the head chief to his people, who sprang to their feet, raising the war cry, and displaying the few guns they had among them, besides their bows and arrows. Lane had his counter movement ready, Quatley being told to seize the chief and hold him with a knife at his throat. He then, with his revolver in hand, quickly advanced to the line of armed Indians, knocking up their guns, and ordering them to lay down their arms. The chief finding himself a prisoner within the embrace of three stout Klickitats, and a gory death awaiting him, seconded Lane s command to ground their arms. After a few minutes deliberation Lane ordered them to retire and return again in two days to a peace council, during which time he should hold their chief as a hostage; and sullenly they departed with a new view of the character of the white race, whom they were accustomed to see in the light of fleeing victims of their cupidity and barbarity.
Lane s natural gallantry, love of adventure, and his fine courage made him particularly well adapted to deal with Indians. The morning following the captivity of the Rogue-river chief, his wife appeared on the bank of the river opposite the camp, and entreated to be allowed to join her lord. This was permitted, and Lane used the opportunity to impress upon the savage mind some of the higher sentiments of chivalry. In this he was so successful that before the two days were spent the proud chief requested a further conversation. Having learned from the interpreter the name of his hero, he addressed him, "Mika name Jo Lane?" "Nawitka," said the one-time general. "Give your name to me," said the chief, "for I have seen no man like you." To this proposal Lane replied that he would give him half his name—Jo—by which monosyllabic appellation the Rogue-river chief was known from that day forward.
The softening process having gone on for days, Lane presented to the mind of chief Jo the advantages of a treaty with the United States with such success that his propositions were accepted, even to the restoration of property taken from the Oregonians passing through their country, minus the gold dust, which had been ignorantly poured into the river, and so become lost irrecoverably. By Jo's advice his people all consented to the terms of the treaty as drawn up by Lane, which they kept with tolerable honesty for that year.
In order to prevent, as far as he could, a violation of the Indians rights under the treaty, papers were given to each member of the tribe present containing a written warning, signed by his name, so that "Jo Lane" became a talesmanic word throughout the Rogue river and Shasta valleys.
Lane having learned that he was to be superseded by a whig governor, did not return to Oregon City, but proceeded south to the Shasta mines to dig gold, Chief Jo presenting him, on parting, with a mark of his esteem, in the shape of a Modoc boy for a slave.
In 1850 congress passed an act extinguishing Indian titles west of the Cascade mountains, and the president immediately appointed as superintendent of Indian affairs, Anson Dart, who arrived in Oregon in October, together with P. C. Dart, his secretary. The sub-agents appointed were A. G. Henry, who failed to arrive at all; Elias Wampole, who did arrive; and H. H. Spalding, already on the ground. Twenty thousand dollars was appropriated and advanced to the superintendent with which he was to erect dwellings for himself and agents, and make presents to the Indians.
A commission was also created, consisting of the newly appointed governor, John P. Gaines, Alonzo A. Skinner, and Beverly S. Allen, to make treaties with the Indians west of the Cascades. According to their instructions, the object of the government was to remove the complaint of the settlers that they could not acquire perfect titles to their lands before the Indian title was extinguished. For this cause they were to treat with the small tribes in the Wallamet valley first and separately. They were to decide what amount of money should be paid for the lands, and grant annuities not to exceed five per cent of the whole amount. They were advised not to pay the annuities in money, but to substitute such articles of use, of agriculture, mechanics, and education as should to them seem best. If any surplus remained, goods might be purchased with that, to be delivered to the Indians. For this object twenty thousand dollars were appropriated, fifteen thousand of which was placed in the sub-treasury at San Francisco, subject to the order of Governor Gaines, the remainder being invested in goods, shipped around Cape Horn.
The pay allowed the commissioners was eight dollars per diem; the pay of their secretary five. They were allowed the services of interpreters and servants, as many as desired, at such rates as they pleased, with their traveling expenses, and a mileage of ten cents. The commissioners did not get to work before April, 1851, and in a few weeks six treaties had been made with the fragments of tribes in the Wallamet valley, and the twenty thousand dollars expended, less about three hundred, which remained, when information was received that congress had abolished Indian commissions, and placed the business of treaty making in the hands of the superintendent alone.
Dart was now without money, and almost without help from sub-agents. Spalding, who had been assigned to the Umpquas, visited them but seldom, and his removal was asked for, E. A. Sterling being appointed in his place, but stationed at the mouth of the Columbia. In June the superintendent paid a visit to the tribes east of the Cascades, finding them quiet, and promising them pay in the future for their lands. He found the Cayuses reduced by their misfortunes to a mere handful, the warriors among them numbering only thirty-six men. Here, on the Umatilla, he selected a site for an agency; and proceeded to visit the former mission stations of Waiilatpu and Lapwai to ascertain the losses of the Presbyterians through the Cayuse war. The cost of this expedition for employés was fifty dollars a day, in addition to transportation, which was four hundred dollars to The Dalles only, the superintendent's salary, and other expenses. Transportation from The Dalles to Umatilla cost fifteen hundred dollars, besides subsistence. A feast to the Cayuses cost eighty dollars, and so on. The agency building erected on the Umatilla cost enormously, and was of little use, Wampole, who did not arrive in Oregon until July, being removed in less than three months for trading with the Indians. A number of sub-agents were appointed for different parts of the territory, who either did not accept, or were inefficient. The one who really understood Indians, and was of use in going among the wild tribes, was J. L. Parrish of the dismembered Methodist mission.
The circumstances in which Dart found himself as superintendent of Indian affairs for the whole territory of Oregon, both north and south of the Columbia river, and east and west of the Cascade range, were anything but condusive to peace of mind or personal comfort, and it would appear that he accomplished as much as under the same conditions any man could have been expected to do. In his report he gave it as his opinion that with the exception of the Snake and Rogue-river tribes, the Indians of Oregon were remarkably well disposed; but that to keep these savages in subjection troops should be stationed at certain points, and particulary in the Snake-river country, through which the immigration must pass annually.
What it was that about 1850 developed the war spirit in these Indians, formerly not more ill-behaved than all savages, was a subject of conjecture. Doubtless the passage through their country of large bodies of people unarmed, and having with them much property, was a temptation to them to steal, and robbery sometimes provoked punishment. Blood once shed was the seed of a terrible harvest, as all Indian history proves.
Many persons believed they could see, in the sudden disaffection of the Snakes, the hand of the Latter-Day Saints, and certainly the evidence, though circumstantial, was strong against them. Others reasoned that the law forbidding the sale of ammunition to Indians in Oregon, which law the Hudson's Bay Company was compelled to respect, had destroyed that company's influence with the Indians, leaving them free to follow their own savage impulses. It might have been surmised that the Cayuse murderers, during their wanderings, had infected the Snakes with a spirit of hostility to Americans.
A slight coloring seemed to be given to this theory by the behavior of the Snakes towards the Nez Percés, who had refused to join the Cayuses in a war against the Americans, they having been hostile to the Nez Percés ever since that period. Dart found the Nez Percés in 1851 preparing to go to war against the Snakes, but persuaded them to wait another year for the United States to send troops into the country, when, if the troops had not arrived, he promised them they might fight.
In the light of what happened afterwards, it would have been better to have allowed the Nez Percés to have fought and subdued the Snakes. For, in 1851, the immigration suffered the most fiendish outrages at the hands of these savages, who regarded not age, sex, or condition. Thirty-four persons were killed, many wounded, and eighteen thousand dollars worth of property taken by the Snakes while the immigration was passing.
The road to California, traveled now continually, was more and more unsafe through all that region roamed over by the Shastas, Rogue-river tribes, and their allies. Notwithstanding the treaty entered into between Lane and the chief of the Rogue-rivers the previous year, great caution was necessary in selecting and guarding camping places and crossing streams. If a party wishing to cross a river constructed a ferryboat and left it tied up for the use of a party in the rear, the latter on arriving found it gone. While making another, guard had to be maintained, in spite of which their horses and pack animals were likely to be stampeded. When a part of their outfit was ferried over, guard must be maintained on both sides of the stream, dividing their force and increasing their peril. These annoyances and occasional conflicts led to irritation on the part of the miners, who, as they grew stronger, were less careful in their conduct towards the Indians, who were only too ready to find provocation in the contempt of white men.
Finally, in May, contempt was turned into a desire for vengeance by the treacherous murder of David Dilley, one of a party of three white men, and two professedly friendly Rogue-rivers. While encamped for the night the Indians stealthily arose, seized Dilley's gun, and shot him dead as he slept. The other two white men, who were unarmed, escaped back to a party in the rear, and the news was sent to Shasta, where a company was formed, headed by one Long, who crossed the Siskiyous, killed two Indians, one a sub-chief, and took several prisoners as hostages for the delivery of the murderers.
Demanding the surrender of the murderers was well enough, but the demand being accompanied or preceded by revenge, gave the head chief a plausible ground for refusing to give up the guilty parties. Further, he threatened to destroy Long s company, which remained at the crossing of Rogue river awaiting the turn of events. He was not molested, but at a ferry south of this one, several skirmishes occurred. One party of twenty-six men was attacked June first, and an Indian killed in the encounter. On the day following, at the same place, three several parties were set upon and robbed, one of which lost four men in the skirmish.
On the third, Dr. James McBride and thirty-one men returning from the mines, were attacked in camp south of Rogue river. There were but seventeen guns in the party, while the Indians were two hundred strong, and had in addition to their bows and arrows about as many firearms. They were led by a chief known as Chucklehead, the battle commencing at daybreak and lasting four hours and a half, or until Chucklehead was killed, when the Indians withdrew. No loss of life or serious wounds were sustained by the white men, but about sixteen hundred dollars worth of property and gold dust was secured by the Indians, who it was believed lost some men who were carried off the field. Those of McBride s party who were mentioned by him for their bravery in the fight, were A. Richardson of San Jose, California, James Barlow, Captain Turpin, Jesse Dodson and son, Aaron Payne, Dillard Holman, Jesse Runnels, Presley Lovelady, and Richard Sparks of Oregon.
This affair, following on the heels of those of the first and second, showed the gravity of the situation. Oregon was threatened with another Indian war indeed it was already begun. It happened, however, that the government was just on the point of carrying out Thurston's rejection of the mounted rifle regiment, which was depart ing in divisions overland for California, and thence to Jefferson barracks, the first division having taken up the march in April, and the last, under Major Kearney, in June.
Kearney was moving slowly southward exploring for a road that should avoid the Umpqua cañon, when at the north end of the pass he was met by the information that the Rogue-river Indians were engaged in active hostilities, and were massing their fighting men at the stronghold of Table Rock, twenty miles east of the crossing of Rogue river. He pushed on with a detachment of only twenty-eight men, but a heavy rain had raised the streams on his route and otherwise impeded his progress, so that it was the seventeenth of June before he reached the river at a point five miles below Table Rock. Discovering signs of Indians, he ordered his command to fasten their sabers to their saddles, that they should not by their noise apprise the Indians of their approach, and dividing his force, sent a part of it up the south side under Captain Walker to intercept any Indians who might escape him, while the remainder, under Captain James Stuart, advanced on the north side, hoping to surprise the Indians.
He found the Indians quite prepared and expecting an attack. His men dismounted in such haste that they left their sabers tied to their saddles, and made a dash upon the enemy, killing eleven Indians and wounding others. But Captain Stuart, who was engaged in a personal contest with a large Indian, whom he finally laid prostrate, was shot through the kidneys by an arrow aimed by his fallen foe, and died the following day. Captain Peck and one of the troopers were wounded in the skirmish, which was all the loss sustained by Kearney's command. The detachment fell back, crossing the river near the mouth of a stream coming in from the south, where camp was made, and where the brave young Captain Stuart died, lamenting that it had not been his fate to have fallen in battle in Mexico and not in the wilderness by the hand of a savage. Here he was buried and the earth above him so trodden that his grave could not be discovered. From this incident in Oregon's early history Stuart creek received its name.
The Indians had fallen back to their natural fortification at Table Rock, which is a flat-topped promontory overhanging Rogue river, from which observations could be taken of the whole valley, and any approach signaled. Finding that his force was too small to attack this position, Kearney remained in camp several days, waiting for a detachment in his rear with Lieutenants Williamson and Irvine to come up, and the arrival of volunteer companies being hastily formed in the mines.
The news of the outbreak had sped as fast as horsemen could carry it to Oregon City. But Governor Gaines was powerless to send an army into the field, no provision having been made by the territorial legislature for the organization of the militia. Pie could only write to the president that troops were needed in Oregon, where Oregon's delegate had declared they were not needed. Having discharged this duty, he set out for the seat of war without even a military escort. At Applegate's place in the Umpqua valley he endeavored to raise a company which might act as escort and join the force in the field, but found that most of the men able to bear arms already gone, and was forced to wait until the last of the month before he could proceed.
In the interim, between the seventeenth and the twenty-third, Jesse Applegate, who had been with Kearney exploring for a new and better road through the Umpqua country, and ex-Governor Lane, who had just been elected delegate to congress, were in the recruiting service. Applegate had been unable to remain where Kearney had left him, and had drifted down on his crusade to the ferry on Rogue river when he met a company of miners returning from Josephine creek, and going to Yreka. To these he suggested that they might be of service in assisting the regulars and volunteers, already at that time assembling. Thirty men of this company proceeded to Willow springs, where they waited to be called on to join the regulars, or to be used to intercept the Indians, who it was thought would flee before the troops in this direction.
Lane's election being secured, he was returning to the gold fields of Shasta to look after his mining interests be fore he should set sail for Washington, and had arrived at the Umpqua canon on the twenty-first, where he first heard, from a party traveling north, of the battle of the seventeenth, and the death of Captain Stuart. With his party of about forty men he pushed on, and by the night of the twenty-second had reached the foot of Rogue-river mountains, where he was met by an express rider who informed him that Kearney would make a march that night with the intention of striking the Indians at break of day on the twenty-third.
Governed by this news he set out early on the morning of the twenty-third to join Kearney, but failed to discover him, though he rode hard all day; and the next day he fell back to Camp Stuart to wait for further intelligence. During the evening G. W. T Vault and Levi Scott, with a party from Kearney's command, came in for supplies, and with them Lane returned, riding until two o clock in the morning, his arrival being joyfully welcomed by regulars and volunteers to the army.He then learned that there had been a skirmish on the morning of the twenty-third at Table Rock, and a four hours battle in the afternoon, the Indians having the advantage of a wooded eminence where they had erected a breastwork of logs; and the attacking force the advantage of superior arms. The morning s fight had been a surprise, and lasted but a quarter of an hour, during which, says J. A. Cardwell, whose party was at Willow springs, " there was a terrible yelling and crying by the Indians, and howling of dogs."[1]
The afternoon's battle was a determined fight, in which the Indians suffered severely, and several white men were wounded. The Indians had not yet learned to shoot with accuracy with their few guns, but chief Jo boasted that he could "keep a thousand arrows in the air continually." the ping and sting of which were very annoying, even when not deadly. Further, when Kearney proposed making a treaty, the proud savages challenged him to fresh combat, for which, indeed, he had not much stomach. Chasing naked savages up and down hills and through wooded ambushes had nothing in it alluring to the fighter of real battles.
It was, however, Kearney's intention to attack the Indians again on the morning of the twenty-fifth, but when daylight came they had abandoned their fortifications and escaped down the river. The pursuit was eagerly taken up, the trail being found to cross the river seven miles below Table Rock. Following it up Sardine creek, the fugitives were overtaken, but when discovered separated; the warriors fleeing to cover in the forest, leaving their women and children to be captured and cared for by the troops, who, after scouring the country for two days, returned to Camp Stuart with thirty prisoners.During the pursuit Lane had been recognized by the chiefs, whom he had met in council the previous } r ear, who declaimed to him in stentorian tones across the river, complaining that white men on horseback had invaded their country, riding about freely everywhere; that they were afraid to lie down to sleep lest these intruding strangers should be upon them. Lane reminded them that on account of their conduct the intruders themselves enjoyed few opportunities for peaceful rest, and reproached them for breaking their treaty, on which they declared themselves tired of war and longing for peace. But Lane was no longer in his official capacity responsible for treaties, and Kearney, whose march to Benicia had so long been interrupted, would consent to no further delay, but in a few days took up the trail, carrying with him his thirty prisoners, there being no place of confinement in southern Oregon where they could be left, nor responsible men willing to escort them to the headquarters of the superintendent of Indian affairs.
He had not proceeded far when he met Lane about returning from a hasty visit to Shasta, and who, seeing Kearney's embarrassment, proposed himself to take charge of the prisoners, and deliver them either to Governor Gaines or the superintendent. This offer was gladly accepted, it being agreed that the prisoners should not be delivered up until they had consented to a permanent treaty of peace. The transferance of the captive women and children was accomplished by the aid of Lieutenant Irvine, who was attached to Williamson's topographical expedition in connection with the Pacific railroad surveys of the government, and Captain Walker of Kearney's command.
Having assumed the safe conduct of the prisoners, Lane at once proceeded north, and on the seventh of July delivered his charge to the governor, who had at last reached Rogue river, but only to find the troops gone, and not an Indian within reach. By means of the prisoners delivered to him by Lane, he induced eleven of the head men and one hundred of their followers to consent to a treaty by which the Indians agreed to submit to the jurisdiction and accept the protection of the United States, and to restore the property stolen from white people. These treaty-makers belonged to what might be called the peace party in Rogue-river Indian politics,—a party which came into power whenever the war party sustained a defeat at the hands of white people, for several years in the history of Rogue-river valley. In return for their promise of submission they received back their captive families, whom no doubt the governor was pleased to be rid of. As an Indian's word was no better than it should be, the governor, when he returned to Oregon City, recommended that an agent should be sent among them, supplemented by a small military force. Thus ended the first military campaign in Rogue-river valley.
While these affairs occupied the attention of the few white people in the interior of southern Oregon, their brethren on the coast were having also their introduction to savage hostilities.
About the first of June, the Seagull, Captain William Tichenor, looking for a port south of the Columbia river whence the mails and miners supplies might be transported to the valleys of western Oregon, put a party of nine men ashore in the bay now known as Port Orford, and there left them, intending to reënforce them on the next trip of the steamer. They were supplied with provisions and arms, and were placed on a high point sloping towards the sea, with a four-pound cannon for defense in case of attack.
While the steamer remained in port the natives appeared friendly, but when the nine men were left alone in their midst, the temptation to despoil them of whatever they possessed proved greater than could be borne. At the end of two days they collected in force, held a war dance, and advanced upon the temporary fortification. In vain the captain of the little company, J. M. Kirkpatrick, by expressive gestures, motioned them away, and even threatened them. They were unacquainted with firearms, and relied upon numbers, so they kept on crowding up the slope, and becoming every moment more annoying, until finally they began seizing the arms of the men. At this motion Kirkpatrick touched off the cannon, which made a vacancy where before had been a crowd, and created a panic where before had been boasting. A few arrows were let fly, but the besieged, by firing with sure aim, succeeded in bringing to the ground several warriors, after which they fought hand to hand with clubbed guns. This energetic reception convinced the attacking party that more "medicine" would be required before they could subdue the nine white strangers, and they retired, but only to reappear after a day or two to hold another war dance.
Upon reviewing their numbers and their situation, without the hope of reënforcement for some time, and with an insufficient supply of ammunition for a protracted siege, the unanimous opinion of the Port Orford company was that flight would give them a chance for their lives, while to remain was to yield up all hope, as the savages would finally conquer by mere numbers and persistence. They therefore quietly abandoned the place, and by traveling nights along the beach, and hiding in the woods by day, reached the settlements near the mouth of the Umpqua river, famished, suffering, and exhausted, where they were kindly cared for.
When Captain Tichenor returned to Port Orford with a company of forty settlers, finding the place deserted, and giving evidences of a hard struggle, he was greatly alarmed. His alarm became conviction, when an unfinished diary, picked up on the ground where the camp of the first party had stood, was found to contain an interrupted account of a battle with the Indians. The supposed massacre of the party was published in California and Oregon, and much excitement followed. The reënforcement remained, however, and was farther increased until the Port Orford settlers numbered seventy, well armed, and able 1o repulse Indian assaults.
In August the whole colony felt itself strong enough to venture upon an exploring expedition to discover the desired route to the mines and settlements in the interior, and a party of twenty-three men, led by W. G. T Vault, who had recently been in southern Oregon, set out upon this service on the twenty-fourth of the month, with horses and pack animals. Their course lay south to Rogue river. During the march the natives they met were few and shy, until they came to the river, when they made some hostile demonstrations, but were intimidated by seeing guns pointed at them into keeping a safe distance. By care in selecting camping grounds, burning off the high grass for some distance about them, and doubling guard, the party avoided a collision with the savages.
On the first of September, a majority of the company being wearied and dissatisfied with the outlook, determined to abandon the expedition and return to Port Orford; only ten men, including their leader, being resolved to go forward. After nine days of wandering, misled by the northward trend of the ridges they were compelled to follow, they found themselves on the head waters of a stream apparently debouching to the north of Point Orford, and therefore probably the Coquille.
Worn with travel, with only one hunter in the party, on whose success depended their subsistence, and their horses being unable to penetrate the jungle of the river bottom, it was decided that the only course remaining to them was to trust themselves to the Indian canoes with their native owners. Abandoning their horses they secured the services of some natives and their canoes, to take them to the mouth of the river. Instead of doing what was expected of them, the Indians landed the party at the Coquille village whose inhabitants seemed to be awaiting them, for no sooner were the canoes run on to the sands than their occupants were surrounded and fighting for the possession of their arms and lives. Hundreds of naked warriors, armed with bows and arrows, war clubs, and long knives made of band iron from a wrecked vessel,[2] assailed them on every side.
The assault was so sudden, and attended with such con fusion of sounds, yells, cries, and blows that defense was nearly impossible. T'Vault afterwards said that the first thing he was aware of was that he was in the river swimming. Not far from him was one of his men, Gilbert Brush, an Indian in a canoe standing over him, and beating his head with a paddle, the water about him being crimsoned with blood.
While he looked he saw a canoe shoot out from shore, in which stood an Indian boy who beat off Brush s tor m enter and assisted the wounded man into his boat; then picking up T'Vault, handed him his paddle, and flinging himself into the water, swam back to the village. T'Vault and Brush on landing divested themselves of their sodden clothing,[3] and plunged into the forest. T'Vault was not badly wounded, but Brush was partly scalped and very much bruised. They were on the south side of the river, and their hope was in reaching Port Orford. By traveling all night along the beach they came to Cape Blanco, where the natives received them in a friendly manner, protecting and feeding them and conveying them in their canoes to Port Orford.
As to the remainder of the ill-fated party, five were mas sacred and three escaped. L. L. Williams of Vermont, a pioneer of Ashland; T. J. Davenport, then a young man from Massachusetts, and Cyrus Hedden from Newark, New Jersey, were the survivors. Patrick Murphy of New York, A. S. Dougherty of Texas, John P. Holland of New Hampshire, Jeremiah Ryland of Maryland, and J. P. Pepper of New York, were the victims.[4] The three who escaped made their way to the Umpqua, where they were kindly cared for,[5] making the third party, which, wounded and famished, had reached this settlement during the summer from the south.[6]
The persons interested in Port Orford continued to explore for some time, vainly, for a road to the interior, and to represent the superior advantages of the harbor, being aided in their .enterprise by the reports of government officials, who knew very little about the merits of the place which received their endorsement. Such influences were brought to bear upon the commander of the Pacific division, that, with Kearney's account of Indian affairs in Rogue-river valley, he was persuaded to with draw Lieutenant Kantz with his company of twenty men stationed at Astoria, where they were of no service, and send them to Port Orford, which was ignorantly supposed to be a proper location for a garrison to hold in check the Indians of the valley. It was even represented to General Hitchcock that the distance from Port Orford to Camp Stuart was only thirty-five miles, whereas it was more nearly eighty in a direct line, the necessary meanderings making it about one hundred.
So far, then, as Kantz's command could be of use to the miners, it was none; nor was it large enough to be of use anywhere in an Indian country, except as a sample of what might be sometime furnished in a larger quantity. By the steamer Seagull, which left Portland September twelfth, at which time T'Vault's party was wandering in the forest on the head waters of the Coquille, the superintendent of Indian affairs, with his agents, Parrish and Spalding, took passage for Port Orford with the intention of making a treaty with the coast tribes. They arrived on the fourteenth, the day on which the massacre on the Coquille river took place, and two days afterwards T Vault and Brush made their appearance with the story of their misfortunes and marvelous escape through the compassion of the Cape Blanco natives.
The superintendent found himself in an embarrassing position. He had come to treat for peace and friendship, to sue for which under the circumstances was to humiliate the people he represented. Nor was he able to appear in the role of an avenger, with only a squad of twenty men under a young lieutenant at his back. In this dilemma he found Parrish, who had a better knowledge of Indian character than himself, a valuable assistant. The Cape Blanco Indians were by him persuaded to undertake finding out what had been the fate of the missing members of T'Vault's party. To accomplish this two Indian women were sent on a visit to the Coquilles, who succeeded in learning the particulars of the affair, and who buried the bodies of the five men who were killed at the village. It was believed by them that some had escaped alive.
Several days were spent in considering what was best to be done, and, at length, on the twenty-second of September, Parrish set out for the Coquille, accompanied only by a man of the Tototem tribe on the Columbia river, who had been stolen from the Coquilles when a child. An escort which was offered was rejected. Says Parrish: "I said to Dr. Dart, I want nothing but this Coquille Indian, a pony, ten pounds of bread, some salmon, three brilliant red blankets, thirty yards of calico of the gayest colors, and some tobacco.'"[7]
Arriving on the evening of the second day near the mouth of the Coquille, he fell in with one of the tribe, and found that his interpreter had not forgotten his native tongue. Remaining on the beach he sent his interpreter with the Indian to the Coquille village, telling him to spend the night there if he chose, but to invite the three principal chiefs to visit his camp at nine o clock the next morning, unarmed, at the same time presenting each of them with a red blanket, a square of calico, and some tobacco.
As he had hoped, these gifts were sufficient to induce the chiefs to meet him, and they were received with a hand-shake and a present of more tobacco. But they had no sooner concluded the ceremonials of greeting than twenty or more stalwart fellows appeared, armed with bows and arrows, and the long knives before mentioned, the interpreter conducting them. It looked like treachery, and gave the agent a few quicker heart-beats, but he subdued any tendency to nervousness, and giving his hand to each, with a little tobacco, invited them to be seated in a circle, in the middle of which he placed himself and his interpreter.
Two hours were spent in explaining to them his purpose in coming to them, which was to make them the friends of the white people at Port Orford, who had established themselves there with the intention of remaining. He, as representative of the Port Orford people, had come to talk with them, and would be glad if some of them would return with him, and see his friends for themselves. At first it seemed as if a few would go, but their hearts failing them they finally withdrew their consent. A feast of boiled salmon and bread was next resorted to; after which pieces of calico were given to each warrior, and a red silk sash from Parrish s own person to the head chief, who, in return, presented as a token of friendship a sea-otter skin. But he was unable to induce any of the Coquilles to put themselves in the power of the white people. Thus failed the first attempt to treat with the Coquilles.
Before leaving Oregon City for Port Orford, Superintendent Dart had, on learning that the informal treaty made by Governor Gaines with the Rogue-rivers had been violated, a number of murders and robberies having been committed, sent word to these Indians to meet him at Port Orford. Now, if there is one thing more than another that an Indian will not do, it is to invade the territory of a neighboring tribe with whom he is not allied, except for purposes of hostility, and that Dart should have known. That he did not know the distance or the difficulty of communication was not singular, when it is remembered that the Port Orford company published it as thirty-five miles. However that may be, the Indians were more irritated than tranquilized by the superintendent s message to them. The whole number of murders committed by the Rogue-rivers during the summer of 1851 was thirty-eight, and the property taken was very considerable in amount. A. A. Skinner, who, after the abolishment of the treaty commission, was retained as Indian agent, held conferences with different bauds in the Rogue-river country and secured professions of friendship by making presents, but that was all.
When General Hitchcock received information in September of the massacre on the Coquille, he ordered a military force transferred to Port Orford. This force consisted of companies E and A, first dragoons, dismounted, and company C with their horses. It was officered by Lieutenant-Colonel Casey of the second infantry, and Lieutenants Stanton, Thomas Wright, and George Stoneman. The dismounted men arrived at Port Orford October twenty-second, and the mounted company on the twenty-seventh. Their errand was to punish the Coquilles. On the thirty-first, they commenced their march to the mouth of the Coquille, finding the greatest difficulty in getting horses, baggage, and even men over the rough and slippery trail along the beach, but arriving at the river on the third of November, guided by Brush, survivor of the massacre. Camp was made, and preparations entered into for a campaign.
The two forces fired at each other across the river without doing any harm; and as soon as a raft could be constructed, which was not until the seventh, the main body of the troops crossed to the north side, Colonel Casey with Stanton and the mounted men remaining on the south side. In this order they proceeded up the valley of the Coquille in a cold rain, pursuing as best they might the ever elusive enemy, marching for several days alternately through swamps and over wooded hills, scrambling through thickets by day, and lying down in wet blankets by night, finding nothing on their route but deserted villages on which to wreck their constantly accumulating wrath, and which they made a point of destroying.
After a few days of this useless pursuing, Casey returned to the mouth of the river, and changed the plan of his operations. He sent to Port Orford for three small boats, which were brought overland. Into these he crowded sixty men, so packed together that if they had met the enemy they could not have used their arms. But no enemy appeared while the flotilla proceeded for four days up the river to the junction of the north and south forks, where, on the twentieth, the weather remaining very inclement and the current in the river being strong, the troops were disembarked.
On the twenty-first, Stoneman was detailed to proceed up the south branch with one boat and fourteen men, and Wright with a similar force was sent up the north branch. About seven miles up the south fork the Indians were discovered in force on both banks. After firing a few shots Stoneman returned and reported their position. Wright, who had found no Indians, although he had penetrated much further into the wilderness, also returned to camp; and on the twenty-second the united forces set out for the Indian encampment, the troops marching up the right bank, two boats only with ten men preceding them. Great caution was observed, one company crossing to the left bank half a mile below the village, and all advancing in silence to the point of attack. To surprise an Indian camp which had been notified of the neighborhood of an enemy was an impossibility. The boats, however, served as a decoy, and the Indians were gathered on the bank of the stream to oppose the landing of the white men, as was expected, when Casey and Wright dashed among them. Stoneman, from the opposite shore, was employed in picking off those who could be reached, and for about twenty minutes the battle raged hotly, fifteen Indians being killed, and many wounded. The reports of the affair make no mention of any white men killed or injured.[9] The Indians fled to the woods, and the troops returned to camp at the mouth of the river, and after a few days to Port Orford, where a garrison was erected of log buildings about half a mile from the town. Early in December Casey's command returned by sea to San Francisco, and the government had a bill of twenty-five thousand dollars to pay, for moving troops, horses, and supplies by the steamers of the Pacific Mail Company, was a costly affair in 1851.
In January, 1852, however, the schooner Captain Lincoln, Naghel master, was chartered to carry troops, under Lieutenant Stanton, and military stores to supply the new post called Fort Orford. A heavy fog prevailing, the vessel went ashore on a sandy point two miles north of the entrance to Coos bay, where by good fortune the troops and cargo were safely landed, if it could be supposed that a mere wind-swept sandspit was land. The men contrived to shelter themselves under sails stretched on booms and spars, where they spent four months guarding the stores from the pilfering fingers of the natives who found entrance to "Camp Castaway."
An effort was immediately made to explore a trail to Fort Orford, over which a pack train could be sent to their relief, twelve dragoons being assigned to this duty. The detachment carried dispatches for San Francisco, and was instructed to wait at Fort Orford for the answer; but the captain of the mail steamer, which carried the answer, and also Quartermaster Miller, under an agreement to stop at Port Orford, being new to the coast mistook Rogue river entrance for this port, and being alarmed at his error, proceeded direct to the Columbia with the quartermaster, who did not reach his destination until the twelfth of April. He then took a train of mules from Port Orford to Camp Castaway over the trail opened in January, and which was found to be a most trying one, consuming four days in the fifty miles of travel.
Miller proceeded to the Umpqua, where he found the schooner Nassau, which he chartered, and brought round to Coos bay, this being the first vessel to enter this harbor. The brig Fawn soon after arrived at the Umpqua with wagons for the quartermaster s department, and the mules were sent to haul them down the beach to Camp Castaway, where they were loaded with the shipwrecked cargo, which was thus transported across some miles of sand dunes to Coos bay and taken on board the Nassau for Port Orford, where they arrived May twentieth. Such were some of the difficulties of Indian warfare in this wild region of perilous coast, rough and steep hills, forests and morasses, interspersed with spots of Eden-like beauty.
It is only necessary to add to this picture of the situation that no road to the valley was yet opened. But, on finding that dragoons could be of no service in the Coquille county, Casey detached Stanton from his command to escort Lieutenant Williamson of the topographical engineers in the winter of 1851–52, while exploring for a practicable route; and in the autumn of the latter year one was surveyed out and opened. In the meantime, Fort Orford was garrisoned by twelve dragoons under Lieutenant Stanton and twenty artillerymen under Lieutenant Wyman, neither of any use in pursuing Indians in the coast mountains, had their numbers been sufficient; and utterly useless to protect miners or settlers in the interior.
A more intimate acquaintance had not led to a feeling of confidence between the white and red races in southern Oregon. The conditions of Indian warfare here were somewhat different from those of the Cayuse war. Less intelligent than the Cayuses, they were not less brave. Having nothing of their own, they were the more covetous of the possessions of others. Lacking a knowledge of any law, human or divine, except the law implanted by nature in the beginning of people "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," they were quick to find offenses and ready to avenge them. Without feeling under moral obligations to keep faith with others, they were ready to resent any appearance of duplicity in the superior race, of whom they were unavoidably jealous. On the other hand, the human nature in white men was apt to come to the surface after a few losses of property, or of friends, or both. Therefore, the peace which had been purchased with presents by agent Skinner in the autumn of 1851 was not lasting.
The Shasta and Rogue-river Indians were one nation, divided under several chiefs, whose followers ranged certain districts. For instance, Tolo was the head of the band living in the country about Yreka; Scarface and Bill in Shasta valley; John in Scott valley, arid Sam and Jo in Rogue-river valley, John s father having once been head chief over all. There were besides these, two chiefs living at the foot of the Siskiyous, on the north side, namely, Tipso, or the "Hairy," from his having a heavily bearded face, and Sullix, the "Bad Tempered." Both of these chiefs were very hostile to white men, and even fought other bands of their own nation.
Troubles began on the north side of Rogue river by the robbery of a citizen of the Wallamet valley in the Grave creek hills. Then came an attack on a party of five prospectors led by James Coy, at the mouth of Josephine creek in the Illinois valley. One man escaped from camp, and fled to Jacksonville for aid, while the remaining four defended a slight fortification for two days, or until a party of thirty-five miners came to their relief. These prospectors had discovered the remains of recently murdered men before they were attacked. This was in April.
On the eighth of April, Calvin Woodman was murdered by Scarface, on a tributary of the Klamath. The miners and settlers of Shasta and Scott valleys arrested John, the head chief, and demanded the surrender of Scarface, and of Bill as accessory, but John refused and escaped. The miners then organized, and in a fight with the Indians which ensued, the sheriff was wounded and several horses killed. This collision did not tend to mend matters, and the Indians commenced moving their families to the mountains on Salmon river, in preparation for hostilities.
At this critical juncture, Mr. Elisha Steele, who was well known to the Indians, and had, like Lane, a remarkable ability to gain their confidence, so much so that they called him "Jo Lane's Brother," happened to arrive from Yreka at Johnson's rancho, in Scott valley, where he found a company of miners from Scott bar, who had been unsuccessfully pursuing the murderers of Woodman.
Concerned for the safety of Johnson's family should the Indians break out into general warfare, Steele collected the Indians in Scott valley, and held a council with Tolo, his son Philip, and John, with three of his brothers, one of whom was known as Jim. These professed to desire peace, and offered to accompany Steele in search of the murderers. A party was made up, namely, Steele, John McLeod, James Bruce, James White, John Galvin, Peter Snellback, and a lad called Harry. These were joined at Shasta canon by J. D. Cook, F. W. Merritt, L. S. Thompson, and Ben Wright, who acted as interpreter.
Proceeding to Yreka to procure the necessary order for the arrest of Scarface and Bill, Steele had some difficulty to prevent the citizens from executing vengeance on the the Indians with him; but having obtained the papers required, finally led his party safely away. A two days' march brought them to the stronghold of the criminals, who had prepared for just such a visit as this by fleeing to the jurisdiction of Sam on Rogue river, Sam having already declared war.
The casus belli of this chief combined two accusations against Dr. Ambrose, a settler; first, that the doctor had taken the land which he habitually occupied with his people for a winter residence; and, second, that the doctor refused to betroth his infant daughter to Sam's infant son.
On learning these facts, Tolo, Philip, and Jim withdrew from Steele's party, but substituted two young warriors, who were pledged either to find the murderers or to suffer in their stead. The company then divided, a party under Ben Wright going to the mines on the Klamath river, and Steele to Rogue river. He received confirmation of the war rumor while crossing the Siskiyou from two of Sam's warriors whom the party captured, one of whom was shot in attempting to escape, under the following circumstances: When rumors of murder and Sam's declaration of war reached Jacksonville, a company of seventy-five or eighty men was organized under John K. Lamerick, captain. On hearing of this the agent, Skinner, hastened to remonstrate, and obtained a promise from the volunteers that time should be given him to hold a parley with the Indians. A committee of four was appointed to accompany the agent, who found Sam at his encampment on Big bar, two miles from the house of Dr. Ambrose, and near the site of Camp Stuart. He made no objection to meet Skinner, and declared himself for peace, but proposed to send for Jo and his band, who could not arrive before the morrow. To this proposition Skinner and the committee agreed.
Before the meeting took place, Steele arrived at Jacksonville to demand of Sam the surrender of Scarface and Bill; and Skinner agreed to make the delivery of the criminals one of the conditions of peace, but confessed that the situation was critical. At the time appointed, Skinner and Steele, with their respective parties, and the volunteers under Lamerick, repaired to Big bar, where they found the Indians as agreed. A message was sent to Sam by one of Steele's Shastas, asking him to meet the white men on their side of the river, bringing with him Jo and a body guard of a few warriors, with which request he complied after some parleying; but on seeing the volunteers mounted and drawn up in line, hesitated to meet them. Skinner, to reassure him, ordered the volunteers to dismount and stack arms, which was done.
Now ensued a conflict of judgment between Skinner, who was an authorized agent on his own ground, and Steele, who held no commission, and who was there to arrest Indians belonging on the south side of the Siskiyou. The Shasta, whom Steele had sent to Sam s camp, reported that the murderers were there, and Steele demanded their immediate arrest. But Skinner, fearing to bring on a battle, opposed it. Sam also refused to negotiate until the two Rogue-rivers captured by Steele on the mountains were released. An altercation then took place between the principals in the council. Skinner, at last addressing the prisoners, informed them that he was their white chief, and that he restored them to liberty. Steele, on the other hand, warned them if they accepted liberty and attempted to escape they would be shot, and stationed his men so as to form a guard, and to prevent a rescue, should a surprise be planned by the Indians.
As the council proceeded, a hundred armed Indians crossed the river, moving about freely among the unarmed white men, which caused the volunteers to resume their weapons. The council under these circumstances could only be a failure. Sam had never meant to enter into a treaty which should be binding on him; Steele was justified, in his own view, in holding as hostages the two Rogue-rivers until the murderers were surrendered; and Skinner being a peace man, whose duty it was to prevent war, was forced to make concessions which in the end might be damaging to his own cause; and finally Sam declared that the murderers would not be given up.
Pretending that he wished to consult with some of his people, the chief obtained leave to withdraw from the council and recross the river. Once on the further shore he shouted back his defiance and refused to return. The volunteer force then divided, half, under Lamerick, going to a ford above, and the other part going below Big bar, prepared to cross and attack Sam s camp should any hostile demonstrations be made on the council ground, where Steele s party with Skinner and the crowd of Indians remained.
Skinner, fearing an outbreak and anxious to prevent it, followed the chief to the north side of the river, about half the Indians on the council ground also returning. Steele, becoming alarmed for the agent s safety, then placed a guard at the crossing to detain those still on the south side from rejoining their fellows, and sent one of his Shastas to warn him; and although Skinner was aware that the messenger could point out to him the guilty Indians, he would not allow him to do it, fearing the movement would precipitate bloodshed.
The agent had only just reached camp when it was reported that Scarface with two others were seen fleeing in the direction of Klamath, and a commotion arose which alarmed the Indians and caused them to seek the cover of a piece of woodland in the vicinity as if for a skirmish. Alarmed in their turn, Steele s party hastened to a position to intercept them, and an encounter appeared imminent, when Martin Angell, a settler, formerly of the Wallamet valley, where he was well known and respected, proposed to the Indians thus situated, numbering about fifty, to lay down their arms and take shelter in a log house in the vicinity, where they should be kept as hostages until the murderers were given up to be tried. They assented, but as soon as they had filed past Steele's party they made a dash to gain the cover of the woods. To allow them this advantage would be to expose themselves to a fire they could not return, and with only an instant s delay the order was given to attack.
The tocsin of war had now sounded. The Indians were well armed and ready for a fight, and the white men were determined, if fight they must, to conquer. When Lamerick's company heard the firing they were still at the fords, some distance away. Leaving a minority of his men to guard the crossing of the river, Lamerick rode up the valley to warn the settlers, going first to the house of Dr. Ambrose, which he feared would be attacked.
The battle was of short duration. The Indians made a charge with the design of liberating Steele s prisoners, who ran towards the river. One was shot before he reached the river, and the other as he climbed up the opposite bank. Sam then sent a detachment of his warriors to the south side to cut off Steele; but they were surprised by one from the volunteers, and several shot as they sprang into the water, the reports varying from four to sixteen, according to the motive of the narrator, as well as his greater or less knowledge of events. Only one white man was wounded, and he slightly. In the fighting Skinner had taken no part, but had retired to his residence, which he proceeded to fortify. This skirmish occurred July nineteenth.
News was received in the evening that during the council a party of Sam s people had gone to a bar down the river and murdered a small company of miners. Lamerick at once prepared to cross the river and take up a position in the pass between Table Rock and the river, while Steele moved further up to turn the Indians back on Lamerick's force in the morning. The movement was entirely successful, the Indians being surrounded, and the chief compelled to sue for peace, offering to accept the terms proposed the day before, namely, to surrender the murderers.
Agent Skinner was notified, and a council arranged for the following day. In the conference it was shown that Scarface had not been with Sam, but that the person mistaken for him was Sullix of Tipso's band, who also had a countenance made hideous with scars, and that the real Scarface was hiding in the Salmon-river mountains. He was ultimately arrested and hanged at Yreka.[10] As for Sullix, he had received a severe wound in the fight of the nineteenth, and was now more ugly than before.
The treaty which Skinner ultimately was able to make with Sam and his people, required the Rogue-rivers, among other things, to hold no communication with the Shastas. It is doubtful if this part of the treaty was very strictly kept, but to keep it in part tended to the prevention of mischief. An occasional present of a fat ox also contributed to the general peace of the community, and was easier for the agent than treaty making at the muzzle of a gun. The number of murders committed by Indians of the Rogue-river bands in 1852 were only about half those of the previous year, say eighteen that were certainly known, and a few others suspected.
In all the councils with the Indians they had been told that the United States government would ratify the treaties made, and pay for their lands in property, instruction, protection, and money. What was then the mortification and anxiety of these servants of the people when the superintendent of Indian affairs, soon after the treaty with the Rogue-rivers, received notice that all the treaties negotiated in Oregon had been ordered to lie upon the table in the senate, and was instructed to enter into no more, except such as were imperatively required to preserve peace. The government wanted time to define its policy. Dart, in December, sent in his resignation to take effect the fol lowing June.
Early in 1852, Lane, as delegate to congress, was doingall that he could to secure military protection for the im migration to Oregon. Pie was met with the reply that his predecessor, Thurston, had declared the mounted rifle regiment unnecessary; and had combated the idea with statements and arguments founded upon the changed con dition of the country, but especially upon the helplessness of immigrants hundreds of miles from any military post, and burdened with the care of families and property. His eloquence was strengthened by the citation of the outrages of 1851 on the Snake river plains.
The immigration of 1852 by this route was very large and well equipped, and perhaps for this reason was suffered to pass with less bloodshed than might have been anticipated, though there was much annoyance from pilferings, and horse stealing. But the immigration by the southern route was less favored. This road ran through the lake country, where, in 1843, Frémont's camp was attacked, and where Captain W. H. Warner in 1849 was murdered while surveying for a Pacific railroad. Parties traveling through this region were compelled to exercise extreme care, particularly at a pass now known as Bloody Point, where the road ran between an overhanging cliff and the waters of Tule lake. The immigration of 1851 had been attacked at this place, but from the fact that these Indians had not yet learned to expect an annual transit of white people through their country, they were not prepared for the work of robbery and murder which was accomplished in 1852, when between sixty and one hundred men, women, and children died at their hands, and a large amount of property was stolen or destroyed.
It will be remembered that Ben Wright left Steele's party en route to Jacksonville to go to the Klamath, presumably to Yreka. On arriving there he met a party of sixty male immigrants, the advance of the larger number on the road, who reported that they had not been molested, but that there were many companies on the road, some of them with families, and that the Indians were burning signal fires on the mountains, which boded no good to travelers.
On this report, Charles McDermit of Yreka raised a company of between thirty and forty volunteers, to meet and escort immigrant parties over the most dangerous portion of the road through the Modoc country. At Tule lake the volunteers met another company of male immigrants, going to Yreka and with them sent back two men, named Smith and Toland, to act as guides and guards. This party was attacked, and Smith and Toland wounded, but the discharge of a rifle happening to take off the top of an Indian s head, so excited the savages for a few moments that the white men made their escape.
The next party to reach the Tule lake portion of the road was led by J. C. Tolman, who has since been a candidate for governor of Oregon. It consisted of about twenty poorly armed men, five of them with families, and ten wagons. They found McDermit's company on the west shore of Goose lake, and were warned of the danger ahead, two of the volunteers accompanying them as guides. On coming to the high hill one mile east of the south end of Tule lake on the nineteenth of August, no Indians being in sight, the guides, having in mind James Bridger s caution, "When there are no Indians in sight, then look out," decided to avoid a probable ambush by taking a northerly course across a sagebrush flat. The women and children were placed in the wagons, and the covers fastened down to hide them from view, while the few firearms were made ready for use.
In this manner the company had nearly reached the open valley when the yells of Indians in pursuit discovered to them that spies had betrayed them to those in concealment. By making all the speed possible, open ground was reached just as a shower of arrows whizzed through the air; but on seeing several rifles leveled upon them, the Modocs were intimidated and withdrew to the shelter of the rocks, appearing again on a high ridge, gesticulating and uttering demoniacal cries expressive of their rage and disappointment.
Seeing that they were working themselves up to a fighting pitch, and would probably attack at some other point, it was thought best to return and hold a talk. Acting on this plan, the wagons were corraled, and Tolman with a half a dozen others, making a great show of arms, went back to within speaking distance, and challenged them through one of the guides who could speak the jargon, to come and fight. Like all people who practice treachery they feared it, and not knowing what might be inside the wagon covers declined; but the head chief proposed to meet the interpreter unarmed and talk with him.
While the interview was progressing at a safe distance apart of the interlocutors, it was observed by Mr. Tolman that every now and then a Modoc had tied his bow to his toe, secreted his arrows, and pretending to be disarmed, joined the chief. The interpreter, on being warned, ordered the Indians sent back, and the chief seeing no opportunity for obtaining an advantage, agreed to return whence he came, and leave the party to pursue its way unmolested. It had not proceeded far, however, before it discovered a reserve of Indians mounted, who had been placed where they could intercept any persons escaping from the narrow pass along Tule lake. Finding themselves outwitted, they also retired, hoping for better luck next time. Camp was made that night fifteen miles from Tule lake, and a severe cold rainstorm prevented a night attack, which, being reserved till the morning, was averted by a very early start of the train.
On the twenty-third of August, at nine o clock in the evening, Tolman s camp was visited by a man on a poor and jaded horse, whose condition excited the utmost pity in all hearts. He had to be lifted from his horse and fed and nursed back to life before he could give any account of himself. It then appeared that he belonged to a party of eight men who had been surprised by the Modocs, and all killed except himself. His horse being shot, he sprang upon another, which ran with him, carrying him until it fell exhausted, several miles up the valley of Lost river. From here the man, whose mind was evidently unsettled by the shock he had received, wandered to Klamath lake, but seeing an Indian turned back, and the next day dis covered his horse feeding, which he remounted and rode, without getting down, for three days, and until he came to Tolman's camp. He had eaten nothing, but had tied up a handful of rosebuds in his handkerchief, as he "expected to be out all winter, and should need them." This demented creature was taken by the company to Yreka, where his story, in connection with the report of Tolman and the guides, of the dangers of the Modoc country, led to the organization of a second company of volunteers.
A meeting was called on the evening of the twenty-fourth of August, at which means to put the men in the field was subscribed by the citizens and miners, and Ben Wright was chosen captain. He was at that time mining on Cotton wood creek, twenty miles distant, but by daylight was in Yreka, surrounded by men eager alike to prevent carnage, or to avenge it by spending more blood. A peculiar enthusiasm was imparted to volunteering by the fact that Tolman's train was the first to arrive with women and children, the homeless miners having their minds harrowed by the suggestion of what might have been the fate of these but for the warning and guidance given by McDermit's company, and what might, even after all, befall others on some part of the route.
Three days were consumed in getting together the equipment of men and horses, with provision wagons, and every thing necessary; and on the sixth day after the meeting in Yreka, Wright reached Tule lake just in time to rescue a train that was surrounded and fighting the Modocs, two men being wounded. The sight of Wright s company advancing sent the savages into places of concealment among the tules, and on an island in the lake, and equally alarmed the immigrants, who mistook them for mounted Indians, and prepared for a yet more desperate encounter. But their fears were changed to joy when Wright, discovering their alarm, rode forward alone. This train was escorted beyond danger, and the company returned to learn what had taken place in the Modoc country.
Wright found the mutilated bodies of the eight men before mentioned, with those of three of his acquaintances, members of McDermit's company, who had been sent to guide trains, and conclusive evidences that no party or train had escaped destruction which had entered the fatal pass of Bloody Point since the nineteenth.
Filled with rage and grief, Wright and his men made haste to attack the Indians in their stronghold. To do this they had to wade in water among the tules that was up to their armpits, and fight the Modocs concealed in ambuscades constructed of tules, having portholes. Such was the vigor of their charge, however, that the ambuscades were quickly depopulated, and thirty or more Modocs killed while escaping to the rocky island in the lake.
After this battle, Wright proceeded east to Clear lake, where he met a large party of immigrants and planned a stratagem to draw the Indians out of their strong position on the island. He unloaded several ox wagons, filled them with armed men, a few of whom were clothed in women's apparel, tied down the wagon covers and instructed the men to proceed in the usual careless and loitering way of true immigrants along the dangerous pass. But the Indians either had out spies who reported the trick, or were too severely punished to feel like attacking white men, and remained in their fastnesses.
Wright then went to Yreka and had boats built with which to reach the island, spending the time of waiting in patroling the road through the Modoc country. In the meantime, accounts of the massacres had reached Jacksonville, and another company, commanded by John E. Ross of that place, proceeded to the Modoc country, where it remained on the road until the season of travel was past. On the arrival of Ross, Wright returned to Yreka for supplies, and to bring out his boats. But he was unable to reach the Indians, who retreated to the lava beds, since made famous by the Modoc war, inaccessible then, as now, to white men.
That which Wright did find were the proofs that many, very many, persons, including women and children, had been cruelly tortured and butchered. Here again the men of his company, some of whom had families two or three thousand miles away, burst forth into tears of rage at the sight of women s dresses and babies socks among the property plundered from the owners. Where, now, were the men and women who had toiled over these thousands of miles to meet their fate at this place? Where the prattling babes whose innocent feet fitted the tiny socks? Even their bones were undiscoverable, but the proofs that they had lived and died were heaped up in the wickiups of their cruel slayers.
The next attempt of Wright, who seems to have remained behind the other companies, was to make a treaty with the Modocs. However much he may have desired to have seen them exterminated, or even to have helped exterminate them, the safety of all who passed through their country demanded that peace should be secured. From two captured, one of whom was wrapped in a cradle quilt, he learned that two white women were captives among the Modocs, and for this reason also he felt it necessary to enter into negotiations with them.
Wright, like Lane, had for a servant an Indian boy, who was part Modoc, and spoke their language. Using this boy as an ambassador, he finally persuaded four of the head men to visit his camp, with the purpose of discussing the terms of a treaty, his proposition being that if they would bring in the two captives, and the stock taken from the immigrants, he would leave their country and trouble them no more; or, if they wished, he would trade with them for their furs and feathers. To this the chiefs gave their assent, and while one was sent to fetch the women and the property, the other three were detained as hostages. Wright s company had by this time dwindled to eighteen men. When the chief returned to his camp, instead of bringing with him the captive women and the stolen stock, he brought only a few broken down horses and a shotgun; but he was accompanied by forty-five warriors. When remonstrated with for this violation of his pledge, he replied that Wright had required three hostages, and now, his men greatly outnumbering Wright's he should hold him and his company as hostages for the good conduct of the white people. The place where Wright was encamped was near the stone ford of Lost river, on the north side, the Modocs encamping on the same side. The situation was critical, it being plain that a net was spread for him which would surely close about him unless he met the danger with a desperate measure. The order issued for the night was for six men at midnight to silently cross the ford, a natural bridge at this season of the year,— and hide themselves in the artemisia which covered the plain. At the firing of a signal gun in the dawning they were to attack simultaneously the Indians who lay between them. The order was scrupulously obeyed, the men rushing upon the surprised Indians at the crack of Wright's gun, finishing the fight with their pistols. In twenty minutes the battle was over, and forty Indians lay slain. Wright had four men wounded, who were carried on litters made of guns lashed together fifteen miles, and an express sent to Yreka for aid. On the return of the company to that place—thin, sun-browned, and nearly naked—they were received with bonfires and banquets. The only regret felt was that the two captive women were left to the fiendish cruelty which no one doubted would end their lives before they could be rescued. As a matter of fact, they never were seen alive, but years after their bleaching bones were pointed out by the Indians to curious investigators of Indian history. Wright seems to have had enemies or rivals who strove to dim his popularity by a story of poisoning the Indians invited to a council. The tale had little to recommend it to belief had it never been denied by the most prominent citizens of Yreka, who were members of his company. It was seized upon by the regular army and reported by General Wool as a fact, the stigma of which is hardly yet removed from his name. Yet the story disproves itself, for he is represented as purchasing the strychnine for a feast to the Indians at the time he was in Yreka with the purpose of procuring boats to pursue them into their hiding places with arms. It was long after the failure of this attempt that a council was pro posed with a specific purpose as above related, and although beef was given the Indians, as is the custom of treaty makers, it was the same as that eaten by the company, if we may trust the word of honorable men who were partakers.[11]
Says Tolman, who was well informed concerning these events, "If the Modocs had not been confident of getting the advantage, they would never have left their cave." He further says that Wright's boy had betrayed him, and the Modocs had come prepared to fight, and that had he wavered for a moment his own life and that of all his company would have paid for his indecision.
Oregon had been organized into a territory of the United States for over four years, and was still fighting her own battles. But in September of this year there arrived at Vancouver the skeleton of the fourth United States infantry, consisting of two hundred and sixty-eight men, rank and file, under Lieutenant-Colonel Bonneville. The regiment had been decimated by sickness on the Isthmus, and was still unfit for service had not the season been too late to do more than arrange their quarters for the winter. The following chapter will show the value of their arms.
- ↑ This account is taken from a dictation by J. A. Cardwell of Ashland, and from letters by General Lane and Jesse Applegate. The names of Waldo, Boone, Lamerick, Armstrong, Hunter, Rust, Blanchard, Simonson, Scott, and Colonel Tranor appear in these letters. Tranor was James W. of New Orleans, a brilliant writer, who was killed by Indians on Pit river at a later date.
- ↑ The Hagstaff, wrecked in Rogue river.
- ↑ In T'Vault's account he does not tell us why he left off his clothing—whether as a bribe to the Indians not to pursue them, or because they were heavy with water, probably the latter.
- ↑ Alta Californian, October 14, 1851.
- ↑ Williams' narrative of his flight and plight exceeds in interest the famous one of Samuel Coulter. He was attacked as he stepped ashore by two powerful savages, who endeavored to seize his rifle. This being accidentally discharged frightened them away for a moment, giving him an opportunity to attempt to force his way through the swarm of dusky demons who sought to arrest his flight or to possess themselves of his gun. What with this attempt, and having to use it as a club, there was soon nothing left of it but the naked barrel. But he was young, strong, and fleet of foot, and though once felled to the ground, succeeded in fighting himself free from the crowd and escaping towards the forest. As he ran across the open ground, an arrow struck him in the left side below the ribs, penetrating the abdomen and bringing him to a sudden stop. Finding that he could not take a step, he quickly drew out the shaft, which broke off, one joint of its length with the barb being left in his body. In his excitement he was unconscious of any pain, and ran on with, for a while, a dozen Indians in pursuit, the number finally dwindling down to two, who took turns in shooting arrows at him. Being in despair of escaping and irritated by their persistence, he turned pursuer, but when he ran after one, the other shot at him from behind. At this critical moment the suspenders of his pantaloons gave way, letting them fall about his feet, compelling him to stop to kick them off. At the same time his eyes and mouth were filled with blood from a wound on his head; and, as blind and despairing he turned towards the forest, he fell headlong. This was a signal for his pursuers to rush upon him. In the hands of the foremost one was a gun which he attempted to fire, and failed. Says Williams in his narrative: The sickening sensations of the last half hour were at once dispelled when I realized that the gun had refused to fire. I was on my feet in a moment, rifle barrel in hand. Instead of running I stood firm, and the Indian with the rifle also met me with it, drawn by the breech. The critical moment of the whole affair had arrived, and I knew it must be the final struggle. My first two or three blows failed utterly, and I received some severe bruises; but fortune was on my side, and a lucky blow given with unusual force fell upon my antagonist, killing him almost instantly. I seized the gun, a sharp report followed, and I had the satisfaction of seeing my remaining pursuer stagger and fall dead." Williams then, expecting to die, lay down in the woods, but was discovered by Hedden, who was uninjured, and who, with the assistance of some friendly Umpquas brought him in six days to the Umpqua river, where the brig Almira, Captain Gibbs, was lying, which took the refugees to Gardiner. The wound in Williams abdomen discharged for a year; but it was four years before the arrow-head worked out, and seven years before the broken shaft was expelled.
- ↑ One of the three was of the crew of the pilot boat Hagstaff, which was wrecked by Rogue-river Indians, the captain and his men narrowly escaping by fleeing to the woods where they wandered for three weeks before being rescued by the settlers on the Umpqua.
- ↑ Parrish's Oregon Anecdotes, MS. 56.
- ↑ Eight rifles, one musket, one double-barreled pistol, one Sharp's thirty-six shooting rifle, one Colt's six-shooter, one brace holster pistol, with ammunition.
- ↑ The writer of the letter from which the above account was taken was drowned in Sixes river before his letter was finished: Alta Californian, December 14, 1851.
- ↑ The expenses of Steele's expedition were two thousand two hundred dollars, which amount was borne by the party, and never reimbursed.
- ↑ Says E. P. Jenner in the Yreka Journal: I deny emphatically that any were killed in any other way than by powder and lead, which John C. Burgess, John S. Hallick, and William Penning, old members of Wright s company, now in Siskiyou, will testify to.