USA > Washington > Asotin County > Lyman's history of old Walla Walla County, embracing Walla Walla, Columbia, Garfield and Asotin counties, Volume I > Part 54
USA > Washington > Columbia County > Lyman's history of old Walla Walla County, embracing Walla Walla, Columbia, Garfield and Asotin counties, Volume I > Part 54
USA > Washington > Garfield County > Lyman's history of old Walla Walla County, embracing Walla Walla, Columbia, Garfield and Asotin counties, Volume I > Part 54
USA > Washington > Walla Walla County > Lyman's history of old Walla Walla County, embracing Walla Walla, Columbia, Garfield and Asotin counties, Volume I > Part 54
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Waiilatpu, October 27, 1843.
Jesse Looney to John C. Bond,
Greenbush, Warren County, III.
Dear Sir: I embrace the opportunity of writing to you from this far west- ern country, afforded me by the return of Lieutenant Fremont to the States this winter. He thinks he will be at Independence, Mo., by January next, which will be in time for those who intend coming next season to this country to get some information about the necessary preparations to be ready for the journey.
It is a long and tiresome trip from the States to this country, but the com- pany of emigrants came through safely this season to the number of 1,000 persons with something over 100 wagons to this place, which is 250 miles east of the Willamet Valley, and, with the exception of myself and a few others, have all gone on down there, intending to go through this winter if possible. About half of them have traded off their stock at Walla Walla, twenty-five miles below here [he means the Hudson's Bay fort] and are going by water. The balance went on by land to the Methodist Mission, 175 miles below this, intend- ing to take to the water there.
I have stopped here in the Walla Walla Valley to spend the winter, in order to save my stock. This is a fine valley of land, excellent water, good climate, and the finest kind of pine timber on the surrounding mountains, and above all a good range for stock both summer and winter. The Indians are friendly and have plenty of grain and potatoes, and a good many hogs and cattle. The mis- sionaries at this and other missions have raised fine crops of wheat, corn, potatoes, etc., so that provisions can be procured here upon as good or better terms than in the lower settlements at present. Cattle are valuable here, espe- cially American cattle. Things induced me to stop here for the winter, save my stock and take them down in the spring.
In preparing for the journey of Rocky Mountains, you cannot be too par- ticular in choice of a wagon. It should be strong in every part and yet it should not be very heavy. The large size, two-horse Yankee wagons are the most sub- stantial wagons I have seen for this trip. You should haul nothing but your clothing, bedding and provisions. Goods are cheaper here than in the States. Let your main load be provisions-flour and bacon. Put in about as much load-
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ing as one yoke of cattle can draw handily, and then put on three good yoke of cattle and take an extra yoke for change in case of failure from lameness or sore necks, and you can come without any difficulty. The road is good, much better than we had expected, but is long. Bring all the loose cattle you can, especially milk cows and heifers. Do not attempt to bring calves. They will not come through, and by losing them you will be in danger of losing their mothers.
I cannot urge you too strongly to be sure to bring plenty of provisions; don't depend on the game you may get. You may get some and you may not. It is uncertain. We were about five months on the way to this place, and I had plenty of flour, etc., to do me, but most of the company were out long before they got here, and there is little or nothing in the way of provisions to be had at the forts on the way. I would advise you to lay in plenty for at least five months, for if you get out on the way you will have trouble to get any till you get here. I would advise you to start as soon as the grass will admit. We might have started near a month sooner than we did, and then would have been here in time to have gone through with our cattle this winter. We left Independence, Mo., the 22d of May and we are just about a month too late. Myself and family were all sick when we left and continued till we left Blue River, and the rain and wind, but when we reached the highlands along the Platte we began to mend. My health is better than for years, and so far as I have seen this coun- try I think it is very healthy. There was five or six deaths on the road, some by sickness and some by accident, and there were some eight or ten births. Upon the whole we fared much better than we expected. We had no inter- ruptions from the Indians. Our greatest difficulty was in crossing rivers. Mrs. L. says prepare with good strong clothing or sage brush will strip you.
This shrub is very plenty, and was hard on our teams, especially those that went before, but it will not be so bad on those that come next year, for we have left a plain, well beaten road all the way. I will have a better opportunity of giving you accounts of this country next spring, and 1 want you to write the first chance and to direct to the settlement of Willamet.
So no more, but remain,
Your brother till death, JESSE LOONEY.
In connection with these letters dealing with the mission at Waiilatpu and the immigration of 1843, we wish to inchide two of much interest, not hitherto published, both dealing with Doctor Whitman. These are letters of much later date than the preceding, though pertaining to the times of the mission.
The first of these is by Perrin Whitman to W. H. Gray. Perrin Whitman lived many years at Lewiston and was well known in all that region.
Letter from Perrin Whitman to W. H. Gray :
Lapwai Station, October 1I, 1880.
About the 20th of April, 1843, I left Rushville, Yates County, N. Y., with Dr. Marcus Whitman (my uncle) for Oregon. I distinctly remember of his telling his mother and friends that his visit with them would be necessarily short, as he had on his way east from Oregon, notified all who were desirous of
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emigrating to Oregon to rendezvous at Westport and Independence, Mo., and that he would pilot them with their wagons across the Rocky Mountains to the Columbia River. The immigration, consisting of about one hundred and twenty wagons, left the Missouri line about the last of May and reached Waii- latpu ( Walla Walla Valley) about the 5th of the following September.
The doctor piloted them the whole distance, as he had promised to do. Gen. J. C. Fremont (at that time a lieutenant ) arrived at Waiilatpu with his Gov- ernment train across the plains a few weeks after the arrival of our immigration.
Doctor Whitman's trip east in the winter of 1842 and '43 was for the double purpose of bringing the immigration across the plains, also prevent, if possible, the trading off of this northwest coast to the British Government. I learned from him that the Mission Board censured him in strong terms for having left his missionary duty and engaged in another so foreign from the one they had sent him to perform. While crossing the plains I repeatedly heard the doctor express himself as being very anxious to succeed in opening a wagon road across the continent to the Columbia River, and thereby stay, if not entirely prevent, the trade of this northwest coast, then pending between the United States and the British Government.
In after years the doctor with much pride and satisfaction reverted to his success in bringing the immigration across the plains and thought it one of the means of saving Oregon to his Government. I remained with him continuously till August, 1847, when he sent me to The Dalles. He was murdered the follow- ing November.
The above statement is correct and true, so help me God.
P. B. WHITMAN.
The next letter is from Judge O. S. Pratt, the territorial judge who pre- sided at the trial of the Indians implicated in the Whitman massacre. It was addressed to Mrs. Catherine Sager Pringle, one of the adopted children of Doctor Whitman, evidently in response to inquiries for information.
While the facts which it states might be known from other sources, it is of much interest as a summary of the permanent views of Judge Pratt upon the life and character of Doctor Whitman.
San Francisco, March 4, 1882.
Dear Madam: In my reply to your letter of January 20th last, I wrote you I thought the late Doctor Whitman was born in Ontario County, N. Y. I said I would soon know as I had just written to a friend who had the means of knowing the doctor's birthplace and would be likely to send me exact infor- mation on the subject. In reply to a letter, which I caused to be written to Mrs. Henry F. Wisewell, residing at Naples in Ontario County, N. Y., who is the doctor's sister and the only surviving member of his father's family, I received today, under date of February 22, 1882, an answer dictated by her, stating that "Marcus Whitman was born in Rushville, Ontario County, N. Y., September 4. 1802-the county then being very wild and new. In infancy he narrowly escaped death by burning, his cradle having taken fire from a brand falling out of the fireplace, when left alone. His father died in April, 1810; the same fall the son was sent to Plainfield, Mass., to live with his grandparents. Ile then attended school and returned to Rushville when eighteen years old. At the
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latter place he studied medicine and received a diploma at the Fairfield ( N. Y.) Medical College. He thereafter practiced medicine a short time in Canada, and afterwards for a few years near his native place. The Rev. Mr. Parker of Ithaca, N. Y., while preaching in the interior of that state on behalf of the Northwestern Indians, became acquainted with Doctor Whitman; and the latter having become deeply interested in Mr. Parker's efforts, first went with him to explore Oregon in the spring of 1835, and returned to his native village about Christmas of the same year, bringing with him two Indian boys. They were sent to school and learned rapidly and were soon able to read well and write legibly.
"In February, 1836, the doctor married Miss Narcissa Prentiss, a resident of Prattsburg, N. Y., and not far from his native village, who, with the doctor and the Rev. and Mrs. Spalding and the Indian boys, left April. 1836, for Oregon, their mission field, traveling west of the Mississippi, with pack horses and mules. Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spalding are understood to have been the. first white women who ever crossed the Rocky Mountains. The doctor there- after returned but once, starting October 7, 1842, and reached New York April 2, 1843, having suffered many hardships by the way, sleeping for the most part on the ground, and being at one time without food five days, and in his greatest extremity was compelled to kill his dogs to sustain life. From New York, be- fore visiting his family, he hurried to Washington on his mission with the Gov- ernment, which was to secure, if possible, Oregon to the United States. Not long afterwards he returned to his home west of the Rocky Mountains, and was. as is well known, massacred with his wife and others by the Indians, November 29, 1847."
I trust the foregoing, which may rightly be treated as authentic, will leave no uncertainty as to the birthplace and some of the important facts connected with the history of the late Doctor Whitman's useful life.
Respectfully yours, O. S. PRATT.
Turning now from the letters to special contributions we will first present one dealing with the Cayuse war, following the great tragedy at Waiilatpu. This contains the personal experience of W. W. Walter, an immigrant to the Walla Walla country of 1859. He lived many years near Prescott. This article was written from his dictation by his daughter, Mrs. Pettyjohn.
CAYUSE INDIAN WAR By W. W. Walter
In December, 1847, word reached the settlements in Oregon that the Cayuse Indians had killed Doctor Whitman and wife and twelve others. A runner car- ried the word to Vancouver, and a messenger was at once dispatched to Oregon City to Governor Abernethy, while Peter Skeen Ogden, factor of the Hudson's Pay Company, with a small company of Hudson's Bay men set out at once for the scene of the massacre-where he accomplished his wonderful work of ran- soming the white captives held by the Indians.
"No other power on earth," says Joe Meek, the American, "could have
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rescued those prisoners from the hands of the Indians." And no man better than Mr. Meek understood the Indian character, or the Hudson's Bay Com- pany's power over them.
The Oregon Legislature was in session when the message from Vancouver arrived, telling of the massacre. A call was made at once for fifty riflemen to proceed at once to The Dalles-to guard the settlements below from an invasion of the Indians. This company was known as the "First Oregon Riflemen."
Word came that the Cayuse Indians were coming to kill all the settlers in Oregon, and it was deemed best to meet the hostiles on their own ground.
After the first fifty men had started for The Dalles, five companies of volunteers were organized. I went from Tualatin County (now Washington) in Capt. Lawrence Hall's company of volunteers-every man furnishing his own horse and equipment-every one who could contribute a gun, or a little powder and lead-that was the way we got our munitions of war.
We rendezvoused at Portland, awaiting marching orders, which were given about January 1, 1848. We were in Portland a week or more, and I remember myself and some other lads made a ride back to the Plains to attend a dance- Christmas week.
About January 1, 1848, we started for the Cayuse Country, three hundred men, all told-we marched across the country and ferried over the Columbia at Vancouver. There the Hudson's Bay Company let us have a cannon, and it was an elephant on our hands.
From Vancouver we traveled up the north side of the Columbia ( dragging that old cannon along) to a place above the Cascades where we built a ferry boat and crossed the river again to the south side and followed up the trails to the Dalles. We still kept our cannon, making portages with it, and at the Dalles we mounted the thing on a wagon. The fifty men stationed there to hold the Mission were greatly annoyed by the Indians, and just after we arrived a report was brought in that there were hostile Indians up the Deschutes River, and two of our men on horse guard were decoyed by the Indians and killed. It happened thus: The Indians stripped their horses and let them graze near the guards, giving the impression they were loose horses. Our men thought them their own horses and went after them, when the Indians, who were concealed in the grass with ropes on their horses, fired and killed the two men. Those were the first men killed in the war.
So when we heard of the Indians up the Deschutes we were anxious for a fight and started for them. The battleground was at the mouth of Tygh Creek on the ridge where we, as emigrants, had come down the Deschutes hill two years before. We met the Indians early in the morning. The first we knew of their whereabouts we saw them formed in line on the front of a high hill. To reach them we had to climb that hill, facing their fire. We left our horses and took it afoot up that hill, but they did not stand long-we soon routed them-we had but one man wounded. We followed up with continuous firing on both sides- then we had our horses brought up and gave chase. As the country was level on top the hill we followed them five or six miles-they outstripped us, as they had splendid fresh horses ; we skirmished all that day-camped on the hill at night, then the next day followed on until we reached their deserted camp. There we found a very old and feeble Indian man and woman-too old to travel. They were
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deserted and alone, with a little pile of food lying by them. They refused to talk, so we learned nothing from them-so we left them undisturbed and returned to the Dalles, where we fitted up some old emigrant wagons and got some emigrant cattle and Mission cattle, and made up a train of wagons to haul what little supplies we had with us. We now started for the upper country, following the old emigrant road.
We had our next encounter with the Indians at Wells Springs between Willow Creek and Butter Creek. We camped there for the night-in the morning we had just gotten out of camp when we began to see Indians-Indians in every direction, in squads of ten and fifty, just coming thick. There were enough of them to eat up our little band of three hundred. We went only about a mile and a half when Col. Gilliam called a halt and we began preparations for a fight.
It was estimated over one thousand Indians were on the ground. A party of chiefs came out and called for a talk. Col. Gilliam, Tom McKay, Charlie Mckay and Mungo, the interpreter, went out to meet them. When they met it was learned there were Indians from all the northern tribes besides the Cayuses. There were Coeur d'Alenes, Flatheads, Pend d'Oreilles and Spokanes.
The Cayuses had sent runners to all the different tribes telling them the Whites in Oregon had killed all the Catholics and Hudson's Bay men who were friends to these Northern Indians-they told them they had killed Tom McKay, their best friend, and were now coming to kill them and take their country. But when an old chief met the commission, he saw and recognized old Tom Mckay and knew then they had been deceived and asked an explanation.
When Tom McKay, who was intimately acquainted with those northern Indians, and whose influence over them exceeded that of any other man in the country, told them the true story and that they were only up there to punish the murderers of Dr. Whitman and people, the old Flathead chief promised to take no part and to draw off all except the Cayuses. When the haughty Cayuse chief, named Grey Eagle, heard this he was so enraged he turned on Mckay and said, "I'll kill you, Tom McKay," and drew his gun to fire, but Mckay was too quick for him and fired first, killing the chief.
Grey Eagle was a great medicine man, and had boasted he could swallow all the bullets fired at him-and Mckay shot him in the mouth. As the Indians turned to run, Charlie McKay shot Five Crows, breaking his arm, but he escaped. It will be remembered he was the Indian who held captive a girl from the Mission. Five Crows, however, shot the powder horn off Mckay, so you can see they were in pretty close quarters.
We boys gave Mckay great credit for the service he done us-for our little band of three hundred looked pretty small compared with the foe.
Now, the battle was fairly on. The Northern Indians drew off on a hill and the Cayuses made a dash on us, about six hundred strong, all well mounted, riding in a circle and firing whenever a chance came. The Indians never left their horses-if they dismounted, the horse was fastened to the rider. When an Indian was killed we would always find the horse standing by his fallen rider, usually tied by the hair rope to his wrist.
(The horse rode by Grey Eagle was a beautiful gray, and Mckay's son Alec rode him many years.) The fight lasted the whole day long-that cannon that had caused so much vexation of spirit was of but little use, as the Indians scattered
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so it was fired a few times at a squad of Indians at long range-it served more to terrorize them than to kill, as it made a tremendous noise and they no doubt thought it great medicine. It was an impressive sight to see those hundreds of Northern Indians, splendidly mounted and armed after the Indian fashion, sitting on their horses at one side all day long, watching the progress of the fight. What a picture that would have made!
We camped that night on the battleground, but the next morning the Indians were gone. I think neither side could claim a victory. As we traveled that day Indians kept in sight all day, but did not interfere with us until we reached the Mission at Waiilaptu, where we performed the sad duty of gathering up the remains of the martyrs and burying them. We found parts of bodies lying around, scattered about. We found a skull with a tomahawk wound in it-we supposed it was that of Mrs. Whitman. We also found locks of her beautiful yellow hair in the yard. It was taken to Oregon City and placed among the Oregon State Documents.
We made a sort of stockade by building a wall breast high of adobe from the old buildings-also built a corral for the horses by placing rails end in the ground, and corraled the horses every night and guarded them by day. We slaughtered what cattle we could find and jerked the meat so we would have supplies in case we were corraled by the Indians. We subsisted on Indian and Mission cattle-no bread.
After getting settled in camp, parts of two companies, myself one of the number, escorted Joe Meek and his party to the snow line of the Blue Mountains as he started on his famous trip across the continent at midwinter, as an agent from Oregon, to ask protection of the United States Government for the suf- fering settlers in the wilds of Oregon. He was accompanied by Squire Ebberts and Nat Bowman, both mountain men, and three others. So we left the little party to pursue their journey amid untold perils while we returned to Fort Waters, as the Mission was now called. This was in February. About the first of March about eighty-five or ninety men were called to go out on a raid to gather up what cattle we could and learn what we could of the whereabouts of the hostiles. My company went, as we were the best mounted men in the command. Not thinking to be gone long, we rode light and took no provisions.
We traveled what was long known as the Nez Perces trails, cross the country to Copeii, where we were met by two friendly Indians. They told us the Cayuses were camped at the mouth of Tucanon. Our interpreter, Mungo, said he could pilot us there. We concluded to hunt them up.
So at dark we started going down Copeii, then across the country to Tucanon to where Starbuck now is. There we crossed and followed down the creek, reaching the encampment just at break of day. Just as we crossed Tucanon we ran onto an Indian guard, but he got away and ran to camp-so when we got near camp two Indians came out with a white flag. I will state here that run- ners had been sent with word that if friendly Indians would raise a flag of truce they would not be molested, as we were only seeking to punish the Cayuses. So when they sent out the flag and asked for a talk, Col. Gilliam went forward. They claimed to be Palouses and friendly to the Whites. Said the Cayuses had gone across Snake River, but had left lots of stock behind which they would turn over to the volunteers, and that they would go out and gather them in for us.
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So they began running in horses and cattle, we helping- and all went merrily along. However, we soon noticed the lodges going down as by magic and the boys on the hill saw them busily ferrying their families over the river, and asked why they were moving. They said their women were afraid of the Whites and wished to go. So by their cunning manœuvres they had detained us half a day, and we, without any food since the early morning before, were beginning to feel pretty hungry.
When they had delivered up all the stock, Col. Gilliam said we would drive out to grass and camp and eat. So we started out, but soon discovered we had been duped the worst way. They were the Cayuses-even the real murderers were there, and they were after us. Now there was no thought of eating. Indians on every side, yelling like demons, calling us women-afraid to fight. It was a running fight all day long and we were still holding the stock at night-in McKay Hollow, where we strung along the little hollow seeking shelter from the Indians by hiding behind the banks. We did not dare kindle a fire. On examination it was found thirty volunteers were wounded, but not dangerously. Our ammuni- tion was about exhausted and we were half famished.
The older men and officers evidently realized we were in a pretty serious predicament, but we young boys had no idea of the danger we were in, not as I see it now. During the night Gillian ordered the stock turned loose-as we were now about out of ammunition he hoped by turning the stock loose to get rid of the Indians. The boys objected to that move, but instead of the Indians leaving us that only renewed their courage. They thought we were giving up, and attacked us more savagely than ever. We were pretty well hidden and in no im- mediate danger, so we saved our ammunition and only fired when sure of an Indian-they frequently came in range when circling around us. In the morning they still hung on our heels. As we started out they followed us on-calling to Mungo repeatedly, asking why we did not stop to fight, while he abused them in return.
The Indians would drop behind until a bunch of us were a distance from the command, then make a dash, trying to cut us off, and we surely were not cautious. Tom Cornelius, Pete Engart and myself were a little behind when an Indian shot Engart in the calf of the leg. He fell from his horse, saying he was killed. Tom and I jumped from our horses and shook him up and told him he was not hurt-he gave up. We finally threw him up astride his horse-we cursed him and told him to ride-and he rode. By this time the Indians were on us and the boys ahead had not missed tis. I tell you we made a race for it, one of us on each side of the wounded man, but we made it.
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