Here You Have My Story : Eyewitness Accounts of the Nineteenth-Century Central Plains [1 ed.] 9780803226876, 9780803226609

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Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved. Here You Have My Story : Eyewitness Accounts of the Nineteenth-Century Central Plains, University of Nebraska Press,

Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved.

Here You Have My Story

Here You Have My Story : Eyewitness Accounts of the Nineteenth-Century Central Plains, University of Nebraska

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9/30/2009 7:00:46 AM

Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved. Here You Have My Story : Eyewitness Accounts of the Nineteenth-Century Central Plains, University of Nebraska

JENSEN FM.indd ii

9/30/2009 7:00:46 AM

Here You Have My Story

Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved.

Eyewitness Accounts of the Nineteenth-Century Central Plains Edited and with an introduction by rich ard e. jensen

university of nebr ask a press | lincoln & london

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© 2009 by the Board of Regents of the University of Nebraska All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

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Here you have my story: eyewitness accounts of the nineteenth-century Central Plains / edited and with an introduction by Richard E. Jensen. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. isbn 978-0-8032-2660-9 (pbk.: alk. paper) 1. Nebraska—History—19th century—Sources. 2. Frontier and pioneer life—Nebraska—Sources. 3. Land settlement—Nebraska— History—Sources. 4. Indians of North America—Nebraska—History—19th century—Sources. 5. Great Plains—History—19th century—Sources. 6. Frontier and pioneer life—Great Plains—Sources. 7. Land settlement—Great Plains—History—Sources. 8. Indians of North America—Great Plains—History—Sources. I. Jensen, Richard E. f666.h47 2009 978.2'02—dc22 2009028587 Set in Iowan Old Style by Kim Essman. Designed by Ray Boeche.

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Contents Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ix 1. Indian Country

1

Reminiscences of a Teacher among the Nebraska Indians, 1843–1885 . . . . . . 2 mrs. elvir a gaston platt Forty Years among the Indians and on the Eastern Borders of Nebraska. . . . . . . . . . 27 rev. samuel allis History of the Omaha Indians . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73 henry fontenelle

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At Bellevue in the Thirties . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82 mrs. e. anderson 2. Military Campaigns and Army Life

89

My Very First Visit to the Pawnee Village in 1855 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .90 john m. thayer The Pawnee War of 1859 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 john m. thayer The Pawnee Indian War, 1859 . . . . . . . . . . . .116 capt. r. w. hazen The Massacre at Oak Grove Ranch . . . . . . . . . 126 capt. edward b. murphy

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History of the Powder River Indian Expedition of 1865 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 134 h. e. palmer 3. Overland Freighting on the Plains 181 Along the Overland Trail in Nebraska in 1852 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 182 gilbert l. cole Freighting on the Plains . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192 james green Overland Freighting from Nebraska City . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197 deforest p. rolfe Freighting Across the Plains in 1856, a Personal Experience . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 214 moses h. sydenham

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4. White Settlement 233 Part of the Making of a Great State . . . . . . . 234 john a. macmurphy Nebraska in the Fifties . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257 david m. johnson Recollections of Omaha, 1855–61 . . . . . . . . . 266 c. irvine Reminiscences of Early Days in Nebraska. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277 william w. cox Early Days at the Salt Basin . . . . . . . . . . . . 293 john s. gregory

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History of the First State Capitol . . . . . . . . . 300 thomas malloy Personal Recollections of Early Days in Decatur, Nebraska . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 306 capt. s. t. leaming Early Days on the Little Blue . . . . . . . . . . . . .313 j. h. lemmon Adventures on the Plains, 1865–67 . . . . . . . . 320 dennis farrell Reminiscences of the Crusade in Nebraska. . . 330 mrs. harriet w. leighton

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Notes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 339 Bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 369 Index. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 377

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Introduction “Here you have my story,” wrote A. C. Beam in about 1890. “Should it prove interesting, instructive, or amusing to its readers, I shall feel paid for the trouble.”1 Beam was one of nearly a hundred people who wrote about their early life on the Plains for the Nebraska State Historical Society. Twenty-three of these pieces published between 1885 and 1919 are reproduced here. It is difficult to generalize about their “genre.” Some, like Mr. Beam’s, were “written from tablets of memory,” while others relied upon diaries or other mnemonic devices. There are sections that could be described as oral history, as well as fragments of traditional history in introductory statements. They do share one common characteristic: all are based primarily on eyewitness accounts of events on the Plains, generally during the third quarter of the nineteenth century. None of the authors set out to tell lies about the past, but memories are fallible, and as a result there are some historical inaccuracies, most of them minor. One author, for example, wrote about a missionary to the Ponca tribe when, in fact, the man had gone to the Omaha Indians. Sometimes people’s names acquire a new twist: Mr. Allison, mentioned in one article, and Mr. Alice, in another, are both really Samuel Allis, a missionary to the Pawnees in 1834. Dates, too, are sometimes wrong, and I have tried to correct all these mistakes in the endnotes. The relative importance of an event also can become skewed when it is recalled many years later. This can be a plus, however, in that mundane incidents sometimes come to the fore and give readers a deeper insight into a situation

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introduction

that might be overlooked in a more standard history. There is also an added benefit: the character and personality of the author is often exposed as well as his or her feelings, viewpoints, and prejudices. All the authors were pioneer settlers on the Plains, predominately in Nebraska. Most were unabashedly proud of the contributions they made in bringing “civilization” to the wilderness. Most had little to say about the havoc they wreaked upon the indigenous peoples. Some witnessed these changes firsthand but could only dismiss the cultural destruction as an inevitable, necessary step toward “civilization.” Readers also must be prepared to encounter some politically incorrect, even offensive comments. One author concluded, for example, that the Indians “are, in point of intellect, superior to the Negro race.” Another, a military man writing about an attack on an Indian village, called it a “glorious work of annihilating savages.” These and other blatantly racist remarks were made at annual meetings of the Historical Society in front of audiences of educated people who accepted the comments, apparently without derision or any evidence of contempt. The statements will anger and disgust most readers today, but some consolation can be derived in realizing how far we have come. The articles were originally published in the Historical Society’s Proceedings and Transactions and Reports, the predecessors of today’s Nebraska History quarterly. As might be expected, most of these offerings concern Nebraska, but many of the events described could have taken place anywhere on the Plains. For example, struggles to locate a county seat in one’s favored community could have happened in any number of states. Likewise the stories about freighting, here focused on the Platte River valley,

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introduction

could have taken place on the Bozeman Trail or the road to Santa Fe. Some of the articles are transcriptions of speeches made at the Historical Society’s annual meeting. Others were letters written at the request of some Society official. There appears to have been very little editing in the original publications, thus an article might begin “Good morning” or “Dear Mr. .” I saw little reason to include this in the present publication. There are also minor alterations of punctuation and capitalization to reflect modern standards. As many readers have no doubt noticed, I have, thus far, managed to avoid using the term reminiscence, a word that reverberates with pejorative connotations for most historians. Even on the relatively rare occasion when a reminiscence is admitted to a collection, it usually languishes in the shadow of primary source material, which is contemporary with events described, presumably unscarred by memory lapses, and uncontaminated by the intrusion of subsequent events and interpretations. Nevertheless, the twenty-three examples here prove to be surprisingly accurate recollections of specific events and the general circumstances of early life on the Plains. At their worst, they suffer from little more than an occasional fumbled name, place, or date; at their best they add detail, color, and life to our knowledge of an iconic period in our national history. And always, they are ripping good yarns.

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chapter one

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Indian Country

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This first chapter contains adventures dating to preterritorial days in Nebraska. Missionaries wrote about their experiences in the 1830s and 1840s. A Native American author wrote about tribal history and memorable events. The first story is by Mrs. Elvira Platt. She and her husband, Lester, came to Pawnee country from Oberlin, Ohio, in 1843. Mr. Platt was hired by the Office of Indian Affairs as a farmer or “agriculturalist” for the Pawnee tribe then living in present Nance County, Nebraska. The Platts would continue their association with the tribe for thirty years.1 The Platts were deeply religious people and certainly thought of themselves as Christian missionaries. Mrs. Platt makes frequent references to the mission sent to the Pawnees in 1834. This is discussed in greater detail by Samuel Allis.

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Reminiscences of a Teacher among the Nebraska Indians, 1843–1885 mrs. elvir a gaston platt It was on June 24, 1843, that we first set foot on Nebraska soil, though it was then known as Indian Territory.2 On our way to the Pawnee village, aboard the steamer Oceanica, laden with government supplies and bound for Bellevue, the seat of the Council Bluffs agency for the Otoes, Pawnees, and Omahas.3 Captain Lyttleton invited us with the guests on board, to go out and take a view of his farm. The steamer was drawn to the shore near the mouth of the Weeping Water where we landed, ascending the bluff that we might the more perfectly see what had so enchanted Capt. Lyttleton as to cause him to choose that wild spot as the site of his future home. The beauty that surrounded us any one may prove by visiting the spot today, though

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indian country

then it was only a rich primeval pasture ground, “fenced by the stooping sky.” The next day, June 25, we landed at Bellevue and were entertained by the agent, Maj. Daniel Miller.4 There was no white woman at the agency, Mrs. Miller having gone down the river for fear of the Otoes who were threatening an outbreak on account of some disaffection towards the agent. A blacksmith for the Omahas had come upon the deck of the Oceanica, with his wife and cow; and they found shelter in a log cabin a little way up the river from the agency buildings, the trading post of the American Fur Company lying between the two.5 On the Sabbath, July 2, a messenger arrived from the Pawnee villages bringing tidings of the attack of the Sioux upon them, which is mentioned in Mr. (not Rev.) Allis’s historical sketch. This attack had been made the Wednesday previous and the village that was burned was the one to which we were bound as teachers.6 My brother, G. B. Gaston, had gone to the Pawnees under the auspices of the A.B.C.F.M. and being informed by him that it was desirable that the teachers employed by the government be those who would cooperate with the missionaries in their work Mr. Platt and I went out with that intent.7 The question now was, should we go on to the villages or return to the States; but as the back trail was so long and would have disappointment written all along its way and that before us was short and lighted up with hope, we decided to go forward. I was very desirous to go with my husband, who would return with the messenger, but Maj. Miller counseled strongly that I wait four weeks till the teams should come in for the government supplies as well as for those for the mission. He pleaded that we were liable to be attacked by the Sioux on the way; that my

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presence might hinder the men from escaping and that all might be killed or taken captive, so, although loath to do so, I yielded the point. Propriety demanding that I go to the only white woman in the place, very reluctantly I was ushered into the cabin of the Omaha blacksmith, with its one small room on the ground and a low loft above, which was occupied at night by the striker Albert Fontenelle, who had recently returned from Missouri where he had been at school.8 Those four weeks of waiting were marked in my calendar as never to be forgotten. A few days after my husband left, Macinac boats came down the river, the men on board bringing word that the Sioux, having become offended with the traders of the Fur Company, would soon send a war party to attack those at Bellevue.9 A day or two after this news came, two Omaha women, who were living with a white man, saw, just before sunset, what they insisted was proof of the presence of the enemy — bushes waving where no bushes grew. They declared that it was Sioux scouts with branches of trees tied to them, which rising just above their heads, would look like a clump of bushes and thus enable the Indians to make observations without being seen. These women rushed to the cabin of the blacksmith and demanded shelter, as their house was on the bluff and would be the first to meet the attack. The agent felt comparatively safe with his doors fastened by iron bars and bolts — the Fur Company was picketed in and kept guarded — and so for one long week during those hot July nights the white man and his two Indian women, the blacksmith and wife, his striker, and my own precious self were shut in that cabin without windows, the door barred, while the men had bowie knives and revolvers within reach. Very unrefreshing was the sleep that visited my pillow; but

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no Sioux came to attack; the excitement died away and we drew free breath again. But now it became apparent that a new lodger was about to appear to claim a place with us. The two Omaha women ushered the stranger into its new world, but announced that the mother was no “brave” to endure pain. Now added duties were mine. I did not choose to starve or to see others suffer hunger, and if I did not, food must be prepared. But how could I make a fire hot enough to cook the inevitable coffee, cornpone, and bacon on those fiery July days, in that little hut near the bed of an invalid? The blacksmith’s forge was near by, and I said, “That shall be my refuge,” and it was. I have heard the voices of men, who were driving oxen, when they sounded to me rough and rude, but the “whoa-up, whoa-up, whoa-steady, Brown and Bandy, whoa-gee now Duke and Berry” were music to my listening ear on that last Saturday of July, as the government teams were driven down the narrow defile that led from the overhanging bluffs to the river bank, on which stood the agency buildings. Monday, July 31, six prairie schooners, heavily laden, each drawn by three yoke of oxen, slowly climbed to the uplands that overlooked the narrow bottom on which stood Bellevue, although La Bellevue was on the heights. I was the only passenger, but my husband was captain of the craft I had boarded, and my brother engineered another. The skies were fair, the air was cool and pure, new experiences lay before me, and my heart leaped for joy. Our path lay along the old trail, known to the early settlers of Nebraska, a trail worn by Indians and by the traders who loved the wild life to be found in the “Great American Desert.” The first and part of the second day we were on the high lands, with small streams to cross but no sloughs.

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Two of the streams were the Great and the Little Papillion. I wish to protest against the vandalism that has reduced that musical name to Papio as we hear it announced while flying over that ground today. The old time spirit of the teacher always comes over me and I am prompted to say, “Pa-peel-yong, Sir.” And now too, much to be deplored is it, that the euphonious O-ma-ha has come to be the hard Omaha, and the smooth Pawny the forced Pawnee. The fording of the Elkhorn was a task of some magnitude; but as the river was low, by doubling teams and by the drivers’ wading in the water up to their armpits, all were safely over before camping the second night. The drive along the Platte bottom was more difficult because of the sloughs. These were bridged with grass and weeds which grew so luxuriantly along their sides. Each driver had a scythe, and with them the wild growth was soon cut in sufficient quantities to fill the great oozy beds over which we must pass. It was always my privilege to take the first ride over the new bridge, and consequently I passed safely to the other side. But very often the piers of the structure would give way under the last schooner and it would sink into the deep mud from which it must be rescued by the united efforts of the line of oxen giving “a long pull, a strong pull and a pull all together,” while the men pried at the wheels of the sinking vessel. All this trouble might have been saved by the further use of the scythe. Very little of special interest occurred during our eight days trip, though it was by no means dull. A camping place was always sought where wood and water could be secured and, if possible, where the oxen could be turned loose to graze, without the fear that they would take the homeward trail. The islands on the Platte afforded such

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security and the river being low, the men could easily ford it to drive back their teams, in the morning. It is said that “a thing of beauty is a joy forever,” and so it may be, even while it proves a vexation, as did a rare and beautiful flower one of the young men threw into my lap one day. It was a large aquatic plant of a delicate orange color and of a heavy though not disagreeable fragrance. Having no botany which described the flora of that region, that flower, with many others, long remained with me as a nameless waif, which was really vexing. For years I sought by describing this flower to others to learn its name but it was never recognized and it was the only specimen I ever saw in Nebraska. At last on visiting a little lake in Mills County, Iowa, in 1854 or 1855 found its bosom covered with the beauty I had so long cherished in my memory as “the nameless one.” I learned it was the Yellow Nelumbo.10 Some years after this I saw a statement in the New York Independent that there are only three states where this plant is found, North Carolina, New Jersey, and New York. I immediately wrote to the Independent, claiming for Iowa and Nebraska the same honor. While writing of flowers, I will add that I found as I have intimated, the flora of the Loup (Loo), near which were the Pawnee villages, very rare. There were vetches and spurges in great variety. Of the latter the Flowering Spurge was most prominent, and on visiting the garden at Mt. Vernon in after years, I found it was esteemed so highly as to be cultivated there. The rose, violet, and crowfoot families were most fully represented. There I first saw Penstemon (Great Beard Tongue); and only there a mammoth dock, bearing flowers as large as the cultivated hydrangea of an orange hue varying from a light to a very deep color. There was also a trailing hirsute vine with a compound leaf and

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a long peduncle to which was attached a mass of magenta colored flowers, in the form of a very compact tassel. To what family this belongs I have yet to learn. There were also the gentian and orchid, though the latter family was not very fully represented. The sand along the banks of the Loup (Loo) was full of wild potatoes and turkey peas upon which the Indians often feasted.11 If cultivated, why should they not become useful to us of nicer taste? The corn known among all the Indians as Pawnee corn was a great rarity to us, and its luxuriant growth a great marvel, ears 16 and 18 inches long being not uncommon. The fauna near an Indian village would be difficult of approach and not very numerous. Buffalo were seldom seen there during our stay, and then but few in its number. Elk were in the country, and at one time, while the Indians were out on their hunt, a large herd of fifty or more passed down the river on the opposite side from our dwellings. Deer were also, but seldom near us; and when antelope grazed in our sight we were sure a war party of Sioux were not far away, as this timid animal so graceful in form and movement fled before the Indian’s scented trail. Wolves, especially the prairie wolves, were numerous and never far away. Of the black wolf one was killed by our company that had been attracted to our yard by a calf tied near the house. It measured five feet from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail. A pair of white wolves were seen trotting along during the day, and were so large as to be mistaken for two yearling calves that had been for some time lost in the bluffs. Another one was in the habit one season of serenading us on moonlight nights, coming so near as to be distinctly seen by us, and making bold to enter the cattle yards and carry off a young calf which was rescued by the men. But the beautiful white invader escaped and

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was too cunning to fall into the many traps set for him. That these different families of wolves mixed their blood was proven to us by our seeing at one time a gang of a hundred or more feeding near the village in the winter during the absence of the Indians. It was the season that the ague caused the death of so many Indians, and that, with the death of Spotted Horse and young Mathers which is mentioned in another place, filled the Indians with such fear that they buried their dead very near the surface in their haste to put them out of their sight.12 This attracted the wolves and caused them to collect in such numbers. I noticed no purely white wolves among them. There were black and spotted ones, probably a mixture between the prairie and the black wolf, as they were much larger than the former. I do not know that the gray wolf was found there. Beaver, otter, and mink abounded, and their furs were a valuable source of traffic for the Pawnees. The pole cat often made his presence known by perfuming the air with what an English visitor among the Delawares termed his “agreeable aromatic.” Jack rabbit with his long ears and bounding gait and bunny with his white sail, ventured at intervals to come out from their hiding places; but woe be to them if an Indian was near, for nothing in the form of fresh meat was permitted to escape him. No doubt had an ornithologist been there of sufficient daring to search the groves in the silent ravines he would have found many species of birds. That the Indians found them was proven by their possessing skins of birds of various bright colors, with which they decked themselves and their horses for war, though probably many of these were obtained from southern Indians. The lark was almost the only song bird we heard — a variety that came in flocks, smaller than the meadow lark, and not solitary in pairs

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like those of the east. Prairie chickens abounded in the whiter and magpies came around our dwellings to pick up the bones, saucily sitting on our window sills to note perhaps the occupation of the housekeeper. That the mastodon had roamed over that region ages before, we had proof in a large tooth weighing seven pounds that was washed down by a rise of the Loup (Loo) River and also by reports from the Pawnees of the skeleton of a large animal which they saw on the banks of the Republican Fork. This was also seen by Messrs. Dunbar and Allis, during their travels with the Indians.13 The tradition of the Pawnees was that these were the bones of a mighty man who in former ages had his home in that region; that he was so tall and large and strong, he could kill buffalo with ease, and taking a cow under each arm and a bull on his back, could walk off as though he carried nothing. But though so mighty, he lacked reverence, and one day when God spoke in the thunder, this man mocked him and the earth immediately opened and swallowed him. The Pawnees were a very reverent people, having no expression like an oath in their language, the white man taught them to take the name of God in vain. We camped Saturday night on land now owned by Col. Stevens, a little west of the present city of Columbus, and there rested on the Sabbath according to the commandment. With the wide prairie as our cathedral, the overhanging azure our arch, the musical waters of the swift-running Loup (Loo) for our organ, and the birds for our choir, we worshipped, were refreshed and uplifted. Early Monday morning we were ready for home going, camped on the Looking Glass at noon and cooled our kettle of mush in its crystal waters. At that time it well deserved the name the Pawnees had given it, “Keats-oo-ka-tow-a-rick” (water

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that reflects your shadow). But since from its source to its mouth, herds of cattle have trod its bed, and waters from deeply ploughed fields have drained into it, it no longer merits that title, and dwellers on its banks today wonder what peculiarity won it the name of Looking Glass. This is the first stream of any size in the Loup (Loo) valley, as you go westward from its mouth. The next, Beaver Creek, as then called, was known also as Burr Creek from the innumerable burrs growing along its banks, the Pawnees applying either name as they were not only annoyed by the burrs but caught many beaver in and near the stream. The next stream west of the Beaver is Plum Creek, on which was the mission station, and between which and Council Creek stood the village which had just been burned by the Sioux. Plum Creek was so called from the abundance of plum bushes on its banks. The first season the missionaries spent there, they feasted on their fruit. The plums were of large size, great variety, and delicious flavor, but the prairie fires destroyed the trees that fall, and few were found there afterward. Plum Creek was well wooded; large oaks which shaded its steep banks produced acorns very pleasant to the taste. It was fed by springs coming to the surface at the foot of the bluffs and had our little company been possessed of the implements, they would have been tempted to turn aside from their legitimate work to search for coal and oil in the surrounding bluffs, so sure were they that the waters of Plum Creek indicated their near presence. That stream, which then supplied water in abundance for the families on its banks and their stock, has today very little in its bed. The next, Council Creek, where Maj. Dougherty held his famous council, has increased rather than diminished in size during these years.14 But by some mishap, the two

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streams have changed names, which, without regard to the annoyance of early settlers, is unfortunate for historical exactness. Charming Willow, too, whose beauties were sung by the earlier poets who dwelt on its banks, now answers to the name of Cedar, though there are two or three other Cedars in the near distance. In the arbors formed by the drooping willows on its banks, we could bathe hidden from the eyes of the passer by. The cedars grew on the high bluff overhanging the stream, hence both names were given by the Pawnees, but to the earlier whites, it was always known as Willow. On arrival at our new home, we began to look about us to learn what was to be done. The Pawnees were so demoralized by the burning of their villages and the killing of so many of their leading and most reliable men that little could be done for them that season. And yet those who contemplated doing for them in the future must be preparing. Mr. Platt and I therefore set ourselves to aid the whites who had been before us on the ground, to carry out their plans, while we made the acquaintance of the villagers when they returned from their hunt and learned their language. One of the most notable events of that autumn was the privilege our little community had of entertaining Fremont on his return from his mountain trip; though little did we know what gems of greatness, that would bring him great renown, lay hidden behind the rough garb, the uncut hair and the untrimmed beard of our stranger guest.15 The next spring seeing little prospect of accomplishing the immediate object of our errand to the Pawnees we proposed when the agent Maj. Miller came on his yearly visit, to return with him to the States. But the Pawnees needed to have much done for them that season to secure

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food for their subsistence. With less financial wisdom for us than overflowing greatness of heart for his charge, the Major said, “For God’s sake, Mr. Platt, do stay and help raise something for these starving Pawnees, and I am sure when the case is represented to the government, it will reward you.”16 Had we known the mysteries of red tape then, as we since have learned them, no doubt we should have hesitated to decide that we were willing to lose the chance of winning our own bread and butter to secure food for the Pawnees. The next fall we were appointed teachers to the villages at the mouth of the Willow and removed to that point to be near the homes of our pupils, though we were to receive the children into our house, board, clothe, and teach them.17 It was a new departure, and many were the hindrances to our success. The first winter four, two boys and two girls, formed the school. The next season twelve was the number we were able to retain, when the village started for the summer hunt. An incident of the year previous should have been recorded in its proper place — the celebration of the glorious Fourth. Were I to claim that it was the first time that day was celebrated in Nebraska, I fear I should find myself in the dilemma of one who claims to be the first white child born in this state. Perhaps some one belonging to the garrison on the Missouri, where Long wintered on his first expedition, would rise to say he assisted in such a celebration on Nebraska soil, long before 1844.18 But I doubt if any one will deny that to be the first time in Nebraska that a settlement of white men with their wives and children, went out, accompanied by a school with banner and song, to celebrate that day.19 We of Plum Creek were off very early in the morning for a ride to Willow Creek settlement, five miles away, where we were to breakfast with our friends,

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the Mathers, Mr. Mathers Sr. being superintendent of the farms.20 Five children belonging to the different mission families were my pupils for that season. These were fitted with regalia, and Henry M. Allis, now of Mills Co., Iowa, was banner bearer for the occasion.21 Our point of rendezvous was Cedar Bluffs, a height overlooking the Willow (Cedar), where Fullerton, Nance Co., now stands. The young men of our party, with the aid of two Indian boys who accompanied us, built a bower of cedar branches from the trees near by. Our banner was planted on the edge of the precipice two hundred feet from the water below, and our little company gave themselves up to the enjoyments of the hour, feasting our eyes on the wondrous beauty of the landscape before us. Blessed above most county seats is that of Nance County for views of delight. After leaving that region my heart always turned to that spot, as the most desirable for making a home. After an hour or two spent in rambling and chatting, our company were called to seats under the bower, where was spread a collation very inviting to hungry wanderers. Before eating we had a short exercise, and though I do not find it recorded in my journal I have the impression that L. W. Platt read the “Declaration of Independence” and Mr. James Mathers gave a short oration. During the exercises, “America” and an original poem were sung, prayer was offered, and before partaking of the feast, the blessing of the Almighty God upon us was invoked by Mr. Allis. On our return home the large residue of our feast was left at the Indian village for the old and infirm, who were unable to go on the hunt. During the absence of the Pawnees in 1845, we received two visits from the Sioux. One morning as the children were singing at the opening of the school, a wild war song burst upon the outdoor stillness. The children immedi-

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ately sprang to their feet, but I ordered them to be quiet, thinking it was a few lame and lazy Pawnees, who, not going on the hunt, had taken quarters in a cabin near us. But my pupils were better versed in war songs than I and insisted that it was not their own people, but the Sioux. The last one was just disappearing in the loft above, when Mr. Platt rushed in asking, “Are those children safe?” He had been in the garden, and when a gun was discharged a little distance from him, immediately there sprang from the corn, which was growing close by his side, a party of six or seven, who began to dance and sing. One of their company had left them to go around behind some old buildings which were near to watch for the appearance of the Pawnees who occupied the cabin. They had a kettle of corn and pumpkins boiling out of doors, and when a boy went out to attend the fire, the Sioux shot him, then the companions of the Sioux sprang up and began their song and dance to attract the attention of the Pawnees while he could escape. He crossed the Willow immediately, and as soon as they saw he was safe, his companions followed him, knowing they could not secure the scalp of the wounded boy. The boy died that day. This proof that the enemy could come so near and yet remain unseen, awoke me to fear for myself and pupils; and as the men in gathering hay for the coming winter went about three miles away to secure it, it was arranged that the school and the teacher should spend the day with Mrs. [Sara Clarke] Mathers, at the farm house while the men were absent. This we did one week. But the task of rising early to prepare breakfast and dinner for so many; of carrying our books, work, and food away from home each day; and of occupying the seats upon the floor of the small warm room during the school session, became tedious. Accusing myself of cow-

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ardice in thus fleeing before the face of an imagined foe, I concluded to stay at home. On the third day after this decision, just before dismissing my pupils at noon, I saw a plumed warrior throwing down a fence that hindered his approach to a horse that was tethered midway between us and the farm house. Waving my hand to the children and exclaiming in a whisper “Charrerat” (Sioux) I ran to close the doors and windows, which were all open, while they scrambled to the chamber. On putting out my hand to close the last shutter, the Sioux I had seen rode close by me in full chase after the horse which had broken his tether and was stretching every muscle to escape his would-be captor. That shutter was left unclosed while I took refuge with my pupils. Immediately war whistles made of the leg bone of a turkey began to blow, firing and whooping began, and we knew that we were midway between the combatants. The number of the Sioux we could not decide. Balls whistled by back and forth; one struck the house, each one of us thinking it struck the log against which he leaned. It was forty minutes after I spied the Sioux before I heard Mr. Platt call my name. The men had heard the firing and war whoops and started home as soon as they could put the horse into the cart in which they rode; but a Sioux riding up took the horse by the reins, led him out of the path, and began cutting the harness from him. They, fearing for us at home, could not venture to defend themselves and so made good their escape, as they saw they were watched by a distant party. After all this experience we gladly hailed the return of the Pawnees from their hunt that season. A few weeks after their homecoming many of them were attacked with the ague, a disease for which they had a name but with which they had not been afflicted for years. The disease was probably induced by decaying sod, as many

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acres of freshly plowed prairie lay near the village. Knowing little of the proper methods of treating themselves in sickness, they suffered much and many died. The usual voracious appetite of an ague patient was theirs and they gratified it to the full. Then, when the fever was at its height, they cast themselves into the river, which flowed near by. Congestion and then death ensued. Our school was not exempt from the scourge. Could we have been permitted to treat our pupils as we chose, the suffering need not have been much or long. But the Indians interfered and at last all the pupils were taken to the village, not returning until the next spring.22 A serious difficulty arose that autumn between Mr. Mathers, the Superintendent, and Spotted Horse, chief of the Skedee band of the Pawnees. Spotted Horse was not an hereditary chief, but Maj. Dougherty had constituted him chief, because of his boldness and daring, hoping that those characteristics might be an advantage in holding his people in check; but, as he was a tyrant, it only engendered strife and hatred among them, especially in the hearts of those whom he had superseded in the chieftainship.23 There was ammunition at the agency for the Pawnees, and the design was to bring it to them when the teams went in for the supplies. They were particularly anxious to obtain it, for they were not only in continual danger from an attack of the Sioux, but also from the Otoes with whom they had quarreled while on their hunt. Indeed a party had visited the village before the return of the Pawnees and had beheaded an old man who had been left at home. They carried away the head on a spear singing a song of triumph as they went, to the terror of those who saw them. Mr. Mathers went to Bellevue with the men who drove the teams. The ammunition was loaded with the other

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supplies. They were only a few miles from the agency when a band of sixty well armed Otoes confronted them and gave them their choice, to return to Bellevue and leave the ammunition or to fight; for they said that part of their load should not go to the Pawnee villages. As there were only five white men in the company, to return was the only alternative. Spotted Horse was enraged when he found the ammunition had not come and demanded that Mr. Mathers should give him the little there was. This was of course refused, and he arose and began to remove the powder horns and shot pouches from the wall, as they hung near him. A quarrel ensued, during which one hand of the chief was cut off, and the younger son of Mr. Mathers the interpreter, and a young man very much beloved by all of us, was mortally wounded. Spotted Horse returned to the village, brandishing his hand which still clung to his wrist by a bit of skin, calling upon his people for vengeance. The vast multitude responded immediately; and those were fearful days and nights we two families spent, shut in our houses and guarded by a few faithful Indians, who immediately came to our rescue. Spotted Horse died the next day of his wound, the Indians telling us that those who bound it up purposely left it so that he would bleed to death — the whole village being rejoiced to get rid of the tyrant. Young Mathers died in a few days and was buried on the bank of Willow Creek, the exact spot I am not now able to determine. This led to our removal to Plum Creek and to Mr. Mathers’ leaving the country. This going of Mr. Mathers was felt by some of us as a great loss, not only because of his work for the Pawnees, but for his social qualities, which were superior. He had read much and thoughtfully, his words were always well chosen, and were words of wisdom. His geological knowledge was

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much to us, and his poetical vein rendered his society the more charming. His well chosen library helped to charm away many hours, which would have been otherwise very tedious, as we never received our mails oftener than once in three months, our nearest post office being in Savanna, Mo., three hundred miles away. At one time we were six months without hearing anything from the active world we had left.24 On the return of the Pawnees in 1846, our pupils returned to us, and many others applied for admission, but twenty was the largest number I thought I could clothe and feed, teach and care for generally, and the others were bidden to wait. Though situated where we were continually visited by friends of the children and they were tempted to run home, yet we had little trouble and they improved rapidly. Their singing especially won the hearts of their friends, and content with the promise that we would keep our pupils close within the pickets, which it had been thought wise to place around our dwellings, they left us our twenty, very cheerfully when they started for their hunt. Freed from the hourly visits of the villagers great progress was made by our school that season. The boys worked with the men when not engaged with their books; the girls assisted in the cooking and general housekeeping and learned to sew, as we well knew work was one gospel that would save the Indians. But our plans were vain. The Sioux, who had not let more than two weeks pass during the year without proving to us their presence near, were now so continually coming in war parties that our men could do no work safely outside of the pickets. Finally they ventured to come down upon us in battle array, but evidently fearing to attack us behind our pickets, they were content to take horses from the

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stables and withdraw. A council was then held in which it was decided to be in vain to try to do anything for the Pawnees there, and removal to the agency was held the wiser course.25 Each family immediately began packing, and what could not then be carried away was “cached” to wait till the men could return for it. To pack our household goods and cook for twenty-two, who were to take a journey a hundred and twenty-five miles by ox team, and to be ready for the start in three days was no easy task; but it was completed by the third day, and Saturday, June 20, all the whites left for Bellevue, taking our pupils and three or four Indian children who were living in families connected with the mission. We crossed the Beaver that day and camped a short distance beyond for the Sabbath. The most exciting experience on our journey was that of crossing the Elkhorn, which we found swollen by the June rise. All the goods in each wagon must be removed, that they might be placed in a wagon box lashed to the top of another, or they would be soaked in the water. The box of our wagon was larger than the others and would best serve the purpose desired. All our goods were piled upon the ground in a confused mass to wait until everything was crossed. That we might cross most expeditiously, the women removed stockings and shoes and took a foot bath standing in the wagon as the oxen swam across, directed by their drivers. It was dark before our goods, drenched in the rain, which had been falling since the middle of the afternoon, were safe over; and then twenty children were to be fed and arrangements made for their sleeping. All this, added to the terror of seeing one of our faithful oxen killed instantly by the breaking of his neck, his large branching horns having become fast in the precipitous bank as he was about to enter the narrow path leading up

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from the water, made the Elkhorn a historic stream to me. Arrived at Bellevue, the families were easily housed. But we with our large company had the prospect of camping in skin tents, when a government store room was found empty, which, though infested with rats and fleas, we felt compelled to occupy. We reported to [Thomas Harvey] the Superintendent of Indian Affairs at St. Louis, as there was no agent at Bellevue. Maj. Miller had been too much interested in saving the Pawnees from the curse of liquor to suit the traders who visited them, and his official head fell into the basket. He gave place to one who had so long freely partaken that he soon paid the penalty by giving up his life. Another Daniel Miller received the appointment and he came up from Missouri to act as agent.26 His presence was no check to the wild excesses which the Indians and whites chose to practice. To keep in order and to secure the progress of our little family, with a room on one side of us where a blacksmith was making sheet iron kettles, and one on the other where an Indian woman lived with a white man, and where drunken orgies extended far into the night, while Indians rode through the streets whooping and screaming, with whisky bottles in their hands, required no little nerve and decision. Yet, amid all this with the added babble of five different languages spoken in our yard, our pupils did make commendable progress. When we arrived at Bellevue the Mormons were crossing the river in their flight from Nauvoo to take up their abode in winter quarters before going to Salt Lake. From their camp by permission of Brigham Young we procured aid to assist in fitting our children with clothing for the winter, and were visited by him and his twelve, part of them at various times, they taking a deep interest in our

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charge. Our agent, however, had no thought of showing such favor, and the next spring he ordered us to deliver the school into the hands of those whom he found to be in sympathy with his mode of administering offices.27 On leaving Bellevue we made our home in Iowa near the Missouri River, about four miles above old Ft. Kearny, now Nebraska City, where we remained till 1861, still keeping all acquaintance with our Pawnee friends. At that time learning that their treaty stipulations of 1857, promising them schools, had not been complied with we went to their reservation expecting immediately to gather a company of pupils to our home, as the agent, H. W. DuPuy, had given us the appointment of teachers.28 But under various pretenses we were forbidden the privilege of carrying out our cherished plan, and growing weary and outraged at the delay, we united with other employees who were there under similar disappointments, in sending an agent to Washington to report our grievances and if possible have matters righted.29 As we expected, as soon as this was known to the agent, we were ordered from the reserve and took refuge in a small earth-roofed cabin in the Mormon settlement, called Zigzag, the site of which now lies in the middle of the Loup (Loo) River.30 Our plea to the authorities at Washington was regarded, and another agent, Maj. [Benjamin F.] Lushbough began his administration, July 1, 1862, at which time we returned to the reserve and immediately gathered a school. The difficulties attending the dismissal of Mr. DuPuy caused an order to be issued that no voter who had been an actor in them should remain in the reservation. Mr. Platt, with others, was consequently dismissed from government service and went just across the eastern line of the reserve, about a mile away, to set up an independent

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trading post for the Pawnees; while I, who was not a voter, was permitted to stay as I greatly desired to continue the work, for which we had made so great a sacrifice in leaving our Iowa home. I remained in charge of the school till December 1864, when various considerations combined to cause me to resign and go out to work in the service of the Christian commission. I remained in this work till March of 1865, when being requested to take charge of the Soldier’s Orphan’s Home in Iowa, I accepted and served there till August 1866. Then I resigned and returned to Mr. Platt in Nebraska, who had occupied his trading post during my absence. In May 1867, I was asked to resume the charge of “my school,” for as such I had ever claimed it to be and from that time till July 1872, I had great enjoyment in its possession, Mr. Platt still remaining at his post, which was so near as to permit him to make daily visits to the school building. Grant’s peace policy had been inaugurated and the Friends had been given charge of the Indian reservation of Nebraska.31 Very naturally, when they became acquainted with the work, they desired to have it all under their immediate control. I was dismissed from service and went to my home where I remained till Mr. Platt’s death in September 1875. The next year I removed from the state, but in the autumn of 1883 I returned to assist in organizing an Indian industrial school at Genoa in the building which was erected for my Pawnee school in 1865. I remained in the state nearly two years and then left to establish myself in a permanent home in Tabor, Iowa. In Volume I of the Transactions and Reports of the Nebraska State Historical Society, I find communications proving the noble descent of Mr. Henry Fontenelle, of Decatur, Nebraska. It is for me to prove that Mrs. Emily Fontenelle,

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his wife, sprung also from the noblesse, not however on the father’s side. She was one of the two girls who were my pupils the first winter after our appointment as teachers to the Pawnee. Her mother, sister of Whiteman Chief, was a very superior woman in form, feature, bearing, and intellect. The Skedee [Pawnee] band, to which she belonged, was superior to the other three bands which formed the Pawnee tribe; its members had a higher grade of intellect, were more cleanly in their habits, and their language which was a dialect of the Pawnee, had a musical intonation, which betrayed the origin of the speaker the moment his voice was heard. When Emily was about seven years of age, her mother took her to Mrs. Mathers, the wife of the superintendent of the farms, and said this child, being a twin, was favored of God and was given to her white, and she thought it proper she should be educated with white people. Neither Whiteman Chief nor his sister was as dark as the average Indian, and their finely cut features, dignity of bearing, and accurate thinking proved them far above their surroundings. As the Pawnees originally came from the south it is not improbable that they sprang from some old Aztec king. Whiteman Chief went at one time on an embassy to Washington, and on his return had much to tell his people of the greatness of La-chi-Koots (Big Knives — Americans) and of their territory. In order to give them an idea of its vastness, he said, were he to start when a very young man and travel till he was old he would not have visited half of their cities. Of the wonderful things shown him, he told of a dish brought him with a substance that moved round in it like water, but when they told him to take it, it came near falling from his hands it was so heavy, and when it was poured into a cloth sack and he looked in to see it, it was not there. That was very wonderful. Then

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a gun was brought, and he saw the bullet put in pressed down, it was pointed at a target and he saw where the ball hit, but heard no sound. That was too-war-axty (miraculous) and he thought how good a thing for his people to have such guns; then, when the Sioux came, they could hide in the grass and the enemy would fall on every side wondering what had hit them. He was taken to the ocean and he essayed to look over on the other side, but he could not. He looked again and again, and there was no other side; it was so vast; it was like God. Another thing deeply impressed him. There were days when all of the people stopped their work, and dressing very nicely, they met in a large house and read and sang and talked — one man to the people — and then he spoke to an invisible one. The next day each one he met looked very happy and he saw them smiling and shaking hands and looking rested, and he thought it would be good for his people to have such days. The sister had no such means of proving her powers of observation, but in her motherhood, she showed greatness. She insisted her daughter should be kept in school, and when one of the chiefs of her band and Emily’s stepfather took her home because of a slight punishment she had received, the mother brought her back, telling her she was to stay and accept punishment, if it came — that she took a rod and whipped her if she offended even at home, and she was not to make all ado for any such little thing. But she was a woman of very sad face, always seeming to be bearing a mental burden, and when in after years I learned that Emily was a daughter of Mr. Pappan, one of the Fur Company at Bellevue, the mystery was explained, for in those days there was a high sense of chastity among the women of that people.32 So thoroughly had Emily learned the value of that virtue from her mother that her grief and

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indignation knew no bounds when first told that her father was a white man. She flung back the charge with disdain, saying she knew her mother had never proven untrue to her father — that she remembered him as an Indian and that he had died an honorable death. Emily continued in the school and went with us to Bellevue when we fled from the Sioux, and during all the years of her young womanhood though beset by temptations and entreaties even by those who had her in charge, to give herself to white suitors, she never trusted them but preferred one of her own race. Mrs. Fontenelle has long been a member of the Episcopal church and the more intimately she is known, the more she is beloved. She is possessed of a very amiable and affectionate spirit, but while possessed of these desirable womanly qualities she is by no means a weak character. Like all Indians she has an intense nature and whatever emotion moves her takes deep hold of every fiber of her being. She was early religiously impressed, and the more she learned the living truth, the more she deplored the ignorance and vice of her people, being so deeply impressed as to refrain from food, while she silently wept over their degradation. Her sense of justice was keen. After her marriage, while on a visit to us in Iowa in telling of the wrongs which she found the tribe to which her husband belonged as well as her own suffered at the hands of the white men, she vehemently exclaimed, “I do sometimes think that Satan is stronger than God — if I were he, I would stamp them under my feet.” During the same visit on inquiring into the then existing Kansas difficulties, the system of American slavery was explained to her. She listened in silence, while the cruel tyranny of many slaveholders was depicted, and when the speaker ceased she looked up and while a black cloud

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of scorn swept over her face said, “It is good enough for them, if they will be a slave; I will never be a slave to any man; I would cut my throat first.” She still lives, honored by her husband and beloved by the children, who are all now grown to manhood and womanhood.

Samuel Allis began his association with the Pawnee Indians in 1834 as a lay missionary. Later he was hired by the Indian Office to teach Pawnee children. Allis also served as an interpreter until 1861 when ill health forced his retirement. Immediately prior to his departure he vaccinated Pawnee children when it was feared there might be a smallpox outbreak.33

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Forty Years among the Indians and on the Eastern Borders of Nebraska rev. samuel allis I was born in Conway, Franklin Co., Mass., Sept. 28, 1805. My parents were members of the Congregational church of that place, Rev. John Emerson, pastor.34 I was dedicated to God in baptism at the age of five years, and like most in those days, raised to honor my parents. I was catechised by my mother on the Sabbath and taught to keep it holy. I was raised to industry and good morals, for which I have been ever thankful. My educational advantages were limited; consequently, should this come before the public they will not expect much that will interest them. I shall endeavor to give a short history of what has transpired during my life of seventy years, especially since my stay in the Indian country and on the western frontier.

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In my father’s family there were eight children, five boys and three girls. I was the sixth of the family. Four of us at this date, 1876, are living. At seventeen years of age I went to live with the Hon. Phineas Bartlet in Conway Center, to learn the saddle and harness trade. I stayed with him till I was twenty-one and sat under the preaching of Rev. Edward Hitchcock, afterwards president of Amherst College.35 After this I resided six months in Williamstown, Mass., where I worked at my trade. I was there under the influence [of] good society and religious privileges. Rev. Dr. Griffin was then president of Williams College.36 While there I thought I obtained a hope in Christ. From there I went to Troy, New York, and worked sixteen months with a Quaker friend by the name of Williams. Being among strangers and not having united with the people of God, I got somewhat back into the world but did not give up fully my hope in Christ. I then went to Ithaca, New York, and commenced work with a Mr. Kirkum, a good old Presbyterian. I worked for him and others until I left for the West. While in Ithaca I united, for the first, with the Presbyterian church under the charge of Dr. Wm. Wisner, who since died at his son’s, at Cedar Rapids, Iowa. In the winter of 1834 the church of Ithaca were desirous of raising funds to support a mission among the Indians and consequently made known their object to the A.B.C.F.M. The board approved and accepted their proposition and found a Rev. John Dunbar who was willing to go. He came to Ithaca and, with Rev. Samuel Parker and myself as assistants, was fitted out by the church under the patronage of the above named board of missions.37 We left in the spring of 1834 with instructions to cross the Rocky Mountains, destined to the Flatheads or Nez Perces. We proceeded by steamboat down the Cayuga Lake to the Erie Canal and took a packet

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boat for Buffalo, then took a steamer on Lake Erie. The wind blowing very hard, the captain became alarmed for the safety of the crew and stopped at Salem. We there took stage across Ohio. About three o’clock at night before we reached the Ohio River, it being a dark night and having a drunken driver, the stage upset, cutting a bad wound over my left eye. I tied my handkerchief over it. We soon got to a hotel where we changed horses and the driver for a sober one. We proceeded on safely and arrived at Beaver on the Ohio River about sunrise. We breakfasted and took a boat for Cincinnati. Here we stopped the Sabbath, went to church and heard Dr. Lyman Beecher, who was then president of Lane Seminary, Walnut Hill. Harriett Beecher Stowe’s husband was a professor.38 On Monday, took a boat for St. Louis; when we arrived there we found that the traders for the mountains, whom we intended to accompany, had gone.39 Ascertaining from the agent for the Pawnees that there was [not] a mission among that tribe, after conferring together and with the Indian agent, we decided that Rev. Parker should return by the way of Mackinaw, see a Mr. Stewart who was agent for the Hudson Bay Company, and get a reinforcement the coming spring in season to cross the mountains.40 Rev. Dunbar and myself proceeded on to the Pawnees. After conferring with the Pawnee agent we found we could not effect anything until the coming fall, when he would meet us with the Pawnees and make known our business. We proceeded to Fort Leavenworth and summered there, at Liberty, Clay Co., Missouri, and among the missions of the Kickapoos, Shawnees, and Delaware Indians. Their agent was Major Cornings, a good agent, who retained his office under the government some twenty years and had great influence with the tribes in his agency. The mission

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brethren treated us very kindly while we were there. Our time was agreeably spent in learning the Indian character, customs, and manners.41 At Liberty we spent some time and enjoyed the hospitality of Col. Doniphan, Mr. Morse, merchant, and Rev. Zantis, a Presbyterian minister. This was the spring after the Mormons were driven out of Jackson County, Missouri. I saw three or four families camped by the side of a large log with loose boards to shelter them from the winter storms, and dependent upon the hospitalities of Clay County people. I was at a meeting in Clay County court house between the Mormons and Jackson County citizens. I heard Joseph Smith make a speech. Col. Doniphan and Rev. Zantis took the part of the Mormons. Probably both parties were to blame, but many of the Jacksonites were desperadoes. I came very near being mobbed myself in going from the Shawnee mission to Liberty. If the Mormons had not been so persecuted formerly, probably they would not have become so numerous. Persecution is calculated to build up any religious sect. We spent some time at Fort Leavenworth. I had a letter of introduction to Major Thompson, from a nephew of Mrs. Thompson of Ithaca. We were kindly received by Major Thompson and other officers of the fort, also Major Morgan, sutler.42 Major Thompson commanded a regiment of infantry and was afterwards killed in the Seminole War. He was superseded by Col. [Henry] Dodge, who commanded a regiment of dragoons and was appointed provisional governor of Wisconsin, also elected United States senator. His son, A. C. Dodge, was also senator from Iowa, his colleague Senator Jones, and Hon. Bernhart Henn, representative — the first congressional term of Iowa.

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The Kickapoos in those days resided near Fort Leavenworth. The Prophet’s band had a sort of catholic form of worship.43 They would meet on the Sabbath for worship, and the prophet would preach in their language. When they broke up, they would form in a line and commence marching in single file three or four times around, saying or singing their prayers, which consisted of characters cut on a paddle, at the same time shaking hands with the audience as they passed by. The characters represented words. As they left they would repeat those prayers till they got to their Father’s house or heaven. Their house was marked at the top of the paddle. I had it on paper but lost it. They had three or four correctors, who carried whittled hickory sticks about the length of a raw hide. The tribe would meet on Fridays and confess their faults and receive three or four cuts by those correctors, according to the magnitude of their crime. There was a French trader by the name of Pensano, who traded with the Kickapoos. His trading house stood where Weston, Missouri, now is. Jos. Rubideau and sons traded with the Iowas and a small band of the Sacs and Foxes. His post was where St. Joseph now is, it being named after him. In those days there were plenty of deer, wild turkeys, prairie chickens, raccoons, squirrels, and other small game and abundance of bees. White settlers, in the spring of 1834, just commenced marking claims at the Nodaway River. At that time there were no settlements above Clay County, Missouri. Some two miles above Rubideau there were a few houses at a place called Jimtown. All of the country above Clay County has been settled up since. After spending the summer as I mentioned before, at and near Fort Leavenworth, we proceeded up to Bellevue, which was the agency for the Omahas, Otoes, and Pawnees. There we met the

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agent with the Pawnees in council. When he made known to them our object, they appeared much pleased that we came among them to teach them and their children and teach them the truth of the Great Spirit, for their minds are dark. After council with them, one of the chiefs of the Loup band wished one of us to go with him to his people, to which we consented. Rev. Dunbar went with the Grand Pawnees, and I with the Loups or Wolf Pawnees. They are divided into four bands, Grand Pawnees, Pawnee Tappags, Pawnee Republicans, and Pawnee Loups. The latter band speak a different dialect from the others, that is, different pronunciation of words and different names for some things, but their language is similar. The Arickarees upon the Missouri River, near the Mandans, speak a dialect similar to the Pawnees. The Otoes, Missouries, and Iowas speak the same. The Omahas, Ponca, Kaws, and Osages speak a similar language. After remaining three or four days at Bellevue, Nebraska, we separated, Rev. Dunbar going with the Grand Pawnees, and I with the Pawnee Loups. These were a delegation of the tribe who came to Bellevue to council with their agent and receive their annuities. Our first camp was at the fur company’s fort, about two miles above the present city of Omaha. Major Pitcher, in charge of the post, politely invited me to the fort to partake of his kind hospitalities.44 I declined the offer, knowing there must be a first time of Indian encampment. This was the first time I ever slept on the ground, and the novelty of it prevented sleep, but I had full confidence in my host and red traveling companions, although I knew nothing of their language. Our second camp was near the Elkhorn River. I was awakened about three o’clock in the morning by the Indians hurrying to saddle up and leave camp, as the prairies

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were on fire. This was the first sight of the kind I ever witnessed. I could see by their movements that we were in danger. All were hurrying to pack their ponies, and the reader can readily imagine something of the fix I was in, for I had two horses, a saddle and a pack horse. I do not often get excited, but have to acknowledge I was at this time. My host was true to me in assisting me to get away. I was as awkward in packing a horse as a monkey would be running a threshing machine, but I soon learned the art perfectly. The old chief deputized two young Indians to assist me, and even held my stirrups, as if I had been General Sherman or some other noted general. They have often talked and laughed at my first prairie experience, but I have since, for six months at a time, slept on the ground, without seeing a white man’s house. When I was once mounted I had to thank the good Lord for my deliverance. On that same trip, another party camped on the Platte bottoms; the fire surrounded them and burned to death four Indians and several horses. I have several times been exposed to prairie fires and sometimes had to fight to my utmost ability. I could relate many instances of great destruction of life and property among the traders and freighters from this cause. The third night we camped on the banks of the Platte River. There I learned my first Pawnee word — the name of the moon — and began to become acquainted with the Indians. Mine host, his braves and deputies took great pains to entertain me. The fourth night we arrived at the village. The chief introduced me to his queens — he had three — also to his children, six in number. As soon as I was seated the old queen placed before me a wooden bowl of buffalo meat and a dish of what the French trader calls bouillon, or the soup that the meat was boiled in, with a buffalo horn

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spoon. I had scarcely finished my bountiful meal before I had an invitation to dine with one of the members of the cabinet and was escorted to his wigwam with great pomp, my guide having painted his face to cover the dirt and put on his new robe. There I again had introductions to the squaws and children. I soon had several invitations from the cabinet officers, and if I could have conversed should have been as proud as any foreign minister. Having been feasted to my heart’s content I retired to rest on the best in the lodge, a pair of blankets, a robe, and a deer skin pillow filled with deer hair, which served as pillow and cushion both. The next day they were busy distributing their goods and getting ready for their winter’s hunt. I was sent for to go to the trader’s lodge. There I found three Canadian Frenchmen: Laforce Pappan, Francois Guittar, and a waiter by the name of Pierre. They were in the employ of Pierre Chouteau & Co., of St. Louis, who owned the trading post which I have mentioned on the Missouri River, above Omaha city. I felt somewhat relieved, for although they spoke broken English I could understand them. One of them, F. Guittar, is still living in Council Bluffs [Iowa].45 After we started on the hunt I was separated from my French friends and did not see them until Christmas. During this time I had no alternative but to learn the Indian language. I went at it in earnest, learning the names of things and soon got so as to put words together and connect sentences. Christmas came and I was spared to meet my French friends again. We got up at the chief’s lodge, in which Mr. Pappan traded, a dinner of buffalo sausage meat, fried fritters, and coffee. The women of the lodge also added to our sumptuous feast by their cookery. I trust I did not forget the object for which that day should be celebrated. I shall never

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forget that day, separated from home, Christian friends, and associates, but I trust God was with me. I had solemn reflections of the past, present, and future, and pleaded to Him who held even the destinies of the poor heathen, and asked him to enlighten them with that knowledge which will make them the heirs of eternal life. During the winter my time was engaged in various pursuits, learning the language, hunting buffaloes with the Indians, taking items in cooking, drying meat, dressing robes, and other employments, going to feasts, attending powwow balls, concerts, and medicine feasts, from all of which I could learn something useful. When one is called to feast they consider it is all his or hers they invite one to. In order to please you must take to the lodge in which you live all which you cannot eat; consequently I have carried many buffalo tongues, ribs, and other dishes to my boarding house or lodge. They watched, and some young miss or boy would meet me with a smile and receive the bounty, therefore they are glad to have one feasted abroad often. When I went buffalo hunting with the Indians they would give me tongues and ribs as presents, which were always agreeable to my hostess. They have soldiers for the buffalo hunt, appointed by the chiefs, whose duty is to keep order. They keep young men and women from the buffalo towards the village, least they frighten the buffalo away. If any is caught in the direction of the buffalo, or go hunting without a general order from the chiefs, he gets a severe flogging. When the order is given for a hunt they prepare and go together, the soldiers taking the lead. When they get near the buffalo they dismount and prepare for the chase. They again mount their ponies, the soldiers still leading till they are discovered by the game, when the soldiers give the word

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“go,” and then everyone for himself. Those who have the fastest horses, and are the most expert with the bow and arrow, kill the most game. They often make a charge on a herd of ten or twelve hundred, killing four or five hundred at one “surround.” An Indian knows when he shoots the buffalo in the heart; he often does it at the first shot. He rides after another and so on until the game is scattered beyond reach. They then look up their game. Every Indian knows his own arrows and seldom has any disputes in this respect. If the Nimrod finds a footman skinning buffalo, he looks on like a lord and gives the poor man half of the meat but reserves the skin. In this way the poor get meat for their families. Some Indians kill as many as three or four at one “surround.” When he finishes he puts for home, not waiting for the others. The last ones on the ground are in danger of the enemy and have been attacked in this way by the Sioux. When they commence a chase there are no wolves in sight but before they leave the ground the coyotes are running about like dogs for the spoils. Now comes the cutting and drying the meat, feasting, making medicine feasts, etc. The women cut and prepare the meat, dress the skins, and make moccasins. The men can and do make moccasins while on the war path. The women get most of the wood and water and do most of the drudgery, while the men kill the game and the boys take care of the horses. They often get scoldings or whippings for neglect in their duties. There are more broils, jealousy, and family quarrels caused by horses than all other troubles combined. The horse frequently causes separation between man and wife, sometimes for life. The Indians are great gamblers, especially the men and boys. The women sometimes gamble in small articles when they get time. The men do it largely from a horse down to

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a butcher knife. They have three or four ways of gambling similar to billiards, using the ground for a table. They receive one benefit from it, that is exercise. They are great for feasting. I have often been called to twenty or thirty feasts in one day; perhaps that is the cause of my being such a great eater. I acquired the habit while with them on their hunts. They eat several times a day when they have plenty, and when they have it not, fast without complaining. The most delicious dish with them is the young taken from the buffalos they kill; the younger the better — the more tender. Besides the buffalo they kill elk, deer, bear, beaver, otter, raccoons, badger, and other small game, and sometimes dogs when they get short of food. I partook of a dog feast once and it would have eaten well if I had not known what it was. In the spring and fall they dig large quantities of wild potatoes that grow in the sand among the willows. These have often kept them from starving. They raise quite a quantity of corn, beans, pumpkins, and squashes. A long time before the white man brought hoes, axes, knives, etc., among them they used flint rocks for axes, knives, arrow points, etc.; the shoulder blade of the buffalo for hoes; and made stone ware for kettles. Some of the poor old squaws used those pots after I went among them. Some used dogs for hauling their baggage by tying two poles, about eight feet long, at one end over the dog’s neck and two cross sticks behind the dog, forming a litter, then place a pack of seventy or one hundred pounds, according, to the size of the dog. These animals travel with the caravan of some two thousand souls, besides horses, mules, and jacks. In crossing a stream some of the important Indians would pitch a dog that happened to be in the way, heels over head, pack and all, which would

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cause a cry among the canines, answered from all sides by the wolves, and causing many ejaculations from the old women against their lords. At some of their old places that had been deserted I have found relics of pottery, knives, arrow points, and other stone curiosities that were used many years before. They are very apt in sleight of hand, such as swallowing sticks, knives, arrows, etc. They will also let a person shoot a gun at them but are careful to load it themselves. They have medicine men as doctors, priests, and so on, who practice their deceptions on the majority of their people. These old humbugs rank with chiefs and braves and control most of the tribe as they please. They are initiated into the order while young and trained to practice deception. I do not know that they have a high priest who alone enters the holy of holies once a year; but they have priests who alone handle their sacred oracles, and the common people are not permitted to enter such places while they are in session. They have altars and burn the heart and tongue of some animal in devotion to the Great Spirit. Every priest has a sacred bundle made up of a variety of nonsense, consisting of the skins of eagles, hawks, owls, cormorants, woodcocks, and a variety of small birds which are considered as war birds; also skulls of panthers, wildcats, and other animals; medicine pipes and arrows taken from their enemies in battle, or presents from other tribes in peace parties. Arrows and pipe stems are tied on the outside of the bundle; the small birds are stuffed and enclosed in a buckskin bag with a draw string around the neck, the head sticking out. The arrows have killed some of their enemies and many have been handed down and preserved for generations.

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When a party goes to war or on a friendly visit, before leaving some priest makes a feast and the warrior attends. The priest fills a sacred pipe, consecrates it, and ties a piece of skin over the bowl. The warrior takes it with him for success. If on a friendly visit he presents it and it is accepted and they smoke the pipe together. The peace is good. They exchange pipes and presents, receive goods, horses, etc. When they go on the war path they have two objects in view, to kill, and to steal horses; but they generally prefer stealing without killing, as they do not endanger themselves so much as by killing. When they go on the calumet dance the Indian adopts a son in the tribe to which he goes, makes a bundle of goods worth from twenty to one hundred dollars, presents them to his adopted son. His son’s friends are invited to the bale of goods and each takes a blanket, shroud, or some other article and gives a horse. In this way one often gets from ten to twenty horses for thirty or forty dollars worth of goods. We returned in the spring to their permanent village, not having made a good hunt on account of the Arickarees being in their country, traveling above them, consequently driving off the buffalo. The home of the Arickarees is upon the Missouri River above the Mandans as I mentioned before, and they speak a similar dialect. They came down on a visit. They are bad Indians, and the Pawnees were glad to get rid of them. They are a very superstitious tribe and often cut their arms and breasts as acts of mourning, to appease the Deity. When Gen. Harney made a reconnaissance up the Platte in 1835 the Arickarees got wind of his coming. They were then camped at the forks of the Platte and left the day before the soldiers arrived.46 The

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latter found a bundle tied to a pole with an Indian’s finger wrapped in it. What their object was no one could tell. They relate a story of a beautiful young Arickaree girl in their tribe to whom several young Indians made proposals of marriage by offering horses and other presents, all of which she rejected. At length one young Indian by improper advances succeeded in seducing her. After an act of mourning she from day to day frequented a certain bluff, a little dog accompanying her. Finally she and the dog became a monument of rock and are there to this day. I leave the reader to believe this or not. I do not, but relate the Indian story as it was told me. Such are their superstitions, which they are full of, but useless to relate. The condition of the wandering tribe is such there is little hope of benefiting in any way their spiritual condition; but we should not give up the hope, for we are commanded to go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature. They are trained to kill and steal from each other, and it is difficult to make permanent peace; when they do, it is only for selfish purposes and they often break the peace no matter how sacred. They have frequent alarms of the approach of their enemies which are often false. They live in constant fear, yet bring much of it on themselves. Most of the tribes kill and plunder for the sake of honor and distinction; the more scalps an Indian can count the greater the man in their estimation. As a mark of distinction, when a man can wear a polecat skin on one knee and an otter on the other with hawk bills fastened to the tails of the skins he feels as grand as a lord. Most of the chiefs inherit their chieftainship, hence they are numerous, but the majority have little influence. Some of their best chiefs are made so by their agents. They are

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like the white man, crafty to gain distinction, but are more honest than our politicians, for they do not rob and plunder the government — had rather steal from each other. They are more hospitable than we are. If a white man goes among them they do not wait for him to beg, but set before him the best they have to eat, sometimes asking for tobacco, for they know it comes from that source. If we go among them they will divide their last meal without stopping to see if we are going to pay for it. They returned from their summer hunt the last of September 1835 with a large quantity of dried buffalo meat; put on the kettles and greased the door posts. Here could be seen feasting in earnest. Their feasts consist of meat, corn, beans, and pumpkins, drumming and pow-wowing, day and night. If a person was not used to their noise he could not sleep. Their corn crop was good, and as they had plenty to eat they enjoyed it hugely. Their permanent lodges are in shape of a large coal pit except an entrance that projects out some ten feet; five feet wide and the same in height.47 They build round with two tiers of large forks, the inner forks the higher, with strong poles in the forks; then long poles upon top reaching to the center of the lodge with small willows tied crosswise with bark to the poles; and covered with hay and dirt to the depth of six or eight inches, a round hole cut in the center for the smoke to pass out. But some of their lodges smoke so badly that a person gets a good share of the smoke before it passes out. The fire place is made in the center of the lodge by digging a circular hole in the ground four feet in diameter and six inches deep, with forks for a pole to hang kettles on. Some of their largest lodges are fifty to sixty feet in diameter, the entrance usually facing the east, though in what consists this singular superstition I do not

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know. The berths or beds are neatly built in a hollow circle at the back of the lodge, two feet high, with willows put upon forks. The partitions between the berths are built light of small willows or flags; the front built in the same manner, with a hole in the center large enough for a man to crawl into. A place is reserved in rear opposite to the entrance. This has no front partition but is left open for their guns, bows and arrows, whips, and for their sacred bundle, buffalo skulls, and other sacred relics. This was my berth or bedroom. They often put much before the old skulls and say they eat it when they know that the hungry dogs devour it. I will now give a description of their skin or traveling lodges. These are built of dressed skins from their summer’s hunt that are useless for robes. They take the hair off and dress them soft for lodges, except a few that they leave for parflesh, for meat bales, corn bags, and moccasin soles. Their lodge skins are dressed similar to elk or deer skins, sewed together with sinew in such a shape as to form a hollow circle. The largest contain as many as sixteen to eighteen buffalo skins and are set up with long, straight, peeled, and seasoned poles. When they are on the move these poles are tied three or four together on each side of their ponies, fastened below the packs, and drawn with one end dragging on the ground. The ponies drag these poles, besides carrying two bales of meat, weighing eighty pounds each, or four bushels of corn, and in addition to this, perhaps, two kettles, palls, and other traps, and perhaps a papoose and two or three pups. Soon after we got to the village, I started with Brother Dunbar and some sixteen Indians for Fort Leavenworth. We went for our mail, and on other business, and the Indians for goods. The first night we camped on the fork

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of the Big Blue River. Here we found some excellent wild plums. The second day about 3 p.m. we arrived at the Big Nemaha, where one of the chiefs killed a yearling elk, also found a bee tree — cut the limb off with my hatchet and got about two gallons of honey. We stopped for the night, of course, and devoured the elk and honey. Here we met with two Frenchmen and had jolly times, feasting and smoking — in the latter of which I never indulge. Next morning we started on our journey, and camped on Salt Creek — a little stream near the fort; went into the fort in the morning. We stopped three days and started back by way of Bellevue; stopped a day or two there, then left for the village, and arrived after fifteen days’ absence. We found the women busy harvesting their crops and preparing for the winter hunt. When they go on their hunt they take several sacks of sweet corn and beans, dry corn for mush, dried pumpkins, dig a quantity of wild potatoes — they grow in abundance up the Platte bottoms — these they boil, peel, and dry, and cook with dried pumpkins. They made a good hunt in the winter of 1836, killed buffalo, also some elk and deer, at the head of Grand Island. There were plenty of large rushes on the island in those days, and the deer were very fat. They also caught plenty of beaver and otter that autumn, it being warm. They had a skirmish with the Sioux, but had no success from the fact that there was an Indian with the Sioux who was once a Pawnee. He had been killed in battle by their enemies and left on the battlefield to be devoured by wolves and ravens. The wolves finally gathered his bones together and restored him to life, when he went among other tribes, on account of the barbarous treatment of his own people in leaving him to be so devoured. And whenever he came

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to war with the enemy it was useless for the Pawnees to fight, for their guns would flash in the pan, and their bowstrings break. His name was Pahocatawa — I do not know the meaning. He will probably exist as long as there is a Pawnee; they report having seen him several times. They also say that if an Indian or squaw is scalped alive in any tribe, he or she is discarded and goes to live with a scalped tribe underground, probably meaning dugouts. An old Indian told me once he knew one of his tribe to whom appeared a beaver that wanted him to give the beaver his three sons — for he had three — to go and live in the beaver’s family; by doing so he would prosper and have good success through life. He refused, for he loved his sons much. The animal then asked for two, but still he declined, when the beaver left apparently very much dissatisfied. It bore heavily on his mind for some time after the beaver left, and he began to have bad luck. Finally he could not sleep nights so he — after consulting the Great Spirit — made up his mind to accept the proposition in part. He was satisfied that the Great Spirit was displeased with his former decision, for he had had bad luck ever since the beaver left. The proposition was agreed to by the beaver, and he returned with the messenger and took one of the sons. The boy lived several years with the beaver tribe and finally returned to his father a fine looking fellow — I believe many Indians would improve their appearance in a similar way. I do not know how far that father’s faith would compare with Abraham’s in offering up his son Isaac, but it would appear from the history to be more selfish. I did not learn, but probably, like Nebuchadnezzar, he ate grass and his finger nails grew like eagle’s claws. I could mention other similar superstitions which appear foolish, and might not interest the reader. The beaver story

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reminds me of one thing I have observed. They appear to be divided into clans or families: the Buffalo, Elk, Deer, Wolf, Bear, Beaver, Otter, Eagle, Owl, Hawk, etc. Although they intermarry from one clan to another, still they are tenacious to their own, as it is evident by their names and paintings. One Indian will always paint a bear, another an eagle, etc., on his skin lodge. The clans or families exist, so far as I have learned, among all Indian tribes; some of them consider the wolves so near relatives that they will not kill them. The most of them sometimes appear wolfish, as if they partook of the animal’s nature. Yet, notwithstanding their numerous superstitions, many of them are, in point of intellect, superior to the Negro race. I was United States interpreter some eight years; heard many speeches to the government officers from the president down and know them to be good orators. In tact and good sense some of their speeches would not disgrace the halls of Congress. They are uneducated, hence their superstitions. Unlearned white men are often superstitious, and even learning and better judgment do not always prevent it. It is generally supposed that there is not much ceremony in their courtships, but it is a mistake. When an Indian sees a squaw he wishes to marry, he goes to the lodge and sits down on the outside. He sits there for some time in a humble attitude, with his head in his blanket or robe, without speaking to anyone; then leaves and repeats his visit the next day; takes the same humble posture for a while, then departs. On the third visit he ventures into the lodge and seats himself at the back of the lodge in the same humble attitude, and leaves without making known his business — but it is understood. On the fourth visit he takes the same position, and if his visits are agreeable the

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father or guardian invites him to the fire. When some few visible steps are taken for success, he returns and his friends make some presents. He is then invited to the affianced’s lodge and takes her to his; some of his friends give one or more horses according to rank or number of horses. They don’t leave to enjoy the honeymoon, but he lives with her in her father’s lodge. It is customary for a young man to marry into a family, and if there is more than one daughter he takes the oldest, and so on as fast as they mature, and gives an extra horse for every additional wife. In this way one sometimes gets as many as six or seven wives. They are like the Mormons in some ways; the oldest wife is Sister Young or Sister Kimbal and so on, and is mistress of the lodge. Each woman, however, has her own bundle of meat, corn, etc., and takes her turn in cooking; and the lord sleeps by turns in different parts of the lodge to avoid jealousy. Some of them have their women in different lodges and own a share in each lodge. In this way they fare better. They have so much system in cooking, dressing robes, corn fields, and other work that they get along better than one would suppose. My travels with the Indians are now closed. I have been with them two winters and one summer, in all about sixteen months, for the purpose of acquiring their language. I have advanced considerably in the knowledge of the same, learned something of their manners and customs. I have feasted and sometimes fared hard, but have no reason to complain. They have invariably shown me kindness, and I am convinced that when the Indians learn a person and prove him to be their friend, they are kind and generous; but such is the treatment of them by the majority of white men that go among them that they have no confidence in

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the white man until they prove him. I shall say more on the subject hereafter. I forgot to mention that a year ago (1835) Rev. Saml. Parker returned with Dr. Marcus Whitman on their way to the Flatheads and Nez Perces over the Rocky Mountains. They were in company with Mr. Fontenelle, trader at Fort Laramie near the Black Hills.48 I accompanied them up the Platte as far as Pawnee village. While we were traveling up the Platte valley, near where Fremont [Nebraska] now is, Mr. Parker remarked that before forty years church bells would be ringing there — meaning the Platte country. It is not thirty-six years yet, and we have years ago seen what he predicted, and the vast structure of the Union Pacific Railroad completed, and towns and cities have sprung up even on the mountain tops. But to the subject before us. The missionaries arrived at their destination and established their mission. Brother Parker returned to New York by the Sandwich Islands, and Dr. Whitman returned on horseback in the winter of 1836, and went to Washington to transact some important business connected with what is now Washington Territory, which was likely [to] fall into the British possessions. The spring following Dr. W. came back with a reinforcement of his wife, Rev. H. H. Spalding and wife, and Mr. Gray, for the Oregon mission; and Dr. B. Satterlee and wife, and Miss E. Palmer — now my wife — for the Pawnee mission. I heard of their coming and went to Liberty Landing to meet them. We stopped at Col. Allen’s. There Mrs. Satterlee died of consumption. This looked dark for us to part with her before she reached her field of labor, but we tried to become reconciled and feel that it was the hand of God. By request of Dr. S. and her friends we called in the physicians of Liberty, and Dr. Whitman performed

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the operation of opening and examining her lungs, which proved to be a bad case of consumption. The next day we followed her remains to the grave — the home of all the living. We then returned to our boarding house with sad hearts, with one of our number left behind, or gone before to her eternal rest in heaven. Mrs. Satterlee was from Fairfield, New York. She had a brother, Dr. Wm. Mathew, who was a professor in the Medical College in Fairfield. Dr. S. was from Elmira, New York.49 One week after Mrs. Satterlee died we were married by Rev. Spalding destined to the Oregon mission. When I went down the river from Bellevue to Liberty, I went on the fur company’s boat and engaged a passage for our trip up the river; but when the boat returned there was another captain, who would not stop to take us on board; consequently I had to purchase a wagon and three yoke of oxen and go up by land. Our Oregon brethren bought horse teams and left us at the Big Nemaha. We proceeded up [to] the Platte. When we got there found the June freshet had swollen the river, which was full almost to the banks. We procured a skin canoe of the Otoe Indians and hired a white man to help us. We had to make several loads, but the doctor and our man were good swimmers. We swam over half a mile before we could reach the opposite shore. We finally got across, loaded up, and started for Bellevue, which was about fourteen miles distant. After arriving at Bellevue, I procured four acres and a garden spot — this was in June of 1836 — and raised a good garden and some corn. The Pawnees at this time were about to change their location; consequently we could not move out until they had moved to their new home, which was on their reservation where they have since resided until the

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spring of the present year — 1876 — when they were moved to the Indian Territory.50 Myself and wife stopped at Bellevue, and Messrs. Dunbar and Satterlee went out to spend the summer with the Indians, on their summer’s hunt. They were gone about two months and returned to us at Bellevue; stayed about two months with us and went back for their winter’s hunt. I ought here to mention that Brother Dunbar went east for a wife, and got a small book published in the Pawnee alphabet, and words, and syllables, and returned in the spring, with his wife.51 I went to St. Louis in February with P. A. Sarpy, on horseback, and returned in April with Brother Dunbar and wife. Left St. Louis on the sixth of April, 1837. First night stopped at Luten Island, above the mouth of the Missouri River. There came a snow eighteen inches deep — was fourteen days going from St. Louis to Bellevue — got home and planted some corn — got the varioloid from a Jim Beckwith who resides with the Blackfeet Indians. This Beckwith was a Negro. He gave the smallpox to several on the boat, three of whom died on their way up the river. Several of the Indian tribes above caught the smallpox. Beckwith and some 20,000 died of it.52 After they had traveled several days on their winter’s hunt, Dr. Satterlee left with the Pawnees for Bent and Sauvrois’ fort on the Arkansas River.53 On their way back, when they got below the forks of the Platte, they discovered a smoke near the head of Grand Island. The Indians said it was probably Sioux and proposed going around the bluffs. The Platte bottoms were wide there. The doctor told them that they could go around, but he was going straight down the Platte. Above there, however, his horse had died, and he hung his saddle on a tree. When the Indians left him

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he was afoot. They were about seventy miles from the Pawnee village. The two Indians got to the village, but the doctor never arrived. The smoke mentioned proved to be from the camp of three Indian traders, two men and a boy. The head man’s name was Brady, who had some dispute with the other man, who probably killed Brady. The doctor being present, and probably taking Brady’s part, was also killed. The man and boy came to the Pawnee village; the man being wounded in the bowels, appeared to be crazy, raised up from his bed in the night, tried to tear open his wound, and to kill the boy. He left the Pawnees and was supposed to die from his wounds, or killed himself. In June, afterwards, some men were coming down the Platte in skin boats, loaded with robes; when landed at Plum Creek, near the head of Grand Island, found the clothes of Dr. Satterlee, his bones, some hair, and his rifle standing by a bush, with the muzzle down, and the powder horn banging on the gun. Some of his ribs were broken. His silver pencil was found in his pocket, and a paper with some writing. He was brave, and a good shot, and would not stand to be killed without defending himself, and probably shot the crazy man, and died in self-defense. Here we were deprived of another of our associates. The doctor’s bones were left to bleach on the prairies and to be destroyed by the wolves. His labors were short, but his heart was in the work.54 Mr. Dunbar went to housekeeping in an old trading house at Bellevue, and we still lived, during the summer, with a Frenchman, where we spent the year previous. In the autumn I built a temporary house to live in, until we could move to the Pawnees. August 7, 1837, our first child [Henry Allis] was born. Just previous to this Gen. Atchinson moved the Pottawattomies where we now live opposite Bellevue. Dr. Edwin

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James was their agent.55 The doctor was the surgeon in Major Long’s expedition across the Rocky Mountains. There is a peak in the mountains called James’ Peak. When I came to this country he was in Delivan’s temperance office in Albany, New York. I called to see him for the purpose of getting some information, then expecting to cross the Rocky Mountains. He made a good agent, stopped boats as government required, and examined them to see if they had liquor on board. He was so strict a temperance man that the Indian traders used their influence to get him away. The Indian department offered him a situation among the Osages but he declined it. Our son died at thirteen months old and was buried at Bellevue, where we then resided. It was a sad bereavement.56 When I first arrived at Bellevue Rev. Moses Merrill was there as missionary to the Otoes from the Baptist Board of Missions. They soon moved to their location at the Platte River six miles from Bellevue. He died there and was buried near where Smith’s saw mill now is, southwest of Council Bluffs [Iowa].57 There was also a Baptist mission established in 1837 or 8 — Rev. Samuel Curtis and wife, missionaries. They stopped awhile at Bellevue until the agent established a smith’s shop among the Omahas; they were then located at Blackbird Hills near where the Omahas now reside.58 Mr. Curtis was appointed teacher for the Omahas. His house was built at government expense and cost some twelve or fourteen hundred dollars. He moved up and staid about a year, then moved back to Bellevue; the smith also moved back. The agent sent men to appraise the house, as the mission board was to defray half the expense of building it. They took off the doors and windows and cached them

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and some Indians burned the house. Here was an expense of some sixteen hundred dollars to the government, and I don’t know how much to the mission board, without any benefit to the Indians. He had no influence with them. The board and government withdrew their support, and he was left on his own resources. He lived about a year in that condition until he exhausted his means of support; then wishing to return to the States for his wife’s sake, the people made up a subscription paper, and I circulated it and raised means, with what little they had, sufficient to take him back. I don’t mention this to speak disrespectfully of missionaries, or the cause in which they are engaged, but to show how likely they are to fail if not competent for their work. Mr. Curtis could preach a good sermon and probably would be useful in the states, where all was pleasant and agreeable, but did not succeed with the Indians. An Indian missionary needs to be as wise as a serpent and as harmless as a dove. Missionaries have a great many trials, therefore need strong faith in God and His promises. They need to pray much, labor much, and be kind and affectionate to the heathen tribes among whom they dwell in order to gain their affections to win them to Christ, and then they may fail. The influence of Indian traders and sometimes government officials and employees, is bad. This, together with their superstitions and heathenish practices, retard the progress of missionary labor. Christians in gospel lands don’t pray enough and give enough to aid missionaries in their arduous work. It is consoling to them to know that many of their brethren meet at the monthly concert of prayer to pray that God will bless those who give their lives and spend most or all of their days in heathen lands away from civilized society and dear friends.

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On account of the hostility of the Sioux we stopped with our families at Bellevue until the spring of 1841, when we moved out on the reservation, where we commenced operations.59 There was connected with us one year George B. Gaston and wife. He then became one of the government farmers, of whom there were four, who broke considerable prairie for the Indians. There were also two blacksmiths, with their assistants as strikers. These were in compliance with treaty stipulations. We were divided into two settlements as soon as we could prepare buildings. Geo. Gaston, that I mentioned as being one of the farmers, after leaving the Pawnee country moved to Tabor, Fremont Co., Iowa, where he resided until last year, when he departed this life, a consistent, earnest Christian. His family still reside at Tabor. The forepart of January 1844, I moved my family to the upper station, three miles from Mr. Dunbar.60 The snow was so deep we had to go up on the ice of the Loup fork of the Platte to the mouth of Willow Creek near our residence. We suffered severely that winter, beginning anew and not being very well provided for. It was also hard on the stock. My calves all died and I froze my fingers several times milking. We had a young babe three weeks old, and the house not very warm. March was the most severe of the winter, and I think it was the coldest winter I have experienced in this country. Myself, wife, and three children in one bed, and the last calf at the foot of the bed, and even then it died.61 The Indians lost most of their horses and several of the Indians froze to death. Many froze their feet and hands, and one Indian boy froze his limbs so badly he walked several years on his knees till he died. In the spring I commenced in earnest to fence me a gar-

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den and little field; broke the ground, finished my house, built stables, sheds, and was well provided for the coming fall. The winter of 1845 was warm and mild and we were well secured from the cold, for which we were thankful. Passed the winter comfortably. The summer of 1845 I built a schoolhouse, did the work myself, at the beginning of which I split my foot from big toe to instep, two-thirds, through my foot.62 My wife was there at the time. She did not stop to look at the cut, but ran home one-fourth of a mile and sent a man back with a horse. During this time I hobbled about on my heel and picked up my tools. I then rode home and it just commenced bleeding. There was no one who dared sew it up, and I had to do it myself. When I had nearly finished I fainted from pain and loss of blood. It was some time before I could get about to do much. I recollect caning an Indian some three months after for stealing my corn. Some of them are consummate thieves — that is, the women and the lower class of men, for if they were caught at it they were not much disgraced since they had little influence. The spring preceding I commenced school and the chiefs would set their old criers — daily journals — to harangue the village, and on came two or three braves leading a band of some hundred and fifty children. Not more than one-third could get into the house. I had a card with large letters on it and would point with a long stick and name the letter and they would repeat it after me. When they had read, the braves would turn them out and fill the house with another flock, and so on till they had all finished reading. The braves would then lead them home. Their attendance was very fluctuating, some days if they were not harangued there would be but thirty or forty. They soon, however, got so they could repeat the letters without my telling them.

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But when winter came or when they went on their hunts they would take their children with them because they were afraid of the Sioux; consequently the most of what had been learned would be forgotten. Their being molested in this way by their enemies retarded our usefulness, besides our families were in danger, our women being in constant fear when the Pawnees were on their hunts. The Sioux and Poncas came several times, killed some of our cattle and stole our horses in the absence of the Pawnees. One time my wife was shot [at] at brother Ranney’s out in the yard going from the chicken house toward the house.63 She heard a noise like the snap of a gun, looked around, and saw two Indians standing about four rods from her. One had a gun, the other was fixing the flint. She was so frightened that it appeared to prevent her running until they shot at her. She had a child in her arms. There were two balls in the gun, one lodged in a log, the other passed through the chinking and lodged in the house back of the bed. As she ran past the corner of the house she staggered and they suppose[d] that they had shot her for they went home and reported that they had killed a white woman. She then ran home, but how she got through the fence she does not know. She got into the house, fell or sat down on the floor, and said that the Sioux shot at her and Mr. Ranney. I caught my gun and ran up to Mr. Ranney’s. The Indians had then got about twenty rods away. I hailed them. They then turned and shot at me. They shot at my dog, and one of the party shot one of our best work oxen and killed him. That night we gathered all the women and children into one house and we men stood guard, but they did not come back to molest us. They frequently came to our houses when the Pawnees were absent on their hunts, but generally in small parties. They were

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sometimes friendly, and sometimes not so much so. They would leave our houses and go to the village and burn some of the lodges; and if in summer time, would ride through the corn fields, cut and destroy the corn. They were often lurking about in small parties when the Pawnees were at their village for the purpose of killing some poor squaws who were after wood or in their corn fields. Sometimes would steal a few horses. This is the custom of all tribes with their enemies and the Pawnees are as bad as any other tribe in this respect. One time the women of one of the Pawnee Loup chiefs were out after wood, and a Sioux Indian lay skulking in the bush watching them like a wild animal for his prey. A Pawnee saw him. He was so intent watching the women he did not see the Pawnee until he had crept near enough to capture him. He took the fellow to the village and gave him up to the husband of the squaws. This Sioux, they said, had killed two women of the same chief the previous year. The chief said he thought a good deal of his squaws but would not kill the Indian, and gave him to a chief of another band, who kept him some time and protected him from the Pawnees until the spring following. The chief had Mr. Sarpy in his lodge trading robes. The traders build a breastwork of lodge skins, some five feet high, at the back of the lodge to trade behind and to protect their goods. A grand Pawnee brave came into the lodge with his gun. The Sioux was sitting by the fire when the Pawnee struck him with the butt of his gun on his head. The Sioux, although stunned by the blow, jumped up and made a leap to get in where the trader was, but they jerked him back, and in less than a minute they had him out of the lodge, and all the old squaws that could get at him were beating him with their hoes and axes, giving the war whoop and pow-

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wowing over him. Such is the Indian practice — an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, only more so. Sometimes the Sioux came in large parties and attacked them in their villages, and have sometimes driven them from their village, killed several, and stole most of their horses and mules, and burned the village. Some three years after we first moved among them, and they had not all moved over from the Platte — the Loup band had moved, and the other three had partly moved, and had built about sixty lodges. They were attacked early in the morning by a large party of Sioux. They fought until about 2 p.m. Some Pawnees came eighteen miles to assist, but few of the Loup band assisted. They staid at home and fortified their village. The Sioux would make a charge from a high bluff one-fourth of a mile from the village, kill some, fire some lodges, steal some horses, and ride back to the partisan on the bluff; at his command would make another charge, and so on until they had killed about sixty Pawnees, stole several hundred horses, and fired thirty lodges. The Pawnees finally all got into the principal chief’s lodge, made portholes, his horse pen was filled with horses, and there was a desperate battle. Several Sioux were shot, but they would throw their dead and wounded across their horses and carry them off to prevent their being scalped. The Sioux finally found the Pawnee fire too hot for them and retreated back on their trail with their booty. The Pawnees were so badly frightened they threw their dead into corn caches and heads of ravines, covered them lightly, picked up some of their traps and left some in their lodges, crossed the river, and went about three miles that night. It was on the twenty-seventh of June, I think, in 1845. The next day we went to the village; found two dead Pawnees and one Sioux, which we buried; also found a

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Pawnee lying in the grass near a creek below the village with one leg broken at the knee. We took him home with quite a number of their traps. There were seventeen dead ponies near the principal chief’s lodge. The head chiefs of two of the bands and several of the Republican band, La Shappell, the interpreter (Spanish), with several of their braves — in fact their best fighting men — were mostly killed. The women and children were barricaded in the chief’s lodge.64 They made the attack on Middle Chief, who was head chief of the tribe, early in the morning about a mile from the village. He was on foot, with a double barrel gun but no load in it; he kept retreating and pointing the gun at them. They fired several shots at him, and shot arrows at him, but did not hit him. I had Dr. Satterles’s amputating instruments in my house and offered to amputate the Indian’s broken limb; he said he would rather die. I told him he would in that situation, and he died in about three days, mortification took place and killed him. One Pawnee brave was killed near where the battle first began. His head and hands were severed from his body, and a rifle, with a dint in the barrel, stuck into his body up to his neck, and he was shot full of arrows; such is the cruelty of Indians. We were where we could see most of the battle, but thought best not to interfere. Sin is the cause of all battles. If all nations, civilized and heathen, were Christians indeed, and would follow the true principles of Christianity, there would be no wars. We remained at the Pawnees’ about four years and four months and left in August 1846.65 While there we labored hard in building houses, making conveniences for our cattle, breaking ground for our fields and gardens — which we were obliged to do as means of subsistence — at the same

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time trying to teach the Indians and benefit them as much as we could, hoping the way would be opened, that we could be made useful to them, and exert an influence for their spiritual welfare, but our hopes were soon blighted by the frequent hostilities of the Sioux, and the neglect of government to give them the protection they had promised; consequently much hard labor and expense were lost. We were in the country eight years, doing what we could to prepare the way, before we could move among them with our families. During that time, Brother Dunbar and myself traveled with them some eighteen months, for the purpose of acquiring a knowledge of their language, manners, and customs. The remainder of the time we were with our families at Bellevue, living in suspense, hoping that the way might be opened that we could go among them. During that time we had but little access to them, but more with the Otoes and Omahas, who were living most of that time near Bellevue. I could understand considerable of their languages, especially that of the Otoes, whose language is pretty and easily acquired. When we finally left the Pawnee country, before leaving we held a council with the government employees and decided that it was not safe for us to remain there any longer, for by doing so we exposed ourselves and families. A few days before leaving, a party of Sioux came to our house. They visited the schoolhouse where L. W. Platt had a boarding school of Pawnee children.66 They let the Sioux into the yard, previously, however, putting the children into the cellar. One of the Sioux went half of the way up the chamber stairs and seeing no one came down, and after they had explored as much as they wanted, they went away; when Mrs. Platt ascertained that one of the Indians was asleep on a bed upstairs, but the Sioux did not discover her.

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A few days after, the same Sioux returned with a reinforcement. We saw them coming and put our women and children with the school children upstairs in the schoolhouse. We armed ourselves with the determination that we would not let them inside of the yard. They had an American flag, and one of them handed it over to us and wanted to get inside. He alone got over the fence, and when he was palavering and saying “very good” — meaning the flag — some of them managed to take two horses from the stable, which was outside the fence, when a man upstairs, behind the women, cried out, “Our horses are gone.” The Indian inside the fort, with the flag, was about as badly frightened as Mr. Cline, and in his hurry to leave, leaped the fence, and forgot the flag, which we thought first of retaining, and him with it; but we finally thought, for our own safety, we had better let them go.67 If we had all been like Cline they would have overpowered us, for they were three to one. They went to the Pawnee village and set fire to several of the lodges. At last we decided to cache our things that we could not take with us and leave. We did so and left for Bellevue. Mr. Platt had sixteen Indian children which he took there for protection. About that time the Mormons had arrived from Nauvoo. A Col. Allen had drafted a regiment of Mormon soldiers for the Mexican war of 1846. A Mormon bishop by the name of Miller had started with about forty families for Salt Lake, as the first company across the plains. We accompanied them back to get the remainder of our things, and when we arrived at our houses we had been gone just one month. During that time no Indians had been there to molest. The last day of our trip we went eight miles ahead of Miller’s camp. Soon after we arrived, however, two companies of

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Poncas met, one direct from their village, the other a war party that had been south — about thirty in number. There were only five of us and three from Miller’s camp. The Indians did not behave very well. Most of our men lay down to sleep, but two of us concluded the safest policy was the best policy, so stood guard. They told me to sleep, they would not harm anything. I told them all right, they could sleep, I was going to stand guard. They laid down and were soon asleep. In the night we started two messengers back to Miller’s camp for reinforcements for we did not know what they might do. The men arrived about daylight and came so still they were upon them before they knew it, being asleep. The Indians were so surprised and agitated in their hurry, were plagued to get their traps. But they soon left and went over to Mr. Ranney’s (the house) that he had occupied. They went upstairs, cut open some sacks containing wheat that we had stored there, and let the wheat run down through a loose floor, then took the sacks with them. We did not know it until they had got so far away we could not overtake them. That day Bishop Miller arrived with his company. We sold them the wheat, loaded up, and the next day started for Bellevue. Brigham Young sent word to Miller not to go to Salt Lake. They returned north to Ponca County and wintered there.68 The spring following Brigham Young with a company of men left for Salt Lake. That was in 1847 — the first emigration to Salt Lake. The Indian agent turned over the boarding school of Indian children to me, and Mr. Platt went to Civil Bend, Fremont Co., Iowa, to live. Mr. Dunbar went to Oregon, Mo., and Mr. Ranney back east and afterwards to the Cherokees, and stayed there until the war broke out in the south. Mr. Dunbar bought a farm near the mouth of the Nodaway

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River, Mo., taught school some, preached some, and attended his farm. Afterwards sold his farm and moved over to Kansas, where he and his wife died. I am unable to say whether Mr. Ranney and his wife are alive, or I am left alone to tell the story.69 I kept the boarding school two years; after that we lived at Bellevue until 1851, when we moved to St. Mary, Mills Co., Iowa, on a farm, and lived there two years. I think I bought where I now live fourteen years ago. The government urged me for about eight years to become United States interpreter. I was United States interpreter for Gen. Denver’s treaty with the Pawnees, which, I believe, was in August 1856.70 After President Buchanan’s inauguration in the autumn, I went to Washington with Major W. W. Dennison and a delegation of sixteen Pawnees to have the treaty ratified. We stayed then all winter waiting for Congress to quarrel over the admission of Kansas as a state. Almost every member of Congress had to make a speech on the Kansas question and kept us there till April.71 One of the braves died there and was buried in the congressional burying ground under the direction of Hon. Chas. Mix, acting commissioner of Indian affairs, with great pomp and honor to the poor Indian. After the ratification of the treaty we made our way back by way of New York City, where the Indians, by order of the commissioner, received a quantity of presents. We arrived home safely the last of April 1857 [1858]. They then lived on the south side of the Platte River, opposite and below where Fremont now is in Nebraska. They received one payment there and then moved where they now live, on their reservation at Beaver Creek, twenty-two miles above Columbus, Nebraska.

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Although Indian children make good progress in reading and especially in writing, it does them but little good, as they leave the school and forget all they have learned, particularly the boys, for it is difficult to keep them in school after they are some sixteen years old. At that age they commence going to war. They establish their character as braves by stealing horses and killing their enemies. The Pawnees generally prefer the horse stealing, as they are fond of plenty of horses for packing and killing buffalo, but they don’t often keep them long, for their enemies do as they do — steal them — and they lose many by exposure to cold. They also use them roughly in packing and on the chase. I believe in the spring of 1851 we moved to St. Marys, Iowa, and lived two and a half years on a farm called the Fielder farm, three-fourths of a mile south of where we now live and have lived for twenty years. We lived here in Iowa when I was United States interpreter; consequently I was absent from home considerable of the time among the Indians, where I had a better opportunity to learn their manners and customs than when I lived in their country. When they moved to their present location — in 1859 I believe — they had a new agent, Hon. J. L. Gillis, from Pennsylvania. I acted as United States interpreter until his time expired, about the time of the Civil War. A Major DuPuy succeeded Judge Gillis.72 While there the Pawnees had several attacks from the Sioux. Gen. Sully, who was in command of Fort Kearny, was stationed at the Pawnees, with a company of infantry, and Lieut. Berry with some twenty dragoons, and when there was an alarm of Sioux the Pawnees would run them three or four miles before the dragoons got saddled, but still it gave them courage having the soldiers there.73 Judge Gillis was upwards of

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seventy years old, but would buckle on his pistols, mount his horse, and go with the Pawnees in pursuit of their enemies. This he promised for their protection, as he feared not the face of man, especially an Indian. The Sioux came several times while the Pawnees were on their hunts, and two or three times burned some of their lodges and rode through their corn fields to destroy their corn, but we were not strong enough to prevent it. The Indians are obliged to live compact in villages for mutual protection and to plant their corn in large fields near by, when if they could scatter out and have their family farms they would do much better; but they have these difficulties to encounter, which greatly retard their progress and prosperity. So it is, and I don’t see any prospect for the better. Some of the tribes have one difficulty and some another, and all are diminishing fast every year, and will continue to diminish until they are finally extinct, and that will be soon, unless some plan can be devised by our government to urge or force them to form a colony and establish a government similar to our own; and then they would need a different rule from ours, for they are not sufficiently enlightened to send delegates to our Congress, unless, from the Cherokees or Choctaws. I have had forty years’ experience, more or less, and am ready to admit that their future prospect looks dark. Our government is disposed to be humane with them, but there is a great deal of money and time spent that is useless. I know this, for I have had experience enough to know that many of our Indian agents who go among them are inexperienced — know little or nothing of Indian character, and care less. If they are smart enough to write a good report, and, having a salary of some fifteen hundred dollars, can steal as much more from the government and Indians, and

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cover their tracks and let other employees do the same, they come through the mill all right. Then people who travel through the Indian country often wrong the Indians and then complain of their depredations. There is surely a cause for bad Indians; they are made so by bad white men. This I know in a great measure to be true. I do not by any means uphold the Indians in wrong doing; at the same time I am bold to say they are treated wrong and often without redress. Many white men are ready to trample them under foot without considering the true cause of the Indians’ complaints. Several years since soon after the first emigration to Denver and California — there was a company of whites traveling up the Platte bottoms between the Elkhorn River and Fremont, Nebraska. They camped on a little creek that empties into the Elkhorn. One of the company thought that he would show his bravery and shot a poor Pawnee squaw. The Indians being camped near caught the fellow and skinned him. I do not know whether dead or alive, and it matters not in my estimation. The creek has since been called Rawhide Creek.74 Such are the provocations sometimes by inconsiderate white men who deserve the name of demons instead of men. I go for equity and right — punish the Indians when they deserve it, but give no cause of offense. If they will not explore and improve their country before we take it from them and drive off their game and destroy their means of subsistence, let us deal fairly with them and remunerate them for that which belongs to them. The American Fur Company had a trading post some eighteen miles above Bellevue and nine above the present city of Omaha. Major Joshua Pilcher was in command of the post. I found the major one of the most prompt, candid, and

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reliable gentlemen I have met with in the Indian country. He was well informed on almost any subject, especially respecting Indians, for he had great experience and was free to give any information that was interesting and reliable. During the Black Hawk war the Sacs and Foxes killed their agent, and Major Pilcher was appointed special agent for that tribe. He was afterwards appointed superintendent of Indian affairs, whose headquarters at that time were at St. Louis, and I believe he died there while in that capacity. He once had control of most of the Indian trade from St. Louis to the Pacific Ocean. He one winter performed a journey in the Rocky Mountains several hundred miles, some of the way on snow shoes, his provisions and bedding being hauled by dogs. He traveled by land almost as far as any one could toward the Arctic region and related some startling adventures which I regret I did not make note of.75 Mr. Cabana, one of the members of the company, succeeded [preceded] Major Pilcher at the fort. He was a very kind and polite gentleman and quite an epicure. There was plenty of wild game in those days and he employed two hunters. His storeroom in autumn was filled with venison, geese, swans, ducks, and other small game. He kept a good Negro cook and would visit the cook room several times a day to see that all was going right. Whatever was served on the table was always in the best style, and he was very attentive to his guests at table and elsewhere. He made one sad mistake. Soon after Peter A. Sarpy made his advent into this country he was clerk for Mr. Cabana, and there was a Mr. LaClair who traded with the Poncas. After LaClair had passed Cabana’s fort Mr. Cabana hired several Omaha Indian volunteers, headed by P. A. Sarpy, who pursued LaClair and took from him his outfit of goods,

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which cost Mr. Cabana some thousands of dollars to make restitution.76 This I believe was Col. P. A. Sarpy’s first act of bravery, and caused his promotion from lieutenancy to captain, but at Mr. Cabana’s sorrowful expense. By the by, Col. Sarpy earned the title of “colonel” by some distinction, not as a military man, and I should not do him justice without giving him a prominent place among the distinguished Indian traders and frontier men of early days. He possessed some excellent qualities and traits of character; although sometimes rough and uncouth, was a high-toned gentleman, who exerted a great influence among the whites as well as the Indians. He was particularly generous to white men of distinction and wealth, also to the Indians when it paid well, but exacted every penny of his hired men and others who earned their living by labor. Still he was generous to the needy. He was active and persevering in his transactions of various kinds of business; employed considerable capital in Indian and other trade; but was often wronged by his clerks, which vexed him as he was very excitable. For a business man with a large capital he was rather a poor financier. Toward the latter part of his life he became addicted to intemperance — a habit of seventenths of the Indian traders. During my acquaintance with him of thirty years he was always kind to me and would accommodate me in every way he could. He was all that could be wished for a man of the world, except the habit of intemperance. He was extremely fond of good, fast horses and always kept a plenty. He was also fond of good dogs and always had a number. He had a large black greyhound that was his particular favorite, and well he should be, for Cuff — that was his name — was very fond of his master and watchful

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of his welfare. He kept him twelve or fourteen years, till at length some Omaha Indians had committed a theft which exasperated the Colonel, and he became so enraged that he set Cuff on the thieves, who pursued them so closely they considered themselves in danger and one of them wheeled round and shot the dog dead. This so greatly enraged the Colonel that he swore vengeance on the whole Omaha tribe. He called a council of the chiefs, to whom he made a touching speech, appealing to them by his former fidelity and friendship, referring to the desperate conduct of their young men in killing his favorite dog, and, it is said, proposed to the chiefs that the young men be banished from the tribe and go to live with the Kickapoos for a certain time as a punishment, to which they assented. For the foregoing I cannot vouch, but I do know that he had the dog laid out in rich style, had a grave dug, and — according to Indian custom in burying their dead — had a wolf’s tail tied upon a pole at the grave, and hired an Omaha Indian to go at stated times for several days and cry at the grave as the Indians do for their dead. During the last few years of his life he suffered much; had several severe attacks, and at last died in Plattsmonth, Nebraska. His relatives lived in St. Louis and his remains were taken there for final interment. It was said that he left a property of $75,000, most of which was in St. Louis. He had one brother, John B. Sarpy, who died before him and who was a member of the American Fur Company. When I came to this country in 1834, John B. Sarpy had charge of most of the company’s business. The firm consisted of Pierre Chouteau & Co., namely Mr. Chouteau, John B. Sarpy, Bernard Pratte, Capt. Sears, Major Sanford, and young Chouteau. Gov. Clark — of Lewis and Clarke notoriety — was then superintendent of Indian af-

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fairs with headquarters at St Louis. He was superseded by Major Pilcher as mentioned above, and afterwards by Col. Mitchell. The superintendent’s office was removed to St. Joseph and kept by a Dr. Robinson, and then to Omaha, Nebraska, where Col. Taylor was superintendent, and so on to Superintendent Jenny. The Indian trader I mentioned in connection with Mr. Cabana ended his existence by shooting himself. He had been intemperate and took a solemn oath that he would not drink any liquor for a certain time, lived that time almost out, and was met by some friends who persuaded him to take a drink with them. He did so and afterwards on sober reflection took a pistol and deliberately shot himself. Lucien Fontenelle, the father of five interesting children by an Omaha woman, was a man of talents and well liked by those who knew him. He had also great influence with the Indians, especially the Omahas. He was a gentleman in his manners and affectionate to his family. He was a successful trader and in company with Major Drips had a trading post at Fort Laramie and in the spring of 1835 built a log house to store their goods, which they took on pack animals to their fort up the Platte.77 The house in which he died yet stands on the river bank near Bellevue, close by where the cars of the Southwestern railroad run daily. Notwithstanding his excellent qualities and refinement, he followed in the wake of most Indian traders and finally died from the effects of intemperance. There are many now living who know the history of his family. He kept his children in school at St. Louis until they had a fair English education. Albert, the second son, partially learned the blacksmith trade with John Snuffin, now living at Glenwood, and was a good smith. Henry, the youngest, learned the wagon maker’s trade and was handy with tools.

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He still lives at the Omaha Reserve and has a family, his wife being a half blood Pawnee.78 Susan, a fine girl, is now Mrs. Neils. Logan, the oldest, was a remarkable boy and lived to be an Omaha chief of great influence in his tribe, and also greatly respected by the whites who knew him. He was killed by the Sioux in a bloody fight in which he fought bravely. Albert was injured by being thrown from a mule which was the probable cause of his death. Tecumseh was killed in a drinking frolic by his brother-in-law, Louis Neil, who was afterwards almost literally cut to pieces by Tecumseh’s friends. Our authorities confined Neil in the Omaha jail for sometime until he was pardoned by Tecumseh’s friends. The only fault of the boys was they would sometimes get to drinking and disgrace themselves in that way. A Mr. Brurie was traveling above in the Sioux country some twenty years since, with three other gentlemen, one cold winter day, and rode on ahead to select a camping place. He rode farther than he needed to for that purpose and the party pursued on and overtook him and found him sitting on his horse frozen to death. There is so little timber and distances between camping places so far in the Indian country, a person needs both caution and experience and sometimes perseverance to keep from freezing. I have often been exposed in this way, and to prairie fires in the fall season. There are two missionaries now living among the Indians who came to this country soon after I did, Mr. Ewing among the Iowas and Mr. Hamilton among the Omahas. They are still laboring for the good of the Indians, I believe with success.79 There were some gentlemen among the Indians as traders in this vicinity that I have not mentioned. There was

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Laforce Pappan, who was in the employ of the fur company. He was on his way to St. Louis in company with Col. Sarpy in 1848 and took the cholera at Nishnabottany and died very suddenly. He had a Pawnee woman and four interesting boys. She is living among the Omahas, has an Omaha husband. Two of the boys are also living. There was Stephen Decatur, a well informed gentleman, in the employ of Col. Sarpy. He went to the gold mines and I do not know whether he is living. His family are at Decatur City near the Omaha reserve.80 Francois Guittar, who was also in the employ of the American Fur Company, is now living in Council Bluffs [Iowa]. He came to this country about the time I did — in 1833 or 1834. There was also Baptiste Roy, who had a trading house near the mouth of the Papillion in Sarpy County. The noted steamboat captain, Joseph La Barge, was his clerk. This reminds me of a noted rascal half breed Arickaree by name of Antoine Garrow who was stopping at Roy’s trading house. He was at Fontenelle’s trading house, and Fontenelle, knowing him to have headed the Arickarees in killing several white men, and being somewhat intoxicated, shot at Garrow in the yard of his fort. The ball having passed through Garrow’s hat, he (Garrow) said, “What is that for?” Fontenelle replied, “I meant to kill you.” Garrow soon left for Roy’s fort. Fontenelle got up a party of five or six men and in the evening went down near Roy’s fort; sent two men and called Garrow out doors; took him off some eighty rods and shot him. He was buried beside a large cottonwood tree on the bank of the Missouri River below Bellevue, near where Mr. Tzschuck now lives.81 Roy traded with the Otoes but also kept a “doggery.” Sometimes there would be some twenty Otoes, Roy and

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his squaw, all drunk, pitching and rolling on the bed and floor at the same time, howling like so many demons from the bottomless pit. That is the way some men used to procure the Indian trade. Major [Alexander] Culbertson was general agent for the American Fur Company. The opposition company was Ellis Harvey, Joe Recotte, and others. The company in those days sent every year a steamboat loaded with goods to Cabana’s fort, about ten miles above Omaha City, and return to reload at St. Louis and meet the June rise of the Missouri River; then ascend to the mouth of the Yellowstone River and forts above that. Before steamboats ascended the Missouri River some forty years ago, they used to cordelle keel boats from St. Louis up the river to the Rocky Mountains. Some days they would make ten, fifteen, or twenty miles. They would wade through mud, water, nettles, and brush with a million mosquitoes at their backs, and pull the cordelle all day, and eat boiled corn with a little grease for supper. If they had coffee they paid extra for it, and if they did not obey the barger or boss they were threatened to be left on the prairies at the mercy of the Indians.

Henry Fontenelle was born in 1832. He was the son of Lucien Fontenelle, a fur trader who made his home at Bellevue, in present-day Nebraska. Henry’s mother, Bright Sun, was an Omaha woman. When Henry’s father died in 1840, Bright Sun returned to the Omaha village with her children. About 1842 Henry was enrolled in the school at the Shawnee Indian mission near Kansas City. Two years later he ran away and returned to Bellevue. In 1854 Henry married Emily Papin, a Pawnee mixed-blood.82

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After Fontenelle submitted his article he wrote to Robert Furnas, editor of Transactions and Reports, with an addendum. The letter is included at the end of Fontenelle’s account.

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History of the Omaha Indians henry fontenelle The tradition of the Omahas handed down to this date is that they were living at the mouth of the Missouri River in a destitute condition (no date is given), when by accident some one of them found an ear of corn in a mole hill, the kernels of which were divided among the different bands or families.83 From that time hence corn has been cultivated by them. The Quapaws, now of the Indian Territory, go farther back. Tradition tells them that they and the Omahas were one tribe; that they emigrated down the Ohio River from its sources down to the mouth of it, where a controversy took place as to the direction they should take, when finally a part of them went down the Mississippi and called themselves “Ogoh pæ,” meaning descending or going down. They settled on the west side of the Mississippi on that part of the territory now the state of Arkansas, and were there until they ceded the country to the United States and moved westward. The other part of the tribe moved up the river and called themselves “Omaha,” derived from the word “Kemoha,” meaning against the current, against the wind. The Omahas, as stated, tradition takes them back only to the mouth of the Missouri River. In their migrations up the river nothing of importance is mentioned until they reached a point on the Big Sioux River, where they located their village, and lived many years in confederation with the Iowas, Otoes, and Winnebagos. In dissensions among

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the Omahas a part of them separated and went southward and became independent tribes of the Kaws and Osages. After many years’ residence on the Sioux River, at or near the Red Pipe Stone Quarry, they went on up the Missouri with the other tribes mentioned, until they reached a point opposite the mouth of White Earth River where they crossed the Missouri to the west side and explored the country west of that point.84 The country being barren and soil poor they could not successfully raise corn. They lived there but a short time and moved down the west side of the Missouri River (still with the other tribes that started with them from the Sioux River), until they arrived at a place opposite the mouth of James River of [South] Dakota and lived there many years. The Iowas located at the mouth of Iowa Creek, near the present site of Ponca, Nebraska. The Otoes went on south until they came to the mouth of the Elkhorn River where they settled on the east side of the river. No account is given of the Winnebagos after they left the Sioux River. How long the Omahas remained at their village opposite the James River we know not. When tradition tells us they moved on down the river to a place where the Omaha Creek disembogues out [of] the bluffs at the present site of Homer, Nebraska, and established a village there many years before a white man was known to them. It was at that place the Omahas first saw the white people.85 Some of the Indians were on the bank of the Missouri and espied some strange beings on the opposite side building a boat, preparing to cross the river. The white people came over loaded with blankets, cloths, trinkets, and guns. It was then, and at that time, they first knew the use of firearms. A year or two afterwards five different traders established trading posts at the “cross timbers” (a belt of cottonwood timber stretching across

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the Missouri bottom about half way between Decatur and Tekama, Nebraska), where the Omahas and traders made their rendezvous semi-annually to trade. Up to this no mention is made of any great chief until Blackbird comes into prominence with Ta-ha-zhouka, the father of “Big Elk the First.” Blackbird was the first great chief known to white people, and his memory is held sacred by the Omahas for his rare intelligence and good traits. He held supreme command over his people. His words were law and obeyed as such. At the same time he is remembered as a good and gentle disposition and loved by his subjects. Blackbird and Ta-ha-zhouka were the first Omaha chiefs that made a treaty of friendship and peace with the governor of the Territory of Louisiana at St. Louis, where a recognition of his being chief of the Omahas was given him by the governor on paper, the date of which we forget. It is still kept by his descendants as a sacred relic. And at this time a portrait of Blackbird was painted, which at the present time hangs in the “Palace of the Louvre,” at Paris, France.86 Not many years after that time he returned from a visit to the Pawnees at their village on the south side of the Platte river opposite the present site of Schuyler, Nebraska. The Pawnees at the time were visited by that terrible scourge, the smallpox. He took the disease as soon as he arrived home and died in a few days. His last request was that he should be buried on a high bluff overlooking the Missouri, so that he could see the white people in their travels up and down the river, as he was very fond of them. On account of their enemies, the Sioux, who made incessant wars upon them and outnumbered them, they moved out to the Elkhorn River (named after Ta-ba-zhouka, meaning “elk’s horn”), where they lived until the year 1832 or

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’33 when the smallpox broke out among them.87 In their consternation they scattered in every direction over the prairies. After a great many of them died the disease left them. They collected again, but abandoned that village and went back again to their former home on the Omaha Creek and lived there until A.D. 1845. Again, on account of their inveterate foes, the Sioux, making continual wars upon them, they moved down the river to a place four miles west of Bellevue.88 They lived there one year when their next great chief, Big Elk the First, died and was given a Christian burial by the missionary at Bellevue, the Rev. Mr. McKinney, who preached the funeral sermon over the remains, and interpreted by Logan Fontenelle, U.S. interpreter. He was buried on the spot where now stands the Presbyterian College. In excavating the grounds preparatory to building the institution, no doubt the spot held sacred by the Omahas was desecrated by digging away his bones. What was done with them we know not.89 The memory of Big Elk is dear to the Omahas for his good traits and is conspicuous for his executive abilities. He commanded respect among all the white people that knew him. His son and successor, “Big Elk the Second,” was a man of natural abilities, but took to dissipating, and died from the effects of prolonged debauch at the foot of Blackbird Hill, and was buried by the grave of Blackbird in 1852. Contemporary with the last Big Elk was a conspicuous character by the name of White Buffalo, sometimes erroneously called “White Cow,” a natural and gifted orator. For several years before he died the writer of this was U.S. interpreter, and it was with much regret I could not well enough use the English language to interpret and convey the utterances of strong emotion in his eloquent speeches made before U.S. authorities and upon particular occasions

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before assemblies. He was noted for his quaint, humorous pleasantries. It may not be amiss in this narrative to cite an incident when White Buffalo with other chiefs was in Washington in A.D. 1851, in council with the commissioner of Indian affairs. The year previous to that time the Indians of the plains had committed depredations upon emigrants traveling across the plains to California. The Omahas of course had to take the blame as well as other Indians west of the Missouri. The commissioner had occasion to speak of the depredations and said to the Omahas that if they did not quit molesting the emigrants he would send out soldiers and big guns among them and kill them all off with one puff of his big guns. White Buffalo got up and straightened himself before the commissioner and said: “My Great Father, I fear not death. I have fought my enemies in many battles. I have courted death in the din of hot strife of battle with deadly foes, but death has thus far disdained me. Send out your soldiers, send out your big guns, and to prove to you, should I be your prisoner, I will crawl into your big gun and tell you to fire away!” The speech created some sensation among the white bystanders, but his colleagues took it as a good joke, as White Buffalo never merited the name of a “brave warrior” in any meritorious act in battle. During the winter of 1855 and 1856 agent Geo. Hepner issued provisions to the Omahas at Omaha City, at that time but an embryo city.90 After the provisions were all given out, the agent held a council with the chiefs. During the council, a Mr. Wm. Brown brought an account against the Omahas for hogs killed and taken by them. Sufficient evidence was given to prove that no Omahas were seen in the vicinity of Omaha City or Council Bluffs for four months previous to the time Brown lost his hogs. White

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Buffalo stepped up to Mr. Brown and said: “My friend, why do you charge us with a theft we did not commit? Your hogs were frozen to death.” And in mock solemnity he puts his hand on Mr. Brown and pointing upwards, tells him to send his account to the Lord Almighty “who caused the snow and cold weather that froze your hogs.” The jeers of the bystanders rather nonplussed Brown. He walked away and never mentioned hogs again to the agent or Omahas. White Buffalo was a great counselor to his people, and his counsels had effect by the argumentative and convincing manner of speech he gave it. While sick, a few days before he died, he was visited by their agent in company with the U.S. interpreter, when White Buffalo made a few sensible and pertinent remarks; he was buried on a high bluff overlooking the river just above Decatur, Neb. In September 1853, the U.S. commissioner of Indian affairs visited the Omahas and in council made overtures for the purchase of their country.91 The Omahas signified a willingness to acquiesce in the offers of the commissioner. In a council of deliberation on that occasion Logan Fontenelle by acclamation was created principal chief. All the chiefs of the Omahas were invited to Washington by the commissioner to make a treaty for their country, which was consummated and signed on the 16th day of March, A.D. 1854, the territory ceded by the Omahas embracing about one-fourth of the State of Nebraska, in the northeastern part. The Omahas reserv[ed] for their home three hundred thousand acres where they now live and are making rapid strides toward civilization.92 In June 1855, Logan went with the tribe as usual on their summer buffalo hunt, and as usual their enemies, the Sioux, laid in wait for the Omahas in vicinities of large herds of buffalo. The first surround they made on the buffalo the

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Sioux made a descent upon them in overwhelming numbers and turned the chase into battle. Four Omahas were killed and several wounded.93 In every attempt at getting buffalos the Sioux charged upon them. The Omahas concluded it was useless to try to get any buffalo and retreated toward home. They traveled three days and thinking they were out of danger, Logan, one morning, in company with Louis Saunsoci and another Indian, started on ahead of the moving village and were about three miles away when they espied a herd of elk in the distance. Logan proposed chase, they started; that was the last seen of him alive. The same moment the village was surrounded by the Sioux. About ten o’clock in the morning a battle ensued and lasted until three o’clock, when they found out Logan was killed. His body was found and brought into Bellevue and buried by the side of his father. He had the advantage of a limited education and saw the advantage of it. He made it his study to promote the welfare of his people and to bring them out of their wretchedness, poverty, and ignorance. His first step to that end was to organize a patrol of picked men and punish all that came home intoxicated with bad whisky. His effort to stop whisky drinking was successful. It was his intention as soon as the Omahas were settled in their new home to ask the government to establish ample schools among them, to educate the children of the tribe by force if they would not send the children by reasonable persuasion. His calculations for the benefit of the tribe were many, but like many other human calculations his life suddenly ended in the prime, and just as he was ready to benefit his people and sacrifice a life’s labor for helpless humanity. After Logan was killed the Omahas went to Bellevue instead of coming back to the reservation whence they started and wintered along the Missouri River

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between Calhoun and the reservation, some of them at Bellevue. In the spring of 1856 they again went back to their reservation, where they have been since. The first years of their residence here they went on their usual summer and winter hunts and depended on the chase for subsistence. The game grew scarcer as the country settled up by the white people. When in the fall of 1870 they were obliged to go a long distance down on the Smoky Hill River in Kansas, and found but few buffalo, they started homeward disheartened and in a destitute condition, and would have suffered was it not for the kindness of the commander of Fort Hayes, who liberally supplied them with bacon and flour. They arrived home satisfied that it was no longer any use to try and subsist upon the chase, as the buffalo and elk had disappeared from their usual haunts. They concluded to till the soil and emulate their neighbors, the white people, was their only alternative, from which time they have progressed rapidly, and have labored diligently in making themselves comfortable homes and take an interest in educating children. They have two flourishing schools that accommodate on an average eighty to a hundred children every year. They also have now about forty of their children at Carlisle, Pa., and Hampton, Va., schools supported by the United States government. Many of them have comfortable frame houses built by proceeds of their own earnings. They market surplus wheat and corn every fall. On the Fourth of July, 1884, Ebohumbe, son of Chief Noise, died, after prolonged sickness, an exemplary and useful man for his emulative example in trying to live and labor like the white people and accumulating property. He owned at the time he died sixty head of cattle and forty or

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fifty head of hogs, three span of large horses, and took to market every fall large surplus of wheat, corn, and hogs. White Horse, a descendant of the great chief Blackbird, who is living, is another among the Omahas who sets good example, by trying to live like the white people in farming and dwelling in a comfortable house, as well as by precepts given to his people at every opportunity; in turning them from their old habits to civilized ways of living but these are only examples of many that try to better their condition; and should the Omahas progress as they have in the last ten years, another decade will see them competent citizens. Some months after the foregoing had been handed me [Transactions and Reports editor Robert Furnas], Mr. Fontenelle wrote me as follows: By invitation I was at the dedication of the Bellevue College, and the burial of the bones of the Omahas that were taken up in preparing the grounds for the building. I was entirely ignorant of what was done with the bones at the time I wrote the history of the Omahas for you, and I regret very much of having written the sentence of censure, in saying a desecration was committed in digging away the bones of “Big Elk.” An apology was due Mr. Clark, the founder of the college, which I did offer. I now wish that that sentence in the history be erased and substitute the following: “Much credit and praise is due Hon. H. T. Clark for the kind, Christian act in carefully taking up the bones of Big Elk and others that were buried there generations ago, and put them in boxes and stored them until the appropriate and fitting time of the dedication of the College to its

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noble use, when they were reburied immediately in front of the building — upon which occasion eloquent and fitting expressions were given by the venerable missionary, the Rev. William Hamilton, and others.”

Mrs. Anderson’s identity remains a mystery. She was related to Agent John Dougherty. It seems she was at Bellevue in April 1837, but her veracity must be viewed with caution. Mrs. Anderson was probably a very young girl when she was at “Fort” Bellevue and was recalling fragments of stories she heard from her elders.

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At Bellevue in the Thirties mrs. e. anderson The next most noted men that lived at Bellevue were the Pawnee missionaries.94 They were Old School Presbyterians — Mr. Dunbar and wife and Mr. Allis and wife. They never went farther west that I know of — not during our stay at Bellevue, at least.95 All I can say about them is they were Christian gentlemen and ladies. Mr. Curtis was sent by the Baptist Board of Missions to preach to the Omaha Indians. He moved from Bellevue to the village, but the Indians became insulting and made hostile demonstrations. Mr. Curtis wrote back east to know what he should do. They wrote to him to trust to the Lord and stay where he was. He wrote back to them that the Lord did not work miracles in these days and he was a going to leave. He came back to Bellevue and baptized the first person that was ever baptized in the Nebraska [Platte] River. It took place near the Otoe village. The candidate for baptism was a black

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woman that belonged to Mr. Merrill. It was a beautiful Sabbath day and was a romantic sight to see a nation of wild Indians gathered together to witness the solemn rite of Christian baptism. Mr. Merrill gave a long talk to the Indians, and Uncle Robert Dougherty was interpreter.96 Doctor Satterlee was sent by the Presbyterian Board to act as doctor and surgeon. At the Pawnee mission his wife died, and he went on alone. He never reached there. His fate is unknown. They found on the bank of Nebraska River some torn paper and human hair that they thought was his; but they did not know, as it was so defaced they could not tell. A sad ending of two human lives in those young days during our stay at Bellevue.97 I saw Kit Carson. He stayed but a short time at the fort. He was on his way from Saint Louis to Santa Fe. He was a well formed man but rather undersized and was dressed in buckskin. There was a great deal of romance and fiction interwoven in the life of Kit Carson that he never thought of. I never saw him but once.98 There was a Mr. Fontenelle that had a trading post a half mile south of Bellevue. His two little boys, Logan and Tecumseh, were attending school in Bellevue. Their mother was a Sioux woman, and their father was a Frenchman. He was well educated and appeared to be much of a gentleman; but in an evil hour he listened to bad advice. They told him if he would take an Indian wife he would have better success trading with the Indians, and when he wanted to leave there he could leave her with her people. He lived with her until their first child was born. He said he could not desert his child. He stayed amongst the Sioux Indians until they had two children. He left them and came to Bellevue.99 There was a sore trial in wait for him at Bellevue. One morning, shortly after school was called, the

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two Fontenelle brothers were conning over their lessons, when the mother and a Negro man dashed to the door and caught the little boys in their arms and ran out at the southwest corner of the fort across the bluffs to the trading post. And the news in the fort was that Fontenelle’s wife was killed by an Iowa Indian who was in the fort. There were a great many Iowa Indians there at that time; and they were for getting away from there in a hurry. In a short time they found it was right to the reverse. The woman had killed the man. The men ran out at the southeast corner of the fort; ran down the river road to the trading post; but she got there first. She and the children were locked up in the upper story. That night Mr. Fontenelle put her and her two children aboard of a boat and sent them up the river to her people. She came back the next summer.100 While up there a little girl was added to the family. Her name was Mary. The oldest boy had the features of his father and genteel deportment, but the complexion and color of his hair was like his mother. The younger brother had the complexion of his father but the features of his mother. The little girl was an Indian in full — their mother said the reason she killed the Indian was that he joined a war party of Iowa and killed all of her father’s family after taking him in and keeping him all winter and showing him a great deal of kindness. He did his mischief on his return home. In the spring she found he was in the fort, and she enticed him into the southeast corner of the house with whisky, and he sat down in a drunken stupor, when she stepped up behind him and cleft his skull with an ax. The thought of his children being half Indian preyed so on Mr. Fontenelle’s mind that he died the death of a suicide, a sad ending of what might of been a noble life. But we

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should imitate his virtues and shun his vices and let his name rest in peace.101 Major Dougherty came up every spring and issued annuities to the Indians. He always brought a small body of dragoons with him, but they never remained longer than a few days. The Indians met him at Fort Bellevue with their head chief, Iatan, who was one of the noblest Indians I ever saw. He was a true friend to the whites, and it finally cost him his life. Major Dougherty distributed annuities on the public square of Bellevue. It was a dry time, and the wind blew pretty hard. I could gather up all the beads I wanted of all sizes and colors. The Indians picked a quarrel with Iatan by one of their number stealing his favorite wife. She was young and handsome and was greatly beloved by the old chief. It was death by the law of the nation for a woman to desert her husband, but a chief could spare her life if he chose to do so. She was gone some time but her condition was such she had to come back. Mr. Merrill went to the village to intercede for her life. Iatan promised to spare her life but would take the life of the child. Mr. Merrill went to the village when he heard of her confinement to beg Iatan to spare the life of the child. When he got there he did not have any trouble on that account. The child was born with a full set of teeth. Iatan said that it was born into the world for some wise purpose, and he would spare its life. Iatan told my mother, a month before he was killed, that his tribe would kill him. He said it was because he was a friend to the whites, and that he would sell his life as dear as possible. As soon as the woman got able to travel she ran away again with the same young chief. They stayed out over two months.

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One morning Iatan was eating his breakfast at the Baptist Mission, when his nephew came in and told him that the young chief had come in for a fight. He told him to go back and tell them that he would be there when he ate his breakfast. When he was through eating he saw that his firearms were all right. He bid Mr. Merrill and wife farewell. He said he had eaten his last meal and they would never see him again. With a sad heart they bade him goodbye. His rival marshaled his men on one side, and what of the tribe remained true to Iatan rallied around him and the fight began. There were several killed on both sides. Iatan and his rival were killed. Iatan had six balls fired into his body before he fell. Every one that struck him he would spring up in the air and give a yell of defiance. He lived three hours after he fell. The last shot he received was from the gun of his rival. Iatan gave him his death wound. In dying he tightened his finger on the trigger and shot Iatan as he fell. The death of Iatan was the death blow to the Otoe nation. He was brave and honest and had great respect for Major Dougherty. When he would meet the major at Bellevue he always wore a suit of military clothes and a hat with two heavy black plumes tipped with red and a large silver medal on his breast. The little lap of earth that contains his bones is near the old Otoe village a half mile north of the Nebraska River. His memory is perpetuated by naming a railroad station for him in Platte County, Missouri. Peace be to his ashes.102 The crier of the village was killed, and the nation showed ingratitude to a man that had worn himself almost out in their service by killing him and leaving him unburied. Iatan’s nephew came to my father after the fight was over for protection. Father told him he would gladly do so if it was in his power. He had no place to hide him. Mother

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told him if his enemy found him there they would kill all of us. He said he would fight until he was killed, but that would not save us. He concealed himself in the woods until dark when he stole back to the mission. They hid him in the cellar. I understood after we left there that he was killed. I witnessed the burial of one of the young chiefs. After the body was lowered into the grave they killed his favorite horse and left him by the grave. Father asked them why they did such a thing — it seemed so cruel. They said that was done in order that the chief’s spirit might ride the horse’s spirit in the happy hunting ground. After the death of Iatan there were no chiefs of respectability left. There was Little Rabbit and Young Crow, but they were bad Indians. When the tribe would go on a buffalo hunt in the fall they and a few of their braves would stay at the village for the purpose of thieving and live by plundering. The men did the hunting and the fighting, and the women did the work. I have seen an Indian woman walking under such a load that she was almost bent to the ground, her husband walking at his leisure behind her. When he is in a good humor he will be humming a love tune of the long ago when he wooed and won the dusky maid that walked before him. They go through a form of courtship, but they have to buy their wives. They all practiced polygamy. The number of wives depended on the number of ponies the man had. I suppose the wild Indians of the plains are the same in their habits that they were sixty years ago.

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chapter two

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Military Campaigns and Army Life

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The stories in this chapter date from the 1850s and 1860s. Some describe battles with Indians while others discuss peaceful encounters or merely life in the army.

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John Milton Thayer was born in Massachusetts in 1820. He attended Brown University and then taught school and was admitted to the bar. In 1842 he married Mary Torrey Allen. About this time he joined the Massachusetts militia and later served in the Civil War, attaining the rank of brevet major general. After the war Thayer represented Nebraska as a senator in Washington DC until 1871. Although Thayer was not reelected, President Grant appointed him governor of Wyoming Territory, a post he held from 1875 to 1879. Thayer’s political career ended in 1891 at the conclusion of his second term as governor of the State of Nebraska. He died on March 19, 1906.1 In this essay Thayer describes his meeting in 1855 with the Pawnees, who were accused of “depredations” along the Elkhorn River.

My Very First Visit to the Pawnee Village in 1855 john m. thayer The passage of what was known as the Kansas and Nebraska bill May 30, 1854, providing for the organization of those territories, attracted the attention of the people very generally of the North and South, and many were ready to remove to those sections of the country.2 I had long the intention of finding some point in the northwest for settlement, and in the spring of 1854 had taken a trip to Nebraska in view of spying out the land. I was so well pleased with the appearance of the country that I determined to locate in Omaha, which had then been laid out and planted in

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anticipation as the future capital city of Nebraska. In September of that year I arrived in the city of Council Bluffs, which was then the stopping place for all persons intending to locate in the central portion of Nebraska. I was accompanied by my wife.3 We found there at that time a number of persons who helped to lay the foundation of the territorial government. I recall the Hon. J. Sterling Morton and wife, Dr. George L. Miller and wife, A. J. Hanscom and wife, Samuel Rogers, Thomas B. Cuming and wife, Mrs. Murphy, and Frank Murphy, and others, whom I can not now recall. All the gentlemen whom I have named, with the exception of Thomas B. Cuming, are now living, and all located in Omaha opposite Council Bluffs. President Franklin Pierce by proclamation opened the territory for settlement and appointed a set of officers. He selected Francis Burt of South Carolina for governor, and named Thomas B. Cuming of Keokuk, Iowa, to be secretary of state, and Mark W. Izard for United States marshal. Governor Burt started with a view of making the journey to what was to be to him, his future land of promise, but he was in poor health at the time, and as he journeyed toward Nebraska his health grew worse and became very much impaired while on a steamer from St. Louis to Bellevue. The steamer could go no farther than St. Joe, from which place he proceeded in a hack to Nebraska City and from there in a wagon to Bellevue. He was taken into the old mission house at that point and continued to grow worse, and he finally died there in a few days, never having assumed the duties of office as governor. By the organic law his death devolved the duties of the office of governor upon the secretary of the territory appointed, Thomas B. Cuming above named. The latter assumed the

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duties of the office of acting-governor and soon put the machinery of organization on foot, laying off the territory into counties and providing for the election of members of the legislature. President Pierce did not immediately fill the office of governor by another appointment, but finally did appoint Mark W. Izard who was then U.S. marshal, who, being on the ground, immediately assumed the duties of the office. Governor Cuming had developed into an active, energetic, broadminded governor, filled with new ideas of progress, while Governor Izard was of the reverse order, and it was a mystery to many people why he had ever been selected for the governorship.4 It was a general conclusion that the delegation from Arkansas felt under obligation to provide a place for him. The legislature elected under the proclamation of Governor Cuming met during the winter of 1854–55. I was unexpectedly called back east and was gone some weeks. While I was away the legislature had made provision for laying off the territory into a brigade, and had elected me brigadier general to command the frontier and to struggle with the Indians.5 I did not give much thought to the subject at first, but thought I would undertake whatever duties might devolve from it. I found subsequently that it became a more serious subject than I had supposed. I had built a small house on the site of Omaha and on my return from the East occupied it. We had just about got settled in it when I noticed, one afternoon towards evening, Governor Izard coming over towards it, and I said to my wife, “I wonder what is up now?” He called upon me and I soon found what his call was for. He said to me that couriers had just arrived, informing him that the Pawnee Indians were making a raid on the settlers along the Elkhorn River, stealing their stock and driving it away, and consequently the people were greatly

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alarmed and appealed to him for protection, and that he felt it his duty to call upon me to go at once to the Pawnee village and hold a council with the chiefs, with a view of inducing them to keep their Indians in subjection and not to meddle with the whites. Here was a development which I was not looking for. I had no familiarity with the Indians and had hardly ever seen them. Here was a call upon me which I could not escape. I had made up my mind not to shirk any duty, and taking a cheerful view, I determined to be of use to the settlers if it was in my power. There was nothing left for me then but to make preparation to visit the Pawnee village. The village of the Pawnees was on the south and west side of the Platte River, on a very high point a few miles this side of where the town of Fremont had just commenced a settlement.6 The governor said to me that Mr. Allis, who had formerly been a missionary to the Pawnees and had been employed as interpreter for that tribe, was living in a little town on the east side of the Missouri River in Iowa, opposite Bellevue, and that he would send a messenger for him to come to Omaha at once and accompany me on the expedition, as it would be necessary to have his services as an interpreter, and I was very glad to have him associated with me. O. D. Richardson, who had settled in Omaha having formerly been lieutenant governor of Michigan, kindly volunteered to accompany me in this movement.7 I had decided also to take along John E. Allen, a brotherin-law. That made up the party of four. I had purchased a team for farming purposes and took that as the means of our conveyance. I, of course, could not tell how long we would be absent, but I determined to provide a goodly supply of good things, so that we might live well, no matter what hardships we might meet with. My wife was an

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excellent cook, trained in a good New England home, and she volunteered to prepare rations for us that would last us some days. She at once set to work and baked a half dozen loaves of bread, boiled a whole ham, baked six or seven mince pies, and fried nearly a half bushel of doughnuts, ground coffee for several days’ consumption, put in a full supply of condensed milk, pickles, and other good things all of which was a portion of supplies that we had laid in for the winter. She was engaged all one day and all one night in preparing these articles of food and the part of next day in order to get them ready for us. When the interpreter arrived we were prepared to start on this trip to the Pawnee village, putting in feed for the horses, and taking some blankets with us which we expected to sleep in, or in the wagon if there was room enough. The governor came over to see us off and say goodbye, expressing the hope that we would make the Indians behave themselves. He was a kindly old gentleman, a tall six-footer in size, and a good chewer of tobacco. It was reported of him that he was a retired Baptist minister, all the way from the wilds of Arkansas. He had many qualities which made me like him. He evidently was trying to do the best he could for the settlers. Being thus prepared we started on the expedition. We took the trail leading west from Omaha and in a few hours crossed the Elkhorn River on a flat-bottomed boat near where a family had located, and then made for the direction of the Pawnee village on the high bluff to which I have alluded, reaching a point on the Platte on this side of it. The village was entirely exposed to our view and the hundreds of Indians loafing around it. They soon discovered our team approaching their direction and were a good deal excited at the apparently strange appearance to them. We

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could discover a crowd on the bluffs as they were drawn by curiosity to come out and look at the strange team that was approaching. We halted in full view of the village, and the interpreter signaled to them to send a number of Indians across the river to lead us back, as we were coming to see the chiefs. Soon some twenty Indians crossed over to the place where we await[ed] their coming. The interpreter informed them that we wanted them to lead us back across the river. The Platte River was as it is now, a dangerous stream to cross without a guide who is familiar with it; so it was arranged that we should take my two horses and unharness them, and Gov. O. D. Richardson ride one and I the other, and the Indians furnish a pony for the interpreter, one of them giving up his pony and doubling upon the back of another. I left Allen in charge of the wagon and the supplies in it, having no suspicion of treachery on the part of the Indians. While they were with us and around the wagon they took good care to learn what was in the wagon. When we were ready to cross the river our escort of Indians took the lead and we followed in single file. When perhaps about half way across the Platte I suddenly realized that my horse was sinking in quicksand, and instantly slid off into the river, realizing the serious danger from the quicksand. I gave him a touch with my whip and with an unearthly yell, renewing the whip, caused him to make a tremendous effort to get his limbs out of the quicksand and plunge forward, and fortunately he struck hard sand and thus saved himself. I led him along a few rods and then got onto him again and thus we crossed the river without further incident. I was the only one who had the wetting in water up above my waist. On reaching the first bank we were led up into the heart of the village and into what appeared to be a great council

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tent constructed in the shape of an amphitheater by poles set upon the ground, then spliced at each end and forming a wide circle. The poles were bound with leather strap made of buffalo skins. This tent was filled with as many of the Pawnees as could get into it. We were led into the center of it and there the old chief and his associates were squatted on the ground. By my direction Mr. Allis introduced me to the chief, telling him who I was and for what purpose I was there, that I had come to make complaint to him that the members of the Pawnee tribe were committing depredations upon the settlers. The old chief received me very kindly with the usual grunt. He extended his hand and then handed me the pipe of peace, which I took. I knew I would be expected to puff it a little and did so, and then it was passed around among the subordinate chiefs. While remaining in my position there I cast my eyes into an immense iron kettle which was suspended by ropes made of skins from the central opening at the top, in which kettle there seemed to be a dark colored liquid in which there was something resembling beef stewing. It did not look inviting to me, for I had heard of the Indians cutting up dogs and stewing them, and the thought occurred to me that as a part of their hospitality they would invite me to take some of that stew, which was not a pleasing thought, but I had determined that I would draw the line there against that dish; but fortunately they did not offer it to me. The interpreter was then directed by me to state more in detail the object of our visit in language which I dictated to him. I said the knowledge had reached the Great Father that the members of his tribe, the Pawnees, had been committing depredation upon the white settlers, stealing and driving off their cattle, and causing great fear to prevail among

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them along the Elkhorn River. I had come to say to him and to the subordinate chiefs that these wrongs must not be continued. When he came to reply the chief said to the interpreter that these marauding acts had been committed by their young men and that they could not control them. I replied to him that they must control their young men and put an end to the wrongs which these young men were inflicting upon the peaceable settlers. I felt the necessity of replying to him in a strong language, stating that the government had purchased these lands and had paid for, or was paying for the same, that the government had opened them up for settlement, and that the settlers were there by right and must be protected in the possession of that property, and that the government would protect them, and adding that if it was not done the government would send troops out here to punish and suppress the Indians; saying to them that if I had to come here again on account of these outrages committed by their tribe I should come with a force of troops to punish the marauders. The chief then promised that they would do everything in their power to prevent any wrongs being inflicted on the settlers, saying they desired to live in peace with their white brethren. I repeated my message to him in order to make as strong an impression on them as possible. Of course I could not tell what effect it would have on them, but it was all I could then do. After giving me the strongest assurances that they would behave themselves properly and let the whites live in peace, and the other chiefs united with him in the assurances he gave by such a way of approval, the council was concluded. It lasted probably two hours.8 I informed the chief we should need parties to escort us back across the river to our wagon; the escorts he readily furnished,

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but not the same ones who had escorted us over to the village. At that time the weather was cold and chilly. That was about the 15th of April.9 I was beginning to think of the good things we had in our wagon and the splendid supper we were to have under the tree, with a huge fire in front of us. That anticipated supper was in my mind during the whole passage of the river. I had a special reason myself for allowing the fire and the supper, for I was the only one who had been in the river and still had my wet clothes on and no chance to improve my condition. Visions of cold ham, bread and butter, doughnuts, mince pie, and hot coffee with condensed milk and with all the good things enumerated above ready at our call. Well, on arriving at the wagon our astonishment was overwhelming when we were informed by Allen, the fellow who had stayed at the wagon, that about twenty of the Indians came there as soon as we had reached the council tent, and overpowered him, took by force everything in the wagon, and had taken them across the river again. It was a disappointment for which I never had language to express my indignation. The treachery of the Indians has been fully impressed on my mind ever since, although I have found some good Indians among then, but the sufferings, enduring cold and wet and hungry were too much for me to describe at this late day. There we were, just at night, with nothing left to us but our blankets which the Indians kindly left us. My first thought was, “What shall we do?” Recalling the fact that we had found one family at the ferry where we crossed the Elkhorn, in a log cabin, we determined to return there and seek what relief we could by way of supper and something to eat. We hitched the team again and drove to that point. Fortunately the ferryman had been out hunting prairie chickens that afternoon while we were in the council and

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had brought in some half dozen prairie chickens. His good wife set to work, dressed and cooked those chickens, and having some bread and butter we fared reasonably well and determined to stay there for the night, which we did. I had reason to believe afterwards that the party of Indians who crossed over and led us back to the village quietly reported to the chief what we had in our wagon over the river, and that they went back with the permission of the Indians and robbed us of all we had. Thus, while we were holding council and demanding assurances that they would control their men, their own Indians were across the river and were plundering our wagon of all our supplies — the kind of treachery for which there is no name to designate. I determined at that time if I had ever a chance to get at them and have some satisfaction I would do so. I should have mentioned among the things which they stole from my wagon was a present from a friend of mine who brought it to me as I was about leaving — a bottle of very old choice brandy, saying to me that I might some time need it to head off snakebites when roaming over those prairies of Nebraska. I had not opened the bottle since leaving Boston, but when making preparation for this expedition it occurred to me that it might be very useful to me, but the Indians had taken that. I hope my friend Wolfeubarger will forgive me for taking along the bottle under the circumstances, and enabling the Indians to have a set-to over the use of that firewater. Some three years afterwards the whole tribe entered upon one general marauding excursion up the Platte River, destroying everything within their reach. The reign of terror prevailed over the whole Elkhorn valley. They destroyed everything in their path, and then I raised the force of 194 men and pursued them. Coming up with them at daylight we captured the whole tribe. Then

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the chiefs came rushing out of their tepees, making every sign of surrender, exclaiming to me “Good Indian,” and begging for mercy. That tribe had given much trouble at different times, but after this capture of the whole tribe they were put on their reservation and the government took immediate charge of them, and after that they never gave the whites any trouble. Years ago the Pawnee tribe was a great, powerful nation among the Indian tribes. It was a warlike nation, fighting battles with different tribes, but it gradually got upon the downward grading and became greatly diminished in numbers till I believe it is but a remnant of the Pawnees now in the Indian Territory.

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In 1859 Thayer commanded a unit of Nebraska militia sent to punish the Pawnees for raids on white settlers along the Elkhorn River.

The Pawnee War of 1859 john m. thayer In the last days of July ’59, couriers came in from along the Elkhorn River over at where the crossing of the Elkhorn was, thirty or forty years ago, on the then military road leading back to the mountains, and also from Fontenelle, informing us that the Pawnees, the whole tribe, was moving along the Elkhorn River and committing depredations, destroying property, going into the cabins of the settlers, and breaking up and destroying their little furnishings.10 And I remember also this fact, reporting that they had

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found some feather beds that the settlers had brought with them from their eastern homes, and had caused a reign of terror from the lower Elkhorn up by way of Fontenelle. It was the principal town out northwest from Omaha beyond there, including West Point, and reaching around then to Tekamah. The couriers came demanding protection of the government. The governor was then at Nebraska City, Governor Samuel Black, who lived there; it was his home.11 The information and demand was so pressing that the most prompt action was necessary. The organic law provided that in the absence of the governor from the territory the secretary should then exercise and perform the duties of governor, but only in the governor’s absence from the territory. Well, the question arose for a moment whether the secretary [of the territory, J. Sterling] Morton, could assume the duties of executive.12 There was a brief consultation between him and myself in one of the stores on Farnam Street in Omaha. We took but a few minutes to consider that question. I desired that he should assume the responsibility of governor and issue the orders to me to march to the defense of our beleaguered settlers on the border. Well, without hesitation he decided to do so and issued the order to me to move to the defense of the settlers, knowing that perhaps the question might be raised afterwards as to the authority of his act, and also as to the authority of my act. I executed his order. But he had no hesitation in taking the responsibility, and I had none in executing the order. I raised about forty men in Omaha, and we left that city at midnight, and by four o’clock the next afternoon we entered Fontenelle, where all the people had gathered from afar above the Elkhorn and below it. All the cabins and homes of the settlers were abandoned; all

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were gathered in there; and I remember well the appearance of the people there when we reached Fontenelle and marched into the town. They were overjoyed at seeing us, at witnessing our arrival, for they knew then that something was to be done for their protection. I remained there two days in gathering up a force for the purpose of pursuing the Pawnees. The men were anxious to unite with us, for they had suffered from the Pawnees before, and they desired to have some satisfaction from them, and I was of the same mind. They had given me a great deal of trouble; three times I had been to the Pawnee village and held a council with the chief, and they would always make all kinds of promises to me, only to break them afterwards. The chief would lay the trouble upon their young men, the braves, saying that they could not control them. I told them that they must control them or that the government would send a force upon them and wipe them out if they didn’t control their men. Of course I had to talk large to make an impression. Well, we organized there and raised a force, including those who accompanied me from Omaha, of 194 men. I had taken with us one piece of artillery from Omaha, the only one the territory had, and thus organized, and laying in a supply of provisions for the expedition, for I could not tell how long we would be out, we took the trail of the Pawnees and followed them. There were in that tribe then about 5,000 Indians, males, females, and children.13 They had cut quite a wide swath along the west bank of the Elkhorn they having 500 and odd of ponies. They had turned them into all the wheat fields and corn fields where the crops were then growing profusely and cut down everything. Their destruction was complete, and it was enough to inspire the frontiersmen with a determination to secure some satisfaction. I should have explained

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this: that it was impossible to communicate with Black at Nebraska City within from two to three days. There were then no telegraph lines, and letters and messengers had to cross the Missouri at Omaha on a flatboat over to Council Bluffs and then on down on the Iowa side to Plattsmouth, and cross the Missouri there back again on the flatboat to the Nebraska side. You can see that thus the communication between Nebraska City and Omaha could not be carried on except at a very slow pace. We could not wait for communications with Governor Black, and hence the acting governor Morton at once took the responsibility to act though we had reasons for believing that Governor Black was then in the territory, and if thoroughly scrutinized, our action in assuming the duties might be called in question. But I say it now in his presence that I was grateful to him that he did take the action and gave me the orders as the executive of the territory, for I felt and I knew it was our duty to stop the outrages which were then being carried on and secure protection from the Pawnees. Then General Samuel R. Curtis, a distinguished citizen of Keokuk, Iowa, who was a graduate of West Point and for some years served in the regular army and had been engineer for the government, was there at that time, a member of Congress from that district in which Keokuk is located. He was of a military turn of mind, and hearing of the action we had taken, and that a force had started from Omaha, of his own volition, and prompted by a patriotic and military spirit, he followed us, and overtook us, I think, perhaps two days out from Omaha. I was very glad to receive him, because I knew he had had a military education, was really a military man, and the only experience I had had was in contact with the Indians. The Pawnees and then the Sioux would make me a great deal of trouble,

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making me sometimes wish that I had never accepted a commission, given me by the first legislature, of brigadier general, and the second session enlarging my sphere of duty and making me a major general. I appointed General Curtis inspector general on my staff. I desired to give him recognition, for I had a great respect for the man, knew him well. He had visited Omaha frequently when he was on his political campaigns, and he was a very valuable man. I had also invited a Lieutenant Robinson, of the regular army who was in command of the Eighteenth Dragoons of Cavalry, then being designated “dragoons,” to join me in the expedition, and he did so.14 We then organized the expedition more fully, and I desired to give him the compliment of an appointment, Lieutenant Robinson, and the command, at my suggestion, elected him as colonel under me, and he was a valuable acquisition. We moved along, I think, one day after General Curtis joined me, when Governor Black, hearing that we had moved from Omaha, came into that city as rapidly as he could get there, and then followed us, taking our trail, and followed alone until he came up with us, I think the fourth night. Now, Governor Black was as perfect a gentleman I think as I ever met, with one exception. When he was himself he was a gentleman. He was an able man; he was a good lawyer; he had been a judge of the southern district of Nebraska before Buchanan appointed him governor of the territory. He was an orator, a polished gentleman, with this exception, and it was the most unfortunate one — he would sometimes get tight. I suppose you all know what that means. Sometimes, well perhaps four or five months, he would get on a regular tear, beastly drunk, I am sorry to say. I want to inject this remark right here that I have never

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related this incident which I am about to give you, except to a few friends. I have never given it to the public and declined to write anything about it. I may state right here that when he left Nebraska he went back to Pennsylvania, the state from which he came, and was commissioned as colonel of a Pennsylvania regiment at the head of which he was shot in the head while leading his regiment into battle at Chancellorsville — one of those battles in West Virginia.15 He thus died honorably for his country. I have thought perhaps his widow might be living or some child of his still living, and I didn’t desire to state fully this statement. We were pursuing a force where the Indians numbered 1,400 warriors, and my force was only 194 men and a single piece of artillery. I can see now that it was a dangerous one, and yet I endeavored to take in the full force of the situation. I was determined to inflict some punishment upon the Pawnees for the demands made upon me by the governor every time, that I must go to the Pawnees and induce them to compel those who committed the depredations to cease. It had become, as I said, somewhat monotonous, and this was in particular. We had gotten beyond the pale of civilization, there was nothing before us, nor upon either side of us, east or west. We had gotten into the wilderness of prairie, and we were a kind of free lance. I have said Governor Black overtook us, I think the fourth night after we had left Fontenelle. I found at once, as soon as he came into camp, that he had been partaking too freely of stimulants, and I began to think that I might have trouble with him. Well, at night, before we retired, I discovered that he was pretty drunk. He was the governor and my commander-in-chief. As you all know,

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the civil power is supreme over the military; he was ahead of me. I began to inquire with myself what course I should take with him, for knowing his propensity, and knowing when he was under the influence of liquor he was an exceedingly disagreeable acquaintance. He was, oh, I can’t hardly describe it, because I knew after he commenced partaking of liquor he would become beastly drunk. That night while he was asleep I got hold of his demijohn under the seat of the ambulance and took it out, and took out the stopple. I held it upside down, and you know what happened, and poured out the whisky. But the next day I found he had a small bottle which I had not seen or discovered from which he was still drinking. He beat me there. In the middle of the day we went into camp. We had been marching since an early hour of the morning, for the weather was very hot, and I endeavored to make as much distance as possible in the earlier part of the forenoon, when there would be less heat. So we went into camp at noon; to give men and animals about two or three hours’ rest was my plan. He was so unfit to be about that I had two soldiers help him into a small tent which I had pitched on purpose for him, to keep him from the rest of the command. I tried to save him as much as possible from the sight of the soldiers but too many of them knew what his propensity was. Well, during that time of rest the men were lying under the baggage wagons to get in the shade as much as possible, and I was under one on the outside of the camp, when Colonel Robinson came to me and said, “General, I’m in trouble.” I said, “What is the matter, colonel?” “Why,” he said, “Governor Black sent for me to come to his tent and I went there.” He being the commander-in-chief and Colonel Robinson a regular officer, knows no duty but to obey the orders of a superior officer. He went to the tent,

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and pulling the flaps aside, there Governor Black lay on the ground, and raising himself up on his elbow, he said, “Colonel Robinson,” in that maudlin way, “I order you to take seventy-five men and go over to Columbus” — that was away to the south of us — “and procure twenty barrels of whisky and four sacks of flour.” Now that is the literal order which Colonel Robinson assured me Governor Black gave him, and some soldiers were near the tent on the outside, and they overheard it. There was no mistake about it; there was the exact orders. The ire and indignation of those soldiers was aroused at once. They began to say, and there was some cursing and swearing like this, “I’ll be damned if I ever came out on the prairie to execute such an order.” There was a spirit of mutiny. As Robinson heard them and spoke to me, I sprang up as soon as possible and mounted my horse and rode in front of the whole command, and in as loud a voice as I could command — and I think I could then be heard over a good section of prairie when I was in earnest — I called to the men, “Attention! Battalion! Fall into ranks! Prepare to march!” I made it as impressive as possible to have its effect on the men. It was instantaneous. Every man rose to his position and was ready to obey my orders. There was no sign of mutiny after that. I settled that question. I ought to have said in the first place that it is very unpleasant for me to relate incidents where I am obliged to refer to myself, but I could not make this statement without doing so, although it is not to my taste. I have generally avoided relating any reminiscences in which I have taken a part for that reason, and I beg that you will not think that I am doing it now, and so I say I only do it because I was obliged to do it. The men all took their places in rank, companies were told off ready for the march. I then

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detailed two soldiers and ordered them to take Governor Black from the tent, put him into the ambulance, and take seats with him. If he objected, I said, “Put him into the ambulance at all hazards.” Well, sometimes in the life of a man the time comes when he must act upon the instant, promptly. It is an emergency which requires prompt action, and I knew if I had not given the order to the men to fall in and prepare to march, that expedition would have broken up there in disgrace. I could not hold the men there under any law because they were not enlisted men; they were real volunteers, having taken no oath of office and having joined in the expedition without being mustered in, there being no officer authorized to muster in. So I could not have held the men there except by letting them see, at once, that authority was still there, that I was their commander and took the responsibility of arresting the governor and keeping him as a prisoner until the drunkenness had passed off. They put him in the ambulance and took seats with him. He behaved reasonably well with them, and when we arrived in camp I had the tent pitched for him only, and the two soldiers in charge of him took him in there. Whether he had formed a realizing sense of his condition then or not I was not certain; but I was not going to take any chances. I held him a prisoner until the second morning after that, giving them orders not to allow him to leave the ambulance under any circumstances, nor anybody else to have any communication with him but myself, but giving them the order that if he desired to see me, or desired to leave the ambulance, to report to me at once, and I would attend to it. Well, the next morning the expedition resumed its march, and he was gradually sobering off; he exhausted his supply of whisky which he had in his small bottle, and he found he could get none from the demijohn. We

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moved along that day, stopping for nooning near the Elkhorn River. We were all the time on the south side of the Elkhorn. When we passed where the town of West Point now is there were only five or six abandoned cabins. They had all gathered into Fontenelle. That was the last sign of human habitation until we reached the Pawnees. I may be permitted to remark here that it gave me an excellent opportunity to see what Nebraska was then in the wilderness, away from civilization. It was a beautiful landscape as my eyes ever rested upon. I wondered almost why the Almighty did not locate the Garden of Eden in this territory that was so lovely beyond description; the tall grass of the prairie, rich verdure of green, the birds flitting around to some extent from little twigs, there were no trees there except over on the Elkhorn, which we were in sight of all the time, I believe. We passed where the towns on the Elkhorn road have since been located, originally within a range of two or three miles of those cities. Where Norfolk now is there was not a sign of habitation. One afternoon we were on the watch for the Pawnees, realizing that we were drawing near to them; it was of the utmost importance that no information should reach them that soldiers were pursuing them. It was, I remarked, a hazardous expedition, and I was blamed a great deal afterwards, I found, for taking that command where I did, 194 men against 1,400 Indian warriors. It was a rather remarkable position. Having had some experience afterwards in the late Civil War, I can say that I can remember of no occasion when such a small body of men were to be pitted against such an immense number of men.16 But my men I knew to be trustworthy. They were frontiersmen, indeed. They were fighting men. They were those who had gone into their fields to cultivate the soil with a rifle

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by their side and laid it down when they were performing their work on their claims and having it ready to go to their homes if any Indians appeared. In that way they were living constantly on the qui vive — watching for Indians; and thus they were prepared. They were schooled for such service as they were then engaged in with me, and I felt the utmost confidence in them; thoroughly armed with rifles, shotguns, and muskets, which they knew so well how to use, while the Indians, 1,400 of them, and I learned that number from an interpreter who had been with me on my visit to the Pawnee village to hold a council — Mr. [Samuel Allis] a most excellent man, who had been employed as interpreter by the government — it is not the Indians who gave me that statement — that they numbered about 1,400 fighting men, but they were poorly armed; some of them with the old flintlock musket.17 Well, having thus the utmost confidence [in] my men I should not have hesitated to have met them in the open field. I had one instrument along which I knew carried fear to the Indians and that was the cannon; but I was on the watch to see that no person passed us, any other Indian passing on in the direction of the Pawnees to inform them that soldiers were pursuing them. In the afternoon about four o’clock we met an Omaha Indian who was coming from the direction to which we were marching. I stopped him and questioned him about the Pawnees. He could speak a little English so that I could understand him; and he informed me as near as he could that they were in camp about nine miles further on. Being four o’clock in the afternoon and very warm — we could make the march between one o’clock in the morning and dawn to the Pawnee camp — we went into camp right there, as we were near a stream of water, and the men and animals rested until one o’clock in the

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morning, when camp was broken; the train of baggage wagons hitched up and everything in readiness and we moved forward rapidly. I could gage the movement, speed, or rather the time by the rapidity with which the marching went on. I could calculate by the hour at what time we would strike their camp. I had formed that plan from the beginning, so as to come upon them at break of day. As we passed over a rising ground, not exactly a steep hill, we came in sight of their camp. The day was just breaking; we could see the smoke curling from their teepees and the squaws running hither and thither gathering up brush and wood and building their fires in order to cook their breakfasts. Well, I gave the order for the command to charge, and the charge went, helter, skelter. The cavalry of 194 were all mounted with fleet horses, and they did charge; they went with the speed of the wind almost, and that old cannon lumbered along over the hillocks, and little chug holes, but it kept pretty near up with us, and the baggage wagons followed; and the cavalry, and the tramp of horses, nearly 200, the baggage wagons all going upon the jump, made a tremendous noise on the prairies, which attracted the attention of the squaws. They saw us coming. We could see them running into their camp to get the male Indians out. You know the squaws perform all the drudgery; they get the underbrush and the wood and the water, and do the cooking, while the lazy, lousy, measly Indians lay in their tents for their women to do all the drudgery. And that is the reason why I have never had much respect for the Indians. Once while I was holding council with the chiefs in their village, some miserable vagabonds of Indians went way around after I had gotten into the great council tent of the Indians, got into our wagons, there were four of them,

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which we left on the eastern side of the river, and stole every bit of provisions we had, while the chief was promising everything to prevent the Indians from committing further depredations. I just mention this. My wife, when I knew that I had to go, she knew about what kind of food suited us — she worked all one night frying doughnuts, over a peck of them, nearly half a bushel; boiled a ham, baked nine loaves of bread and some other things; and when I left Massachusetts a friend gave me a bottle of very choice brandy. I thought I would take that along for snake bites and those rascally Indians stole it, while the chiefs were promising that they should commit no more depredations; went to my wagon and took everything we had in it. We had crossed back from their village, and I was anticipating a good meal; we hadn’t a thing to eat. You need not be surprised if I had lost confidence in the Indians. This is only one instance of their treachery of which I have known — but to resume: We charged upon the village, and as we approached we could see the male Indians just coming out of their teepees, and as my men came up right in front of them into line the cavalry formed in line, the artillerymen had their piece loaded, and the guns were loaded of the cavalrymen, and while the chiefs were rushing out towards us, some of them held up a white wolf skin in token of surrender, and slapping their breasts, some of them could utter these words: “Me good Indian.” “Old Peter,” the chief of the Pawnees, whom I had met in those interviews, recognized me and I recognized him.18 He made a rush right to my horse’s head, wrapping the starry banner around him which Buchanan had given him, exclaiming, “Me good Indian, good Indian, can not shoot

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under this flag.” He had that idea about the value of the flag. While these demonstrations of surrender were going on, while our troops came into line, I had the order upon my lips to fire. It was my chance at the Indians; I wanted a little satisfaction for the way they had treated me. When I had been in their village they had robbed me of everything I had to eat. I had that word upon my lips to my men, who were watching me closely and constantly with their rifles poised, and the artillerymen ready to touch off their gun, when some invisible agency seemed to hold me back.19 I had time to realize this, that if I fired upon them I should be charged with having been guilty of inhuman massacre, for my men with that piece of artillery would have mowed down hundreds of them. The women were mixed with the male Indians and could not be separated. I say some invisible, indescribable agency held me back. I did not give the order. Now, I have rejoiced since and do now rejoice that I did not; for the result afterward was accomplished without shedding blood. I say they surrendered completely. There was never a more perfect surrender than there was there, and that was the reason, under the influence of something, perhaps higher than I, held me back. The result was that they turned over to me six or eight of the men who they claimed had been guilty of the depredation upon the whites. They entered into written stipulations, I think, that the expenses of claims resulting from the destruction of the property of the settlers should be taken out of their annuities, nothing more could be required of them, and we remained there a part of the day and started on our homeward march towards Columbus to get on the military road. Two or three Indians were brought into Omaha and put in jail there and kept there for some time, the

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supposed guilty ones. But I went off to the war in the South and did not keep run of them. There was never a depredation committed upon any settler afterward. They were completely cowed easily by the display of my force there to whom they had surrendered.20 Thus the object was accomplished, for they became friends of the whites. But this fact was accomplished, also; the government took immediate steps to put the Pawnees on their reservation in Nance County, where the town of Genoa is situated, and put an agent out on their reservation, who remained with them. Thus there was accomplished that which we were seeking, perfect peace with the Pawnees from that time forward; thus it was accomplished without the shedding of blood, because it would have been a fearful massacre if we had fired upon them. That expedition was an important one, not only for the people but for the Indians. They made peace and they submitted to the authority of the governor, and maintained peace, and they furnished four companies of Pawnee Indians, who were organized as Pawnee scouts, who served with the government troops in their wars against the Indians on the plains. They were with General Crook and other Indian fighters and performed most useful services.21 Now, sometimes an attempt has been made to belittle that expedition. I say, having been in it, and commanded it, it was a most important expedition, and as hazardous and daring as any that ever came under my observation during the Civil War. It is a piece in our history of which I am proud for the effects which it produced — the results which they accomplished; and when anybody seeks to belittle it, or any member of that expedition, he knows not what he is talking about. Those men who composed that force of 194 men were brave, as heroic as any soldiers that

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I ever saw in the Civil War. They were soldiers in reality. And they were inspired by the noblest of motives, which were to protect their families, their children. If you make it safe for other settlers to come into Nebraska and settle under a government where they knew the flag would be respected and they should be respected in the enjoyment of their rights — that expedition did accomplish that result. Before that some settlers were getting scared and unwilling to remain in Nebraska. I have gone from place to place and imparted courage to the people to remain in this territory assuring them that they should be protected in the enjoyment of their property; and I saw the result was accomplished. They were induced to remain and give up all thoughts of leaving Nebraska, because of the facts which I have designated. I have perhaps taken up too much of your time — I know I have; but I almost hesitated to make this statement for fear I should take up too much time. But as I never spoke of it before, I have never given anything to the press, although I have been often and often urged to do so. But I did now, being urged this afternoon, did desire to make a clear statement of what did occur, because I have spoken from positive knowledge. Knowing everything, responsible for everything connected with it, I have now presented to you this statement of facts in regard to that expedition.

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Reuben W. Hazen was born in Vermont in 1820. He moved to Ohio when he was a young man and then to Nebraska in 1858. Hazen settled in Fremont, where in 1893 he published The History of the Pawnee Indians. This small book contains numerous errors of fact. It would have been more appropriate to call it “Bits of Pawnee History.” Hazen’s article offered here constituted a chapter in his History. Hazen was captain of the so-called Fremont company of the Nebraska militia and a member of John M. Thayer’s unit sent to punish the Pawnees. His recollection of events is not always in accord with Thayer’s “Pawnee War of 1859.” Hazen died at his home on January 7, 1897.22

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The Pawnee Indian War, 1859 capt. r. w. hazen In the winter of deep snow,23 1853, the Sioux in large numbers came down upon the [Pawnee] village on the south side of the Platte River, opposite what was once known as the “Lone Tree” station, now Central City, pouncing upon them, butchering a large number, not even sparing the squaws or papooses, and no doubt the intention was to exterminate them, or at least weaken their tribe.24 The next great loss was their ponies, driven away by the Sioux at the same time. With their depleted numbers they removed to southern bluffs, south of the Platte River, about three miles from Fremont. The Pawnees were ripe for revenge and made raids upon the Sioux for ponies to replenish their stock, and to more securely hold them, made a large stockade in the center of their village for the night. In the summer of 1858, twelve of the young bloods of the Pawnees started out on the warpath, evidently to steal

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ponies, smarting under the whip of their defeat in former years. Going to the far westward the eagle eye of the Sioux sighted them and divining their object, they turned loose at night the same number of old horses they lately had taken. In the morning the Sioux found their trail, and overtaking them killed eleven of the Pawnees, and slitting the ears of the twelfth into shreds, sent him home to tell the tribe what had become of the others. The wailing of the tribe was heard at Fremont. On the last days of June 1859, the Pawnees being menaced by the Sioux and making preparations to go on their buffalo hunt, they moved to the north side of the river with their families and effects. The next day they had the discomfiture of seeing the principal part of their village, which had taken years to build, go up in smoke. Their council house, measuring sixty feet in diameter, was destroyed at this time.25 The next day the tribe began to move their slow length along at the rate of fifteen or twenty miles a day. It was their usual custom to rise early in the morning and travel until midday and then rest themselves and stock for the next day’s journey. Arrangements had been made with the Omaha tribe to meet them somewhere upon the Elkhorn River to give the tribes more strength against the Sioux in case necessity required it. On the 29th the Pawnees camped on Cuming Creek, and on that day and the next they made a raid upon Captain Thomas S. Parks’ herd of cattle. Captain Parks had taken up quite a tract of fertile land, and before settling had purchased in Ohio a lot of thoroughbred stock. Most of this stock was killed or wounded as well as the other cattle in the herd. The loss was heavy, amounting to $1,100 or $1,200.26

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The loss could hardly be endured among the settlers of that early day. The word went around and the people became aroused at the situation. As the Pawnees passed up the Elkhorn valley they continued their depredations, taking cattle and robbing families of their scanty supplies. At DeWitt their depredations came to an end. Before this, word had been sent to Governor Black, then governor of the territory, for the protection of the settlers. Twenty-five men offered their services and went to DeWitt just in time to save the people and property of the last settlement. An engagement took place in which three Indians were shot and Dr. Peters wounded.27 The only alternative for the settlers and soldiers was to hustle themselves with their little effects and leave as fast as possible, in which they were successful, though they had been spied at the Pawnee camp and were discovered catching their ponies, supposedly for an attack. The word went around and one can imagine the feeling of the people of the territory. Major General John M. Thayer was soon at Fontenelle, bringing word from Governor Black, then at Nebraska City to rendezvous at the above place and call for a volunteer force of men to chastise the Indians. Word came to Fremont July 2d from General Thayer asking for a volunteer force which should be ready when called for. A meeting was called and the citizens responded to the call nobly. Additions came from North Bend and Maple Creek. The Fremont volunteer company consisted of forty men. They elected officers as follows: Captain, R. W. Hazen; first lieutenant, William West; second lieutenant, Henry Campbell; orderly sergeant, James Lee; wagonmaster, W. F. Reynolds. The formation of the company took quite all the available men in our little place and vicinity, leaving only a handful

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of men to protect our families, though we had no fears, as there was no enemy in the rear. And here it might not be out of place to mention the heads of families: Rev. and Mrs. I. E. Heaton, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Kittle, Mrs. Margaret Turner, Mr. and Mrs. George Turner, Mr. and Mrs. R. W. Hazen, Mr. and Mrs. J. C. Flor, Mr. and Mrs. E. H. Rogers, Mr. and Mrs. L. W. Reynolds, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Moorland, and Mr. and Mrs. J. G. Smith. All lived in log houses except Mr. Heaton and family. E. H. Barnard and Herman Kountze also occupied a cabin. When we were celebrating our natal day, the Fourth of July, General Thayer dispatched a messenger, Lieutenant George Hepburn, ordering us to rendezvous at Jalappa, on Maple Creek, the next day. Upon arriving at the appointed place we met General Thayer and staff, Captain [James H.] Ford and artillery of Omaha and Captain [William] Kline of Fontenelle with about forty men. General Thayer immediately inquired about our provisions, and we were directed to have our wagonmaster return to Fremont and get at least two weeks’ provisions. This day was well occupied in marching and countermarching, exercising the manual of arms and loading at three commands, which was much needed with raw recruits. In the meantime General Thayer received a message from Governor Black to make slow marches until his arrival. The next day, the 6th, we moved on to a point of ground near J. B. Robinson’s mill.28 Before evening, Governor Black came up with quite a force and was saluted with a hurrah. The force consisted of Lieutenant Robinson, United States army, with nineteen mounted men, and Major General [Samuel R.] Curtis, United States army, and Captain [George F.] Kennedy of Florence, with a company of mounted horse. We then numbered all told not exceeding two hundred

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men but well equipped for the emergency. The governor thought a complete organization of officers should be made for our battalion, and it was, as follows: Major General Thayer, commander; General E. [Experience] Estabrook, of Omaha adjutant general; Major Curtis, inspector general; Lieutenant H. N. Robinson, lieutenant colonel.29 Each captain retained his position as captain of his company, excepting Sergeant Robinson, who was made commander of the United States Dragoons. Dr. [J. P.] Peck, of Omaha, was appointed army surgeon. A complete organization having been made, on the 8th we took up our line of march, making from twenty-five to thirty miles per day, following the Indian trail in its meanderings. There was nothing to mar our feelings and the boys were jubilant and resolute, and many were speculating upon booty — the number of ponies they would take back to pay them for the expedition. Daily we found signs of the nearer approach of the Indians and on the 12th in the afternoon, we spied a small group of tepees at a distance. It proved to be a camp of the Omaha tribe. From one of the Omahas we learned that the Pawnees were in camp some eight or ten miles in advance. Making friends with him and persuading him to keep the matter of our intentions a secret, he was sent forward to the Omaha camp to instruct them to part from the Pawnees in the morning on seeing us coming. The order was carried out. General Thayer visited his men in the evening, ordering them to be ready for the march at two o’clock in the morning. Under the excitement but very few closed their eyes that night, not knowing what the morning might bring forth. At two o’clock the bugle sounded the reveille. The men and teams were soon ready; we started in more than usual quick time to reach the Indians before daylight and

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in their camp. We reached their camp just as the sun was rising in the east. They hearing the rumbling sounds of the train, quite all had left in a hurry, leaving their pots and kettles boiling their soups upon the crotches and poles. A detention of thirty minutes occurred here in filling up the creek for our train to pass (now called Battle Creek). We soon got under way again. In the haste of the Indians to get away they had cut loose their baggage and tent poles which lay promiscuously over the prairie. We went about three miles when we arrived on a rise of ground near the Elkhorn. A half mile away was the main body of the Pawnees and fifteen or twenty rods in our advance lay five or six hundred of the red skins in a dry creek, or draw, armed to do battle with bow and arrows. They had divested themselves of clothing wearing their moccasins and a breech-clout. All was excitement, as we had formed in line with our respective companies for the emergency and at this moment Carrow-na-Sharrow, the head chief, came riding up. Sergeant Robinson fired his revolver at him, wounding his pony in the neck, no doubt to bring on an action. At this point the chief threw away his bow and arrows, saying: “Me no fight; me been to Washington; me saw the great father; me no fight.” During this time Governor Black rode up and ordered no gun to be fired without his orders, though the match had been lit for the cannon and men in readiness. At this instant one of the other chiefs had displayed the stars and strips. They had been taught when they formed a treaty at Washington in 1857 that the stars were an emblem of the United States and on presenting the flag they then received an opposing foe as an enemy to the United States. A parley ensued. The reader can picture to himself the line of defense, and our foe upon a plateau of the Elkhorn.

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Some upon our right had swum the river, mounting the bluff; others escaping for dear life were crossing the prairie and mounting the bluff half a mile to our left, and when our troops found there would be no fighting, for their blood was up, there was no little cursing and swearing when they remembered the atrocities and thefts of the Pawnees. The chiefs made their appearance, carrying the stars and stripes unfurled, for a consultation. All were trembling with fear and shaking like an aspen leaf. The governor then told them, through an interpreter, his object and the depredations they had committed upon the inhabitants, their friends. Scarade-ne-Sal, their former chief and orator, made a speech through the interpreter, of great length, striking his breast with his fist at almost every word to confirm his statements. He stated in his remarks that he thought his force sufficient to wipe us out of existence; “but,” said he, “what is the use? The Great Father in Washington would send his men by thousands and wipe us off the face of the earth.” Admitting the depredations which had been committed upon the inhabitants, he merely referred to their want and poverty. He agreed to pay all the sufferers and the expenses of the expedition. Governor Black here demanded that the desperadoes be given up who had been foremost in the depredations, and six were turned over, one of whom was wounded through the breast. Things being settled as fairly as could be, the command retraced their steps (many though reluctantly) recrossing Battle Creek to a bluff in the vicinity, where there was plenty of wood and water, to rest up for the day. In the afternoon the writer had occasion to reconnoiter a little over the prairie, when he met two well known persons with the wounded Indian. It was hinted at afterwards that

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the Indian was left in a secluded place with his blanket for a winding sheet. On the morning of the 14th, being refreshed, the command started in a southerly direction, the five Indian prisoners securely bound, following in the rear of the train and a guard following to watch them. In the morning we struck the Pawnee trail in a southerly direction to reach Beaver Creek. At noon we passed the camp of the Pawnees and Omahas. A short distance after passing the camp a halt was made, for reasons which were never understood. A squaw had been noticed following the young bloods, and at an opportune moment she severed their bonds and they bounded forth simultaneously. Marshal West, then marshal of the territory, followed two of them toward their camp, shooting one of them in the back, he threw up his hands and fell prostrate to the ground. Mr. Moorland, of the F. V. [Fremont Volunteer] company, was not so successful. Following the prisoners and shooting at them one ball penetrated the Omaha camp, wounding one of their number. On account of the excitement and commotion the battalion was ordered into line for defense. Before the command was in line an Omaha came rapidly up, dressed in citizens clothing probably the chief, informing General Thayer that one of his men had been wounded. Mr. Moorland was obliged to gave the Omaha his horse. Leaving their camp we passed on and in the afternoon reached Beaver Creek; men and horses rather famished and thirsty. Our horses were changed occasionally from the saddle to the harness. The wagon horses being without grain for a number of days had become greatly weakened. When descending towards Beaver Creek, we could see the Sioux Indians in

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groups probably to intercept the Pawnees on their march. On the morning of the 15th we took more of an easterly direction, following down the valley of Beaver Creek, thinking more of our families and friends. Nothing occurred to cause any displeasure during the day, and the next, the 16th before noon, we passed through Genoa. At this date the government had men employed erecting buildings for the Pawnees, school houses, grist mills, saw mills and other buildings, for their reception. At evening the command reached Columbus. Now the Pawnee expedition was at an end. On the 18th of July we reached our respective homes and were happy to find our families in good health. But the result of our following the redskins was unfortunate. Our corn fields had required our attention and the result was not more than half a crop. But there was an advantage gained. The Pawnees were whipped. They ever afterward respected the white people and their rights as citizens of Nebraska. It has been more than thirty years since the event and it may not be out of place to make some remarks in relation to the living and dead comrades. Governor Black was succeeded as governor in 1860; returned to Pennsylvania, raised a regiment in 1861, rose to brigadier general, and was killed, I think, at Gettysburg. Most of the Fremont volunteer force at the time were young men and those now living wear the frosty locks of age. Of Moorland it was reported he drove off some ponies from the Pawnees when they were upon their reservation. They found the trail toward Nebraska City. They took up their stock, killing Moorland on the prairie and leaving his flesh for the wolves and his bones to bleach in the sun. We left the Pawnees between the Elkhorn and Beaver Creek valleys. Their hunting was in the Sioux country, as

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the buffalo had been driven back by the white settlers; consequently their natural enemy, the Sioux, were contesting every inch of ground in their direction. At Wood River, near Fort Kearny, they had a battle depleting their numbers and Icarrow-na-Sharrow received a wound: lingering a few days he passed to his happy hunting ground. Being nearly famished for the want of food, about one hundred at night fall stole away from the eagle eye of the Sioux, going south into the buffalo country, and in three days returned with their ponies loaded down with meat. In the early fall the Pawnees returned to harvest their corn, preparatory to going to their reservation; first finding out how well they were received by the people of Fremont. Finding them friendly and not enemies, they had permission to cache their corn in the limits of the place until winter or spring, taking their time to remove it. In 1858, the Pawnees were enumerated by the government and numbered 3,100. When they left the reservation for the Indian Territory in 1876, their number was a little over 2,600. By good authority, in 1887 they only numbered between ten and eleven hundred.30

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By 1864 the Sioux, Cheyenne, and Arapaho realized their homeland was being overrun by white settlers. The “outbreak” began in the spring with occasional thefts of the settlers’ livestock, but by summer it had grown into full-scale attacks on white communities as far east as the Blue River in southeast Nebraska.

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The Massacre at Oak Grove Ranch capt. edward b. murphy Reports came to Fort Kearny that every ranch and stage station between Fort Kearny and Big Sandy Creek was burned.31 The commandant was ordered by his superior officer to investigate this report.32 He ordered me to go east on the Overland stage road to Big Sandy Creek, if necessary, find out what there was in the report, and fight the Indians if compelled to do so. I was to take ten days’ rations, one hundred rounds of ammunition for the carbines, and the same for the pistols. We were also to take two pieces of artillery, the chests of each to be filled with spherical case grape and canister. We had but one wagon with us. I got ready and told the colonel that I would return by way of the Republican River. He said, “Do not do that.” I started immediately after dinner and had one hundred and twenty-five men when I left the fort. About eight miles east of the fort I met Lieutenant Giger, selected twenty of his best men, and took them along with me. When the lieutenant arrived at the fort he reported to the colonel that I had taken twenty of his best men. This was more than the officer wanted to spare, as he feared an attack on the fort. He sent a courier after me. The citizens who were camped on the reservation were anxious to know what devilment had been done east of the fort by the Indians,

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and no one was more interested than Benjamin Holladay, owner of the stage line, who was on the ground. So they raised a purse of twenty-five dollars to bribe this courier, and sent a man after him mounted on a swift horse. He was to give the courier the twenty-five dollars, and he was not to deliver any order to me, but to come back and tell the colonel that the Indians drove him back and that he could go no further. This worked all right for the citizens, and the courier did not follow me; so I went on my way, making fifteen miles that afternoon and twenty-five miles the next day. The Indian spies were watching us. We put out strong guards at night, slept on our arms, started before breakfast, and arrived at the dining station of the stage company, where we took breakfast. The stage people and the passengers had sat down to breakfast. The stage was waiting at the door. Mounted men came from the nearest ranch and told the passengers to fly for their lives — that the Indians had killed three men five miles south of this eating station. They left the table without touching their coffee. The ham was cooked and on the table and the bread on the plate. The ladies of the ranch put a few things into the stage, the driver put on his whip, and they struck out for the fort. That was the condition in which I found that eating station. The Indians did not molest the passengers on their way to the fort. We fed our horses, had breakfast, and started about ten o’clock. We soon came to a place where eight wagons had been camped. They had formed no corral, and as they were hitching up in the morning the Indians came upon them. One team started out one way and the others in opposite directions. The savages killed the eight men, owners of the

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wagons, and took their stock, arms, and ammunition. Their wagons were standing there on the prairie, their bodies lying in the hot sun with no one to bury them. They had been scalped and had then been dead five or six days. We gave them as decent a burial as was possible and started for Pawnee ranch to stay over night. We arrived at Pawnee ranch quite late and found that ranch all pierced with bullets.33 Several wagon loads of goods were scattered around on the ground. The ranch looked as if it had been besieged. We put out a strong guard for the night and divided the command, half of them sleeping at the house and half at the stable. Indians were watching us all night and firing at our guards, who returned the fire. We had everything arranged in case of a night attack. There was a war party sent out from the main body to harass us. Several parties of this kind were kept out all the time, and relieved by others when they were worn out. That is their custom in spying and guarding, and posting the main body as to the whereabouts of the enemy. We found some hay near this ranch and hauled in two loads of it, and stayed at the ranch another day and night. About three o’clock in the afternoon I saw a party of men coming up the road. I climbed upon the stable and discovered that they were white men. They halted, as they were uncertain as to who we were. I sent out a mounted man with a guidon. (A guidon is a V-shaped flag on a long staff.) When they discovered it was “Old Glory,” they were wild and came on a run for the ranch. They were a company of militia from Beatrice, Nebraska. One of them, the captain, was sheriff of Gage County, Nebraska, and the lieutenant was the deputy sheriff.34 I welcomed them and made inquiries about the Indians. They told me about a big train of wagons that were all stripped of their covers. The

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wagonmaster of this train was along with the company. He was a very wild man, owing to the loss of his cattle and mules, and would like something to happen to the Indians. His name was George Constable. I asked him how many wagons there were, and he said about two hundred.35 I asked him what kind of stock was used in propelling his train, and he said cattle and mules, principally cattle. He told me that the big Indian camp was about eight miles south of the Little Blue, that the Indians had plenty of other cattle and were having a big feast in eating them. I asked him if he would like to go along, and he said he would. I then told him I would try and recover his cattle for him, but as to his mules I could not say, as they were in all probability fettered out or closely corralled in the Indian camp. He said most of this train was owned by men in St. Joseph, Missouri, but he had ten wagons of his own in the train. He informed me that even if he could recover the stock, the loss to the owners in goods, freight, and money would be great. That company of militia numbered about thirty men. They told me that they had left their families in Gage County, Nebraska, without protection and were willing to help to drive the Indians out of the country. I did not wish to take them into a battle that I knew would be twenty to one, but if they would volunteer their services to help me in the fight the next day it might be the means of stopping those savages from going any further east and saving a great many lives. They knew that the Indians were defiant and thought they could do as they pleased, go when and where they wanted to, and these men were willing to risk their lives to teach them a lesson if it could be done. That was the kind of material of which the early settlers of Nebraska were made. Brave fellows they were, and to

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a man they voted to go that afternoon. I had them clean up their arms and look over their ammunition and other equipments, so as to be in shape on the third day to go for the red devils. That evening they discovered a lot of pistols of thirtysix caliber, with waterproof ammunition for them. They divided them up among themselves and my men, so that many of the men in the fight had three revolvers at their belts the first days of battle. This made me feel better, and also those militia men, as the barrels of those pistols were long and six-cornered, and were better than many rifles that were used in the army for short range work. We put everything in readiness that night for a march of thirty miles on the morrow. We had a strong guard that night, as we could see large bands of Indians on the hill south of the Pawnee ranch. I requested the militia to start ahead of us, but to keep within a reasonable distance, as they were not strong; and for them to send two men ahead of them — two on each flank where the country was broken. This they did, and we followed them, but were delayed in burying three bodies which we found in a patch of weeds near a burned ranch, scalped and badly decomposed. The buzzards sighted those bodies to us, as they were flying in the air in large numbers in the vicinity of the bodies. We also found where one of Ben Holladay’s passenger coaches had been burned, and also his eating station was in ruin. We found four other ranches that had been burned. We watched the Indians all day. They kept up their smoke so as to show our location, telegraphing in this way to the main body, so that the head warriors would understand the situation. Well indeed did these young warriors carry out their instructions, like trained soldiers. Sometimes they

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would fire rockets of different colors into the air. Those signals, I suppose, gave the headmen our strength. We finally arrived in the early afternoon at the Little Blue ranch, where the big train had been corralled, and O, such a sight!36 Such destruction of property! Boxes, barrels, sacks, boots, shoes, and clothing scattered on the ground. There were at least two hundred packages of different kinds of liquors, put up in cases, bottles, kegs, and barrels. The militia boys were dry when they got there, and some took a little too much. I told Mr. Constable, the wagonmaster of the train, that I had better put a guard over the liquor, for the men might get to sampling it too freely. That would not do for the critical condition in which we were placed at that time, with our savage enemy within a mile of us, as if they were guarding us. “Captain,” said he, “just spill it, on the ground.” The heads of the barrels and kegs were all broken in by the Indians and a great deal of the liquor had been taken away. I told him I would not do that, for it might compromise the government. There might be a claim and a demand made for the value of the liquor. “Well,” said he, “I will have to spill it myself.” He gave the hospital steward ten gallons of sour wine, as in case of wounds or sickness it might be needed. The large quantity of liquor remaining was all spilled and made a terrible stench. We moved the wagons close together and put the goods back into them. We did not have stable room for all the horses and had to tie some of them to the wagons, inside of the corral. We got everything in readiness for the night and were well prepared for anything that might happen. I was told that at the next ranch east of where we were camped there were three women taken captives, and the husbands of two of those women were killed, also two

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other men and two children, making six persons in all that were killed at the ranch, and three taken into captivity. The women’s names were Mrs. Eubanks, the lady of the ranch; Mrs. Julian, who was traveling with her husband, who was killed; Miss Roper, whose father was with the militia. He was nearly crazy about her captivity.37 I sent Captain Henry Kuhl of the Black Horse Cavalry, as they called themselves at that time, although not mounted — they were afterwards consolidated with the First Nebraska Cavalry — to go and bury all the dead that he found in the vicinity of the Eubanks’ ranch. I gave him a strong guard of fifty men, as the Indians were all around there, but told him not to bring on any fight with them only so far to carry out his instruction to bury the dead, and if he could not do that to come back and report the facts to me. He went to the ranch, found the Indians there in force, drove them across the Little Blue River, and found bodies of four men and two children belonging to the Eubanks family. One of the four men was the father of the children, and the mother was taken into captivity. These bodies were a terrible sight to behold. They were all scalped, their bodies naked, and their bowels cut open. They had been dead for several days and were badly decomposed. The captain buried them as well as he could and got back at dark.38 When supper was over and the horses cared for, I had a strong guard put out around the camp. Captain Kuhl watched in the forepart of the night and myself in the latter part. The Indians kept firing upon the guards all night. The guards returned the fire, and such a night as we passed! The men slept on their arms. The Indians were posted behind trees and mounds, and were strong. We counted about four hundred of them in the morning, as they went south to the main body, who were having a big feast at the

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time, with all the beef they wanted to eat, groceries and liquor taken from the train, flour and other supplies that were taken from the ranches. They certainly had a fine location for a camp and enjoyed life as only Indians with a full stomach could. They did not care to move away from that camp, with all those big herds of cattle in sight, with wagons and ranches full of groceries. What better layout could be found? And no one as yet to contest their right to them! They were happy. How, “Culah big Indian Me,” how was it at this time with those poor, unfortunate captive ladies in that camp? Husbands and children killed, their homes destroyed, with no hope in sight for their release from captivity. One of those women could understand a little of the Indian language. Although there were a great many different tribes represented in this big camp, and the language of each tribe was different, yet she understood them to say that there were soldiers in camp on the Little Blue and that the Indians were going to fight and kill the last one of them.39 She called the other women and told them what she had understood them to say. This news gave them new heart, with some hope that they would be recaptured in the near future. Their hearts became brave, and they bore up under the horrible insults heaped upon them by the old withered, jealous Indian squaws and their murderous, lustful bucks, with a silent prayer to heaven, fervently asking their Maker to change their captivity to freedom. I gleaned the above from their conversation with me after their release, which I was the means of bringing about, through the divine permission of the almighty God, who had ordained it so that I should be the means through which those poor creatures should be released from their captivity.40

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Henry E. Palmer was born in Ohio on July 31, 1841. In 1853 he went with his parents to Wisconsin. Palmer joined the Pikes Peak gold rush in 1860, but the next year he enlisted in the Union army. He became a captain in the Eleventh Kansas Volunteers in 1863 and fought Quantrill’s raiders. After the war, Palmer tried his luck in the Montana mines and then settled for a time in eastern Nebraska. In the 1880s he worked in livestock management and land promotion in Wyoming.41

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History of the Powder River Indian Expedition of 1865 h. e. palmer In August 1864, I was ordered to report to Gen. [Samuel R.] Curtis, who commanded the Department of Kansas, at Fort Leavenworth, and was by him instructed to take command of a detachment of the Eleventh Ohio Volunteer corps, sixty men, every one of them lately confederate soldiers with John Morgan on his raid into Ohio, captured there and confined at Columbus; they had enlisted in the federal service under the pledge that they were to fight Indians and not rebels.42 I was to conduct those men to Fort Kearny and there turn them over to Capt. Humphreyville of the Eleventh Ohio.43 On my way out, near Big Sandy, now Alexandria, Thayer County, Neb., I met a party of freighters and stage coach passengers on horseback, and some few ranchmen, fleeing from the Little Blue valley. They told me a terrible story; that the Indians were just in their rear; and how they had massacred the people west of them, none knew how many. All knew that the Cheyennes had made a raid into the Little Blue valley, striking down all before them.

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After camping for dinner at this place, and seeing the last citizen disappear toward the states, I pushed on toward the Little Blue, camping in the valley, saw two Indians about five miles away on a hill as I went into camp. Next day I passed Eubank’s ranch; found there little children, from three to seven years old, who had been taken by the heels and swung around against the log cabin, beating their heads to a perfect jelly. Found the hired girl some fifteen rods from the ranch, staked out on the prairie, tied by her hands and feet, naked, body full of arrows and horribly mangled. Not far from this was the body of Eubank, whiskers cut off, body most fearfully mutilated. The buildings had been fired, ruins still smoking. Nearly the same scene and desolation and murder was witnessed at Spring ranch. Camped that night at Liberty farm. Next day passed trains, in one place seventy wagons loaded with merchandise, en route for Denver. The teamsters had mounted the mules and made their escape. The Indians had opened boxes containing dry goods, taking great bolts of calicos and cloths, carried off all they wanted, and had scattered the balance, all they could, around over the prairie. Bolts of cloth had been seized by Indians on horseback who had dropped the bolt, holding on to one end of the cloth and galloped off over the prairie to stretch it out. Five wagons loaded with coal oil in large twenty gallon cans had been inspected by the Indians; some fifteen or twenty cans had been chopped open with hatchets, to see what was inside. None of them had sense enough to set the coal oil on fire; otherwise the entire train would have been destroyed; several wagons had been fired and burned. These Indians had attacked the troops at Pawnee ranch under the command of Capt. E. B. Murphy of the Seventh Iowa Cavalry and had driven them into Fort Kearny, although he had with

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him about one hundred and fifty [men] and two pieces of artillery. By this time the main body of the Indians were far away in the Republican valley, en route for Solomon River. I followed their rear guard to a point near where the town of Franklin, in Franklin County, on the Republican, now stands. Camped there one night and then marched north to Fort Kearny. On that day’s march we saw millions of buffalo. This raid on the Blue was made by the Cheyennes under the command of Black Kettle, One Eyed George Bent, Two Face, and others. Mrs. Eubank and Miss Laura Roper were carried away captives. We ransomed them from the Indians, who brought them to Fort Laramie in January 1865. Just prior to this outbreak on the Little Blue a number of the same Indians had attacked a train near Plum Creek, thirty-one miles west of Fort Kearny, on the south side of the Platte, and killed several men. From Plum Creek they moved on down the Little Blue, passing south of Fort Kearny.44 Col. J. M. Chivington, commanding the First Colorado, was in command of the District of Colorado, headquarters at Denver, and during October and November 1864, made several raids after these Indians. On the 29th of November, 1864, Col. Chivington, with three companies of the First Colorado and a detachment of the Third Colorado under command of Col. George L. Shoup, attacked Black Kettle, who with White Antelope, One Eyed George Bent, and other bands, were encamped on Sand Creek, 110 miles south-southeast of Denver. He attacked them just at daylight after a forty mile ride in the dark by the troops. The Indians were surprised, and according to the very best estimate 500 or 600 were killed, men, women, and children. The fight was made in the village and the troops had no

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time to pick for men and save the squaws. The half breed Indian chief, One Eyed George Bent, a son of Col. Bent, an educated rascal, was found among the dead. This was the first great punishment the Indians of the plains had received since Harney’s fight in Ash Hollow.45 On the 7th of January following, the military and stage station at Julesburg, at the old California crossing, on the south bank of the Platte, was attacked by the Indians. Capt. Nicholas J. O’Brien, familiarly known among the white man as “Nick O’Brien,” and by the Indians as O-zak-e-tun-ka, was in command of the troops. The Indians, Sioux and Cheyennes, to the number of about 1,000, ran the stage into the station, killing one man and one horse. Capt. O’Brien left a sergeant and twelve men in the fort to handle the two pieces of artillery, and mounting the rest, thirty-seven men and one officer besides himself, went to meet the savages. As the men neared the top of the hill they saw the large force opposed to them, but never flinched. The Indians charged on them with great fury and killed fourteen of the soldiers. Capt. O’Brien ordered his force to fall back, which they did in good order, leaving their dead comrades to fall into the hands of the Indians. The red skins endeavored to cut them off from the fort and came very near doing it. The men finally gained the fort and held the enemy at bay with artillery, two mountain howitzers. Night put an end to the conflict. The Indians withdrew during the night, and in the morning no one was in sight. The soldiers went out to find the bodies of their dead comrades; found them, but nearly all were beyond recognition, stripped of clothing, horribly mutilated, their fingers, ears, and toes cut off, their mouths filled with powder and ignited, and every conceivable indignity committed on their persons.

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The Indians, as they afterwards admitted, lost over sixty warriors. None were found on the field, as they always carry away their dead with them. The winter of 1865, some time in December, I think, Brevet Brigadier General Tom Moonlight, now governor of Wyoming, was placed in command of the District of Colorado and, until May, had his headquarters at Denver. Some time during this month he made his headquarters at Laramie.46 In March the District of the Plains was created and Gen. P. E. Connor was ordered from his command at Salt Lake to take command of the new district with headquarters first at Fort Kearny, then at Denver, and in June at Julesburg.47 At Laramie Gen. Moonlight organized an expedition to punish these marauding Indians. Before starting out on his expedition he learned from some of the trappers that two white women were with Two Face’s band near the south base of the Black Hills. Through interpreters, trappers, and Ogallala Sioux, communication was opened up with these Indians, and for a large number of ponies, blankets, and a quantity of sugar, etc., two white women were purchased from the Indians and brought into Laramie. Two Face and two of his best warriors came in with the prisoners to surrender them. The armistice was violated, Two Face and his warriors arrested and hanged in chains about two miles north of the fort on the bluff, where their bodies were allowed to hang until the crows carried away all the flesh from their bones. One of these women, Mrs. Eubank, was the wife and mother of the massacred party at Eubank’s ranch, near Spring ranch, on the Little Blue in Nebraska, now one of the best settled portions of the state. I had known Mrs. Eubank before the Indian troubles; met her at her home in the spring of 1861, just after she had moved from Ohio to brave the dangers of a pioneer life

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and to do the cooking for stage coach passengers on the old Ben Holliday line. She was a fine looking woman, full of youth, beauty, and strength; but a short time married, with bright prospects for the future. I remember, too, that her log cabin was unlike anything else I had seen on the road west. The dirt roof supported by heavy timbers was hid by cotton cloth, which gave to the interior of the cabin a clean, tidy look; the rough board floor was covered with a plain carpet; real china dishes, not greasy tin pans and cups, appeared on the table. That, with a fine dinner, made an indelible impression upon my mind. As I stood at the smoking ruins of her home in August 1864, knowing that her body could not be found and wondering if she were a captive among the Indians, I thought then, would I ever see her again alive? A few weeks after her rescue from the Indians, I met her again at Fort Laramie. The bright eyed woman appeared to me to be twenty years older; her hair was streaked with gray. Her face gave evidence of painful suffering and her back, as shown to Gen. Connor and myself, was one mass of raw sores from her neck to her waist where she had been whipped by Two Face’s squaws. The sores had not been permitted to heal and were a sight most sickening to behold. The poor woman was crushed in spirit and almost a maniac. I sent an escort with her and her companion, Miss Laura Roper, with an ambulance to Julesburg, where they were placed upon a coach and returned to the east. Miss Roper lived and married in Beatrice, Nebraska. Mrs. Eubank went back to her friends in Ohio and I have never heard from her since. Moonlight’s raid after the Indians was a failure. Through the grossest mismanagement he allowed his command to be ambushed, his horses captured, and several men killed, retreating to Fort Laramie in time to receive an order from

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Gen. Connor to report to the commanding officer at Fort Kearny, Nebraska, for muster out of service.48 My company was ordered upon the plains in February 1865. Left Fort Riley on the 16th after experiencing a most fearful snow storm and blizzard.49 The command, about six hundred strong, reached Fort Kearny, Nebraska, on the third day of March, 1865, and in a few days pushed on to Lodge Pole Creek and camped near the present town of Sidney, where they went into winter quarters, remaining there, however, only a few weeks; then they were ordered to Mud Springs, where they again attempted to build winter quarters; from there to Laramie, Platte Bridge, and Fort Halleck; then they were strung out on the overland stage route with some twenty-five hundred men in all, guarding the through mail line.50 I had returned to Fort Leavenworth from Fort Kearny on detached service, and in June 1865 was ordered to report to Gen. Connor; found him at the old California crossing on the Platte. Gen. Connor had with him two companies, L and M, of the Second California Cavalry, and a detachment of the Eleventh Ohio under command of Capt. Humphreyville and Capt. O’Brien with his company of the Seventh Iowa Cavalry and two mountain howitzers, manned by Capt. O’Brien’s men and commanded by him. The command were delayed several hours trying to cross the Platte, which was receiving snow water from the mountains and was even with the bank. The crossing was made by swimming the stock and floating over the stores, wagons, etc., in wagon boxes covered with tarpaulins. The men were also crossed on rafts. We camped on the Lodge Pole. In the afternoon after the first day’s march from the Platte the men indulged in fishing in Lodge Pole Creek. Trout and pike were hauled out by the bushel with gunny sack seines. While we were

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cooking our fish, forty mules that had made themselves useful drawing headquarters’ wagons and ambulances, etc., feeding on the opposite bank of the creek, about 100 yards from headquarters, were frightened by a jack rabbit. One of the mules leading the band was feeding close to a monstrous jack rabbit sitting behind a bunch of sage brush. Lieut. Jewett, aide-de-camp, and myself happened to discover the rabbit just before the mule saw it. He remarked that he thought we would see some fun when the mule got a little closer to the rabbit. Sure enough, when the mule got within a few feet of the rabbit Mr. Jack made a monstrous jump to change location. The mule gave a snort and started back among the herd on a gallop; all the rest of the mules joined the leader, becoming more frightened at every jump and away they went for the hills about a mile away, no stop or halt until they disappeared. The general ordered a squad of cavalrymen to gather their hobbled animals and start in pursuit. This was done but “nary” a mule was seen afterwards. When the cavalry reached the hills they were met by a band of Indians who beat them back. Before we could assist them, both Indians and mules were far away, and before we got near them they were across the North Platte near Ash Hollow, en route for the Black Hills.51 Next day we were attacked by Indians near Mud Springs and gave them a lively chase, the fight not ending until about ten o’clock at night, when the men gathered in camp to prepare their supper.52 Soon after their return to camp Gen. Connor decided he must send Lieut. Oscar Jewett, his aide-de-camp, who had great experience in Indian warfare, to Chimney Rock, some thirty miles north, where a large supply train in charge of Leander Black was encamped. Overhearing the instructions to Lieut. Jewett, that he must go alone and run the

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risk of riding among the Indians, I begged Gen. Connor to allow me to accompany Jewett. At that time I had not been assigned to any particular duty, was simply a passenger in the general’s ambulance, en route to join my company which was supposed to be stationed at Platte Bridge on the North Platte, west of Laramie. To impress the general with my claims, I gave him to understand that I had seen much of the Indians and was as capable of dodging their arrows as Lieut. Jewett. After some hesitancy the general consented that I might go, but instructed us to ride at least six hundred yards apart, one behind the other. We left at eleven o’clock, and at daylight next morning we were in the camp of the supply train and had the men aroused ready to meet an attack expected at daylight. The ride was a very interesting one, the night being as dark as any I ever experienced; neither one of us heard or saw the other until we met in Black’s camp. Next day Gen. Connor issued an order assigning me to duty as assistant adjutant general, District of the Plains. Our march from this point (Chimney Rock) to Fort Laramie was devoid of anything particularly exciting. We were detained at Fort Laramie until the 30th day of July, awaiting supply trains. During this time three expeditions were organized by Gen. Connor supplied with trains of provisions and munitions of war, and started for a general rendezvous at the mouth of the Rosebuds, on the south bank of the Yellowstone River. One of these expeditions, composed of the Sixteenth Kansas under command of Col. Thompson, left us at Laramie, marching in an easterly direction toward the headwaters of the Niobrara where they intercepted the second column, composed of the Eleventh and Twelfth Missouri Mounted Infantry under command of Col. N. P. Cole. The entire command, amounting to some 1,600 fight-

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ing men, were ordered to pass north of the Black Hills across the Powder River to the Rosebuds.53 Before starting we had a lively little matinee with the Sixteenth Kansas who mutinied, the entire regiment refusing to go after the Indians. They alleged that their term of service would be up before the expedition could be terminated, and that they had not enlisted to fight Indians, had not lost any red devils, and were not disposed to hunt for any. This mutiny was promptly checked by Gen. Connor, who appeared on the scene with his two companies of California troops (who were devotedly attached to the general) two pieces of artillery and a detachment of the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry, and formed them in line of battle ready for an immediate attack upon the Kansas camp unless they fell into line within five minutes and promised obedience to orders. The Kansas boys were smart enough to smell danger and to take the general at his word. They fell into line and went out upon the dismal, unprofitable inglorious limit after “scalp lifters.”54 Before leaving Laramie, about the 25th of July, I was relieved as adjutant general by Capt. C. J. Laurant, a regular assistant adjutant trail general, who had been sent by the secretary of war to report to Gen. Connor. The general refused to let me join my company and issued an order announcing me as his acting assistant quartermaster, and instructed me to provide transportation, forage, etc., for the expedition. I found that there were only about seventy government wagons at Fort Laramie; that the commissary stores and forage required for the expedition, and required by the command under Col. Cole, would require in the neighborhood of 200 wagons to transport the same. I was compelled to press citizens’ outfits into the service.

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I pressed into the service forty wagons belonging to Ed. Creighton, which were under charge of Thomas Ashlop; captured Tom Pollock’s train of thirty wagons, and other trains too numerous to mention, until I had a train of 185 wagons. Our command left Fort Laramie on the 30th day of July, 1865, enroute for the Powder River. Our column was known as the “Powder River Indian expedition” and was composed of sixty-eight men belonging to Company E, Seventh Iowa Cavalry, under command of Capt. N. J. O’Brien, with First Lieut. John S. Brewer, Second Lieut. Eugene F. Ware; sixty men of Company E, Eleventh Ohio Volunteer Cavalry, under Capt. Marshall; seventy men of Company K, Eleventh Ohio Volunteer Cavalry, Capt. J. L. Humphreyville; fifty-seven men of Company E, Eleventh Ohio Volunteer Cavalry; sixty-one men of Company M, Second California Cavalry, commanded by Capt. Geo. Conrad; fourteen men, a detachment of the Second Missouri Artillery; fifteen men, a detachment of the signal corps of the United States Army, under command of Lieut. J. Willard Brown, assisted by Second Lieut. A. V. Richards; fifteen men on detachment service from the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry serving in the quartermaster’s department; seventy-five Pawnee scouts under command of Capt. Frank North, and seventy Winnebago and Omaha Indians under command of Capt. E. W. Nash; together with six companies of the Sixth Michigan Cavalry, numbering about 250 men, under command of Col. Kidd. The Michigan troops were intended as a garrison for the first military post established to be located at Powder River and were not properly a part of the left column on the Powder River Indian expedition.55 Not including the Michigan troops, we had, all told, 404 soldiers and 145 Indians together with about 195 teamsters and wagonmasters in the train, which

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was in the direct charge of Robert Wheeling, chief trainmaster. The general’s staff was limited to five officers: Capt. J. C. Laurant, A.A.G.; Capt. Sam Robbins, First Colorado Cavalry, chief engineer; myself as quartermaster; Capt. W. H. Tubbs, A.C.S., and Oscar Jewett, A.D.C. We arrived at the south bank of the Platte August 1, expecting to cross at the LaBonta crossing.56 The general and his guides and advance guards had arrived the night before, expecting from information furnished by his guides that he would find a good crossing here. Our guides, chief among whom were Maj. James Bridger, Nick Janisse, Jim Daugherty, Mitch Bouyer, John Resha [Richard], Antoine LaDue, and [James] Bordeaux, were supposed to be thoroughly posted on this country, especially the region so near Fort Laramie, where they had been hundreds of times; but the treacherous Platte was too much for them. The spring flood that had just passed had washed away the crossing, and after ten hours’ diligent searching not one of the cavalry could find a place to cross the river without swimming his horse and endangering his life. Coming up with the train, which had been delayed and did not reach camp until afternoon, I found the general thoroughly discouraged and more than disgusted with his guides. The river had been examined for four miles each way from LaBonta crossing, and not a place could be found where it would be possible to cross a train. The alternative was presented to march to Platte bridge, one hundred and thirty miles out of our regular course. Soon after packing the train I rode off by myself, on my government mule, up the river searching for an antelope. Without noticing the distance traveled, I was soon nearly five miles from camp, and out of sight of same, over a sharp bluff near the river. Just beyond this bluff I discovered a fresh buffalo trail leading down into

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the water, and across the river, on the opposite bank, could distinguish tracks that the buffalo had made coming out of the stream. Curious to know how they could cross so straight without swimming in the rapid current, I rode my mule into the river and crossed on a good solid bottom. Returning by the same route, I marked the location in my mind, rode back camp in time for supper. Soon after feasting on antelope steak that I had captured on my expedition, and having lit my pipe, I strolled up to Gen. Connor and asked if he proposed crossing the Platte at this point or if he intended to go round by the bridge. The general seemed put out by my question, which, under the circumstances, he considered aggravating, and answered me rather roughly that we would have to go round by the bridge. I told him if it was the train that bothered him about crossing, I would guarantee to have it on the opposite bank of the river by daybreak the next morning. The general’s reply was, “Very well, sir; have it there.” After 9 p.m. when all was still in camp, I detailed a gang of teamsters, about forty men with picks and shovels, and marched them up the river to the buffalo trail and set them to work making a road. It being a moon light night, the work was easily prosecuted, and by break of day on the morrow the lead team of 185 wagons stood, leaders in the river waiting the command to march. As soon as it was light enough to distinguish the opposite shore, I rode in ahead of the leaders and gave the command forward. There was no break or halt until the train was parked opposite the general’s camp all before sunrise. In fact, the entire train was parked, the mules turned loose to graze, and the men preparing their breakfast, when the sentinels on the opposite bank of the river discovered the train beyond the Platte and gave the alarm to the general, who rushed out of his tent in his stocking feet to see what

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he did not believe was true. He immediately ordered “boots and saddles” to be sounded, and in a short time the entire command was with us. After breakfast our column moved on, passing over a country perfectly destitute of grass and timber, and scarcely any water, only one or two places between the Platte and Powder River. We found water by sinking iron-bound casks and empty cracker boxes in the apparently dry sand beds of the main streams and tributaries of the south, middle, and north forks of the Cheyenne River, not a drop of water visible in the main branch.57 Our route followed a Lodge Pole trail over a very barren, rough country, along ridges, tip and down ravines, where wagons had never passed. On the 2d and 3d, made thirty-three miles, following up the north bank of the Platte, nothing of interest transpiring worthy of record. 4th opened with a cold, drizzling rain. Broke camp at 6 a.m. Weather soon cleared off. Found roads hilly; in fact no roads at all, an absolutely untracked country. No wagons had ever been near our line of march. Captain Brown, with two California companies, were ordered to push on, following the Platte, while we struck off to the right.58 They were to come by way of Platte Bridge to the south slope of the Big Horn Mountains into the Wind River valley, and thoroughly reconnoitre that region of the country, and to rejoin us within twenty or twenty-five days near the Crazy Woman’s Fork of the Powder River, which stream they were to follow down until they intercepted our command. The Omaha or Winnebago scouts were under command of Captain Nash, seventy men, accompanied them. Flanking parties were reinforced on our line of march today, the Pawnee scouts composing same; also a party of scouts two or three miles ahead of the command. Every

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precaution was taken to guard against surprises. Parties were sent ahead for Indian signs, the guides reporting several strong indications of war parties having traveled the country ahead of us. Our course after leaving the Platte was in a northwesterly direction. Our guides advised us that in the future our camps will be at springs and that we will undoubtedly suffer from thirst before we reach the Powder River. Our camp was in some hills, where we found some stagnant pools; grass very poor; roads very rough; almost impossible to get the trains through, having traveled, as before stated, in a country where no wagons ever passed before. We only traversed ten miles of country and reached camp at half past one p.m. Teams were doubled up nearly every hill; no wood at this camp. 5th. Moved from camp at sunrise, traveled over several little ranges of mountains and made camp at Brown’s Springs at ten o’clock a.m. Grass and water excellent. Stock looking well so far, no accidents having happened since we started, of a serious nature. General very vigilant and careful about being surprised; he superintends every movement himself and is very sanguine that our expedition will be successful. Distance traveled today, eight and one-half miles. 6th. Left Brown’s Springs at six o’clock a.m., Sunday; everything moves off in the usual manner; course today is nearly north. Saw Pumpkin Buttes at one o’clock p.m., which the guides say is thirty miles from Powder River.59 Some careless soldiers fired the grass near our camp last night. The fire getting beyond our control, serves as a beacon light to the hostiles and gives great uneasiness to our guides, who fear that the Indians will be signaled thereby and may congregate in large numbers, too large for our little command. At the starting of this fire the flames ran across camp toward two powder wagons. Volunteers

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from the General’s headquarters camp, together with some soldiers, rushed through the fire to the powder wagons and dragged them to a place of safety; in doing so, had to pass over burning grass. Today, Sunday, our left flankers killed three buffalo. Made camp on the Dry Fork of the Cheyenne at ten o’clock a.m. Grass and water plenty. No water visible, but any quantity of it within a few feet of the surface in the sandy bed of the river. Empty cracker boxes were sunk in the sand; sand scooped out, and soon water could be dipped up by the bucketful, enough to water all the stock and to supply the camp. The last of the train did not reach camp until dark; distance marched only twelve miles. 7th. Broke camp at the usual hour; roads very heavy today; distance traveled eighteen miles. The trains did not arrive in camp until after midnight. Our camp was at some springs in a cozy little valley, where we found plenty of grass and enough wood to cook our buffalo meat. Five buffalo killed and brought in today; any quantity of buffalo and antelope in sight on both flanks. Teams gave out today, many of the mules refusing to pull. The 8th was spent in recuperating the stock; not a wheel was turned today. August 9 we obtained our first view of the Big Horn Mountains, at a distance of eighty-five miles northwest, and it was indeed magnificent. The sun so shone as to fill with full blaze upon the southern and southwestern sides of Cloud Peak, which is about ten thousand feet above sea level, and the whole snow-covered range so clearly blended with the sky as to leave it in doubt whether all was not a mass of bright cloud.60 Although the day was exceedingly warm, as soon as we struck this ridge we felt the cooling breezes from the snow-clad mountains, which was most gratefully appreciated by man and beast. In front, and a

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little to the northeast, could be seen the four columns of the Pumpkin Buttes, and fifty miles further east, Bear Butte, and beyond, a faint outline of the Black Hills. The atmosphere was so wonderfully clear and bright that one could imagine that he could see the eagles on the crags of Pumpkin Buttes, full forty miles away. August 11. Broke camp at the usual hour, traveled down Dry Creek, passed two or three mud holes, where the stock was watered. After eight miles marching got to a spot where we could see the long looked for Powder River; saw columns of smoke down the river, indicating an Indian village a few miles away. It proved to be a fire which the hostile Indians had made a day or two before. The Powder River is at this point a very rapid stream, water muddy like the Missouri, timber very plenty, ranging back from the river from one-half to one mile; grass not very good, no chance to cut any hay anywhere on the river. Train reached camp at two o’clock and camped in the timber on the river bank. In the evening the general, some members of his staff, and the guides, with an escort, went down the river to see if there were any signs of Indians. Found a “good Indian” very lately sewed up in a buffalo hide and hung up in a tree, many such sights along the Powder River. The country traversed by the general was similar to the camp ground. August 12. Train remained in camp. An exploring expedition was sent up the river under the command of Lieut. Jewett with orders to proceed twenty miles to look for a better location for a military post. Twenty-five of the Sixth Michigan Cavalry went up the river with Lieut. Jewett to the crossing of the old traders’ road from the Platte bridge to the Big Horn Mountains, and past the same, known as the Bozeman Trail, made in 1864 by J. M. Bozeman,

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of Montana.61 Lieut. Jewett found bottoms on both sides of the river banks heavily timbered flanked by high bold bluffs, with Indian signs all along the stream scarcely a mile where there had not been Indian villages; some within a few weeks, some that were probably made years and years ago; some very large camps gave evidence that the Indians had very large droves of horses, as the trees were badly girdled. Numerous Indian burial trees were found, with lots of “good Indians” tied up in them. Several bands of buffalo were seen during the day, Lieut. Jewett returned to camp the same day, having made a fifty mile march. August 14. The first timber was cut today for building a stockade, the general having decided to erect a fort [Connor/ Reno] on the opposite bank of the river at this point, on a large mesa rising about one-hundred feet above the level of the river, and extending back as level as a floor, about five miles to the bluffs. A very fine location for a fort, the only disadvantage being scarcity of hay land. Our stockade timber was cut twelve feet long and was from eight to ten inches in thickness. These posts were set four feet deep in the ground in a trench. Every soldier and all the teamsters who could be urged to work were supplied with axes and the men seemed to enjoy the exercise, chopping trees and cutting stockade timber. August 16. Command still in camp waiting for a train of supplies from Fort Laramie before we proceed. Indian scouts discovered a war party today, and the soldiers gave them a running fight, Capt. North’s Pawnees in the advance with only a few staff officers who were smart enough to get to the front with the Pawnees.62 Capt. North followed the Indians about twelve miles without their being aware of our pursuit; then the fun began in earnest. Our war party outnumbered the enemy, and the Pawnees, desirous

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of getting even with their old enemy, the Sioux, rode like mad devils, dropping their blankets behind them, and all useless paraphernalia, rushed into the fight half naked, whooping and yelling, shooting, howling, such a sight I never saw before. Some twenty-four scalps were taken, some twenty horses captured, and quite an amount of other plunder, such as saddles, fancy horse trappings, and Indian fixtures generally. The Pawnees were on horseback twenty-four hours and did not leave the trail until they overtook the enemy. There was a squaw with the party; she was killed and scalped with the rest. On their return to camp they exhibited the most savage signs of delight, and if they felt fatigued did not show it; rode with the bloody scalps tied to the ends of sticks, whooping and yelling like so many devils. In the evening they had a war dance instead of retiring to rest, although they had been up more than thirty hours. The war dance was the most savage scene I had ever witnessed. They formed a circle and dance around a fire, holding up the bloody scalps, brandishing their hatchets and exhibiting the spoils of the fight. They were perfectly frantic with this, their first grand victory over their hereditary foe. During the war dance they kept howling, “Hoo yah, hoo yah, hoo yah,” accompanying their voices with music (if such it could be called) made by beating upon an instrument somewhat resembling a drum. No one who has never witnessed a genuine Indian war dance could form any conception as to its hideousness, the infernal hoo yahs, and the din of the tom tom. These howling devils kept up the dance, first much to our amusement, until long after midnight, when finally the general, becoming thoroughly disgusted, insisted upon the officer of the day stopping the noise. After considerable

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talk, Capt. North, their commander, succeeded in quieting them, and the camp laid down to rest; but this war dance was kept up every night until the next fight, limited, however, to ten o’clock p.m. August 19. Several of the staff officers, myself included, went on a buffalo hunt in the afternoon. We killed several buffalo; one of the scouts reported having seen a large body of Sioux Indians. Capt. North started with his company in pursuit, killed one Indian chief, and captured six head of horses. Col. Kidd went out in another direction with twenty-five men and reported over five hundred to one thousand Indians. Capt. O’Brien and Lieut. Jewett with fifteen men went ten or twelve miles down the river and camped until three o’clock on the morning of the 20th, then struck across the country towards camp, but saw no Indians. Capt. Marshall with forty men of the Eleventh Ohio went in pursuit of another band of Indians; killed two Indians and captured eleven head of stock. All of these scouting parties returned to camp, some on the 19th, some not until the 20th. August 22. Broke camp at sunrise; started from Powder River going north, leaving part of the train at the fort; also all the Sixth Michigan Cavalry. Traveled twenty-three and one half miles and made camp on Crazy Woman’s Fork of the Powder River, so named because of the fact that some fifteen years before, a poor demented squaw lived near the bank of the river in a “wickup” and finally died there. The water of this stream is not so good as that of the Powder River, more strongly impregnated with alkali; grass not very good; sage brush abundant; some timber on the stream. Saw some signs of Indians, but none very recent. August 23. Left Crazy Woman’s Fork at six o’clock a.m.; traveled 15 north five miles; came to a dry creek; passed

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several of the same kind during the day; did not find any running water; stock suffered some for want of same. The country is rolling, still seems more compact and gives us a much better road than we had on the south side of the Powder River. The Big Horn Mountains lying right to our front seem to be within rifle range, so very near that we could see the buffalo feeding on the foot hills, the pine trees, the rocks, and crags appear very distinct, though several miles away. Fourteen miles from Crazy Woman’s Fork we struck the Bozeman wagon trail made in 1864. Made camp at three o’clock; grass splendid; plenty of water, clear and pure as crystal and almost as cold as ice.63 The stream was full of trout and the boys had a glorious time in the afternoon bathing in the ice-water and fishing for trout with hooks made of willows. Several bands of buffalo had been feeding close to camp and about five o’clock p.m. about twenty-five cavalrymen rode out and surrounded a band and drove them into a corral formed of our wagons, and there fifteen were slaughtered and turned over to the commissary department. The general and a few of his staff officers, myself included, went up the stream to a high mesa some three miles above camp and got a beautiful view of the country and the surrounding hills, when we ran upon a monstrous grizzly, who took shelter in a little plum patch covering about an acre of ground. One of our party, trainmaster Wheeling, with more daring than the rest of us cared to exhibit, rode up to within a few rods of the patch; the bear would rush out at him, when he would turn his mule so quickly that the bear could not catch him, the bear close to his heels snapping and growling, at the same time receiving the fire of our Sharpe’s rifles. After receiving same, Mr. Grizzly would retire and again Wheeling would draw him out of

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the plum patch, and again we would pour cold lead into his carcass. The fight was intensely interesting. When we downed grizzly we found we had perforated his hide with twenty-three balls. The animal was one of the largest of its species; according to the very best estimate it weighed about 1,800 pounds. From this point on to Montana, in fact all along the whole base of the Rocky Mountains to the British possessions, the country is perfectly charming, the hills are all covered with a fine growth of grass and in every valley there is either a rushing stream or some quiet babbling brook of pure, clear snow water, filled with trout, the banks lined with trees, wild cherry, quaking asp, some birch, willow, and cottonwood. No country in America is more picturesque than the eastern slope of the Big Horn Mountains. August 25. Broke camp at the usual hour; pushed on north, passing along the base of the Big Horn Mountains. Crossed several streams, one of which we named Coal Creek, because of the fact that near the center of the stream lay a block of coal about twenty-four feet long, eight feet thick, and twelve feet wide, the water having washed through a vein of coal that cropped out at this point. We found coal here enough to supply our forges and to enable the blacksmith to do some needed repairs. Seven miles from Clear Fork we came to a very pretty lake, about two miles long and about three fourths of a mile wide, which Major Bridger told us was DeSmet Lake, named for Father DeSmet.64 The lake is strongly impregnated with alkali, in fact so strong that an egg or potato will not sink if thrown into the water; large red bluffs are to be seen on both sides, and underneath the lake is an immense coal vein. Not many miles from this lake is a flowing oil well. A scheme might be inaugurated to tunnel under this lake, pump the oil into the lake, set

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the tunnel on fire and boil the whole body of alkali water and oil into soap. We made our camp on the Piney Fork of the Powder River, about two or three miles below Fort McKinney, where there is now a flourishing city known as Buffalo, county seat of Johnson County, Wyoming.65 Just after we had gone into camp a large band of buffalo that had been aroused by our flankers came charging down the hill directly into our camp. Many of them turned aside, but several passed through among the wagons, much to the dismay of our animals, most of which were tied to the same, taking their evening meal of grain. One monstrous bull got tangled in the ropes of one of our tents and was killed while trampling it in the dust. August 26. Left Piney Fork at six o’clock a.m.; traveled north over a beautiful country until about 8 a.m., when our advance reached the top of the ridge dividing the waters of the Powder from those of the Tongue River. I was riding in the extreme advance in company with Major Bridger. We were two thousand yards, at least, ahead of the general and his staff; our Pawnee scouts were on either side and a little in advance; at that time there was no advance guard immediately in front. As the major and myself reached the top of the hill, we involuntarily halted our steeds; I raised my field glass to my eyes and took in the grandest view I had ever seen.66 I could see to the north end of the Big Horn range and, away beyond, the faint outline of the mountains beyond the Yellowstone. Away to the northeast the Wolf River range was distinctly visible; immediately before us lay the valley of Peno Creek, now called Prairie Dog Creek, and beyond the Tongue River valley and many other tributary streams. It was as pretty a picture as I had ever seen. The morning was clear and bright, not a breath of air stirring. The old major, sitting upon his horse with

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his eyes shaded with his hands, had been telling me for an hour or more about his Indian life, his forty years’ experience on the plains, telling me how to trail Indians and distinguish their tracks from those of different tribes, a subject that I had discussed with him nearly every day. In fact the major and myself were close friends. His family lived at Westport, Missouri. His daughter, Miss Jenny, had married a personal friend of mine, Lieut. Wiseman, and during the winter of 1863 I had contributed to help Mrs. Bridger and the rest of the family, all of which the major had been acquainted with, which induced him to treat me as an old time friend. As I lowered my glass the major said, “Do you see those ’ere columns of smoke over yonder?” I replied, “Where, Major?” to which he answered, “Over by that saddle,” meaning a depression in the hills not unlike the shape of a saddle, pointing at the same time to a point fully fifty miles away. I again raised my glass to my eyes and took a long, earnest look, and for the life of me could not see any columns of smoke even with a strong field glass. The major was looking with out any artificial help. The atmosphere appeared to be slightly hazy in the long distance, like smoke, but there were no distinct columns of smoke in sight. Yet, knowing the peculiarities of my frontier friend, I agreed with him that there were columns of smoke and suggested that we had better get off our animals and let them feed until the general came up. This we did, and as soon as the general with his staff arrived, I called his attention to Major Bridger’s discovery. The general raised his field glass and scanned the horizon closely, but after a long look he remarked that there were no columns of smoke to be seen. The major quietly mounted his horse and rode on. I asked the general to look again, that the major was very confident that he could see

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columns of smoke, which, of course, indicated an Indian village. The general made another examination and again asserted that there were no columns of smoke. However, to satisfy curiosity, and to give our guides no chance to claim that they had shown us an Indian village and we would not attack it, he suggested to Capt. Frank North, who was riding with the staff, that he go with seven of his Indians in the direction indicated, to reconnoiter, and to report to us on Peno Creek or Tongue River, down which we were to march. I galloped on and overtook the major, and as I came up to him, overheard him remark about “these dawn paper collar soldiers” telling him there were no columns of smoke. The old man was very indignant at our doubting his ability to outsee us, with the aid of field glasses even. The joke was too good to keep and I had to report it to the general. In fact, I don’t believe the major saw any columns of smoke, although it afterward transpired that there was an Indian village in the immediate locality designated. Bridger understood well enough that that was a favorite locality for Indians to camp and that at most any time there could be found a village there; hence his declaration that he saw columns of smoke. Our march down Peno Creek was uneventful, the road being very good, much better than we had before found. This stream takes its name from a French trapper by the name of Peno, who had been trapping for beaver. A band of buffalo close by tempted him to take a shot, which he did, slightly wounding a large bull. The bull took after him and Peno fled for his life. Just as he reached the steep bank of the creek some fifteen or twenty feet above the stream, Mr. Bull caromed on his rear and knocked Peno clear over the bank, head foremost into the creek, the bull tumbling in after him. Fortunately the fall was more disastrous to

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the bull than to the man, who was able to make his escape. Such is the story as told to me by Major Bridger. Our camp that night was in a valley of the Peno Creek, not far from Tongue River, sixteen miles from Big Piney. August 27 and 28. Traveled down Peno Creek and Tongue River; country near the river very barren, no grass. After camping, four of the Omaha scouts went out a short distance from the camp and met a grizzly bear, which they very imprudently fired upon. The grizzly closed upon them, killing one of the scouts and fearfully mangling two others before a relief party of the same company could drive away the bear. Just after sunset of this day two of the Pawnees who went out with Capt. North towards Bridger’s columns of smoke two days previous came into camp with the information that Capt. North had discovered an Indian village. The general immediately called me to his tent and instructed me to take command of the camp, keeping the wagons in the corral, protect the stock, and hold the position until he should return, that he was going out to fight the Indians. I had never been baptized with Indian blood, had never taken a scalp, and now to see the glorious opportunity pass was too much. So, with tears in my eyes, I begged of the general to allow Lieut. Brewer, of the Seventh Iowa Cavalry, who I knew had just reported to me as very sick, to remain with the train, and that I be allowed to accompany him in the glorious work of annihilating savages. The general granted my request. The men were hurried to eat their supper, just then being prepared, and at eight o’clock p.m. we left camp with two hundred and fifty white men and eighty Indian scouts as the full attacking force. From our calculation as to the distance, we expected to strike the village at daylight on the morning of the 29th. Our line of march lay up the valley of the

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Tongue River, and after we had passed the point where our wagons had struck the stream we found no road, but much underbrush and fallen timber, and as the night was quite dark, our march was very greatly impeded, so that at daylight we were not within many miles of the Indian village. The general was very much disappointed at this delay, which compelled us to keep closely under cover, and in many instances to walk along by the water’s edge, under the river bank, in single file, to keep out of sight of the Indians. I had worked myself to the extreme advance, and like, possibly, many others in the command, had begun to think that there was no Indian village near us and that we would have no Indians to fight. Arriving at this conclusion, I had become somewhat reckless and had determined that Capt. North, who had joined our command soon after we left camp, should not reach the village in advance of myself. As we rode along close together conversing, I managed to forge in ahead of him just as we dropped down into a deep ravine. The bank on the side just beyond the stream was much higher than the bank from which we came, and the trail led up this steep bank. As I rode up the bank and came to the top, my eyes beheld a sight as unexpected to me as a peep into Sheol.67 Just before me lay a large mesa or table, containing five or six hundred acres of land, all covered with Indian ponies, except a portion about onehalf mile to the left, which was thickly dotted with Indian tepees full of Indians.68 Without a moment’s hesitation, I grasped the bit of my horse with my right hand and his nostrils with my left, to prevent him from whinneying, threw myself from the saddle, dragging the horse down the bank against Capt. North’s horse, and whispered to him that we had found the village. Capt. North held my horse while I ran back, motioning the men to keep still. In

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fact, the general had issued orders when we left camp that no man should speak above a whisper, and that when the horses attempted to whinney they should be jerked up with a tight rein. During the last one-half hour of our march several men had become somewhat careless and were not as cautious as they had been during the night. I soon met the general, who was close to the advance, and told him of my discovery. The word was passed back for the men to close up and to follow the general, and not to fire a shot until he fired in advance. Gen. Connor then took the lead, rode his horse up the steep bank of the ravine, and dashed out across the mesa as if there were no Indians just to the left; every man followed as closely as possible. At the first sight of the general, the ponies covering the table land in front of us set up a tremendous whinneying and galloped down toward the Indian village, more than a thousand dogs commenced barking, and more than seven hundred Indians made the hills ring with their fearful yelling. It appeared that the Indians were in the act of breaking camp. The ponies, more than three thousand, had been gathered in, and most of the warriors had secured their horses; probably half of the squaws and children were mounted, and some had taken up the line of march up the stream for a new camp. They were Arapahoes, under Black Bear and old David, with several other chiefs not so prominent. The general watched the movements of his men until he saw the last men emerge from the ravine, when he wheeled on the left into line. The whole line then fired a volley from their carbines into the village without halting their horses, and the bugle sounded the charge. Without the sound of the bugle there would have been no halt by the men in that column; not a man but what realized that to charge into the village without a moment’s hesitation was our only salva-

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tion. We already saw that we were greatly outnumbered and that only desperate fighting would save our scalps. I felt for a moment that my place was with the train; that really I was a consummate fool for urging the general to allow me to accompany him. I was reminded that I had lost no Indians, and that scalping Indians was unmanly, besides being brutal, and for my part I did not want any dirty scalps; yet I had no time to halt; I could not do it, my horse carried me forward almost against my will, and in those few moments, less than it takes to tell the story, I was in the village in the midst of a hand to hand fight with warriors and their squaws, for many of the female portion of this band did as brave fighting as their savage lords. Unfortunately for the women and children, our men had no time to direct their aim; bullets from both sides and murderous arrows filled the air; squaws and children, as well as warriors, fell among the dead and wounded. The scene was indescribable. There was not much of the military in our movements, each man seemed an army by himself. Standing near the “sweat house” I emptied my revolver into the carcasses of three warriors. One of our men, a member of the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry, formerly one of John Morgan’s men, a fine looking soldier with as handsome a face as I ever saw on a man, grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me about that I might assist him in withdrawing an arrow from his mouth. The point of the arrow had passed through his open mouth and lodged in the root of his tongue. Having no surgeon with us a higher grade than a hospital steward, it was afterwards within a half hour decided that to get the arrow out from his mouth, the tongue must be, and was, cut out. The poor fellow returned to camp with us, and at this late date I am unable to say whether he lived or died. Another man,

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a sergeant in the signal corps, by the name of Charles M. Latham, was shot in the heel; he had been through the entire war in the Army of the Potomac and wore a medal for his bravery, had passed through many battles and had escaped unharmed. This shot in the heel caused his death; he died in a few days afterwards of lockjaw. The Indians made a brave stand trying to save their families and succeeded in getting away with a large majority of their women and children, leaving behind nearly all their plunder. They fled up a stream now called Wolf Creek, Gen. Connor in close pursuit. Soon after we left the village, Gen. Connor advised me to instruct Capt. North to take his Indians and get all the stock he could possibly gather. This was done, and with a few stragglers I followed a small band of Indians up the main Tongue River about three miles until they became strong enough to turn back upon us and force us back. Gen. Connor pursued the fleeing savages fully ten miles from camp, when he found himself accompanied by only fourteen men; our horses had all become so fatigued and worn out that it was impossible to keep up. The general halted his small squad and attempted to take the names of his brave comrades, when the Indians, noticing the paucity of his numbers, immediately turned upon him and made a desperate effort to surround him and his small squad of soldiers. They fell back as rapidly as possible, contesting every inch, reinforced every few moments by some stragglers who had endeavored to keep up. With this help they managed to return to camp, where Capt. North and myself had succeeded in corralling about eleven hundred head of ponies. One piece of artillery had become disabled. The axletree of the gun carriage, a mountain howitzer, was broken. We left the wheels and broken axle near the river and saved the cannon. The command rendezvoused in the

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village, and the men were set to work destroying Indian property. Scores of buffalo robes, blankets, and furs were heaped upon lodge poles, with tepee covers, and dried buffalo meat piled on top, and burned. On one of these piles we placed our dead and burned their bodies to keep the Indians from mutilating them. During our halt the Indians pressed close up to the camp and made several desperate attempts to recover their stock, when the mountain howitzer, under the skillful management of Nick O’Brien, prevented them from completing their aims. Our attack upon the village commenced at nine o’clock a.m. The rendezvous in the village was about 12:30. We remained there until 2:30. In the intervening time we destroyed an immense amount of Indian property, fully 250 Indian lodges and contents. At 2:30 we took up the line of march for the train. Capt. North, with his eighty Indians, undertook to drive the stock. They were soon far ahead, while the rest of the force were employed in beating back Indians. The Indians pressed us on every side, sometimes charging up within fifty feet of our rear guard. They seemed to have plenty of ammunition but did most of their fighting with arrows, although there were some of them armed with muskets, with which they could send lead in dangerous proximity to our men. Before dark we were reduced to forty men who had any ammunition, and these only a few rounds apiece. The Indians showed no signs of stopping the fight, but kept on pressing us, charging upon us, dashing away at the stock, keeping us constantly on the move until fifteen minutes of twelve o’clock, when the last shot was fired by our pursuers. At this time I had gone ahead to communicate some order from Gen. Connor to Capt. North relative to handling the stock. Having completed my work, I halted by the side of the trail and waited for

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the general who was with the rear guard. I remember, as I was getting from my horse, I heard the last shot fired some two or three miles in the rear. After I had dismounted, I realized that I was fearfully tired, so tired that I could not stand up. I sat upon the ground, and in a moment, in spite of myself, was in a sound sleep, and was only awakened by being dragged by my horse, which was an Indian pony that I had saddled from the captured stock. Nearly all our men had remounted themselves while we were rendezvousing in the Indian village; otherwise we would not have been able to keep out of the way of the pursuing Indians. My lariat was wrapped around my right arm, and with this the pony was dragging me across the prickly pears when I awakened. Realizing that I was on dangerous ground, I quickly mounted my pony and listened long for the least sound to indicate whether the general had come up or not. There was no noise, not a sound to be heard, the night was intensely dark and myself so bewildered that I scarcely knew which way to go. Again jumping from my horse, I felt with my hands until I found the trail and discovered that the footprints of the horses led in a certain direction; taking that as my course, I rode away as rapidly as possible and after three miles’ hard riding, overtook the general and his rear guard, who had passed me while I was asleep. All congratulated me on my narrow escape. We arrived at camp at daylight, after marching fully one hundred and ten miles without any rest or refreshments except the jerked buffalo that the boys had filled their pockets with in the Indian village. The incidents of this fight would make interesting reading. Many acts of personal bravery cannot be recorded. Suffice it to say that every man was a general. Not a command was given by the general after the first order to charge,

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not a man in the command but that realized that his life was in the balance. We must either whip the Indians and whip them badly, or be whipped ourselves. We could see that the Indians greatly outnumbered us; that our main dependence was our superior equipments; we were better armed than they. As for fighting qualities the savages proved themselves as brave as any of our men. The fight commenced at nine o’clock, was offensive until about 11 a.m., when the general was driven back into camp with his small squad of men; from that time until midnight we fought on the defensive. Yet we had accomplished a grand victory. Two hundred and fifty lodges had been burned with the entire winter supply of the Arapahoe band. The son of the principal chief (Black Bear) was killed, sixty-three warriors were slain, and about 1,100 head of ponies captured.69 While we were in the village destroying the plunder, most of our men were busy remounting. Our own tired stock was turned into the herd. The Indian ponies were lassoed and mounted; this maneuver afforded the boys no little fun, as in nearly every instance the rider was thrown or else badly shaken up by the bucking ponies. The ponies appeared to be as afraid of the white men as our horses were afraid of the Indians. If it had not been for Capt. North with his Indians, it would have been impossible for us to take away the captured stock, as they were constantly breaking away from us, trying to return towards the Indians, who were as constantly dashing toward the herd in the vain hope of recapturing their stock. Many exciting scenes were witnessed upon the field of battle. During the chase up Wolf Creek with the general, one of North’s braves picked up a little Indian boy that had been dropped by the wayside. The little fellow was crying, but when picked up by the soldier Indian, fought

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like a wild cat. One of our men asked the Indian what he was going to do with the papoose. He said: “Don know; kill him mebby.” He was told to put him down and not to injure the bright little fellow. The Indian obeyed, and at least one papoose owed his life to the kind hearted soldier. Several of our men were wounded; some of them quite severely. Three or four of them afterwards died of their wounds. Two of our soldiers, white men, I forget their names, were found among the dead, and three or four of North’s Indians were killed. Lieut. Oscar Jewett, the general’s aide-de-camp, the general’s bugler and orderly were among the wounded. Lieut. Jewett was shot through the thigh and through the hand, and yet was compelled to ride over forty miles after receiving his wounds. We were absent from camp thirty-three hours; had marched, as before stated, one hundred and ten miles; during that time had had nothing to eat, except a few hard tack and some jerked buffalo meat. If there is a better record to the credit of the volunteer cavalry soldier I am not aware of the fact. We brought back to camp with us eight squaws and thirteen Indian children, who were turned loose a day or two afterward. August 30 and 31. We marched twenty-two miles down Tongue River. September 1, early in the morning, a cannon shot was heard. No two persons could agree in what direction the sound came from, but as this was the day fixed for the general rendezvous of Cole and Connor’s command near the mouth of the Rosebuds, some eighty miles away, it was supposed that the sound came from that direction. Gen. Connor directed that Capt. North, with about twenty of his Indians, and Capt. Marshall, with about thirty men of the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry, push on rapidly

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to the rendezvous to communicate with Cole. Marched fifteen miles September 1. September 2. Did not leave camp until one o’clock p.m.; marched down the river eight miles; valley has narrowed up very much; the country appears rough and irregular. Last night several “medicine wolves” were heard to howl about camp. Ever since we left Fort Laramie our camp has been surrounded with thousands of wolves that made the night hideous with their infernal howlings, but not until tonight have we heard the “medicine wolf,” which old Bridger claims to be a supernatural sort of an animal, whose howling is sure to bring trouble to camp. Bridger, Nick Janisse, and Rulo, being very superstitious, were so frightened by this peculiar howling that they took up their blankets and struck out for a new camp, which, according to their theory, was the only way of escaping from the impending danger. They went down the river about half a mile and camped in the timber by themselves. September 3. Has been cold, dreary day, raining most of the time, some snow. The weather very disagreeable for a mounted man who had to march sixteen miles in snow and rain. September 4. Weather not quite so cold as yesterday, not so disagreeable; country very rough, scarcely any grass, not a spear was seen for miles on the march. Passed down Tongue River; was compelled to cross the stream dozens of times. A messenger from Col. Sawyer’s train of emigrants came into camp tonight with the news that his train had been attacked by the Indians, supposed to be the same ones that we had fought; that Capt. Cole, of the Sixth Michigan, and two of his men, were killed; that the train was parked and the men doing their best to defend themselves. From him we learned that Col. Sawyer, with about

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twenty-five wagons and one hundred men were en route from Sioux City to Bozeman, by way of the Big Horn or “Bozeman route”; that they had passed over the country by way of the Niobrara, north fork of Cheyenne, between Pumpkin and Bear Buttes, intersecting our trail near Fort Connor;70 that Col. Kidd, whom we had left in command at Fort Connor, had sent Capt. Cole with twenty men as an additional escort for the train, to help them through the Arapahoe country. Capt. Brown, with two companies of California troops, was hastily detached from our command and marched west about forty miles to relieve the train. When they reached the train they found that the Indians had given up the attack, and on the next day the train pushed on, Capt. Brown accompanying them. Our command continued their march fifteen miles down the river. September 5. Lay in camp all day waiting for some word from Capt. Marshall. The general is very anxious to get some news from the column under the command of Col. Cole. Capt. Marshall’s guide returned from the Rosebuds tonight with no news from Cole’s command. Capt. Marshall reached camp with his men soon after, having been to the rendezvous and finding no evidence of our supporting column there. September 6. The command about-faced today and marched back up the river fifteen miles to find better grass for the stock.71 A scouting party under Capt. North having returned from the month of the Tongue River on the Yellowstone and reported no grass and no sign of Cole’s command. September 7. Marched up the river fourteen miles; found grass and camped. September 8. Capt. Frank North, with twenty of the Pawnee scouts, left for the Powder River this morning.

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Capt. Humphreyville and a part of his company were ordered to the Rosebuds; small scouting parties were sent in every direction to obtain, if possible, some news of Cole’s command. No signs of Indians; weather very cold and disagreeable. September 9. Still raining and snowing; roads are frightfully muddy, almost impossible to move the train; has been raining and snowing for three days. September 10. Stopped raining this morning; several mules and horses have died from the effects of the storm. No news from the other column. The Tongue River has risen about two feet, and we find it impossible to cross. September 11. Moved camp one mile up the river to better grass. Capt. Humphreyville returned from the Rosebuds today, reporting no signs of Cole’s command. Capt. North also returned from Powder River and reports that he found between five and six hundred dead cavalry horses, undoubtedly belonging to Cole’s command; most of them were found shot at the picket line. From that it appears that Cole has been hard pressed by the Indians and has been compelled to dismount his men and to shoot his horses, the Indians giving them no chance to forage. A large number of saddles and other property had been burned. His trail was well marked and shows that he has pushed on up the river in an opposite direction from the course which he had been ordered to take. This startling news shows conclusively that we are nearing the end of our expedition, which we fear must end disastrously. As acting commissary of subsistence, as well as quartermaster, I realized that Cole’s command must be out of provisions; that they had provisions until only about the 3d or 4th of September, when they were supposed to meet our train; that by this time, September 11, they must be either out

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of provisions, or that they had been living on half rations for some time previous. The situation was indeed a critical one. Here a superior force had been attacked by the Indians at a point only seven miles east of us, and had been driven from their line of march to take another route, and had been so hard pressed by the savages that they were compelled to shoot their horses to save them from falling into the hands of the enemy, and to enable the men to do better fighting on foot.72 Our fighting force was only about 400 men, counting sixty men with Capt. Brown, who was then 100 miles away; theirs 1,600, four times our number. What would be our fate should these Indians turn from the pursuit of Cole, and cross over from the Powder River to Tongue River, and concentrate with the Arapahoes in an attack upon us! We knew, or at least Capt. North and his Indians knew, that the Indians who were pressing Cole were the Sioux and Cheyennes, and that they numbered thousands; according to the very best estimate, 5,000 or 6,000 Indians. Nearly all the men realized that they must be prepared to do some very good fighting; that our only chance of escape from the country depended upon cautious movements as well as good luck. Early in the morning of September 12 we took up our line of march for Fort Connor. By doubling teams, as many as thirty span of mules hitched to several wagons, we managed to drag our loads across the river and by hard work made twenty miles today. Ran across two very large herds of elk that had been driven into the timber by the storm. This morning early Gen. Connor dispatched one white man, whose name I have forgotten (it ought to have been preserved, as he was a hero), a member of the Seventh Iowa Cavalry who volunteered to go with five Pawnee Indians, at the risk of his life, and supplies for his men, a fact known

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to Col. Cole.73 This move was an important one, and the scouts were instructed to travel only by night, and to run the gauntlet at all hazards, otherwise Cole and his men might perish within close proximity to the fort where there was an abundance of supplies, food, and ammunition. This party made the trip safely; traveling only by night, they managed to reach Cole’s camp and to communicate with him, which to his starving troops was glorious news, that if they pushed on rapidly they would find plenty to eat. September 13. Continued our march up the river eight and one-half miles, when the teams were so badly played out that we could march no further. September 14. Marched thirteen and one-half miles. Another detachment of scouts, Pawnee Indians under command of Capt. North, also Capt. Marshall, with a small squad of the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry, were started for Powder River this evening, with instructions to fight their way through to Cole’s command. The general is risking our entire force for the salvation of Cole’s men. If our force should be attacked now, it would be short work for the Indians to massacre the entire party. September 15th and 16th were spent in recuperating our stock, as we found the mules too weak to pull the wagons. September 17. Marched up the river fourteen miles and camped. About three o’clock today while the train was crossing the river, experiencing a great deal of trouble. I struggled on ahead of the command to the advance guard and beyond. I had my Sharpe’s rifle with me and thought I would push on a little farther and see if I could not shoot an elk. Crossing over a little divide, I found that to reach the next point of timber, I had a bottom of about two miles in width to cross. Not seeing any Indians or signs of Indians, I very recklessly gave my fast walking mule the rein and

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continued on. Soon after reaching the timber I concluded I was getting too far ahead of my command, led my mule a short distance off the road, tied him to a sapling, took my gun and set myself on a log, when suddenly I heard the clank of horses’ hoofs on the rocks just ahead of me. Glancing in that direction I saw just before me a party of Indians, sprang to my feet and raised my rifle, as they pulled their reins, having noticed me; just at that moment the face of a white man appeared behind the Indians, and they threw up their hands to show that they were friendly. The white man, who proved to be Lieut. Jones, of the Second Missouri artillery, rode up. He was from Cole’s command and had been sent by Cole with the five Indians to communicate with Gen. Connor the safe arrival of our scouts, and that he would push on to Fort Connor. Jones had left Cole’s command in the opposite direction from the Indians; had gone around them; discovered our trail near Big Piney, and followed down Peno Creek to Tongue River to the point where we met. I was so rejoiced at hearing from Cole’s command that I could scarcely keep back the tears, and when I rode back to the train the news made the men wild with joy; Cole’s command had been found. Lieut. Jones reported that soon after passing to the right of the Black Hills they were attacked by the Sioux who had continued to fight them from that time until they had reached Tongue River. By that time their stock had become so worn out for want of feed that they were compelled to shoot their horses and burn up a large supply of saddles, stores, and accoutrements, and to turn from their course towards the Wolf Mountains to the Rosebuds, the country before them being so rough that they could not drag their wagons after their command. Col. Cole, being so early surrounded by the Indians, made up his mind that Gen. Connor must have been massacred, and that if he ever

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reached the Rosebuds, he would be in more danger than he was; that his only chance for escape now would be in retreating up Powder River, making his way, if possible, to Fort Laramie. Several of his men had been wounded by the Indians, and for several days the men had to subsist on mule meat, being absolutely out of provisions. September 18 and 19, we continued our march up the river, camping on the 19th on Peno Creek, three miles above our old camp. Large bands of elk passed the command today and several of them were stopped by our bullets. September 20, continued our march up Peno Creek sixteen miles. September 21. The command marched twenty-one miles today. Just before we left camp this morning I prevailed upon the general to allow Lieut. Jewett, Capt. Laurant, and myself with three men to ride two or three miles to the right of the command, to the front of the right flankers, to give us an opportunity to kill some elk; the country seemed full of them. The general made us promise that we would keep together, and being well armed we might fight off the Indians if they should attack us, and make our way back to the train. We extended our ride some two or three miles to the right of the line of march and out of sight of the train in the foot hills of the mountains. About eight o’clock we ran across a large band of buffalo, and as we were out upon a hunt, dashed among them to see how many we could kill. I took after a fine bull, one of the best in the herd, who with a small band of buffalo struck up a ravine. It was short work to down the fellow and cut out his tongue as a trophy and to remount, when I discovered that there was not one member of the party in sight; I was entirely alone. I rode up on a hill expecting to see the party a short distance away, but saw nothing

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except here and there buffalo all on the gallop, and here and there an antelope. Thinking I was pretty close to the men, I pushed on in my regular course south, parallel to the train, dropping a little to the left, expecting soon to come in sight of the wagons. After riding about half a mile and reaching the top of a little ridge, I discovered, just before me, an antelope so very close that I could not resist the temptation to chance a shot. Jumping from my pony, which, by the way, was a wild Indian pony captured out of the herd a day or two before, I threw the lariat over my arm, raised the gun and fired. The pony gave a jump and dragged the rope through my hand, blistering the same very badly, and escaped. He galloped off in an opposite direction from which I was going. My first impulse was to fire on the pony; turning, I saw that I had shot the antelope and that he was getting onto his feet again. As he was so close by, I dropped my gun on the ground, pulled my revolver, ran up towards the antelope and fired as I ran. The antelope gained his feet and started down the slope. I had fired the last shot from my revolver and had no time to reload, and as I had wounded the antelope, continued the pursuit. For nearly half a mile I followed the antelope in a very winding course until, finally, he fell to the ground in his death struggles. I cut his throat and took the saddle, the two hind quarters. Started back to the hill to get my gun; found I was on the wrong hill. Was compelled finally to return to the carcass of the antelope and retrace my steps to where I fired at the antelope, tracking my way by the blood. This work delayed me fully an hour, but I was rewarded by finding the gun. Then, as I was so far behind the train (it was now ten o’clock), I concluded it to be dangerous to attempt to follow it, and as I was afoot, my only salvation was in keeping at least four miles to the right of the train, away

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from the Indians who would probably follow the train, and to make camp in the nighttime. I hung on to the saddle of antelope and with my gun took up the tramp. After walking two or three miles I came to a ridge overlooking a little valley, and in the valley saw a horse, which upon closer inspection I determined to be my own horse, which had by a roundabout course struck the valley ahead of me. The animal was feeding by himself, not another animal in sight. I resolved at once to make an effort to recapture the horse. Slipping down to the creek, I deposited my gun and antelope meat in the limb of a dead cottonwood and commenced crawling through the grass, which was very high and fine, towards the horse. After more than an hour’s work, slowly dragging myself along, I just managed to get hold of the end of the rope, but not with sufficient grip to hold the startled pony who again escaped me. This only aggravated me and made me resolve that I would have the pony or die trying. One, two, and more than three hours passed before I could again get hold of the rope; and finally it was about four o’clock p.m. when I managed to capture the pony. I had worked up the valley three or four miles above where I had left the antelope meat and my gun, but after mounting my pony it was a short ride back to these articles, and after lunching I took up my line of march for the camp; and without further incident of importance reached the camp at daylight next morning, having gone fifteen miles out of my way to avoid the possible chance of running upon the Indians. The other members of the party had joined the camp about three o’clock in the afternoon, and after nine o’clock that night nearly every man in the camp had given me up for dead. September 22. Capt. Marshall and a detachment of his company came from Fort Connor with a letter to Gen.

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Connor with the news that he had been relieved of the command of the District of the Plains; that Col. Cole with his two regiments of Missouri troops and the 16th Kansas Cavalry had reached Fort Connor in a very destitute condition, half of the men barefoot, and that for fifteen days they had had no rations at all and had subsisted entirely upon what little game they could get close to camp, and on mule meat; and that they had been obliged to burn a large portion of their train together with camp equipage. September 23. Camped on Crazy Woman’s Fork, and on September 24th reached Fort Connor, having traveled twenty-five miles today. The general and staff reached the fort about 11 a.m.; train got in just before sundown. Cole’s command looked as if they had been half starved and are very ragged and dirty; the men resemble tramps more than they do soldiers. They have had but little suffering since they left the Platte River and are as completely disgusted and discouraged an outfit of men as I ever saw. They reported having fought the Indians six days on the Powder River and claim they killed three or four hundred of them. This day’s march ends the story of the Powder River Indian expedition. Gen. Connor will return with a small escort of men, leaving the command of the expedition to Col. Cole, who will make his way back to the states by slow marches. Gen. Frank Wheaton has been assigned to the command of the District of the Plains and we expect to meet him at Fort Laramie.74 I persuaded Gen. Connor to allow me to take back to Fort Laramie the captured stock, that he might have credit therefore. On the 26th of September the general pushed out for Laramie with three ambulances, Capt. North with his Indians driving the stock. The general remained at Fort

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Laramie until October 4, when I received receipts from Capt. Childs for six hundred and ten head of horses; all that had been saved out of the eleven hundred head captured from the Indians. Horses had escaped from us every day on the march, and during the storm on Tongue River several had perished. On our march up Tongue River at least three or four hundred made their escape, at one time a band of more than forty in one drove. In the four days’ layover at Laramie I had completed my reports to the quartermaster and commissary departments, receiving the general’s approval on all my papers, and his thanks for services rendered, and was enabled to accept an invitation to a seat in the ambulance and rode with him to Denver, where we had been invited by the citizens to a reception in honor of Gen. Connor. We left Fort Laramie with an escort of twenty men who accompanied us as far as Fort Collins; from that point we pushed on to Denver without an escort, arriving there about the 15th of October. We were received with all the honors that could be bestowed, a grand feast was prepared for us at the Planters’ Hotel, and the best people of Denver, almost en masse, turned out to the reception. The next day we were escorted by more than thirty carriages, filled with prominent citizens, to Central City, forty miles away in the mountains, where we were again received and toasted in the most hospitable manner. I returned to Denver in time to leave on the first coach that had been started from Denver for three weeks. Capt. Sam Robbins and Capt. George F. Price (who had been chief of cavalry for the general, and whom he had left at Fort Laramie in charge of the office as adjutant of the district of the plains while we were on the expedition), together with B. M. Hughes, attorney general of Ben Holliday’s overland mail line, and two Pacific Railroad exploring engineers, with Johnny Shoemaker as messenger, who had with him

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$250,000 in treasure, were fellow passengers.75 We left Denver at 10 a.m. October 19, met with no incidents of an exciting nature until we reached Larry Ray’s ranch about daylight the second day out. Just as we were driving up to the station, we heard the roar of musketry and the infernal yells of the Indians who had attacked a train camped close to the station. The chief wagonmaster, Wells of Fort Lupton, was killed in the attack.76 I had just climbed out of the coach to a seat with the driver. Johnnie Shoemaker was in the boot asleep and every one in the coach was asleep, except the driver and myself. I had remarked to the driver that it was daylight and asked him how far it was to the station; he said it was close by, a mile or two ahead. Just then we heard the firing, the driver whipped his six mules into a run, and away we went pell mell for the station, expecting momentarily the arrows and leaden messengers of death. Fortunately for us the Indians were on the opposite side of the station and before we had reached the same had been driven away by the teamsters and wagon men. At O’Fallon’s Bluff, near Baker’s ranch, we were again attacked by the Indians and ran into the station, where we defended ourselves until morning. Next day pushed on with the coach with all the passengers on foot as an advance guard and flankers. Fortunately for us two companies of a West Virginia cavalry regiment were on the march up the Platte and happened to meet us in the worst part of the hills. Their presence had driven away the Indians and we were enabled to drive through the bluffs in safety. This is the last incident worthy of record of the Powder River Indian expedition. As a summary of general results, I can only say that, even with the disastrous ending of Cole’s expedition, the

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military campaigns and army life

Powder River Indian expedition of 1865 was not a failure. The general’s plans to “carry the war into Egypt” succeeded admirably; the warrior element by the movement of these columns were compelled to fall back upon their village to protect their families, and during the progress of the campaign the overland line of travel became as safe as before the Indian outbreak. It was not until Gen. Connor retraced his steps by order of the war department back to Laramie, with all the soldiers, that the Indians, thinking he had voluntarily retired from their front, again hastened to the road, passing Gen. Connor’s retreating column to the east of his line of march, and again commenced their devilish work of pillage, plunder, and massacre. Gen. Connor’s ability, sagacity, and courage, and best of all, his success as an Indian fighter, remains unchallenged in all the western country. His early schooling in Indian wars especially fitted him to become, as he was, the “big medicine man” of their hereditary foe. Gen. Patrick Edward Connor first enlisted in the regular army November 29, 1839; was discharged November 29, 1844; was commissioned colonel of the Third California Infantry Volunteers September 29, 1861; fought the famous Bear River fight (263 dead Indians to tell the tale) January 29, 1863; was promoted brigadier general March 29, 1863; fought the battle of Tongue River August 29, 1865; promoted brevet major general for gallant and meritorious conduct March 29, 1866. This grand old warrior was a captain of volunteers in the Mexican War, was three times severely wounded, and is drawing a pension for his disability. He was stationed at Council Bluffs, a member of the Fourth Dragoons, in 1840, forty-seven years ago.

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chapter three

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Overland Freighting on the Plains

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Early freighters faced countless challenges as they crossed the Plains. A major concern was the fear of attacks by the Native Americans. In reality cases of mistaken identity by co-workers proved to be more dangerous.

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Along the Overland Trail in Nebraska in 1852 gilbert l. cole On the 16th of March, 1852, I started with several others from Monroe, Mich., on the overland trail to California.1 Nothing of interest occurred during our travel through the states, except the general very bad roads, causing us to make poor progress. Crossing the Mississippi at Warsaw, Ill., we kept along the northern tier of counties in Missouri, which was heavily timbered and sparsely settled. Bearing southwest we arrived at St. Joseph, Mo., on the first day of May. The town was a collection of one-story, cheap, wooden buildings, located along the river and up Rattlesnake Hollow. The inhabitants appeared to be chiefly French and half breed Indians. The principal business was in selling outfits to the immigrants, trading in horses, mules, and cattle. The level part below the town was the camp of the immigration. There was one steam ferryboat, which had several days crossing ahead of us registered. So the next day we started and drove up to Savannah. After laying in some more supplies we drove to the Missouri River at what was called Savannah Landing. There we crossed over on a hand ferry, and for the first time we pressed the soil of the then unsettled plains of the Great West. Working our way through the heavily timbered bottom, we camped under the bluffs, wet and weary.

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overland freighting on the plains

Here we rested over Sunday, when we completed our company organization. The weather cleared up, and Monday morning at sunrise we started on a trail that led up the hollow and on to the “great plains” of Kansas and Nebraska. The day was warm and the sun shone bright and clear. To me, as well as the others, it was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Not a tree or any obstacle could be seen before us; only this great rolling sea of the brightest green. This, then, was the land that we were told in later years, was the “Great American Desert.” We have often heard it expressed from the rostrum and pulpit, inviting us to look about and see what was a half century ago a “barren, sandy desert,” and they said it was so represented by the early immigrants to California. True, one spoke of the deserts in Nebraska, but they are now in Nevada, for we stepped out of Nebraska into California, on the summit of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Having lived here twenty-one years, I know the grass was then as good as it has been any year since. The first Indians we saw were at Wolf Creek, where they had made a bridge of logs and brush and charged us fifty cents a wagon to pass over it. We paid it and drove on, coming now to the vicinity of the Big Blue River at a point about where Barneston, Gage County, is now located. Our company, as organized, consisted of twenty-four men and one woman, the wife of W. W. Wadsworth, our captain. We had eight wagons and forty-seven head of horses and mules. Four men were detailed each night to stand guard, two till one o’clock, when they were relieved by two others, who came in at daylight. As a couple of horsemen were riding in advance we came suddenly to the Big Blue River, where on the opposite bank, stood a party of thirty or forty Indians. We fell back, and when the train came up a detail was made of eight men to drive the teams, and the other

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overland freighting on the plains

sixteen were to wade the river, rifle in hand, to see what the Indians were going to do. Being one of the skirmish line, I remember how clear and blue the water was, and as to depth, it came into our vest pockets. We walked up to the Indians and said “How?” and had some presents of copper cents and tobacco to offer them. We soon saw that they were merely looking to see us ford the stream. They were Pawnees, were gaily dressed, and armed with bows and arrows. We passed several pipes among them, and the train was signaled and all came through the ford without any trouble, the water coming up four to six inches in the wagon beds. After the train was out in the open prairie again, we bade the Indians goodbye, and were all glad we got off so easily. At noon we moved off the trail, turned out the animals, and all hands proceeded to dismount the wagons and spread their contents out on the grass to dry, as everything next to the bottom of the wagon beds was soaked with water. I forgot to say that in making preparations to ford the river, as a precaution of safety, the captain had placed his wife down in the bottom of their wagon bed and piled sacks of flour around her as protection in case of a fight and of course in passing the ford she was necessarily drawn through the water in a very alarming and uncomfortable manner. But she was one of the bravest of women, and in this instance, as in many others of danger and fatigue before we reached our journey’s end, she always displayed such courage and good temper as to win the admiration of all the company. We now moved on, I think, in the direction of Diller and Endicott, where we joined the main line of immigration coming through from St. Joe, and crossing the Big Blue where Marysville, Kan., is located. We were soon coming up the Little Blue, passing up on the east side and about

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overland freighting on the plains

one mile this side of Fairbury. Our trail lay along the uplands through the day, where we could see the long line of covered wagons sometimes two or three abreast, drawing itself in its windings like a great white snake across this great sea of rolling green. This line could be seen many miles to the front and rear, so far that the major portion of it seemed to the observer to be motionless. We now came to a stream called the Big Sandy (I believe it is in the vicinity of Fillmore County) about 9:00 a.m., when we were alarmed by the unearthly whoops and yells of a hundred or more Indians (Pawnees), all mounted and riding up and down across the trail on the open upland opposite us at about a good rifle-shot distance. Our company were the only people there, and a courier was immediately sent back for reinforcements. We hastily put our camp in position of defense (as we had been drilled) by placing our wagons in a circle with our stock and ourselves on the inside. The Indians constantly kept up their yells and rode up and down, brandishing their arms at us, and we thought that every minute they would make a break for us. We soon had recruits mounted and well armed coming up, when our captain assumed command and all were assigned to their positions. This was kept up until about one o’clock, when we decided that our numbers would warrant us in making a forward movement. As a preliminary, skirmishers were ordered forward down towards the creek through some timber and thick underbrush, I being ordered with them. My partner and myself, on coming to the creek, first discovered an empty whisky barrel, and going a little further in the brush we saw two tents. Coming carefully up to them, we heard groans as of some one in great pain. Peeping through a hole in the tent, we saw two white men who, we learned on entering the tent, were badly wounded

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overland freighting on the plains

by knife and bullet. From them we learned the following facts, which were the cause of all our fear and trouble that morning. They said the night before two large trains had camped there, and as these men were keeping the “post” they of course had whisky to sell. These campers got on a drunk, quarreled, and had a general fight. As a result these men were badly wounded. On the trail, over where the Indians were, some immigrants were camped, and a guard was placed at the roadside. When the shooting and row were going on down at the “post,” an Indian, hearing the noise, had come along the trail when he was halted by the guard, and not answering, the guard fired and killed him on the spot. These people immediately hitched up and moved on. The Indians who confronted us, coming there found the dead Indian lying in the road, which roused their anger and kept us on the ragged edge for several hours. The Indians all rode off as we began to approach them, and as the trail was now clear, our train moved out ahead of the rest, traveling all night and keeping out all the mounted men as front and rear guards. We now came to the “last leaving of the Little Blue” and passed over the open upland, without wood or water, thirty-three miles to Fort Kearny, in the Platte valley. ’Twas nearly night and in a drizzling rain when we came to the line of the reservation, where a trooper sitting on his horse informed us that we would have to keep off or go on through the reservation, a distance of three or four miles. It was dark and raining, and we camped right there without any supper or fire to cook anything. We hitched up early in the morning and drove into the fort, where we were very kindly treated by the commanding officer, whose name, I think, was McArthur.2 He tendered us a large room and tables, with pen, ink, paper, and envelopes, where we

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overland freighting on the plains

wrote the first letters back from Nebraska, which I believe were all received at home with much joy. The greater part of the troops were absent on a scout. After buying a few things that we had forgotten to bring with us and getting rested, we moved on our journey again, going up on the south side of the Platte River. One of our comrades, Robert Nelson, belonging to the captain’s wagon, was now very sick with something like cholera, and on May 27, about sixty miles above Fort Kearny, he died. We sewed his remains up in his blanket and buried him within a few rods of the river at sunrise the next day. Nearly all the company knew him well, and his death and burial were to all of us very sad indeed. We now came to the “south fork of the Platte River,” immediately where it flows into the main river. We had long dreaded this crossing, owing to the treacherous quicksands of its bottom. Here the guard succeeded in killing our first buffalo. About nine o’clock in the morning, all things being in readiness, two men were sent in to wade across the river with long willows to stick in the sand to mark out the route through. Two or three wagons could be seen where they had settled down in the quicksand, because of stopping in the stream, and were never able to get out. With these evidences before us of the risks we were to run, we started in. Every man but the drivers walked, or rather waded, alongside the horses to render assistance if it should be required. Following the route marked by the willows, with scarcely a word spoken, we drove clear through and out on dry land without a halt or break. To say that we all felt happy to know that the crossing was behind us did not half express our feelings. One man dug out a demijohn of brandy from his traps and treated all

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overland freighting on the plains

hands, remarking that the “success of that undertaking really merited something extraordinary.” A few days after this an incident occurred in camp that bordered on the tragic, but finally ended in good feeling. My guardmate, named Charley Stewart, and myself were the two youngest in the company, and being guards together we were great friends. He was a native of Cincinnati, well educated, and had a fund of recitations and stories that he used to get off when we were on guard together. This night we were camped on the side of some little hills near some ravines. The moon was shining, but there were dark clouds passing over, so at times it would be quite dark. It was near midnight, and we would be relieved in an hour. We had been the “grand rounds” among the stock and came to the nearest wagon, which was facing the animals, which were picketed out on the slope. Stewart was armed with a “Colt’s navy,” and I had a double barreled shotgun loaded with buckshot. I was sitting on the doubletree on the right side of the tongue, which was propped up with the neck yoke. Stewart sat on the tongue about an arm’s length in front of me, I holding my gun between my knees with the butt on the ground. Stewart was getting off one of his stories and was about to come to the climax when I saw something running low to the ground in among the stock. Thinking it was an Indian on all fours to stampede the animals I instantly leveled my gun, and as I was following it to an opening in the herd, my gun came in contact with Stewart’s face at the moment of its discharge. Stewart fell backward over the wagon tongue, his legs and feet hanging over. My first thought was that I had killed him. He recovered in a moment and commenced cursing and calling me vile names, accusing me of attempting to murder him, etc. During these moments, in his frenzy, he was trying to get his revolver out from under him, swearing he would kill

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overland freighting on the plains

me in a minute. Taking in the situation, I dropped my gun, jumped over the wagon tongue, as he was now getting on his feet, and seized him in what proved to be a desperate fight for that revolver. We were both sometimes struggling on the ground; then again on our knees, he striking me repeatedly in the face and elsewhere, still accusing me of trying to murder him and I, having no chance to explain things, the struggle went on. Finally I threw him down and held him until he was too much exhausted to continue the fight any longer, and having got the revolver from him, I helped him to his feet. In trying to pacify him I led him out to where the object ran that I had fired at, where near by lay the dead body of a large wolf with several buckshot through his hide. Stewart was speechless looking at the wolf and then at me; he quickly realized his mistake and repeatedly begged my pardon. We agreed never to mention the affair to any of the company. Taking the wolf by the ears, we dragged it back to the wagon, where I picked up my gun and gave Stewart his revolver. I have often thought what would have been the consequence of that shot had I not killed the wolf? Along in this vicinity the bluff comes down to the edge of the river, and consequently we had to take to the hills, which were mostly deep sand, making heavy hauling. This trail brought us into Ash Hollow, a few miles up from its mouth. Coming down to where it opened out on the Platte bottom, about noon, we turned out for lunch. Here was a party of Sioux Indians, camped in tents of buffalo skins. They were friendly, as all that tribe was that summer. This is the place where General Kearny, several years after, had a terrific fight with the same tribe, who were then on the warpath all along this section.3

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overland freighting on the plains

Some weeks before, the forewheel of my wagon had been badly damaged, and I had been on the lookout for another wheel for the spokes in order to make the necessary repairs. Taking my rifle after lunch, I started out and crossed the bottom, when within a few rods of the river and about a half a mile off the road, which turned close along the bluff, I came upon an old broken down wagon almost hidden in the grass. Taking the measure of the spokes, I found, to my great joy, they were just the right size and length. Looking around I saw the train moving on at a good pace almost three-quarters of a mile away. I was delayed some time in trying to get the wheel off the axletree. Succeeding at last, I fired my gun toward the train, but no one looked around, all evidently supposing that I was on ahead. It was an awfully hot afternoon, and I was getting warmed up myself. I reloaded my rifle, looked at the receding train, and I made up my mind to have that wheel if it took the balance of the day to get it into camp. I started by rolling it by hand, then by dragging it behind me; then I ran my rifle through the hub and got it up on my shoulder, when I moved on at a good pace. The sun shining hot soon began to melt the tar in the hub, which began running down my back, both on the inside and outside of my clothes, as well as down along my rifle. I got out to the road very tired and stopped to rest, hoping that a wagon would come along to help me out, but not one came in sight that afternoon. In short, I rolled, dragged, and carried that wheel, my neck, shoulders, and back daubed over with tar, until the train turned out to camp, when I, being missed, was discovered way back in the road. When relief came to me I was nearly tired out with my exertions and want of water to drink. Some of the men set to work taking the broken wheel apart and fitting the spokes, getting the wheel ready to set the

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tire. Others had collected a couple of gunnysacks full of the only fuel of the Platte valley, viz., “buffalo chips,” and they soon had the job completed. The boys nearly wore themselves out, laughing and jeering at me, saying they were sorry they had no feathers to go with the tar, etc., calling me a variety of choice pet names. We had now passed those peculiar formations known as Scott’s Bluff, Courthouse Rock, and Chimney Rock. The latter, a few miles to the left of the road, had the outline of an inverted funnel, the base being quite steep to climb. From its center arose a column resembling a chimney, about 50 feet square to perhaps 100 or more high. Its top sloped off like the roof of a shanty, having a crack or split down from the top about one-quarter of its length. These formations were not really rock but of a hard marl substance, the different colored strata showing alike in them all, and could be easily cut with a knife. They had the appearance of having been left in the washing away of the adjoining land in the course of time. As we are now approaching the west line of the state, it is now proper that this sketch should be brought to a close. But before doing so I wish to again impress the fact of the beauty of this great “rolling sea of green.” No place on earth had nature ever presented a more beautiful landscape, so pleasing to the eye, so clear its streams and skies, as this land yet untouched by the white man’s civilization. This scene was only equaled by a panoramic view from a high point or bluff of the great Platte valley. Seeing for miles up and down the broad valley, the beautiful river with its low banks dotted with its numerous islands of all sizes, each covered with its green willows, made a pleasing contrast with the light grayish color of its waters. Added to this was the long line of covered wagons of the emigrants, together

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with many groups of campers. From our view on the bluff to our rear could be seen herds of buffalo that were grazing on the level plain, with now and then a bunch of antelope galloping about. The wolf, coyote, and prairie dog were to be seen at almost any time. Having thus seen Nebraska as Nature presented it to our charmed vision, when I now look over our state, seeing its improvements, its high class of civilization, I can scarcely believe that such a change has been made.

James Green was one of several authors who contributed manuscripts to the Nebraska State Historical Society and then seemingly disappeared. No biographical data could be found.

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Freighting on the Plains james green In the spring of 1860 I went with my parents to Pike’s Peak where I resided until January 1862, when my brother, S. S. Green, now of Schuyler, Nebraska, and I, each with an ox team, started to Omaha after freight.4 From January to November 1862, we made three round trips, traveling 3,600 miles in eleven months by “oxomobile.” In the spring of 1863 my brother went to Montana. At this time I exchanged my cattle for a mule team and made one trip with it in the early summer. While in Omaha I became entangled in the famous trial of Judge Tabor for the murder of his friend, Isaac H. Neff, and I think I was the most important witness in the case. The accused was

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convicted and executed sometime in the fall of 1863. It was, I believe, the first legal execution in the territory.5 Being well pleased with the country around Shinn’s ferry, about seven miles west of the present city of Schuyler, I came back from Denver and squatted on a piece of land where the present station of Edholm now stands.6 On May 30, 1864, I was married to Miss Elizabeth Garrett, who lived with her parents in Saunders County, twenty miles east of my claim. Not long after this, some time in July, I got a hankering for the old Rockys again, so we loaded our traps in the wagon and started across the plains, expecting to make our future home somewhere along the foot of the mountains. At the time we started there was a faint rumor that the Indians were going to cause trouble, and on arriving at Fort Kearny, 125 miles west, the officers there were advising the emigrants to travel in large companies for self-protection; but, being perfectly familiar with the country and also with the Indians along the route, we proceeded as far as Cottonwood Springs, afterward Fort McPherson.7 On our arrival at this point the air was full of rumors of depredations farther west, and it was said that one man had been killed and his stock run off. After due consideration we concluded the best thing to do was to go back and wait a year, when perhaps the Indian troubles would be settled. So, early in the morning of August 6, we turned our oxen to the east and drove twelve miles to Gilman’s Ranch and went into camp on the bank of the river, half a mile beyond.8 The river here was full of little towheads and small channels, a few inches deep, trickling over the sand. When we had been in camp perhaps an hour and a half and I was sitting on the wagon tongue thinking of hooking up, suddenly and silently nine of the biggest, blackest war

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overland freighting on the plains

painted Indians I ever saw suddenly appeared out of the river, all riding good horses. They at once began to parley, some of them talking pretty good English, for a trade of ponies for my “squaw.” While my wife sat on the wagon in plain sight of them, they raised their bids from one to four ponies for her. All at once the whole party struck out for the bluffs on the full run, which for the moment was a puzzle for me. But the mystery was soon solved. Looking down the road I saw, within a mile, a troop of cavalry on the march from Fort Kearny to Cottonwood Springs. The purpose of the detachment was to establish an outpost near where the trouble was expected. I don’t think we would have been disturbed by these Indians at that time only in a badgering way; and my reason for this belief will be given farther on. From this camp we drove on a day and a half and then camped at what was called the deserted ranch, which was situated on a dry gulch where some one had started a ranch and gave it up before completion. Soon after our encampment a mule train, consisting of ten four-mule teams, came from the east and went into camp on the north side of the road about one hundred yards from us. This was August 7, 1864. This train, of which I shall speak again further on, belonged to Frank Morton, of Sidney, Iowa. Early in the next morning we broke camp and made what was called a “breakfast drive,” a very common thing in those days. We drove to the twenty-one-mile point and went into camp about ten o’clock for our breakfast. We had been there but a short time when the east-bound stagecoach passed us at double-quick, and the driver shouted that we had better get out of there as there were ten or twelve dead men lying in the road a little way above. I could hardly believe that there was anything unusual, so I drove four miles to the

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seventeen-mile point, seventeen miles from Kearny. While there in camp, about ten o’clock, a troop of cavalry came up from the fort on double-quick. The captain halted and asked where I camped last night, and when I told him at the old soddy he asked if I saw any Indians. I told him I did not. “Well,” he said, “it’s damn strange, for just where you say you camped last night it was reported that ten or twelve people were killed and one woman taken prisoner and their mules run off and wagons burned.”9 And now, my friends, comes that part of my story that if there is such a thing as providence interfering or assisting any one it certainly showed its full hand in our case from the time we turned around at Cottonwood Springs until we passed on and escaped the Plum Creek massacre. For it is a fact that the people killed in that raid were the same that we camped so near the night before; and the fact that we made an early drive that morning was the only reason that we escaped. Again, when I tell you that Mrs. Morton, who accompanied her husband on this trip, was an old schoolmate and chum of my wife, and the further fact that they failed to recognize each other in our respective camps, must be another act credited to providence. The people slain consisted of Frank Morton, owner of the outfit, ten men, drivers, and a colored cook. Mrs. Morton was taken prisoner and I believe remained with these Indians for about five months when she was rescued through some friendly Indians, carried to Denver, and was finally restored to her friends. Another remarkable escape occurred at this time. About four miles east of our camp was a new ranch owned by a German called “Dutch Smith.” As we passed the Smith place on our drive that morning he was seated in a buggy at the door, and his wife was pleading with him to go along

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to Kearny; but he seemed to be quite anxious for her to remain home. However, she prevailed, for within half a mile they passed us on the road to Kearny, and the Indians that committed the murders at the Morton camp followed down the road as far as Smith’s place, killed his hired man, ran off his stock, and burned his buildings. Whether these different escapes all just happened or whether the hand of providence was guiding us are things that to me are not comprehensible. In referring back to the episode at Gilman’s ranch with the nine Indians, I have come to the conclusion that they would not have harmed us at that time; for I consider it a premeditated attack. There were depredations committed all along the line for a distance of two hundred miles, and thus this little squad would not have dared to start the scrap before the time arrived. On our arrival at the old home and starting point we concluded that Nebraska was good enough for us, and we have rounded out a full half century within her confines. We have two sons, thirteen grandchildren and five greatgrandchildren, all born in Nebraska and all living in the state to-day, without a death in the family for forty-six years. It is marvelous to stop for a moment to consider what has taken place in this great America of ours in half a century. Every mile of railroad west of Minneapolis, Fort Des Moines, and St. Joseph has been constructed since I settled in the territory. Fort Des Moines, Iowa, was the nearest to a railroad at the time of my settling in Butler County.

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Deforest Rolfe was born in 1830 in eastern New York State. He lived briefly in Iowa and St. Louis before coming to Nebraska Territory. He was a grocer and then a banker. He returned to the grocery business with E. W. Terry in 1875. Over the years Rolfe acquired large land holdings.10

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Overland Freighting from Nebraska City deforest p. rolfe In September 1860, the writer sold his profitable interest in business located on Fourth Street in the city of St. Louis, having decided to make a second flight from New York towards the setting sun, Nebraska City having been the place selected for his resting place.11 He purchased a good stock of groceries and outfitting goods, suitable for the wants of the plains trade, and shipped them, by steamboat, for Nebraska City, 714 miles up the Missouri River front St. Louis, paying freight at the rate of $2.25 per hundred pounds. He landed here on the 15th of October, 1860. Having a store room already prepared, located in Kearny (now a part of Nebraska City), he was soon in shape to supply the wants of the overland business with such supplies as were needed for making the long trip to Denver, Salt Lake, and military posts. Nebraska City at that time was considered the most favorable point on the Missouri River for the transportation of freight to the far western points. It was the headquarters for the great company of Russell, Majors & Waddell, who freighted nearly all the government supplies destined to military posts from the Missouri River to Salt Lake.12

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Nearly all other than government freight was carried by freighting firms and individual parties.

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The Great Fire On the 12th of May, 1860, previous to my arrival, there occurred a disastrous fire in Nebraska City, destroying nearly all the business part of the town north from Table Creek, the only business firms left being Hawke & Nuckolls, between 3d and 4th on Main Street, and Robert Heffley, on the corner of 9th and Main. During the years of 1860 and ’61 the greater part of the business of the city was done in Kearny, between North Table Creek and the levee, but after that time, as the city rebuilt its burned district, the business gradually moved back to its old quarters and then extended farther west.13 The business of the “wild and woolly” little town (called city) on the extreme borders of civilization depended for its support almost entirely upon the transportation of freight westward. It was then considered the only business that would build up our town and add value to its near vicinity, as it was the general opinion that the country a few miles west from the Missouri River border was valueless for agricultural purposes. With that idea nearly every business man was ready to do all in his power to advance the interests of Nebraska City as a freighting point. The Old California Trail Previous to the year of 1861 all western freight followed the old California trail, running northwest from Nebraska City, striking the Platte River thirty miles from its mouth, then following up the Platte, running north, making a big

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overland freighting on the plains

bend around what is now the counties of Saunders, Butler, and Polk. A few of the business men of Nebraska City decided it would advance the business of our city if the old route could be shortened between Nebraska City and Fort Kearny. With that object in view, they met and agreed that, if possible, the route should be shortened. William E. Hill was chosen as the one who should go over the country and locate the route on as nearly a direct east and west line as possible from Nebraska City to Fort Kearny.14 An outfit was made ready, and Mr. Hill started on his exploring expedition. Upon his return he reported that a good route had been found running nearly due west to the Blue, crossing Salt Creek near Saltillo, a point about eight miles south of Lincoln; from there running a little north of west to the Blue River, crossing that stream near the mouth of the West Blue, and running on the high grounds on the north side through the southern part of what is now Seward, York, Hamilton, and Hall counties, striking the Platte River forty miles east from Fort Kearny, making a saving in distance of forty miles over the old trail, and a shortening of time for ox trains of over two days. After giving the report due consideration it was decided the road should be opened, each one present pledging himself to stand a just proportion of the cost. The Road Opened The new route was opened by building a strong, substantial bridge over Salt Creek and Blue River, and plowing a furrow the whole distance from Salt Creek to the Platte River that the first ones over the route might follow, a route free from sand, over which a team could haul its load the whole distance without help.

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overland freighting on the plains

The route soon became the favorite, the old trail being abandoned by all starting from Nebraska City.

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Wagons Used The freight wagons used were the Murphy and Espenshied, made in St. Louis, and the Studebaker, made at South Bend, Ind. These wagons were constructed especially for the plains transportation business; made of the best timber, widetracked, strong and tight, high double box, and heavy tired, and covered with heavy canvas over the bows. More of the Murphy make were used than either the Studebaker or Espenshied, though many claimed the Studebaker the easiest running. Seven thousand pounds was the load drawn by five yoke of good cattle; six yoke if cattle were light. A good team consisted of one yoke of heavy, well-broken cattle for wheelers, a good second best came next; two pair in the swing could be made up from partly broken cattle, with a good pair of leaders. The Texas steer made, when broken, the best leaders, holding his head high, with his long horns and soft, wild eyes, like those of a deer, quick on his feet, quarters light and tapering, limbs clean cut, could run like a horse and quite as fast when alarmed. The Train A full train consisted of twenty-six wagons; twenty-five freight and one mess, in charge of a wagonmaster and assistant, who generally used mules for their riding; then there were with every train three or four plains ponies for herding and extra riding. Sixteen to eighteen miles a day was made in two drives, one from early morning to about eleven o’clock a.m., and the second from about one o’clock

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overland freighting on the plains

to six o’clock p.m. Sometimes the drives would vary in making water and grass. In making camp at the order of the wagonmaster, the lead team would circle to the right, the team following to the left, advancing until they met; then the next two in the same order, bringing the fore wheel close up to the hind wheel of the wagon ahead, the balance of the train in the same order, making a semicircular corral with thirteen wagons on each wing, nearly closed at front, with an opening at rear of about twenty feet. The cattle were then turned loose, with the yokes on the ground where they stood. A mounted herder takes charge of the cattle, watering first and then to grass. The drivers, each one with a heavy pistol at his hip and gun, in charge of wagonmaster, divided in mess of six to eight; two with sacks start out for chips, another for water, another digs the fire trench, all do their part until the meal of bread, bacon, and coffee is ready to be served out, and each one provided with a tin plate, quart cup, knife, fork, and spoon. If camp is for the night, after supper preparations are made for an early breakfast; then would come the time for a good smoke, song, and story; then rolling up in their blankets to rest under the wagons until “Roll out! Roll out!” is called out at daybreak by the night herder. After an early breakfast the cattle are driven in the corral and at the command “Yoke up!” every driver starts in among the cattle with yoke on his left shoulder, oxbow in his right hand, and key in his mouth, looking for his off-wheeler. When found the yoke is fastened to him with one end resting on the ground until the near one, his mate, is found. When yoked together they are taken to the wagon and hitched in their place; then come the others in their order, only a short time being required until ready

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for the order from the wagonmaster “Pull out!” Then the bull-whacker is in his glory with his whip, the lash of which is twenty feet in length, large and heavy, tapering to a small point and tipped with a buckskin popper, hung to a handle eighteen inches in length, filling both hands in its grasp but small at the end; four or five swings over and around the head the lash is shot straight out with the report of a gun. With twenty-six of these whips swinging at the same time, the reports sound like the fire of a picket line of soldiers. A steer was seldom struck with these whips, unless a deadhead. When hit with full force blood would surely follow.

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Night Camp At the camp for the night the cattle were allowed to graze at will until well filled and inclined to lie down. Then the herder rides gently around them, driving them to a center and bunching them close as possible without crowding, riding slowly and quietly around them during the night, gently whistling and singing if the herd seemed restless, always guarding against a stampede, which sometimes happened. In every herd there are leaders, and when a stampede from any cause occurs, the whole herd spring to their feet at the same instant, the leaders dashing off with the whole herd following. Then comes the times for the herder to show his nerve and courage, when he knows that a gopher hole, a broken saddle girth, or a fall meant sudden death in his effort to reach the front at one side of the leaders, and with yells and pistol shots turn the front and get them running in a circle until their fright subsided. The herder generally succeeded, but not always. The writer remembers of one herd that stampeded during a bad storm, one-half being lost and a few found, days after, forty miles from the camp from which they started.

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overland freighting on the plains

Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved.

Incidents of the Route In the early spring of 1862 I purchased an outfit, any number of teams and wagons less than a full train was called an outfit, [and] loaded the wagons with my own merchandise for the Denver market. I was one of the first to pull out from Nebraska City that season. On the route, a few miles west from Fort Kearny, we struck a vast herd of buffalo that was making for the Platte for water. They were in such numbers that we made camp, thinking it best not to drive through them, These wild cattle were a part of the yearly drift from north to south down the Platte crossing the country from that point to the Republican River, it being the nearest point between the two rivers. The next day, while in camp, a small war party of Sioux Indians, in their war paint, stopped with us for dinner. They were on their way to join a large force for a fight with the Pawnees. The Sioux from their earliest history were enemies of the Pawnees on the south and to the Utes on the west. On our return trip we met a few of this same party on foot, on their return from their conflict, having lost several of their warriors and a number of ponies, but they proudly showed two Pawnee scalps they had taken. We made Denver in twenty-eight days, from Nebraska City, which was quick time for cattle. At that time Denver was a little city of tents and cheaply built wood buildings on the business street. I think there was but one brick building, that a warehouse belonging to the freighting firm of Russell, Majors & Waddell. I closed out my goods, realizing a good profit. The third day after my arrival, having received something over $10,000 in Cherry Creek gold dust, soldered up in two-pound oyster cans,

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overland freighting on the plains

rolled up in my blankets and strapped securely at the back of my saddle, I mounted my mule and started to overtake my teams. The second day out, when about fifty miles east from Denver, about two o’clock on a warm afternoon, I was jogging along on my mule, half asleep, when I was suddenly aroused by “Hi-yi-a-Hi-yi-a-He-yea-a-Hi-yi-Ho.” Looking up I saw a short distance away, coming over a swell on the trail, a war party of Indians mounted on fine plains ponies, armed with lance, bows, and arrows. They came on a charge, with lance at rest and with a quivering feather at the head of every lance. I was quickly surrounded by one hundred and fifty greased and painted wild beings, with not a thing on or about them that was not of native manufacture, adorned with many ornaments made from hammered silver. On seeing that wild charge approaching I was startled, but the Indians at that time were friendly, and I thought they meant me no harm. They were a war party of Ogallala Sioux on a raid against their old-time enemy, the Utes. During the interview the chief explained in sign language how they intended surprising the Utes by creeping on them like snakes and getting many scalps. Hanging to the horn of my saddle was a fine Colt’s navy revolver. The chief wished to see it. I drew it from the case and passed it to him. After giving it a close examination he passed it to one near him, and from him it went the circle of all on the inside. Many guttural sounds and motions were made while looking it over. Then it came back from hand to hand to the chief who gave it to me with signs of thanks. That same revolver was afterward captured by the Indians, and the man who carried it was killed. After entertaining me for half a[n] hour I liberally treated those near with tobacco, who received it with many “How

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Hows.” Then the chief gave a command by a flash from small round mirror, set in a frame with handle and hung to the wrist. In an instant they wheeled into line, starting off on a lope, striking into their wild war song “Ho-a-Hiyi-a-He-ye-a-Hi-yi-Ho.” I sat on my mule and gazed after them until they passed from my sight. The history of this same war party is, the Utes learned of their approach, ambushed them, fought and defeated them with great loss. It is said this was the last war party sent against the Utes by the Sioux, after having been longtime enemies.

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Transportation Rates The freighting business increased largely in volume every year from 1862 to 1866. According to a census taken for the year 1865, there were employed in the movement of goods, grain, and other stores, westward from Nebraska City: 7,365 wagons, 7,231 mules, 50,712 oxen, 8,385 men. Transporting 31,445,428 pounds of freight. The customary rate of cattle freight to any point where two trips could be made during the season was $1 per hundred pounds for each 1,400 miles; sometimes a little more or less, owing to circumstances. Winter rates to Denver were from ten to twelve cents per pound. Salt Lake freight was hauled almost entirely with cattle, as cattle, wagons, and the whole paraphernalia of the train had to be sold to the Mormons and California cattle dealers on arrival at destination. The established rate to Salt Lake was twenty-five cents per pound, although Russell, Majors & Waddell hauled the government freight in large quantities at about twenty cents per pound. Rates to other points were based upon the prices paid to Denver and Salt Lake.

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Table 1: Government rations per man per day Standard rations

Plains rations

1¼ lb. flour

2 lb. flour

¾ to 1 lb. bacon

1½ lb. bacon

1¼ oz. coffee

1¼ oz. coffee

2½ oz. sugar

2½ oz. sugar

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Rations The rations for men employed were based upon the government rations, but a little more liberal. To give a better idea of the rations furnished for train men, and the cost of the same, I copy a list of supplies furnished in June 1865, by our firm, Rolfe & Terry to Gill & Co. for a trip to Denver, with twenty-six wagons and twenty-eight men, for sixty days: At the opening of the freighting season of 1865 the monthly wages paid drivers were $70 to $75. The wagonmaster received $150 and his assistant $85 per month. At that time the price of labor and commodities was based, to a certain extent, upon the premium on gold coin. The gold quotations for the month of May of the above year were as follows: May 3, 1.41; May 15, 1.30; May 23, 1.32; May 24, 1.35; May 26, 1.36. For the better understanding of prices, and the general class of goods that was at that time considered necessary for the preservation of the health, spirits, and vigor of the body, for the men who were the pioneers of our present civilization, and to give some idea of the volume of trade at Nebraska City at that time, I copy an invoice sold by our firm, Rolfe & Terry, to the sutler at Fort Russell, May 21, 1865, as follows:15 The freighting period gave good opportunities to the few farmers at that time on the Iowa and Nebraska side of the

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Table 2: Rations for twenty-eight men for sixty days @

Amount

$5.00

$150.00

2,500 lbs. bacon, 20 sa.

.18

450.00

1 sa. 50¢ coffee, 125 lbs.

.38

48.00

Description 30 sacks flour, 98 lbs. each

.18

46.00

3.50

7.75

1 sa. dried apples, 103 lbs.

.15

15.45

10 lbs. soda

.20

2.00

6 boxes matches

.12½

2 sa. $1 sugar, 250 lbs. 1 sa. 75¢ beans, 2 bu.

4 boxes ground pepper

.25

1.00

24 qt. cans wagon grease

.50

12.00

.75

1.50

.75

1 lb. ground mustard 2 lbs. ox nails 1 ox shoeing hammer

1.25

1 ox shoeing rasp

2.00 2.50

1 ox shoeing pincers .03

3.50

20 lbs. soap

.15

3.00

Sheet and lariat rope, 31½ lbs.

.28

8.82

1 sack 50¢ salt, 100 lbs.

Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved.

.75 .35

1 lb. candles

3 10 gal. water kegs 1 keg $1.50 vinegar, 5 gal.

2.50

7.50

.60

4.50 $768.62

Total

Missouri River, and to many small traders with a single team of mules and wagon, to load with corn, oats, poultry, butter, eggs, and even dogs and cats for the western trade, generally realizing good profits on the venture. The writer in 1860 owned a white thoroughbred bulldog, one of the Dewey kind of fighters that after passing from his possession, got across the plains and exchanged owners at one time in Denver for five ounces of gold dust.

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Table 3: Prices of staple articles in pioneer days Description 1 barrel whisky, Anchor brand, 42½ gallons

@

Amount

$3.00

$127.50

2 one-half barrels whisky, Cabinet brand, 46 gal.

3.50

161.00

50 cases whisky, Anchor brand

9.50

475.00

5 cases Red Jacket bitters

10.00

50.00

5 cases Cabinet bitters

11.00

55.00

5 cases Drakes bitters

11.50

57.50

3 cases Charles gin

12.00

36.00

5 cases port wine

10.00

50.00

3 cases peach brandy

12.00

36.00 48.75

9.75

5 cases blackberry brandy

10.00

1 case honey brandy 2 baskets champagne wine, pints

22.00

44.00

2 baskets champagne wine, quarts

20.00

40.00

5,000 La Victoria cigars

30.00

150.00

5,000 Reverie cigars

47.50

237.50

3,000 El Conteste Londra cigars

70.00

210.00

1 6-10 M Opera cigars

85.00

136.00 95.00

1,000 El Comperio cigars Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved.

7.50

.25

3-10 M El Sol cigars 1 half chest Impl. tea, No. 212, 76-14, 62 lbs.

2.25

89.90

30 cases 2-lb. oysters

9.50

285.00

9.00

270.00

11.60

115.00

30 cases 2-lb. peaches 10 cases 2-lb. pineapples 4 cases 3-lb. chicken and turkey

17.00

68.00

8 cases 2-lb. strawberries

11.50

92.00

7.25

145.00

10 cases 2-lb. corn

10.00

100.00

10 cases 2-lb. peas

10.00

100.00

6.00

48.00

20 cases 2-lb. tomatoes

2 cases 2-lb. salmon, 8 doz. 2 cases 2-lb. lobsters, 4 doz. 5 cases 2-lb. blackberries

3.50

14.00

10.00

50.00

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@

Description

Amount $23.00

$11.50

2 cases 2-lb. cherries

10.00

1 case 2-lb. sauer kraut

10.50

1 case 2-lb. chow chow 2 cases 2-lb. peach marmalade, 4 doz. 8 cases 2-lb. brandy peaches 5 cases 3d peaches 1 keg 40¢ Indian brand chewing tobacco, 33 lbs.

36.00

9.00 9.50

76.00

11.00

55.00

1.35

44.95 18.00

1 doz. Gold Thread, 1-lb. cans chewing tobacco

10.00

1 doz. Gold Thread, 1-lb. cans chewing tobacco 3 sacks 60¢ almonds, 175 lbs.

.45

80.55

2 sacks 60¢ Brazil nuts, 180 lbs.

.25

46.20

.20

24.60

18.50

37.00

5 cases ½ gallon pickles

9.25

46.25

2 cases condensed milk, 8 doz.

4.30

34.40

1 case condensed coffee, 4 doz.

9.25

37.00

.75

75.00

2 cases powder, 1 lb.

27.00

54.00

2 cases powder, ½ lbs.

16.50

33.00

2 sacks 60¢ peanuts, 117 lbs. 2 boxes axes

1 case Game Cock fine tobacco, 100 lbs.

Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved.

41.95

.25

2 sacks 60¢ filberts, 163 lbs.

6 M G D gun caps

.50

3.00

10 M Ely E B caps

1.50

15.00 6.50

.13

2 bundles lead, 50 lbs.

32.50

1 gross Steamboat playing cards, No. 1

30.00

1 gross Steamboat playing cards, No. 2 4.37½

2 cases Club sauce, ½ pts.

8.75

2 cases Cumberland sauce, 1 pt.

7.00

14.00

2 cases pepper sauce

2.75

5.50

2 cases tomato catsup

2.75

5.50

.08

8.00

2 boxes tacks, 6, 8, 10 lb., 100 papers

1.50

6 glass decanters

9.00 2.25

1 doz. bar jiggers

continued

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@

Description

Amount

1 doz. bar glasses

$2.00

1 doz. ale glasses

2.00 2.75

1 doz. sweet oil 1 box castor oil, 2 doz.

2.00

2 boxes ground mustard, 4 doz.

1.10

4.40 3.00

1 box extract of lemon 1 box ground pepper, 2 doz.

1.40

2.80

1 box Cox’s ink 3 doz.

1.00

3.00

.35

28.00

4 boxes stick candy

5.00

20.00

2 gunnies dairy salt

6.00

12.00

.28

47.60

2 boxes assorted fancy candy, 40-40, 80 lbs.

2 coils ½ inch rope, 170 lbs.

.28

7.84

1.10

6.60

1 bl. 50¢ dried blackberries, 145-19, 126 lbs.

.48

60.94

1 sack 60¢ dried whortle berries, 95 lbs.

.40

38.60

2 sacks 60¢ dried peaches, 190 lbs.

.40

77.20

2 sacks 50¢ dried apples, 460 lbs.

.18

83.80

1 sack 60¢ Yante currants, 128 lbs.

.28

36.44

4 boxes 30¢ Palm soap, 240 lbs.

.12

30.00

4 boxes 30¢ German soap, 240 lbs.

.13

32.40

2 boxes 30¢ Star candles, 80 lbs.

.26

21.40

1 barrel Sugar House syrup, 44 gallons

1.25

55.00

1 barrel Golden syrup, 41 gallons

1.70

69.70

1 coil ¼ inch rope, 28 lbs. 6 boxes herring

Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved.

4.00

1 case sardines, ½’s 100 lbs. 6 boxes layer raisins 7 cheese, select, net 176 lbs. 1 butt Gold Leaf tobacco, 63 lbs. 2 butts Brady’s tobacco, 68-71, 139 lbs.

.48

48.00

6.50

39.00

.30

52.80

1.12½

70.88

.90

118.15

3 butts Diadem tobacco, 43-43-45, 131 lbs.

1.12½ 147.38

2 boxes Natural Leaf tobacco, 26-25, 51 lbs.

1.60

81.60

.85

32.30

2 caddies Peerless tobacco, 19-19, 38 lbs.

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@

Description 2 caddies Grape juice tobacco, 19-20, 39 lbs. 2 cans ½ gallon axle grease

Amount

.85

$33.15

7.25

14.50

.14

33.60

7.25

1 can 1 gallon axle grease 4 boxes soda, 60 lbs. each, 240 lbs.

12.00

1 case preserves

2.50

1 bundle large wrapping paper 2 bundles medium wrapping paper

4.00

2.00

1.50

1 bundle small wrapping paper 1 bale cotton twine, 11¾ lbs.

.85

9.99

4 10-lb. cans cream tartar, 40 lbs.

.35

14.00

6 cases sugar lemon

6.75

40.50

3 drums figs, 23 lbs.

.30

6.90

5.00

30.00

10.20

1 doz. demijohns 6 gallons Calhoun whisky 3 boxes maple sugar, 24-24-25, 73 lbs.

.26½

19.34

1 sack canvassed dried beef, 100 lbs.

.26½

26.50

3.50

2 doz. brooms

4.00

2 cases assorted jellies, 4 doz. Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved.

7.00 45.00

1 gross P. & M. yeast powders

16.00

1 gallon whisky

3.00

1 gallon rum

3.50

1 gallon brandy

3.50

1 gallon sherry wine

3.50

1 gallon port wine

3.75 3.50

1 gallon gin 5.00

10.00

2 doz. straight stem pipes

1.50

3.00

3 doz. rosewood pipes

2.25

6.75

2 cases lemon syrup

1 doz. rosewood pipes

4.00

1 doz. briar pipes

5.00 5.50

1 doz. earthen pipes 13.00

½ doz. Anti-nicotianin pipes

6.50 continued

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Amount

@

Description

$4.00

$2.00

2 doz. cherry stems

2.50

1 doz. cherry stems

7.00

1 box No. 1 8x10 glass

18.13

5 boxes 35¢ crackers, 241-59, 182 lbs.

.09

5 boxes 35¢ crackers, 239-58, 181 lbs.

.09

18.04

4 sacks Rio coffee, 162, 163, 163, 164, 656 lbs.

.31

203.36

.17½

2 sacks 60¢ A sugar, 304 lbs.

54.40 28.50

3 cases brandy peaches

9.50

15 sacks 3X flour

6.50

97.50

.20

320.00

1,600 lbs. side meat 5 C. S. scythes

.85

4.25

5 C. S. scythe sheaths

.80

4.00

17 gunnies

.30

5.10

63 lbs. cable chain

.14

8.82 5.00

1.25

4 gallons Sugar H molasses

53.70

Sundries for camp

$6,808.36

Total

Copyright © 2010. University of Nebraska Press. All rights reserved.

Union Pacific Railroad In 1867 the Union Pacific Railroad was running to Grand Island. Then nearly all western freight went to that point. The importance of railroads was then realized. Otoe County voted bonds to secure an eastern connection, but some of our business men considered a western connection of more importance, and after a number of meetings of the most prominent business men it was decided that for the future prosperity of our city and county, a railroad westward, to connect with the Union Pacific Railroad at or near Grand Island, running on a line near the one taken for the freighting route, was of vital importance. With that object in view, on the 12th of December, 1867, the Midland Pacific Railway Company was organized, composed of business

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overland freighting on the plains

men of our city as follows: James Sweet, F. A. White, E. S. Hawley, William Fulton, H. S. Calhoun, John B. Bennett, Tolbert Ashton, Nathan Simpson, and R. M. Rolfe. Frank A. White was chosen president and R. M. Rolfe secretary. Otoe County, at a special election held with only sixtyseven against, voted $150,000 in bonds to be delivered to the company upon a personal bond for $200,000 being given by the company for the faithful expenditure of the proceeds of the bonds in constructing and equipping the road. A corps of engineers was engaged and the surveying commenced in March 1868. A line was surveyed via Lincoln to Grand Island, right of way procured through Otoe County, and contracts let for the grading of the first ten miles. From the commencement to its completion to Lincoln the work never stopped.16 The building of the Midland Pacific Railway doubled the value of lands in Otoe County, built up prosperous towns along its route, bringing to its connection, at our city, the Burlington from Red Oak, and the iron and steel railroad and wagon bridge across the Missouri River. At the present time all our heavy manufacturing companies’ plants are located on its line, shipping eastward every year more pounds of greater value in goods and merchandise, manufactured from the products of our formerly unappreciated soil, than were ever freighted westward in one year during our most prosperous freighting times.

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Moses Henry Sydenham was born in England in 1835 and emigrated to the United States in 1856. He settled at Fort Kearny, where he found employment as the post master. When the fort closed he moved to the nearby civilian community that became Kearney, Nebraska. There he published the Central Star newspaper. Sydenham died there in 1907.17

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Freighting Across the Plains in 1856, a Personal Experience moses h. sydenham The subject I have chosen for my address is simply an individual and incidental experience in connection with the planting of civilization in Nebraska, showing the relation of the early overland freighting business with ox wagons to Nebraskan civilization and its progressive development of today.18 At one time I had much valuable data in my possession relative to the freighting business; but several boxes and barrels of valuable documents, having been burned up in a prairie fire, I cannot do justice to the subject in a general way, and can therefore do no more than give my own personal experience of a trip from Fort Leavenworth to Fort Laramie and return as far as Fort Kearny, in the fall and winter of 1856–57, leaving you to judge of its relation to history and civilization. Having come to the Northwest from near Augusta, Georgia, in the summer of 1857, the month of August of that year found me working in the office of the Kansas City Enterprise at Kansas City, Missouri. In the month of September I was taken sick with bilious fever and reduced in strength that I was hardly able to walk. Soon came to the conclusion that

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a change of climate would be the best thing to restore my health. About that time several other men were desirous of leaving Kansas City, and a party was made up, myself among them to go down the Missouri River to Cairo, Illinois, the new city at the mouth of the Ohio River. While the boat was being built and near completion, an agent of the government freight contractors Messrs. Russell, Majors, and Waddell of Lexington, Missouri, came to Kansas City to secure men to take a train of wagons loaded with freight, from Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, to Fort Laramie at the foot of the Black Hills of the Rocky Mountains, in what was then Nebraska Territory. The agent came to the hotel where I was boarding, made his business known, and very urgently pressed me to accept his offer, and make one of the party. At that time it was hard to get anyone to go on a trip of that kind by reason of the lateness of the season, the hostility of the Cheyennes, and other difficulties that would possibly have to be encountered. I explained to the agent how sick I was, which he could also see from my appearance: but he importuned and would not be put off. He said I would soon be strong again after I had been out on the plains a few days. So, as the compensation offered was good, I finally concluded to give up my contemplated trip to Cairo and go on this trip to the Rocky Mountains of the far West, and before the day was over was on a Missouri River steamboat en route to Leavenworth City at which place was the outfitting establishment of the contractors. The freighting business across the plains at this time was mostly done by Messrs. Russell, Majors and Waddell, the business being confined chiefly to the hauling supplies for the United States Government to the various military posts or stations located between the Missouri River and

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the Rocky Mountains. The contract for carrying supplies was usually let to the lowest and best bidder, the successful party having to do all the hauling for certain named forts for a stated length of time, at a stated price per pound of freight. Messrs. Russell, Majors, and Waddell were the successful bidders and regular contractors for the year 1856. Aside from the government freighting business, there was little done in the freighting line. The soldiers at military posts had a train go out about once a year, the size of which was according to the number of soldiers at the fort where they did business. Many emigrants went overland each year to California, Oregon, or Utah with wagons, outfits, and supplies, but which could hardly come under the head of freighting. A freight train in those days was composed of twenty-six large-sized wagons made to haul 6,000 pounds or more to the wagon; each wagon being drawn by six yoke of large oxen, with one man to drive and control each team, and a wagonmaster and assistant for each train. It was a novel sight in those days to see perhaps three or four or more of these trains in sight on the prairies at one time, some going east, and some going west as the case might be. Leavenworth City, Kansas, was the general outfitting depot of the contractors. Here were large parks of wagons, immense herds of cattle, great stacks of yokes and piles of chains ready always for business. Besides these a large mercantile store for the convenience of the men employed, where they purchased what supplies they needed for a trip in advance, the cost thereof being deducted out of their earnings. As soon as I reached Leavenworth City, all was commotion; the train was to be made up immediately. So it was hurry to get ready. In this case, however, it was only a

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half-train of twelve wagons, to haul some important freight to Fort Laramie before winter set in. Very soon we had the train made up, each teamster supplied with what he needed, besides revolver, shotgun, or rifle, and ammunition for the exigencies of the trip, and we were on our way to the quartermaster’s storehouse at Fort Leavenworth to load up the government stores, which were to be transported across the plains, a distance of something between six and seven hundred miles. What those stores consisted of can only be imagined. It was doubtless a general assortment of goods needed for a representative civilized community, as the inhabitants of every military post were known to be. There was, of course, a large supply of corn for the post animals, flour, sugar, coffee, and other groceries; ammunition, perhaps, with some needful medicines; also a box of books for the general good, to pass away the coming long winter nights and convey some new thoughts from the centers of literary intelligence in the far East. Perhaps there was a box of books for some one at the Fort from some personal friend, sent in the care of the quartermaster, for this was the last opportunity of conveyance before the year ended. Of the greatest importance to the future well-being of the western country and the coming civilization, might have been some of the contents of that train load of freight which we took into our wagons then at Fort Leavenworth. But we were soon on our way westward with it and slowly but surely moving on toward the mountains. Then there were but few settlements and farms west of Fort Leavenworth, so that we were soon traveling along over the great prairie, which extended hundreds of miles ahead of us. The first large stream we crossed was the Big Blue, at a fording place near where the city of Marysville, Kansas, is

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now situated. I remember some of the cottonwood trees on the river bottom there, which were somewhere about three feet or more in diameter. The next place at that time was the crossing of the Big Sandy Creek. Here a man named Patterson had a stockade made of hewn logs known as Patterson’s ranch, where he did some trading with the travelers and the friendly Indians.19 There was nothing on that trip that escaped the notice of an observing man, most of which I remember as plainly as though I were on that trip, and this was nearly forty years ago. It was soon after leaving the Big Sandy that we came across a large extent of burnt country, that is, there had been a recent prairie fire, and it was burning, then — but for a whole day, I think, and part of the next, we traveled over this burnt prairie. It was to me and to all of us a most desolate looking region indeed. On all sides was a perfect blackness as far as the eye could see, the only relief being the blue sky above and here and there some partly burnt white bones of some buffalo or other animal. It was a perfect picture of despair, with hope left out. But I knew that that would end; that the winds would come, the winter come, the snow or rain come again, and the springtime come; and then where all this blackness was, the earth would take on its beautiful green and the beautiful flowers would come, and all be brightness and cheerfulness again. The next object of attraction was when we came to the summit of the sand hills bordering the Platte valley. For there in the distance my eyes first saw that grand valley of the Platte spread out as far as the eye could reach, with the waters of the river glistening in the sunshine and the dense groves of trees on the islands making a fine relief to the scene. Along the level valley of the Platte River we had to travel something over four hundred miles.

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The next day, it must have been October 20, the flag of Fort Kearny came in sight, and with it the fort, looming up like an oasis in the desert. Fort Kearny! Name full of interest to the early freighter and the early settler of central Nebraska and the farther west! Fort Kearny! Name so full of historical incident and reminiscence! What could have been the freighting business across the plains without Forts Kearny and Laramie, and other forts dotted over that great plateau lying between the Missouri River and the Rocky Mountains? There would have been no freighting, that is all, and there would have been no need of reciting this personal experience today. Fort Kearny! There within sight of the star-spangled banner waving from the flagstaff, every man connected with the freighting outfit felt that he could rest for a short season at least, in mind and body, and get whatever supplies might be needful for the rest his journey. Fort Kearny! How time’s memory comes springing up before me, as I think of the men and scenes associated with it that have come and gone. When we arrived there in October 1856, the officer in command was Capt. Wharton of the Sixth United States Infantry. There were two companies of infantry there then, and two companies of dragoons or cavalry. The fort buildings were built of three classes of material, wood, adobe and prairie sod, while a double row of cottonwood and ash trees lined the driveway around the parade ground. These evidences of civilization were what greeted the eye of every delighted beholder as each viewed the scene before him. To one, however, who lived there so many years of his life, the historical place has particularly stirring memories, especially of brave men whose destinies in life fell so far apart in life’s affairs by reason of their different and varied sentiments. There were army officers trained in the same

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school even, and fond companions in garrison and camp life, who would afterwards meet each other or face each other’s shot and shell on opposing battlefields of bloody carnage and destruction. I can see some of those men in memory now as they sat silent and thoughtful in the private room of my post office, listening to the reading of the telegrams just fresh from the stylus of Mr. Ellsworth, our telegraph operator, as he wrote sheet by sheet from the ticking telegraph before us for Fort Kearny and the Pony Express, to convey to Denver, Salt Lake, and San Francisco the momentous and alarming news of the firing on Fort Sumter. These with many men of prominence in public affairs later on in life, whom I have seen or spoken with, or associated with at old Fort Kearny, all come, plainly before me, strangely mixed in this mention of personality, but who will all be familiar to some of you by reputation if nothing more. Do you recognize them as I call the roll of men of historic fame or renown? Gen. W. T. Sherman, Gen. Pope, Gen. R. H. Anderson, Gen. Beverly H. Robertson, Gen. Miles, Gen. Ruggles, Gen. Hawkins, Gen. Joe Johnston, Gen. Carrington, Gen. Livingston, Ex-Gov. Alvin Saunders, Lt. Gov. Thos. J. Majors, Gen. John M. Thayer, Maj. Lee P. Gillette, Dr. John E. Summers, Dr. Geo. L. Miller, Gen. Harry Heth, Post sutler and interpreter, John Heth, Col. A. J. Dallas, Col. Chas. A. May, Maj. Morris, Maj. McCown, Col. Alexander, Dr. Alexander, Dr. R. B. Grimes, with many others. Besides the individuality, incidents are recalled to add to its historic fame, such as Indian alarms and Indian demands; the spiking of the cannon to prevent their being sent South; the insult to Gen. Sherman by an enemy, which caused the immediate abandonment of the fort; together with other incidents that might be recalled.

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But enough. We are freighting across the plains and that means motion, so with all needful supplies secured, we gather up the cattle, yoke them, get them hitched to the wagons, and then, with a “Gee Buck” and “Wo-ah, Sandy, Get Up Black and Go Along Brandy,” the chains are tautened and with one more good look at the fort and its surroundings, we roll along towards our next stopping place and destination, about three hundred and fifty miles further west, Fort Laramie. By this time the men had all become well disciplined in all the needed requirements of the trip, which was very necessary for its successful accomplishment. It was often the case that a mutinous spirit was developed among men when teamsters and wagonmasters did not always work together in harmony. We had a man in command, however, who was in every way capable of filling the responsible position. It was just as it is on board a ship; each man had to be ready to obey orders at a moment’s notice — for in case of a sudden visitation from hostile Indians, quick movements and a singleness of purpose would have been necessary — the wagons quickly parted; the cattle quickly unhitched; defensive corral formed with the chains; the cattle secured and the loaded guns ready for instantaneous action. The rules of Alexander Majors, one of the government contractors, were found to be of valuable service with every train that went out on the plains. No swearing or profane language was allowed, and no drinking of strong drink, or gambling under any circumstances. With such requirements faithfully adhered to, the men soon got to be quite orderly and under perfect control, and of course much better fitted to contend with the rough and trying experiences of such a trip.

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After leaving Fort Kearny two or three days more found us in camp at Plum Creek, where we had to contend with a snow storm of about two days and nights duration. With cattle depending on the grass for their food, and that grass yellow by reason of loss of vitality and the approach of the winter season, it was hard to hold the stock for the beating and blinding storm. But with all the hardship of that storm, I have often thought we were well favored, when compared with a storm that came seven years later at the same place, when every teamster with twelve wagons had to take a storm of flying arrows and bullets from about two hundred Cheyennes, and every one scalped, not a man being left to tell the tale.20 But such are some of the incidents connected with early freighting, and the keeping up of the connection of eastern civilization with its little counterparts and representative military settlements in the wilderness of what was down on the maps as the Great American Desert. In the storm at Plum Creek, we managed to hold our stock, and as soon as the storm was over we were soon again wending our way westward up the valley of the Platte and passing on by the junction of the South and North Platte rivers. The next object of interest was O’Fallon’s Bluffs, a point on the south bank of the South Platte, where the bluffs came squarely up to the bank of the river, and the road we tracked was over the top of those bluffs, from which point we soon arrived at the crossing of the South Platte, the usual fording place for the teams of wagons. Here, of course, all was excitement and extra energy, till the last wagon was got across the river. Two teams, making twelve yoke of cattle, were usually hitched to a wagon, “doubling up” as it was called to get each wagon through the water and the quicksands of the stream. But

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time and perseverance soon had us all over and on our way across the divide between the two Plattes a distance of about fifteen miles, to a place called Ash Hollow, a canyon of the hills bordering the south side of the North Platte valley. Here the hills were so steep and crooked that the utmost care had to be exercised to keep the wagons from capsizing. No calamity happened with us, however, and we were soon at the mouth of the hollow in sight of an abandoned earthwork, known as Fort Grattan, named after an officer who was killed in an engagement with the Sioux Indians.21 From there we tracked up the North Platte River past many curiosities of nature in the hills bordering the river. The first of these, the Court House Rock, looked like the dome of a large building looming up in the sky, with many other formations around it, resembling steeples, turrets, and towers of buildings in a large city. Passing further up the Platte was another freak of nature in the form of a high towering rock on the top of a steep and high hill, the rock being about twenty-five feet or more through and square like a chimney of some factory — towering up into the sky several hundred feet, left there by the great waters that at one time covered this part of the earth. This was known as Chimney Rock and could be seen a long distance before coming to its base. One more noticeable feature in that interesting country was the formation known as Scott’s Bluffs. At this point the road ran through the hills and close up to a straight, perpendicular wall four or five hundred feet high, after passing which we were soon in sight of the Laramie River. On the banks of this stream was situated Fort Laramie, with the pine-clad Black Hills of the Rocky Mountains in bold relief to the north and west of it.

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Once more we were delighted with a view of the star spangled banner as it floated from the flagstaff of that military settlement, at the base of the mountains. Here our journey westward was to end. It did not take long to view the situation of things, as I looked over, first, the manly figures of our brave soldiers in blue; then the houses and homes of civilized people; then the location of French Indian traders in the neighborhood of the fort; then Indians, squaws and papooses, here and there; all making a scene long to be remembered in a picture, a scene of the commingling of savage and civilized conditions of human development. Here at this military post was the first glimpse of any human being since we left Fort Kearny, a distance of about three hundred and fifty miles. Nothing was to be seen in all that distance but the grand prairie of Platte valley and the tree-covered islands of the Platte River, in localities where they were prevalent, one near Fort Kearny being about sixty miles long with hundreds of others of all sizes and dimensions near by it. Fort Laramie was established by the United States Government to protect the emigrants to Utah, Oregon, California, and other of our far western territories, from attacks and depredations of the powerful bands of the great Sioux Indian Nation, and to keep open the communication between the eastern states and western territories of the Republic, so that American individual enterprise and progressive development might in no wise be checked or interfered with. And even with this preservation of the military power of the Republic, the attacks of the Brule and Ogallala bands of Sioux continued to annoy, harass, and interfere with our traveling people, so that a special expedition had to be sent against them, under Gen. Harney,

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who attacked Chief Little Thunder, on the Blue River [Blue Water Creek], near Ash Hollow, in the fall of 1856, severely chastising him and burning his villages.22 Considering the hostile temper of the Indians and their interference with the development of American civilization, the importance of the establishment of such military posts as forts Kearny and Laramie and others, is plainly evident. And in connection also, the important point was that freighting business of these days was the great chain, as it were, that kept them in close proximity to their base of supplies on the Missouri River, and in bonds of hope and sympathy with that great civilization which existed nearly seven hundred miles away. But we must be moving on. Our freighting expedition is not yet ended. We have yet to return to Leavenworth. So with the supplies all safely deposited in the quartermaster’s and commissary’s store houses, we prepare to return. In the first place the wagons are all parked for the winter and the cattle driven into winter quarters to be kept over for next year’s business, large quantities of hay having been cut for their subsistence. Then with one light wagon to carry our provisions and bedding and six head of horses and mules, we bid farewell to Fort Laramie and are headed again for the point from whence we started, Leavenworth City, taking sufficient provisions to last us to Fort Kearny, where we expected to lay in a further supply to last us till we reached our destination. So with light hearts and cheerful spirits we entered on our east-bound journey, aiming to travel as much of the distance as possible every day. I think it was the evening of the third day after leaving Fort Laramie that our party of thirteen men, including the wagonmaster, John Renick, arrived at the mouth of Ash Hollow, after traveling all day

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through from six inches to a foot of snow, the result of a recent snow storm. When we arrived there another snow storm had commenced and with a strong north wind, the atmosphere having gone down to below zero. We got into camp as quickly as possible, happening upon a spot where there was a very good supply of dry cedar in the bluffs not far distant. That snow storm developed into a genuine “blizzard,” which lasted over two days and nights, and when it was over a thermometer would have indicated about thirty degrees below zero. We crowded ourselves together as well as we could in one small tent we had, leaving a large fire burning in front of the tent door all through the night, it being kept burning in good shape by the night watch. After the storm was over, however, all egress from the canyon was impossible, for the great drifts of snow piled against the bluffs we had to pass over. On the level prairie beyond the bluffs we discovered the snow was also too deep for us to travel through, so we had to stay, await a change of weather, and make the best we could of the situation. As soon as we could, we moved our camp a mile or more up into the canyon to where the wood was more convenient. For a time the prospect looked very gloomy, from the fact that our provisions were nearly gone, and there was no possible chance apparently for getting more supplies. About two days after going to our new camp, however, a party of Ogallala Sioux Indians came by with their ponies loaded down with fresh buffalo meat, which they were taking to their camp to dry. The Indians were quite friendly, gave us some fresh meat, and also the information that their camp was but a few miles off, over the bluffs by a spring, at the mouth of another canyon opening into the valley of the North Platte River. They invited us to come over and

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stay at their village, telling us also that the French traders, Drips and Madret, were there and could possibly let us have some provisions. Just as early as possible we found a way to get to the Indian village. Provision was scarce with the traders, but they kindly let us have one sack of flour at $20.00 per hundred, and a little corn meal at a proportionate price. So we had the pleasure of having a small piece of bread twice a day with the buffalo meat of which we had about all we wanted. The absence of salt, however, made it to our tastes somewhat insipid. The corn meal we got was to make a feast for the Indians of corn meal mush and sugar, which we were advised to do, to gain their general good will, these being the same band of Indians who together with the Brules had been severely chastised by Gen. Harney about a year previous. In return for our present to them of corn meal and sugar, a large number of them congregated together, formed a circle, and gave one of their “dances” for our benefit; the squaws also evidenced their goodwill by taking two wagon sheets and making them over into a lodge or “wigwam,” similar to those made for themselves of buffalo skins. So while our party remained at the Indian village, some lived in the tent and some in the lodge. Before we had got our lodge made, however, and but a few days after we had arrived at the Indian village, we made an effort to continue our journey east by packing our animals with bedding and provisions and starting down on the ice of the North Platte River. In this proceeding, difficulties and obstacles were in the way, which prevented the accomplishment of our purpose. We had not got far from the Indian village before the ice got to be very glassy and slippery, the animals with the packs on their backs falling down every now and then, necessitating a continual

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unpacking and repacking, so that when night came on us we had only got about eight miles, and then we could not drive a tent pin to put up our tent, by reason of frozen sand, we being obliged to stay on a sand bar of the river all night. We stacked our guns and tried to make some shelter by hanging the tent over them, but the wind was so strong nothing could be done, and so with the atmosphere about ten degrees or more below zero, we laid down on the sand bar all night with our scanty bedding, half frozen, shivering, and unable to sleep. Then in the morning there was no wood near or in sight but a sodden log found on the river bar. We tried to get fire and make some coffee, but our attempts were a failure. Consequently the wagonmaster called all together for a “council,” to determine what was best to be done under such circumstances. It was the unanimous opinion of all that we return to the Indian village, for to proceed would only be starvation and death. So to the village we returned, remaining there full five weeks longer, by reason of the continued conditions of the severe winter weather. Then, I think it must have been the twenty-second day of January, the mail from Salt Lake City, a monthly mail between Salt Lake City and Independence, Missouri, arrived from the west in charge of Messrs. Eph Hanks and Elder Little of the Mormon church, they being the subcontractors for carrying the United States mail on that route. They had an ambulance and our mules and traveled down on the ice of the river. On their arrival arrangements were made for our party to travel down the river with them, the advantage being that their experience together with our helpful force, might overcome any difficulties in the way of our progress, and thus we might get safely through.

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So we started, and our party was just sixteen days making that hundred and sixty miles from the Indian camp near the mouth of Ash Hollow to Fort Kearny. The mail party’s animals being rough shod, they were able to make better time on the ice and thus reached the Fort about two or three days before we did. Captain Wharton, the commander of Fort Kearny, was by them informed of our needy condition, and he immediately had a wagon sent to meet us with a supply of provisions. In the mean time we were having all kinds of experiences traveling on the river. There were places where for miles the river was as smooth as glass and very slippery. Then the animals would slip down, and we would have to take them one by one and drag and push them on their sides over the ice till we could find a place where was some snow or a bare sand bar on which they might get up. Then again, at other places, there were open channels that we could not get around, running with mush ice to the depth of four or five feet or more in places. Here we had to unhitch the animals from the wagon, carry the bedding and provisions over on our backs and shoulders first, lead the animals through, one by one, and then pull the wagon through as best we could, the icy coldness of the water giving us a severe chilling as we passed through. In other places there was what was known as shell ice to contend with; that was where large areas of thick ice had become overflown by the channels, forming another layer of ice six inches or a foot above the other, to the thickness of about one inch. This was difficult for the animals to walk through and cut their legs as they tried to step along, the ice being somewhat sodden, every step made a hole just the size of the foot, the foot having to get out of that hole carefully with every step made, and then at times cutting

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their legs and making them bleed badly. Not only had our provisions given out, but the fatigue of overcoming these difficulties made us all weak, so that even our guns were, therefore, all buried beneath the snow under a cottonwood tree with an eagle’s nest in it, on an island near Cottonwood Springs. Some of our personal effects were thrown away; and even the bed of the wagon was used up for kindling wood, and to lighten the burden on animals and men. Two of our animals were left to perish, by reason of the lack of food, there being very little corn we could get, or carry for them, with the grass all buried under the snow. The bark and buds of the cottonwood trees, which we cut down for them to eat, was not sufficient to sustain life, and they had to succumb. I remember, when the wagon of provisions from the fort met us a little west of Plum Creek, how joyful we were. The last meal we had eaten that morning was the shakings of the flour sack and the shakings of the gunny bag which held the dried buffalo meat, all put into a camp kettle and stirred up with some water, and that without salt and burned by the cook withal. What an insipid mess it was! But even a cupful of that was precious to us then. With the meager fare we had been obliged to live on, with the dreary monotony of the snow-white river, with the snow everywhere in the valley and on the hills beyond, with the wolves in packs howling along on the hill tops, and part of the way we were blinded by the dazzling whiteness of the snow and fatigued by the experiences of the trip, I was glad indeed when once more we beheld that dear old flag of hope and promise floating from the flag staff of Fort Kearny. We arrived there on the ninth day of February, 1857, from the west, and the night of the day on which we arrived

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brought with it another blizzard, the like of which I have not seen since. Most of our men were in a sod building a short distance from the fort. Another man and myself remained in our Indian lodge a few rods from the home. When the storm came up in the night, the wind blew over the lodge and I remained buried under the snow all that night and most of the next day. The storm lasted about two days and nights, leaving immense drifts when it was over. All the one story buildings at the fort, with the hay stacks around, were all drifted under. Cuttings had to be made through the drifts to the doors of most of the quarters to let the inmates out after the drifting of a night. One young man, a German, who was clerking for Messrs. Dyer, Heath & Co., the sutlers in going from the officers’ mess house to a building a few rods from the post, where he was going to sleep, missed his way in broad daylight, wandered off, and perished, the Pawnee Indians finding his remains the following April some five or six miles out in the hills. And now I hardly like to close this narrative of events without mentioning one incident of this trip closely connected with my past, present, and so much of a future of life on earth as an all-wise Providence chooses to bless me with. This was an important event in my life connected with a triple dream, as my narrative will explain; for to give this experience of a trip across the plains without this incident, would be like the play of Hamlet with Hamlet left out. With my arrival at Fort Kearny, my freighting trip ended. My companions, after staying at the Fort some days to recuperate and to give the weather an opportunity to get settled and favorable for traveling, resumed their journey to Leavenworth. I took the position of the young man who was lost in the storm, and became clerk in the sutler’s

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employ, taking charge also of the post office affairs of the Fort, by my appointment as postmaster, which position I filled for not less than fifteen years. I have now given you a personal experience of one trip across the plains in the olden time. After the discovery of gold in Colorado and the commencement of settlement of that country, more or less freighting was done for merchants and miners; but it did not compare with the extent and systematized manner of carrying on the freighting business under these pioneer contractors, Messrs. Russell, Majors, and Waddell in those days. And that freighting business then, to the civilization of the Nebraska of today, was like the previous freight of Noah’s ark to a future civilization of the world, or the freight of the good ship Mayflower to the future civilization of the United States. Without that freighting business there would have been no military posts, no such civilization as blesses Nebraska today, and no hope of that more glorious civilization which beckons us on to brighter things today.

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chapter four

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White Settlement

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When Nebraska Territory was created in 1845 white settlement began in earnest. These newcomers faced unexpected trials, but in their stories they show some pride in coping with these difficulties.

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Part of the Making of a Great State john a. macmurphy I am aware that there is considerable of the ego in this story, but I have tried to write it in the third person and failed.1 I am not good at that, and it requires too much explanation. In fact, the change in myself has been so great, and in every other phase of the scene so immense, that it is really another person simply looking back and putting the present man in the place of the boy of twenty. I have tried to efface my present self and go back thirty years and describe things just as they looked then, and I hope to take you all with me for a short space of time. In a street in New York City that was then a great thoroughfare to Brooklyn, in 1856, there was a very respectable dry goods store. The proprietor in that far away day dwelt over his store as many others did in the heart of New York. It was there I first heard of Nebraska. Said proprietor, a relative, had been in the habit each fall of sorting up a lot of stock a little passe at home, [?] and taking it out west to sell to the “wild and wooly,” though these people were far east of us now. That fall he went away west to St. Louis, and when he came home he was full of a wonderful man he had met there, a Dr. Thompson, and of a wonderful country still further from civilization, of which the said Thompson and a New York syndicate owned an integral part, to-wit, one half a town site, way up the Missouri River above Omaha

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and in the Territory of Nebraska; and Thompson was sure, and my relative was sure, that if we would only go there in the spring we would in a short space of time become very wealthy and in the course of a few years be important and highly honored citizens of the new realm, perhaps get to be congressmen or even governor, when it became a state. Nothing was talked of in the parlors above that little store that winter but Nebraska, the new, the glorious country, where to live was a pleasure, or even if we died, a joy to be buried therein. Thompson’s son had furnished plats, maps, and prices, and my friend visited the great Mogul in Wall Street, who was furnishing the money to some, and whose “Company” owned half the town site, and returned from that visit more certain than ever that Nebraska was the land to go to, and our future worldly prospects would be assured forever, and so it was. Well, to be short, a little party of New Yorkers was made up, and we were all to start in March for St. Louis and the West. The very lots we were to have were picked out on the map and the section and number of the land we were to preempt adjoining the town site. What magic there was in that word town site! We had always supposed a site for a town, the land of a village, was owned by a great many people, a thousand, at least, and we had never even owned a lot; but this whole situation had been owned by only four people, and now the great New York Company, of which we were a part, had bought half the place and we were to be part owners of that, the whole owners, each male at least, of 160 acres of Uncle Sam’s good land for almost nothing. I tell you that was a rich winter! We were a happy crowd; from clerks and paupers we had become landed and city proprietors, and were on the high road to health, wealth,

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and happiness. Our things were packed with much advice, as to what to take and what to leave, from people who know nothing at all about it, but then you know how that is yourselves. We were to get final supplies in St. Louis, as the kind of things needed were better and cheaper there than in New York. Thompson warned us not to got too much, not “to lumber up” because this town had been settled in the summer of 1856; there were four stores there and fifteen houses; no wilderness, no trouble to get things. So about the first of April 1857, we found ourselves at the old Planters’ House in St. Louis, busy packing up the final traps, shipping a saw mill, and waiting for the boat to start. What a pleasant place the Planters was then! To us anyway, with its wide verandas and genial people, every one ready to help us along to our prairie heaven. The steamboat finally left, but our party remained a day and were to overtake it by rail at Leavenworth. This was in the days of the Kansas-Nebraska troubles, of which we knew little, and I have said nothing about them as you can read them now for yourselves. We arrived at Leavenworth in the evening, and the boat was to be there in the morning; the hotel was just built — not finished, the landlord said every room was full, but we could sleep on the billiard tables in the basement, and he would “eat us somehow.” Goodbye old Astor House, New York, and old Planters’, St. Louis! While these arrangements were making, I heard a noise outside and, boy-like, rushed to the door to see what was the matter. Two men were using hard words, they closed a moment, the pop of a pistol was heard, and one dropped over, shot dead. It was the old trouble, a “Yankee” and a Virginian quarreling over the slavery question, and it was the Virginian that lay in the gutter! He was a fine looking,

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black eyed young fellow and his long hair streamed over the curb stone as did the blood from his wound. It was the first man I had ever seen killed in cold blood, and I felt awfully about it; could not get over the sight for several days.

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On Board the Omaha That was the name of our boat, and she was loaded to the “gunnels,” as they say, with passengers and freight. In fact, all the state rooms, berths, and cozy places were taken, for the women and children, and men with families, the rush to Kansas, Nebraska, and further was so enormous that spring. We young unmarried fellows had to sleep on the deck on blankets, mattresses, etc., so that I early began to know what “roughing it” meant. And now began the new life in earnest. The long lazy never-to-be-forgotten boat ride on the “Muddy Missouri,” another phase of life that has passed away; the swirling, tumbling, clay-colored river, so utterly unlike any waters we had ever seen; who of eastern birth will ever forget their first sight of the Missouri River? It was years after before I read Mark Twain’s description of a pilot’s life, but the very same points arose in my mind then;2 I had sailed on the Hudson, in the bays about New York, on the ocean, but there were always fixed landmarks to steer by, something that stayed there, or the compass and chart, but here without either, how that pilot ever found or kept the channel was a mystery for many days, and not wholly elucidated yet. In fact, he didn’t always, and sometimes struck a sandbar. Many days ensued with nothing to do except watch the ever changing scenery, unless you played cards and many did apparently day and night. Two famous gamblers were aboard, and when they slept the eye of man knew not.

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The river was high, for that was the spring after the great snow; we could not run all night and often tied up to a cottonwood tree, apparently in the middle of the river, or again on some shelving beach, with white, clean sand, and the boys would get out there and run races in the moonlight for tobacco and “sich.” The wood yards, and the inhabitants that gathered there, were always a source of wonder, and at times of sport. The regular fight between the Captain and the owner of the yard over the price of wood, often ending “You go to H-ll,” would make a horse laugh if it could be reported now phonetically; and when we did stop to “wood up,” especially at night fall it was a novel scene. After the Captain and the wood yard man got through swearing, the mates and the dock hands began; and such oaths, accompanied by blows, and threatenings without number! Talk about clothing a man with curses, as with a garment for an ulster, rubber poncho, Marquee tent, and a spare suit for Sunday. “Come now, there! Lively now with that wood! Roll it in! Are you asleep out there? You tumble up now lively!” “All aboard!” and with a jerk the plank was yanked in, sometimes leaving the last man in the river to be hauled out by his comrades. We had no labor unions then. I wonder that working men would say now, at being cursed and struck an hour at a time; but they did not seem to mind it, grew fat and danced the Juba over it.3 The boat was so crowded that it was hard to get anything to eat, and a tremendous rush was made for first places at the table. An hour before the bell rang we formed in a long row and patiently waited; but then we had nothing else [to] do. And the table! None of your little square, four at a time stands, but the length of the entire cabin. No little snippy dishes of this and that on the side, but great

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white settlement

immense roasts and stews and broils, and the Captain in the grandeur of primeval authority stood at the head of the table, with a knife as long your arm, and he cut and he carved as he pleased, but was very polite with his mouth, as to what part you would have, etc. A big fat steward stood behind him, to hand him things, the darkey boys trotted down the long table with heaping plates. Juicy! Fat! Those were dinners when you got them once! At one point a typical frontiersman come aboard, Jim Bridger, a man who had seen Indians — yea, killed them! How we gathered around him and stared! He had a bullet hole in his hat just above the hair, and I had no idea then that such a hole could be made in any other way than when the man’s hat was on his head. The “landings” at towns were as unique as the “woodups,” but I have no space here to describe them for we must hurry up or we shall never get to Nebraska. In Kansas we saw cannon mounted on the bluffs at several points. Our boat was not halted, but several had been. At one place only were we searched. A committee came aboard; they did not ask us to say “caow” or “to hum,” nor lift our baggage for rifles. It happened that nearly all our people were going to Nebraska or Sioux City, and we were passed without further trouble. Above St. Joe, Missouri, we found few wood yards, and had to cut our own wood. The passengers would go out and help to kill time, for they wanted to “get there” bad. The New Yorkers would try to make fun of the long, lank Missourians that came to the landings. At one place they had teased a green looking chap considerably. After the Captain had shouted, “All aboard,” and they were pulling the gang plank in, he said to Charley Porter, “Got any terbacker?” “Yes,” said Charley, handing out a plug of fine

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natural leaf twist. The Missourian took out a six-inch jack knife and cut off one third of the plug. Holding it up he said, “That’s terbacker enough for any man, aint it?” “I should think it was,” said Charley. “Well you take it,” said the native, biting a huge chunk off the two-thirds in his hand and cramming the rest in his shirt as he jumped ashore. And so we plowed our way upward, our numbers thinning a little at Rulo, Brownville, Nebraska City, and other places, until we reached Omaha. Here there was quite an exodus. Our party did not go ashore, and all I remember of Omaha at that time was a long sand ridge away out where the river is now, with two cottonwood shanties, saloons, and a scrubby old cottonwood tree. One shanty had a sign, “The Last Chance,” that meant till you got to Sioux City, and was the first time I had ever seen that sign. The two gamblers, who were going further, invited every one ashore to “take suthin”; as they had won all the loose change aboard, they could well afford to, and I think fifty, at least, must have followed then to the cottonwood bar. We were two or three weeks from St. Louis to Omaha, over a week more in getting to Decatur, our famous town site; and now we were really in Nebraska and beginning to help make a state. What a queer looking place it was. A more heartbroken and dilapidated set of tenderfeet never put hoof ashore, than we were the next day after the boat was gone and we were left fairly alone miles from nowhere and nobody “to home.” Instead of four stores, there were two log trading posts, owned by Frenchmen, who hated “ventre bleu Yankees,” and as for the fifteen houses, there wasn’t such a thing as what we had been accustomed to call a house in the place. The long, cold winter had driven

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all but a few of the inhabitants of the fall before way, and we came near having to sleep on the prairie the first night. None of this particular party were accustomed to hard outdoor labor, and had never seen a country before where there was not a good tavern handy at night and a warm breakfast ready cooked the next morning. Our complications, annoyances, and experiences would fill a volume, but you have nearly all been there and I must rush on to describe things of a more local nature. How we packed a small frame house (made in St. Louis) from the river banks on our backs and set it up for the only woman in the crowd, and how we lived on a barrel of eggs and of potatoes that some member had thoughtfully bought from the boat, after seeing the “town site,” until another steamboat came along; how the rest of us slept in a log cabin with a dirt roof, and got wet when it did rain, and how part of the saw mill had been left behind in St. Louis, and there was nothing to do but stake out claims and play euchre, a new game to us, must be left for “another story.” I am anxious to write a few words of a phase of early Nebraska that cannot be reproduced. Imagine us stored away in cottonwood shanties hastily constructed, dugouts, log cabins, and a few settlers coming in from time to time, to add to our numbers and bring word from the outside world. For our mails came once a week to Ashton, Iowa, and had to be sent for, so that it was often a fortnight between times. Staking out “claims,” wondering what we should do by and by when our money gave out, and whether the country would produce anything if it were planted, making acquaintance with the Indians, who flattened their noses against the windows of the cabin and scared our only woman almost to death, formed our chief occupations for the first month or so.

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In those days I had jet black hair, and soon sunburned darker than many a half breed. This, I think, took “Old Lumbar’s” fancy, so one day he hailed me and said in substance: “You young man, got good ed-yuc-a-shun, you don’t look like Yankee, how you like to come with me in my store? Injun payment come soon, you keep my books, learn Injun trade.” I was only too glad to agree, and the next morning took my place behind the rude counter of a little log trading post and began another chapter of life still more strange and more at variance with my previous belongings. While the little town grew, a few families came in, some prairie was broke, the town company made a few improvements, and we began in odd ways to assume the duties of citizenship in a new country, this chronicle will turn to the doings of still older settlers than any of us in Nebraska.

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The Aborigines The Omaha Indians had barely been removed from below Omaha to their present reservation in the fall of 1856, and as no agreements were made for post traders, and no white men allowed on the reservation other than the agent and his employees, the two Frenchmen, Sarpy and Lambert, and one American, Chase, had established stores or “posts,” as they called them, just over the line, in Decatur. The event of the year, the “payment,” was daily expected. Did you ever see an Indian payment in all its glory? I guess not. Forty thousand dollars in gold was distributed per capita among the heads of families and almost every dollar of it was spent within four days from the time it left the United States agent’s hands.4 The old regular traders had trusted the Indians through the fall and winter, and were allowed to go to the paymaster’s table and collect their

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accounts, as each tall red man stalked by and got his gold pieces and to the honor of both parties there was seldom a disputed account, though the book had been of the rudest kind on both sides. This diminished the forty thousand dollars woefully. In addition, half a dozen temporary traders mostly from Council Bluffs, for the Omaha merchants had not caught on to the Indian trade yet, rushed up at payment time, pitched their tents in the neighborhood, and divided the remainder of the forty thousand dollars with the “regulars” much to their disgust, and so strong the rivalry that it often seemed as if blood must flow to settle the disputes. Thirty-six years ago the Nebraska Indians were much more primitive creatures than now; his contact with the Mi-e-tonga, other than French traders, had been limited. He had never seen so much money in the world before, he had never had so much as his share of the forty thousand dollars amounted to, in all his long or short life. Surrounded by traders, whose tents glittered with the things he had not, but wanted, and thought he needed, do you wonder that in three days his money was all gone, and he again lived on credit until next payment? Shemokeman of the present day are frequently no wiser. For three days and nights we never took our clothes off nor slept, except standing catnaps by turns, and at the end of that time there was but little money left among the Omahas and but few goods on the shelves of the traders. Blankets, strouding for petticoats, butcher knives, guns, powder, lead, sugar, coffee, tabac, hatchets, beads, looking glasses, flints, paints for the person or to color robes, vermillion being the favorite, flour, and bacon were among the principal articles sold. As a curiosity I mention that at that time the Indians were perfectly crazy for fresh beef, “tesca”; the outside traders always brought in a lot of cattle

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on the hoof, some tough ones too, but they were all sold by the time payment was over, and the Indians literally gorged themselves on it. Fresh venison was nowhere by the side of white man’s beef. Another fallacy: learned men tell us salt is essential to human health and happiness; it is a fact, these Indians would not eat salt, they would spew and sputter and cry, “Peazha, peazha, scha-ha!” (bad, very bad), if by chance they got any in their mouths. During payment time these traders, and every[one] else about the place were wide awake and sober as a judge but after it was all over, the Indians gone back to their reserve, the money disposed of, they were apt to take a big spree to make up for the days and nights of work and anxiety. One of their frolics was like this; Sarpy, Lambert, and a Council Bluffs trader stripped to the buff, took a bolt of calico each from the store, and winding it around them like a breech cloth, Indian fashion, they mounted their ponies, with fifteen or twenty yards of calico streaming behind for a banner and with a new broom for a gun they galloped the town over, took a drink at the one saloon, and ran races until the calico gave out from the horses stepping on it and contact with the weeds. There has been a great change amongst the Indians since then in dress. The males generally wore a breech cloth and blanket in summer, or a buffalo robe in winter, confined by a belt or cord at the waist. When this was dropped off the shoulders to use the arms, they were naked from the waist up — moccasins and leggings of course. The squaws mostly wore a short calico shirt and a stroud, that is, a narrow, straight petticoat, short, of a heavy, very wearable blue or red cloth, with a bright selvedge around it, made expressly for the Indian trade, and at present practically out of market. Now nearly all the tribe are dressed in civilized fashion and would feel

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badly if clothed otherwise. Language, too, has changed; I have used two words above for white man; Mietonga, big or long knife, from the swords of the officers, the Indians first saw; and Shemokeman, white or pale faces, the first was used as much as, if not more than, the last in 1857, while probably no Omaha would speak of a white man as Mietonga today. This spelling is my own. Every now and then Congressman Dorsey or some other would send me a big book from Washington with Indian history in, and the spelling is fearfully and wonderfully put together. No human tongue can pronounce it “that-a-way,” not even Garner’s anthropoids. The Indian for pony is Shonga — I spell it S-h-o-n-g-a. What is the use of putting in consonants like an ex-secretary of state until the words look like this: T-z-s-c-h-o-n-g-a-a-h. When so much is said about what is money, and its real value, it seems queer to me to look back and think that I took part in such a trade by barter, for in the interval between payments a large part of our business was in furs, robes, and skins. We got a great many buffalo robes, yet and beaver, mink, otter, fox, and now and then a bear skin or a silver gray wolf. Antelope, deer, and elk skins were plenty and each had its barter price in flour, sugar, coffee, meat, or what Mr. Indian wanted. We verified the old saying that a “pint’s a pound the world round,” for the trade price of many skins was a pint, tin cup full of such and such goods. Towards spring half the place would be piled to the ceiling with peltries and you could smell that old log cabin for miles down the bottom when the door was open and the wind right. Nice place to sleep, but that is nothing when you get used to it. Among other curious incidents that summer I took part in an Indian funeral; one of the chiefs died and it seems he

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had made [Stephen] Decatur promise to bury him just like a white man, and the old Commodore tried his best as you will see. A pine coffin was made by the town carpenter, stained black, and put in a lumber wagon. Several of us went along to see how things would go, and to make it look like a white man’s procession. We drove up on the reserve and found the “tepee” where the chief lay easily enough by the howling and entered. Evidently there was a division in the family about the manner of celebrating the obsequies; after the ground was strewn with guttural ugh’s, and the Commodore had emphasized his opinion with words that are in the prayer book, but not in the way he used them, they motioned us to [go] on ahead. We laid the corpse in the coffin face up, but that wouldn’t do; the squaws turned him over face down. We tried to nail the lid on, and that wouldn’t do. We picked it up and carried it to the grave as much like white men as we could. The grave was dug down about three feet much wider than the coffin, then an offset and a place the size of the coffin was dug some three feet deeper. We lowered the body, the coffin still open; and his family insisted on putting in a number of his personal belongings on top and about the body. It is so many years ago I will not attempt to give them accurately, but a bow and arrows, food, tobacco, a knife, and a medicine bag were among the lot. The lid would not go down, of course, and was left on top of the debris, and some dirt thrown over it. Decatur then read the Episcopal burial service, and we all joined in when possible. This part seemed to please the Indians very much. They afterwards set up pieces of wood like rafters from the offset, about three feet above the ground to the point and then covered that with brush and dirt, making a mound that can be seen a long way off. Much might be and has been written of the American Indian

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of his council fires, his medicine dances, etc., and much of it latterly is trash. A man or woman comes out here from Washington or the east, stays a summer on a reservation, goes back and writes a book on the Indians, a good deal of which is utterly worthless as history. It is harder every day to write intelligently of the real Indians. There is so much that is veneered on to him now, by residence with the white man that the original timber is almost unrecognizable. I shall never regret that I had the chance to see and associate with this race while they were much nearer real aborigines than at present. The human mind works pretty much the same way in the savage and the civilized; the motives are very similar the world over. You would hardly find an Omaha today that would stand in front of the agent or interpreter and beat his breasts and say, “Big Injun, me, four squaw, heap scalp, plenty horses, me chief Omaha.” And yet I have heard just that, and in a council each one would arise, walk round the circle, and recite his standing and record in the tribe. It is not the custom now, with Indians. At a white man’s pow-wow here in Lincoln just after the election, I observed that our young chiefs, our Webster and our Estabrook and others, did not beat their breasts;5 they did not walk around the circle and step before the head man; but according to a printed program they all in turn arose, bowed to the chairman, and then set forth in the best American they knew, what each one had done for his country, his city, and his tribe; and before they got through you unavoidably had the idea that they must be pretty big fellows at home. And each and every one announced in a loud voice the name of his tribe, it was “Republican.” Wherein does this differ materially in motive or machinery from an ancient wigwam conclave?

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The Indians have been divided respectively into the fishing and hunting tribes and the corn or crop-growing tribes, or by another authority the canoe and the boat Indians of the east, and the horse riding Indians of the Plains. Just now when hearing so much of the Sandwich Islanders, their early customs and morality, it may be remembered that of all savage races, the North American Indian worshiped one great invisible God, the Great Spirit over all. He never bowed down to idols; and all history bears testimony that they naturally were a brave and virtuous race, wherever uncorrupted by the Mietonga. For the rest, they were just like whites, some very remarkable characters and some very worthless Indians; some exceedingly truthful, proud of their name and character, and some too mean to despise. We trusted many for hundreds of dollars six months or a year — even after the right to go to the pay-table and collect was interdicted — and seldom was an account lost or denied. There are good Indians alive, or there were when I knew them. I hope the experiment of making them soldiers will not be abandoned without the fullest trial. Slaves you can never make of them, but soldiers you may, and it is in harmony with their race, their conditions, and former surroundings. Hark Back And now to our little colony a few moments again and I am done. That was an ideal summer; it was the purest democracy I ever saw; no man was above his neighbor, money made no difference for few had much and those that had could not buy the things most valuable, viz: help and aid physically, a good temper, the faculty of assisting to pass the time, or the ability to do something in behalf of the general welfare. It was the golden age of hospitality,

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for the latch string of every cabin hung outside. Without an officer of the law in our community, and no known code or written law, we lived a season in which there was no crime committed and no theft permitted. We made our laws and obeyed them. The bones of elks, antelope, deer, and buffalo were numerous on the prairie. It seems to me as if every forty acres must have had at least one skeleton or a portion of the remains of these animals. The heavy snow or the winter of 1856–57 wore the small game out or they starved, and the Indians and what white hunters there were caught them in drifts and cut their throats by thousands for their skins. Buffalo skulls could be picked up readily, and their “wallows” and trails were deep and many. The grass withered and dried up in summer, and it was a real question if this prairie was good for anything. This may sound foolish now, but you reflect that we had never any land not naturally covered with stones and trees, and of a different color and formation, will not seem ridiculous. We drove ten miles in a lumber wagon to see wheat growing on the bottom. A man had half an acre fenced in round his house and the wheat was really growing! All stock was turned loose on the prairie and could roam westward as far as it pleased. Our daily regret was that we had not stock enough to eat up the grass that went to waste, as we thought. An old friend came from the east to see me, and he returned, he told everybody for months, “Greatest country! Why, John took me in a buggy over a hundred miles and the wheels never struck a stone and you can plow a mile without turning round. Think of that!” Speaking of plowing furrow. In 1858 or ’59 David L. Collier got an act passed by the legislature for a road from Decatur to West Point and Columbus and to have a deep furrow

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plowed.6 S. Decatur J. E. Wilson, and C. Dunn were the Commissioners, and the work was done in the summer of ’60 as far as West Point, and it saved many a pilgrim from being lost. That was a furrow 30 miles long without turning round. Think of following a furrow now across otherwise trackless prairie; but the old “furrow road” was a real institution in its day.

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Snakes By the way it has often been a source of wonder what became of all the snakes a few years later. In 1857 you could not walk out in any direction without seeing or hearing a rattler-Massasauga. Big blow snakes abounded. We never opened the stable doors mornings without carefully looking to see that his snakeship was not curled up in the litter ready to strike. Two of us killed forty in one afternoon. One Fourth of July we picnicked on the reservation. Just as clean cloth was spread on the grass for the dishes, a fierce battle was heard in the center and the ladies tumbled backward in affright while Decatur clubbed a ten-year-old shake-tail to death. Bull snakes crawled up the logs of a cabin to a bedroom window, and curled round the bedpost to the horror of a maiden lady who woke up one morning to greet such a visitor! Another lady was mixing dough, when a snake dropped from a scantling into the bread-trough. The first thing in laying out the foundation of a new cabin was to mow half an acre grass, close, round the site, so we could see the snakes. They seemed ubiquitous. An odd genius kept a bull snake around the house; would not let the women or children kill it; said it caught flies and toads and hurt nobody. The snake hid under the logs and would only come out when the old man was about the place. One day Mr. Snake crawled out and stretched himself in the

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sun just under the rockers of a chair. The woman came in tired, pushed her sunbonnet up, threw herself in the chair, and leaned back heavy. There was a squash, a hiss, a mess, and old man’s pet was gone forever. Where did they all go to? Ask the philosopher who has accounted for the grasshoppers.

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Whiskey Along with snakes naturally comes whiskey. It was nearly as free as water. It only cost 18 to 20 cents a gallon in St. Louis, and there were no license laws, no restriction on any one selling or giving it away, no society bans, nothing but your own good sense of right and the strength of your constitution to prevent drinking any amount of the stuff. An old fellow lived in a log cabin half way to Ashton, a keg of whiskey and a tin cup stood in the corner, always free; if the old man wasn’t home, all you had to do was to help yourself. On the road every one carried a jug or a bottle, for the snakes were really bad, you know. I did an odd thing once. While the temperance excitement was at its height in this state, many arguments were made regarding restrictions selling liquor, and many disputes as to whether man would drink more if it was cheap and plenty, or no restriction legal or otherwise on its use. I happened to think of the conditions surrounding this early Nebraska colony in this respect, and I wrote down one hundred names of those I had known there or up and down the river, exposed to the same state of affairs, and then traced their careers out as far as possible, to see the effects in after life of the license and liberty of their earlier portion. Here is the result: out of the one hundred persons, twenty-eight were dead when I made the figures, eight were lost, but I had a knowledge of them for some

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years after the date named or up to middle age, when their habits would be fixed and in the whole lot, as far as I kept track, only six could have been said to be hard drinkers in after life. Two of these had great family troubles that might have driven them to drink; three more straightened up and are living or have died sober men; a few more may have shortened their lives, or at one time injured their business prospects, but only one could be said to have made a complete and total wreck of himself on account of drinking or other vices. Though mostly young men then, several were middle-aged and brought their drinking habits with them. Two of these sobered up almost entirely before they died. So far as I can ascertain, not one was ever under the ban of the law for any vice or crime. I do not know as these figures have any value; only that of the Decatur lot proper I had to take every man there was at the time, and there could be no picking and choosing to make a showing one way or another. Some years after I came across the names again, and it struck me to use them for a totally different set of facts or theories, as you may choose to call it. Out of this one hundred, six were minors. One poor fellow committed suicide, one lives in San Diego, Cal., in the telephone business, one is in railroad work in Chicago, one died assistant postmaster of Omaha, one took an Indian wife and became a trader and U.S. interpreter among the Omahas; his son is a lawyer up country now. Seventy-four I call my own group; that is, they belonged to the Decatur colony proper; sixteen came to Omaha and live or have died there; ten scattered out on farms along the road or about Tekama; two are at West Point. Of the one hundred, one died mayor of Council Bluffs, there was one congressman from Nebraska, one territorial legislator, and one United States senator. Two have

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been on the district bench, four turned out good doctors, four were lawyers, including the two judges, and two were editors, one at least of whom became quite famous, none became immensely wealthy, that is, up in the millions; of the seventy-four, only four became what you might call wealthy, as wealth goes now, and they made the money after leaving Nebraska, in Colorado and further west. Those who lived at or came to Omaha, every man of them got rich, some running up into the hundreds of thousands. In justice to my old comrades at Deactur, I must say they were just as smart apparently as these fellows; in fact it was considered a very intelligent colony, so I came to the conclusion that environment, opportunity, has more to do with getting wealth than brains, education, or good morals; or you may say that the possession of brains, education, and good habits does not insure any person riches [in] this country. Here it simply illustrates the difference between settling in a growing town that became a city and remaining in a village. Those in Omaha obtained riches mostly by land property, rather than through ability or even better business habits. Though several were soldiers afterwards, captain was the highest rank any attained, I believe. Twelve lived or died poor, and to my knowledge six died or are living now without a roof of their own over their heads, or a foot of land in Nebraska, when they had the whole prairie to choose from once. Take eight out of the hundred — two Frenchman, two who could not read and write, and four more who had a very meager education or advantages — and leaves ninety-two starting out in life very nearly equal, for none had any great amount of money, and if some had a little more than others, those others had a better education, or better health, or some mechanical ability, so that as far as the human eye could see judgment go, one was

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just as likely to succeed as another; and each and every one had the whole world this side the Rockies to choose from. Look at the result twenty-five years after. Sixteen go to a thriving, growing town and all succeed; four leave for the gold and silver region and do the same; those that stuck by their first love, or wandered back east again, are left either poor or with a moderate amount of this world’s pelf. Fifty-nine live in the state now, or have died there; the rest are scattered to the four winds of the earth. One curious circumstance a friend noticed of the entire number that came to Decatur in ’57–8, those who brought any money with them left the town or died there broke; those who came with no money were the only ones who ever made any there. Few of this particular party came here to farm, but it is a fact that of those who scattered out along the road or the bottoms and became farmers, every one gained a competency and a good home to live or die in; and some after a number of years of successful farming “moved to town,” became bankers or large stock dealers, and are rich today. It was entirely of those who tried some mechanical employment, or drifted into clerkships, or politics, that represent the poorer ones; bear this in mind when any one says that farming don’t pay. How some of our Omaha friends made money is easy to be seen. The original town and ferry company at Decatur were: Peter A. Sarpy, B. R. Folsom, Jno. B. Folsom, Jones of New York, Enos Lowe of Omaha, Tootle and Jackson, Hellman, T. H. Hinman, and Herman Glass. Nowadays the natural money-maker strikes for a street car line and an electric or gas franchise; then the thing to freeze on to was the town and ferry privilege, and the men who owned a good ferry on the Missouri in an early days had a bonanza equal to a gas factory now.

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In this time, silver had been at a premium, gold at 240; greenbacks triumphant. Wheat, $2.50 a bushel on the banks of the Missouri; corn, $1.00 a bushel for feed and $1.50 for seed; and again silver at a discount, gold and greenbacks worth a dollar, one hundred cents, no more, no less, wheat as low as thirty-five cents, and I have burned bushels of corn at 15, 12 ½ and even as low as 10 cents a bushel. I have seen land go begging at $1.25 per acre; and sell for thousands of dollars per acre, or hundreds per front foot. Freights have been 3 to 5 cents a pound for the distance of 100 miles, or less, and at ½ cent per ton per mile. A man and team have earned $5.00 to $8.00 per day of long hours. In these thirty odd years there has been a low tariff and very high tariffs, and yet some got poor and some got rich all at the same time. The constitution and fundamental laws have been about the same, so that we must conclude that no change of more laws, no tariff, no particular kind of currency can make all the people rich all the time; nor can they make them all poor all the time, but under any laws and any conditions, some are bound to be rich part of the time, and some poor part of the time. A man’s own exertions and his environments create his success or nonsuccess. These sturdy, earlier settlers that have succeeded and made this broad prairie blossom as a rose, who solved the problem whether Nebraska would grow wheat and corn and fruit, did not “holler” for the government to help make the grass grow, abolish snakes, or even rid them of the bugs and grasshoppers. They did not ask to have wheat made a dollar a bushel by statute, and yet they are here, many of them, sassy fat and hearty, living in their own homes with money in the bank, and their children growing up about them in peace and plenty. It is a later newer edition who seem disposed to turn, like wards of the

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nation, to the Great Father at Washington for everything, and who seem to think that government (which should be themselves) can make up for shiftlessness, ignorance, bad invests, or even the losses and defects resulting from natural causes — by simply passing or “repealing” a law. The best, the truest function of a wise government is to protect life and property, to see that all are equal under the law, every man gets what he really earns — and “hands off” as far as the rest goes. The real law of supply and demand as our presidents here has so often said, fixes the price of produce and stock and will regulate freight rates in the end. It determines the value of your money, and no legislative, nor judge-made law can ever subdue or alter this fact, and it is about the only real solid fact that Adam Smith or any other political economist laid down that has thoroughly stood the test of “the times.” Friends, perhaps I have wearied you. Let us say this to close: while I have not been of the most lucky or fortunate of these early centurions, I have seen a great state grow up before my eyes, made out of nothing but dirt, brains, and work. None of us will ever see the like again. It cannot be duplicated now or perhaps ever; not that there will be no new states after us, but the same conditions will not prevail. It will take time, money, artificial resources to make the states that are to come. This is the last state where nature laid herself out to furnish a climate, soil, and surroundings, wherein the sons of men could make homes with the least toil, the least expenditure of either time or pre-created wealth. Of no future state, just as it lies out doors, without artificial aid, will it again be said: “Tickle the land with a hoe and the crop laughs to the harvest.” Glad am I that I had some small part in the making of such a state, and

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whatever fortune has in store for me, I shall rest in patience content in that, until I am visited by “the exterminator of delights, and the Separator of companions.”

David M. Johnson came to Nebraska Territory in 1854. He served in the first House of Representatives and was a colonel in the territorial militia. He moved to Kansas where he spent most of his life. Johnson died at Kansas City, Missouri, in 1909, just one year after submitting his article to the Nebraska State Historical Society.7

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Nebraska in the Fifties david m. johnson Soon after Secretary of State Cuming became acting governor of the Territory of Nebraska,8 he issued a proclamation for an election to take place December 12, 1854, to elect one delegate to Congress and twenty-six members of the House of Representatives and thirteen members of the Council.9 There were four candidates who hoped to represent the new territory in Congress; Bird B. Chapman of Ohio, Hadley D. Johnson of Iowa, Napoleon B. Giddings of Missouri, and myself of St. Joseph.10 I procured a mule, saddle, bridle, and a pair of spurs and thus equipped, in November 1854, something after the fashion of the knights of old, started to seek my political fortunes in the new territory. Here the issue was the location of the capital. Two places were candidates for this honor, and the waters of the Platte separated the interests and votes of the contestants. As but few voters were living in the territory at this time, the canvass by common consent, was transferred to the

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populous settlements on the east bank of the Missouri River in the states of Iowa and Missouri. My journey along the east bank of the Missouri was a lonely one, but I was cheered and animated by the pleasing fancies of hope that pictured in the near future the reward of solid greatness and congressional honors. I crossed the Missouri at a place called Bennet’s Ford and entered the territory for the first time in November 1854.11 Around spread the silent forest stripped of its foliage, and the grass at my feet bore the somber tint of decay. I had traveled but a short distance when I heard the sound from a ravine a few rods away. My mind for a few moments threw off the gloom that had settled upon it, and the prospect for making my first stump speech was at hand. But imagine my surprise and disgust when I found my prospective audience to be a score of Indians feasting on a slaughtered hog. Now I discovered my mistake in not having acquired some knowledge of the Indian language before venturing into the new country. However, I pushed forward on my patient and jaded mule for old Fort Kearny, and as I ascended the bluffs that overlooked the Missouri River, I saw to my surprise and pleasure a short distance ahead a log house, which proved to be the dwelling of a white man. I stopped, and the woman of the house invited me in, but to my surprise I found about a dozen Indians who were seated on the floor eying with close attention the cook stove in the center of the room. The cheerful fire was very comforting to my limbs, and a frying pan full of meat sent forth an appetizing odor. While the woman, young and sandy haired, was kneading bread at a small table with her back to the stove, an Indian would slip up, snatch a piece of meat from the pan, hide it under his blanket, and retire from the house

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to devour his prize. This was repeated several times by the Indians before the unsuspecting eye of hostess caught one of them in the very act, with his hand on the meat. In a moment she was in a storm of passion, and springing toward them ordered them out of the house. This was a trying time to me, and for a few moments my mind was filled with horrible pictures of Indian barbarities. But the brave little woman stood her ground with firmness, armed with a broom, and at last called on me to help her. I put on a brave front and, with as stern a look as I could assume and in a voice choked with fear, shouted the only Indian word I knew, when to my great astonishment and relief the thieves left the house and retired to their camp a short distance away. After eating dinner with my hospitable hostess I continued my journey to Fort Kearny and arrived there without further adventure. I stayed all night with a Major Downs who had been in the regular army, in the old blockhouse which he had converted into a hotel, and this, with the dismantled fort and five or six other buildings, constituted the town, which under the name of Nebraska City had recently been started by S. F. Nuckolls and some others.12 Next morning I met a few friends and showed them my letters and revealed to them the object of [my] visit. My next stop was at Omaha, the place selected by the governor for the meeting of the first legislature of the territory. Omaha at this time was simply a name; there were only one or two houses, but the site was beautiful and the town soon commenced growing rapidly. At the time of my first visit I stayed all night on the town site and was kindly entertained by one of the proprietors, a Mr. Goodwell, at his home, a dugout, which he called “a hole in the ground No. 6.” We played euchre and old sledge till a late hour.

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The next morning I started back to old Fort Kearny and the southern part of the territory. I found a few settlers on Muddy Creek, now in Richardson County. Here I selected a claim for my home. This was a very beautiful and attractive country, well watered and wooded, with a soil unsurpassed in fertility and supporting heavy and luxuriant grasses. Having seen the voters in Richardson County, about thirty in all, I crossed the river to try my hand at electioneering in Missouri and Iowa. Here I met with splendid success, for I had enough votes promised me to beat all my competitors in the race, and the voters promised to be on hand on the day of election. But how uncertain are all the affairs of human life. On my way back I found that the Missouri was too dangerous to cross; it was full almost from bank to bank, and logs, trees, and ice floated down in wild confusion. No boat could be found to take me across; and now, standing on the east bank of the swollen stream, my patient mule by my side, for the first time I saw in the distance the horrible picture of defeat. However, in a few days I was able to cross, and saw my Richardson County friends. Then I started for Nebraska City; but again I found myself water bound by a freshet in the Nemaha. My long absence from Nebraska City was construed into a withdrawal from the race, and with this rumor my hopes for Congress expired. This was but a few days before the election, and my friends on Muddy Creek put me on the track for membership of the House of Representatives of the territory and I was elected. My election was celebrated, in the old-fashioned way, by a big dance. A boy on a fleet horse, with two empty jugs and fifty cents, was dispatched to Missouri and instructed to return with all possible haste. A log cabin twelve by fifteen feet, situated on the bank of the Muddy, near a beautiful

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grove, was the scene of festivities. One corner of the room was selected by the judge of election to count the votes, while the remainder was devoted to the dance, and an oldfashioned fireplace furnished both light and heat for the occasion. Seven couples occupied the floor and marched to the music of the violin. The harmony of the dance was not interrupted until our messenger returned with the jugs and then only long enough to give the men time to inspect their contents. The revelry continued until a late hour, and its pleasures were terminated only by exhaustion of our supplies. The images of these good old days are still bright on the canvas of our memory, and furnish thought for amusement and reflection; and, though distance of over fifty years separates us from scenes I am describing, a faithful memory ever will retain the joy I felt at my election. This distinguished honor in a great measure healed the wounds of my defeat for Congress, and I cheerfully obeyed the call of the governor to take my seat in the first Nebraska legislature. This met at Omaha, January 16, 1855, with a full House and Council, and nearly every state in the Union was represented in that legislative body. Our meetings were held in a small brick building of two stories with an office for the governor on the first floor. Omaha then had less than a dozen houses, the greater number of which were saloons, but new ones were going up all the time, and the place was a scene of bustle and activity. The hotel, the Douglas House, landlord Mr. Wells was besieged by impatient legislators before it was completed, and in spite of the cold the unplastered rooms were soon filled. Here Governor Cuming and his wife had rooms, the best in the house. In the legislature the great issue was the location of the capital of the new territory. Nebraska City on the south of

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the Platte and Omaha on the north were contending with great zeal for the prize, but not with equal success, for Omaha after a hard struggle was victorious and started on the road to prosperity and greatness. As very few of the members had been in the territory more than a few days prior to the election, it was amusing to hear them in the heat of debate address one another as “the gentleman from New York,” “the gentleman from Iowa,” or some state. The governor had divided the territory along river into counties and had given them names, and the members claimed to live in those counties and to represent them but no serious difficulty arose from this fact, for by general consent the question of settlement was not raised in any other way than what I have stated. Among those who came to claim their seats was J. Sterling Morton, who was then a young man. I prosecuted his claim before the legislature but was unsuccessful, and Mr. Morton was compelled to retire, though he and his wife remained in Omaha during most of the session. I claimed that the legislature had the right to go back to the returns and count the votes in disputed territory, but the legislature did not uphold my view. The first lawsuit in Nebraska was before a justice of the peace and came about as follows: The landlord of the Douglas House, Mr. Wells, had been robbed of a half cheese, and two men were charged with the crime. At this time no courts had been legally provided for and no criminal laws been enacted. The governor had been frequently importuned by a political friend of his living in Iowa to appoint him a justice of the peace for Omaha, so, partly as a joke and partly to free himself of the importunity, the appointment was made. Armed with his Iowa statutes, the justice opened an office and litigation was not long coming. Wells

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filed a complaint against two men suspected of stealing his cheese, who were arrested and brought before the pretended justice for trial. They employed me to defend them, and the owner of the cheese appeared for the territory. When the case was called for trial the defendants demanded a jury, and though the judicial mind was not clear on that point, a jury was ordered by virtue of the Iowa statute. But now another difficulty still more serious than the first presented itself. There were few people in the county, and no statute [had] been passed prescribing qualifications for jurors. However, it was agreed, finally, to select the jury from the members of the legislature, and accordingly they were sworn with all due solemnity under the laws of Iowa, and the trial proceeded, being held in the office of the Douglas House. The landlord, who was both prosecuting attorney and plaintiff, introduced his evidence and proved charge beyond all doubt. But the defendants challenge the authority of the governor to appoint the justice and denied his right to try the case. The justice had maintained the dignity of his court up to this time, with great propriety, but this was too much for him, and he flew into a most injudicial rage; but an apology from the defendants’ counsel somewhat appeased his anger, the motion was overruled and jurisdiction sustained. The defendants, through their counsel, now asked for a subpoena for the governor. After some dispute as to whether a governor could be lawfully subpoenaed, he appeared and testified that he thought he had no right to appoint a justice of the peace; but, nevertheless the justice held that he had a right to try the case and sent it to the jury, who, after a short time, returned a verdict of not guilty. Now the prosecuting witness and landlord flew into a rage and furiously ordered the jury out of his house. This was a

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sore turn of the trial, for most of the jurors were boarders at the hotel, just opened, and there was no other boarding house in the town large enough to accommodate them. Finally, by the persuasion of friends, the landlord relented, and thus ended the first lawsuit in Nebraska. It was whispered that some members of the legislative assembly had no constituents in the counties which they claimed to represent; and a report was current that one member took a few men in a two-horse wagon and went into the territory some ten or fifteen miles and then stopped and held the election in the wagon, not knowing whether or not he was even within the county he claimed to represent. However, no one challenged his right to his seat, and he was an excellent member. The country was full of emigrants and speculators and many members owned or had an interest in town sites which existed on paper and nowhere else, but which they were exceedingly anxious to sell to strangers. With the purpose of expediting the sale of his shares in town sites one member got up a turkey roast and invited the governor, his wife, and myself, with a few other friends, to his boarding house to share the treat. He claimed that the turkey was killed on his town site; and we all agreed to praise it and boom his town site to the best of our ability. Accordingly, when the dinner was served, quite a number of strangers being seated at the long table, the governor said: “General, the turkey is excellent; where did it come from?” The general replied: “It was killed on the town site by one of my constituents and presented to me.” The truth was the turkey was killed in Iowa and sent to him by a friend. There was a member of the house whose seat was near a west window which gave him a good view of what was going on in the town. A new saloon was opened nearly

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every day, and the custom was to treat at the opening. When this member from his post of observation saw the proprietor of the saloon come out and hang up his signal that he was ready for business, this signal being usually a red flannel shirt, there being no signs or sign painters in Omaha, he would say, “Mr. Speaker, I move we adjourn for recess”; and of course the motion was seconded, and then most of the members would hasten to enjoy the hospitality of the new saloon. In a few minutes all resumed their seats and were ready for business. While a great many amusing things happened during the session, it passed a wise code of laws and laid the foundation of the future prosperity of a great state. Occasionally the legislative halls were brightened by women from Council Bluffs and from the nearby Presbyterian mission of Bellevue. Mrs. Cuming, wife of the governor, was a beautiful and charming woman, and I can recall, even at this distance of time, delightful evenings spent with a few choice friends in her parlor at the hotel. A distance of over half a century has effaced from my memory many other incidents of those early days.

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It seems C. Irvine has eluded the historical records; no biographical information could be found.

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Recollections of Omaha, 1855–61 c. irvine I arrived at Omaha on the second trip there by the steamer so named, in the spring of 1855, forty-three years ago, and it seems like yesterday.13 V. Berkley, A. M. Snyder, and Theo. Dodge were among the passengers with whom I became intimate. Parker, the United States land register, was along. It had been raining very hard for a few days, cleared off warm the morning we arrived, a lovely May morning. I remember seeing Captain Moore and Wm. Clancey standing conspicuously on the town site not far from the Apex saloon, kept by Kimball, and pointing out city lots to new arrivals. One of our passengers, a German, had bought a lot in Omaha from some speculator on board for about $400. It was not far from the Douglas House towards the river. It was part of a ravine, “a hole in the ground,” and he made an awful fuss. We all sided with him, saying it was a perfect swindle. “The price was awful for a mere hole in the ground,” was the general opinion, so green were we newcomers on western lot speculations. My recollection is that the man or some other one, got $800 for the hole soon after. [George M.] Mills was running the Douglas House and taking in more money than everybody else, as prices for rooms were very high. August Kountze, who was a passenger, and myself occupied adjoining “rooms,” as we called our beds, and many laid on the floor.14 Snyder had his wife and a colored nurse girl, a slave, along, and the cost of living seared him. He proposed that Dodd, himself,

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and I should make an expedition towards DeSoto, the most ambitious city after Omaha then in the territory. It was right on the river and “had a permanent landing.” It was exactly “opposite the great north bend of the Platte,” therefore sure to be a railroad terminus. We wandered along on foot for some distance accompanied by a lot of Indians. These were escorting a white girl, who rode a pony and seemed to belong to them. Footsore and weary, we by sundown found a man named Judge McDonald “holding a claim” in the high grass, who pointed us to Fort Calhoun, where we could be lodged. By dusk we got there. There were but two or three cabins on the whole town site. A large double cabin with an upstairs was the hotel, kept by George Stevens.15 Well, we had a good supper and rested, and were refreshed. Old Mr. Mather, the father of Mrs. Stevens, his wife, and son Ed, a young man, were members of the household. Mrs. Stevens, a kind lady and splendid housekeeper, made it like home. In pleasant converse the evening was passed. In the morning we admired the exceeding beauty of the situation. In truth there are no lovelier landscapes than all along the Missouri River, and right there was one of the most glorious scenes eye ever beheld as nature left it. We went up to DeSoto, greatly disappointing the friends we had made, who hoped to retain us as citizens of Fort Calhoun. We were greatly disappointed at DeSoto, a cluster of cabins in a hollow by the river. We found nobody, and nothing there to invite us. One kept the hotel and Bill Clancey ran the town, though he lived mostly at Omaha.16 There was a place called Cuming City after Secretary of State Cuming, a few miles above on a fine site, but far from the river. Jim Stewart, a prominent citizen there, I soon after made acquaintance with.17 Both the places have departed the earth, and their very sites have been forgotten. The river

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is now miles away from where DeSoto was, as it once was where Fort Calhoun now is. Returning, we stopped again at Fort Calhoun, and when I left the next morning I promised to come back and live there, as I was perfectly sick of the wretched accommodations, the crowds, and dissipations of Omaha. I had no idea that Omaha would ever become of much account. In fact there were fifty town sites equally ambitious. So I returned to Fort Calhoun and took up my residence with the Stevens family. Amid their primitive times and ways, I never enjoyed my life more. We were all contented, hopeful, and equal. About a dozen more houses were put up there that season and a good saw mill by one B. F. Littell with Alonzo Perkins and old man Allen.18 Lumber was in such demand that many teams from even near Omaha would be seen waiting for their turn to be laden. At one time cottonwood brought $150 per thousand. These men got their logs right around them at no cost whatever for one stick — mill right in the vast woods of the bottoms — and yet ran in debt, rarely paid their hands, and just hobbled along. Bad management. At that time E. H. Warner, a young man, general laborer was laying the foundations of a large business and fortune by his industry and good sense. He worked at the mill, had a land claim, and sold out when the crash came. He went to St. Louis in 1859, or about then, and with his experience in timber acquired as a work hand, he soon became so necessary to the lumber house there for which he worked that, to keep him, a partnership was proposed. Mr. Warner is now one of the wealthiest citizens of St. Louis. His residence, opposite the waterworks, is a fortune in itself. The chief business of everybody was claim taking under a rascally act of the legislature permitting us to mark

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out half-sections as claims instead of quarter sections as provided by Congress; and to purchase as many claims as we could. Strangers entering our country later with lawful designs were surprised often to find old ragamuffins waving their arms over thousands of acres of the desirable lands as their own, and were often obliged to pay enormous prices for a spot to settle on. But under this system of yielding all to speculation we have literally wasted the heritage of future generations. Not a thing is left for those who come after us. People traded in claims (320 acres) and city lots as elsewhere they did in horses, niggers, etc. And indeed town shares and claims duly recorded in Nebraska were largely traded over the river in Iowa for cattle, flour, etc., whisky, too. As lands were not in market, money was abundant, and labor was the dearest thing and most desirable. A Mr. Kuony and wife, two Swiss people, he acted as hostler, she as chambermaid, at Stevens’s house, and he, by simply sticking to whatever came to him, amassed a large fortune, whereas all the high-flyers went under for good. I remember when standing in the road before the “hotel” and stopping tramps as they went by with wallets on back, soliciting them to stop at Fort Calhoun, being laughed at by A. S. Paddock, a writer and boarder. “What good will such men be?” “Of more use, one of them, than you and I, and a hundred more like us,” I said. “Labor is what we need.” Often these tramps would say, “At DeSoto they give a man a lot if he settles there.” “We give you two,” I said, and often got a settler thus, who built a house, and that was more than a regiment of us tender-fingered gentry ever did. The great mill put up at Fort Calhoun was gotten there in just that kind of a way. A young Van Lear of Montreal, Canada, was induced to stop and bunk with some fellow

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in the bottom all winter. This led to his selecting Fort Calhoun as the place for the mill, afterwards owned by Elam Clarke.19 I remember one day meeting a fellow on a pony far down in the bottom miles away from the town site. It was early spring. He called out: “I say, stranger, is there a place called Fort Calhoun anywhere about?” “Yes,” and I pointed the direction. “Do you know any such person as Van Lear?” “Yes. He lives about here. I think you will find him at or near the saw mill.” “What does he do?” “Nothing but hunt. He is waiting for a flour mill to arrive here.” “Well, I swear, I never believed it. I told the captain that there must be some mistake about the direction. You see, it’s on our boat, which has just landed over there. No road, no landing, no sign of human being, so I got on our pony and rode this way, and was just about to give it all up.” The result was he went and found Van Lear, who had no money to pay the freight charges, $1,500. It was the greatest flour mill ever brought up the Missouri River then, and I think it was Van Lear’s share out of an estate. Nobody but Elam Clarke had money enough to pay the freight, and Van mortgaged it, borrowing at about 30 percent and losing the whole thing after years of struggling. O! When will we have a government that will protect its wretched, struggling people, its most necessary citizens against loss of homesteads, and by abundant supplies of money at a half percent interest? But the government must not compete against individuals. About four centuries ago the Swiss of Appenzell all started a government under which every family should have an inalienable homestead, non-taxable,

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and money enough was provided to keep interest nominal. Under these simple preventatives not one homeless family or destitute person has ever been known. Some are very rich; none are poor, and a writer in the Atlantic Monthly of August 1869 says every family lives in what we would call palaces. Who of us that helped settle Nebraska and saw our first equal society so happy under real hardships because we were equal and hopeful, and saw so soon enormous wealth develop on one side with enormous poverty on the other, is not able to see the causes of idleness and poverty, those parents of all crime? Our little society soon witnessed deeds of violence and murder, begotten of that greed for claims created by scandalous acts of territorial legislatures — acts made contrary, also, to the supreme law of the land. The town site of Fort Calhoun was “jumped” by a DeSoto man — the jealousy against Fort Calhoun growing out of its being the county seat. Davis, the jumper, took his place in an old cabin by the river bluffs, a remnant of the old fort itself — the place being the original Council Bluff.20 The river with its surrounding bluffs, enclosing a vast amphitheater some twenty or more miles in diameter, and the Indian name, we were told, signifies “the Council Bluffs.” By the way, the Indians told me that Omaha means “Against Current.” A tribe of lower Missouri dividing — one part going “Omaha” against current, the other “Nemaha,” with the current. Well, Davis was surrounded by the Fort Calhoun town speculators. Some began firing — he shot one dead and badly wounded another, and then the surrounders dispersed — carrying their dead and wounded with them to Council Bluffs where they belonged. Davis got away somehow and matters were settled.21 There were several murders on account of claim jumping — the jumpers often proceeding under the United States preemption

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act, giving 160 acres, while claims were 320 acres under club law and as much as one could buy. The first building called a court house ever put up in Nebraska was erected at Fort Calhoun about July 1856. Elsewhere buildings were used for courts, but this was the first building designed and built for that sole distinct purpose, and I helped raise it. When done, we had a few remarks on the occasion, after our American custom, to the effect that “We here, a few pioneers, were laying the foundations of empire, and humble as were our beginnings, some of us might live to see these lovely landscapes now resting under the adornments of nature, crowded with industrious populations and dotted everywhere with cities, towns, splendid villages, and with temples towering toward the heavens of the everlasting God.” These remarks were made by the venerable Mr. Mather, a splendid old man of antique type, in whose company I ever took great delight — the father of Mrs. Stevens and grandfather of Mrs. Mary Runyon of Council Bluffs. Snyder and Dodge or Dodds, went into banking and real estate. When the war broke out Theodore Dodds enlisted and was captain of a Colorado company, and was very soon killed in a fight in which he displayed marvelous courage. Snyder went to Oregon. The way men drank then and there, who drank at all, was a caution. I observe every soul of them died in a little time. For two or three years they looked well and were very gay — then bloating, they rapidly broke down. A couple of high governmental officials invited me to ride with them over to Council Bluffs from Omaha. We must take a “nip” at the hotel bar before starting. At the crowded bar the rule was “fire and fall back” for room for others. Once in our carriage the bar assistant was ordered to bring out three drinks. Going a block, General ordered a halt and

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more drinks. “Isn’t this loading rather fast, General?” I asked. “Silence in ranks. Obey orders,” was the reply. And so on at every opportunity, and they were numerous, and then at the “Half Way House,” and then at a house where a sign said, “The Last Chance,” at the ferry, and when across, “The First Chance” met our eyes, then another “Half Way House” on the way to Council Bluffs, and then a drug store at the entrance, near old Pacific House kept by Bayliss, whose brother, old Major Bayliss, was a character — an old Virginia gentleman and bachelor. “How are you, Major?” “Tip top, sah, tip top! How do you like my style, sah?” These sayings of his were by-words. Long before reaching the drug store I was obliged to evade, throw away, hide, etc., and my friends were too much occupied to notice. But I left on plea of business, and seeking for them next morning, I tracked them from “groceree to groceri,” far up town, where I found the general on a high table, playing at a violin, amusing a half-drunken crowd, and was assured that he had made his way from place to place all night long. When I proposed to return home, he cried out, “Not yet, my lad! We are going to make a night of it.” So then I left and got back by the best means I could. It seemed to me that for two years life among these Omaha fellows was a constant spree, and more because of that, foreseeing the consequences, did I retire to Fort Calhoun. All the money on earth can not compensate for a broken constitution — and unless I could have found some church, joined it, and lived under the sanctuary, I knew the society of Omaha would ruin me. We had men “from all parts of earth and some of the South Sea Islands, too,” even at Fort Calhoun, before six months. And we had as bright and splendid examples of manhood as ever were to be found

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at Omaha and vicinity — man who had been everywhere, seen everything, able to do everything, and had legislation been for the human race instead of for private greed, there had been the grandest chance for its display. But, then, there was “that sum of all villainies, slavery,” to be wiped out first, and why talk of it? We have inherited from mother England some sore diseases, and much of the rot of orientalism — a leprous defilement whose subjects may require our entire continent for their isolation. We had six banks for our little population of less than six thousand — banks of issue — and money was plentiful until the crash of 1857.22 I have never believed that panic came to us from our speculation. We of the United States, after a long spell of bad times from 1837 up to 1850, had barely begun a career of prosperity that promised to last. Railroad building had just been projected, and the whole country west of the Mississippi River was just opening up to immigration. Nothing done, everything just ready for doing, when a sudden call on the Ohio Life and Trust Company for a paltry fifteen millions of gold closed as by magic every business house in the United States for a few months. Cotton, selling at 15 cents, fell to just anything the planter could get in gold, no silver, all paper on specie basis, yet California pouring out fifty millions per year. It is now known that the panic here was made by our British customers to put down cotton at the very time it was coming to market. It did so, and as soon as they had loaded up they left us to get out. But the evil on Nebraska was lasting and terrible. All our bright prospects vanished in one hour, and we lost half of our most energetic citizens. The winter of 1856–57, ushered in by a deep snow about December 1 of nearly four feet, ending with a blizzard, was long and severe. Many of us had never seen a blizzard and

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nearly lost our lives by exposure. At one time the mercury at Fort Calhoun stood forty degrees below zero, and the south wind coming on to blow a furious gale with the mercury at 25 degrees below zero all day, we had such a time as is rarely felt. Snow blew several inches deep into most houses, yet we were all jolly and in high spirits, looking for a big immigration, and yet your vile immigration laws keeping it out. The Indians wandered up and down in large numbers and had plenty of meat from the dead cattle lying around. Wolves, too, were abundant, and deer would not get out of our path to walk on the crusted snow that broke and cut their legs. Hundreds were thus killed by a blow from a club, and for a time venison was about our whole living. Gangs of large gray, black, and brown wolves would cross right over the town site, and several times I have almost met them right on the ridge just back of the old tavern stand. The last time I ever saw the buffalo we were about fifty miles west of the river, and there seemed to be millions, as far as the eye could reach extended the moving crowd, and it took days in moving south. I left Nebraska on account of the panic and came to Missouri here at Oregon, Holt County. What a wonderful difference in climate that hundred miles makes! One anecdote and I am through. It is to show on what trifles our whole destiny may depend. One day in the summer of 1857, a lot of us Fort Calhounites had started homeward from Omaha, where we had been visiting. As we drove along some one proposed we should stop to go into a saloon under the old Exchange Bank. Others opposed it, but finally we stopped. In the saloon was a man by the name of Grant, electioneering for Col. [John M.] Thayer for Congress. I told him Thayer was my man, as he was the only anti-Nebraska bill democrat running. “Let

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me introduce you and we will fix things.” An introduction followed. I agreed to work for Thayer. I arranged how we should carry Washington County unanimously for him. I was to pretend to oppose him bitterly and that would fix about two-thirds — my enemies — for him. And I had only to whisper to my friends. This indirect way puzzled Thayer, but I assured him it would work. Then I went to work doing all I could for him south of Platte, going up and down on steamboats and other ways. Thayer was beaten, but our county went almost to a man for him. In electioneering I made many acquaintances and friends, so when I left Nebraska, being ill, I concluded to stop here (Oregon) for a day or two before going down into Arkansas. I never dreamed of staying here. I was in low spirits, glad no one knew me, in my reversed fortunes. But I saw there was some money here, gold, and considerable traffic. As I walked out, the first person I met was a gentleman I had learned to know while electioneering for Thayer. He recognized me forthwith and introduced me to all the people we met on the street, and nothing would do but I must stop here and open out a law office. He assured me plenty of business. All the people I met were equally urgent. I finally did so and soon had a thriving business. But for having met Thayer I never had made the man’s acquaintance. Early in 1861, as I was going up to Nebraska on a boat, Lincoln’s new governor was aboard.23 We became well acquainted. Learning I was an old settler, he very earnestly asked me who was a fit man for him to make the Colonel of the First regiment, then forming. I assured him that there was but one man who had the least pretensions to military skill or love of military life, and that was John M. Thayer, and gave him several reasons why. The governor said that there were about fifty applicants. I saw a white

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haired pimple-faced youth standing near, with long hair, who did not like the talk. He was the private secretary, and someone had soothed that itching palm. When we arrived, the first man I met was Thayer, who asked me if I knew the coming governor, and to say a word for him. I told him to keep away from me, not be seen talking with me, as I had fixed it, I believed. In fact, the governor had said he would appoint that man I had spoken about. And he did so. So you see how our fates hinge on mere trifles.

William Wallace Cox was born on November 12, 1832, in New York state. He spent his childhood in Illinois and Wisconsin and then attended Oberlin College in Ohio. Cox moved to Nebraska City in 1860, where he was employed as a carpenter. Two years later he opened a salt evaporation plant near Lincoln, Nebraska. Later he moved to Seward County, Nebraska, where he was in the grain business. In 1888 he published History of Seward County, Nebraska, together with a chapter of reminiscences of the early settlement of Lancaster County (Lincoln NE: State Journal Co., 1888). Cox died on February 25, 1907.24

Reminiscences of Early Days in Nebraska william w. cox In the early autumn of 1859, in company with Robert Hopps (now and for nearly a quarter of a century, a resident of Nebraska City), and two or three other gentlemen, I started from Page County, Iowa, with the determination of seeing the new and promised land of Nebraska.25 Passing over the vast stretches of undulating prairie wilderness, watered by

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the East and West Tarkio, and the two Nishnabatona, we reached Sidney [Iowa], the county seat of Fremont County, at noon of the second day. Here we had the pleasure of hearing a discussion of the political issues of that interesting period of our history, by the candidate for governor of Iowa, General [Grenville] Dodge, and ex-Governor [Samuel J.] Kirkwood. Shortly after leaving Sidney, from the high hills, we looked upon a grander scene than Moses saw from Nebo’s mountain. The valley of the Missouri with the great river sweeping by the long line of hills of beautiful Nebraska, presented to us a panorama at once inspiring and impressive. About the dinner hour of the next day we crossed the great river and first set foot on Nebraska soil. We camped for dinner at the spring just west of Arbor Lodge, and had a most bounteous repast of Nebraska grown potatoes and Nebraska prairie chickens, cooked by ourselves over a camp fire. Like everybody else we were crazy to get land. By virtue of the president’s proclamation, the lands of Nebraska would be upon the market within the next few days. The weather was delightful. The little city looked bright and cheerful, most inviting, indeed. The lands were smiling, and to cut this part of the story short, our party was captured, body and soul. We were excited. We were in a hurry to call some of the land our own. We spent a day or two looking over the country as far west as Wilson’s Creek, and made choice of quarters on the great ridge, about eight miles west of the city. The last sign of civilization observed by our company was what was then known as the Majors Farm, about four miles west of the levee. We returned to the city, to be present on the morning of the opening of the Land Office. A great crowd of people were in waiting to enter land. The office had been opened for some days

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previous, for the accommodation of preemptors, but this was the first public sale day. E. A. Desland was the receiver, Andy Hopkins the register. In order that everybody could have a fair show, a large number of tickets were numbered and placed in a hat. After shaking, the hat was held up over the officer’s head and people reached up and picked out one card. Whatever number it bore, marked the individual’s turn to enter land. Suffice it to say, for myself and company, I was permitted to enter the first section of land at a public entry in the South Platte land district. In this glad hour I had determined to make Nebraska my home. In the last days of February 1860, I gathered up what little I had of this world’s goods, and with wife and one ninemonths-old babe, now Mrs. James A. Ruby, of Marquett, Nebraska, bade adieu to the old home and turned my face toward the setting sun. Just as the sun was nearing the western horizon, on the last day of February, Captain Bebout shoved his little steamboat from the Iowa shore out into the fields of floating ice. Oh, how we watched with bated breath, those ugly cakes of ice crash up against our frail craft, where all our earthly treasures were; and then how lightly and how joyfully we first trod the firm soil of Nebraska. Nebraska then, as now, was “fair to look upon.” But how little did we realize what was in store for us, else the heart had fainted! Two brave young hearts and two pairs of willing hands were our capital. We must now tell you of Nebraska, as it proved to be when we found it, in 1860. Some of the principal work of our first legislature was to charter what is known in history as “wild cat” banks. We remember the Platte Valley Bank of Nebraska City; Nemaha Valley Bank of Brownville; Florence Bank of Florence; Western Exchange of Omaha; Tekama Bank of Tekama; and the DeSoto Bank of DeSoto.

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The bills of these banks, one and all, bore upon their face two precious promises; one was that they were redeemable in currency, and the other was that stock holders were personally liable. Let us illustrate. You hold a hundred dollars of Platte Valley bills, and you walk into the Platte Valley Bank and say, “Mr. Nuckolls, will you please redeem these bills?” “Certainly, sir,” he replies blandly and throws out to you one hundred dollars in Nemaha Valley bills. Yes! Yes! Well that is currency, but you are hardly satisfied, so you go away off down to Brownville, and upon entering the bank you ask the gentlemanly cashier the question, “Will you please, sir, redeem these bills, with some money that I can use in the east?” “Certainly, certainly, sir,” and he throws down one hundred dollars in crisp, new Platte Valley notes. “But hold,” say you, “I have walked down here from Nebraska City, with this money for which I exchanged Platte Valley bills, and I must have something, else.” “Oh, well, then I can accommodate you,” and he throws out one hundred dollars in Florence money. The result was then, as it always has been — this almost worthless money superseded all other money. Gold and silver and valuable paper money took their departure; still, money was plenty and speculation was rampant. Paper cities sprung up, here, there, everywhere. Thousands of claims had been preempted and held by the squatter right. Nebraska City enjoyed other advantages than being a general supply depot for incoming immigrants. It was a trading point for the Mormons as they were journeying to Salt Lake. It was also a general outfitting point for gold seekers bound for Colorado. But perhaps the most valuable business interest of the embryo city was the great freighting business of the government, conducted by Majors, Russell, and Waddell, who sent out thousands of tons of freight

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to Utah and other military camps, during our Mormon troubles. Everything was on the boom. It was an era of wild and most reckless speculation. In 1857 the great panic started westward from the eastern sea board, like a great tidal wave, carrying everything before it. It came westward slowly but surely, crushing out in its onward march all business interests. One great soul, Hon. Galusha A. Grow, member of Congress from Pennsylvania, as if by inspiration, saw the impending storm that was soon to overtake and overwhelm the western pioneers. With an energy born of desperation, he urged successfully the passage of the blessed homestead law. All the people of the great West said Amen and Amen! for it meant a home to the advance guard of civilization on these prairies free and secure beyond a peradventure. But alas! it must be recorded to the everlasting shame of James Buchanan that he vetoed the bill, which was the hope of our brave pioneers.26 As these people that had the courage to brave the dangers of the wilderness to plant foundations for this great commonwealth, asked of the president a “fish,” he gave instead a “scorpion.” Just as the surging waves of that terrible flood of woes had reached this fair land, and as all interests were paralyzed and destroyed by the panic, without previous warning, just like a sharp thunderclap from a clear sky, the same heartless president issued the proclamation putting the lands of Nebraska into market. Great God, what a staggering blow was this to the helpless settler! The “wild cats” with their worthless money had gone into their holes, and had apparently pulled their holes in after them. The people were absolutely without a currency. The squatters on the lands were helpless, and were at the mercy of the land sharks that came to the territory in great droves as soon as the news of the proclamation

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was sounded through the country. For a settler to get, by any legitimate means, money to pay for a quarter of land was virtually impossible. The shark would rescue him, however, in this wise. Land warrants were worth on the market $160, or one dollar per acre, but the warrant would be sold to the settler at $200, or $1.25 per acre on a year’s time, with 40 percent added, or for $280. The shark would enter the land in his own name and give the settler a bond for a deed, upon payment within one year of $280, inserting the innocent little phrase, “Time the essence of the contract.” Many of the settlers did not fairly understand at the time just what that phrase meant, but they found out, just one year later. In 1860 when these contracts became due, the people were worse off than ever, and thousands of them gave up in despair. Had it not been for the better day that dawned upon them in 1862, when a nobler man occupied the presidential chair, and they were permitted to make homes upon other lands, their lives must have been wretched indeed.27 When we reached Nebraska the measure of value was cottonwood lumber. We are quite sure that it is no exaggeration to say that for eighteen months, hard and faithful work as a mechanic, we did not handle ten dollars in money. It was trade and dicker all the time. It was the one time in my life when it was most difficult to obtain a decent living for good faithful labor. In the spring of 1860 Nebraska City was a beautiful little city of nearly two thousand people. Although business was dull in the extreme and many were leaving, yet it had promise of a bright future, when these dark clouds should roll by. But in the hour when we thought not, the “fire fiend” came upon us, on the ever memorable 12th day of May of that dreadful year. With a gale from the south,

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and everything as dry as a tinderbox, the devouring flames came upon us, and in less minutes than it takes to record it, the whole heart of the city was a mass of flames. There were no possible means of combating the raging monster. Forty-six of the best business houses were consumed, with an almost incalculable amount of merchandise and household goods. The post office, the best hotel, Nuckolls House, stores, shops, etc., etc., all went up in smoke, to the value of over one million dollars, with only sixty-two thousand insurance.28 On that frightful day, with that hot flame and smoke ascended such a wail of horror as we pray God we may never hear again. When the fire fiend had spent its force and fury, then another flame arose. This time it was the passion of maddened men. Some slight suspicion had attached to a poor wretch for having set the fire. An old lady had seen someone leaning up against the building where the fire started, lighting a pipe, and somebody thought it might have been this man. Crazy men rushed upon him with the fury of a cyclone while he was in the hands of the officers. The mob was led by S. F. Nuckolls, one of the losers by the fire. The officers by dint of perseverance got the fellow into jail, (the old block house). For a time it seemed that the officers would be overpowered, and the man would be torn to pieces and sent up in a chariot of fire. Upon trial there was no vestige of evidence against the fellow, only general bad character. The city was virtually destroyed — even worse than Chicago was, eleven years later. All interests were paralyzed. Property depreciated until it apparently had no value. It really seemed that hope and energy had gone up in smoke with the property. Scores of men and women fled from the city as if it were a plague spot.

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Three months only, had elapsed, when we learned that our cup of bitterness was not yet full. Hot monsoons from southern shores swept this fair land, as if the very breath from out the mouth of Hell had been turned loose upon the world. For sixteen days and nights, without a lull, these scorching, blighting winds prevailed. Our Kansas neighbors were just a little nearer Hell than we and got the worst of it, but we were too near for comfort or profit. Our people secured a very little small grain. Wheat-straw about the length of a pen-stock, but the few berries in the short little heads were good and plump. So far as we heard there were no cases of actual starvation in Nebraska, but God only knows how some of our people lived it through. Those that are pining and crying over hard times, in these glad days of plenty, know little of what they are talking about, and if they could realize what the people went through in those dark days, just as the war-clouds were gathering, they would hide their faces for very shame. Nebraska City, like other frontier towns, had some hard cases to deal with, and when the courts seemed lax or slow, the people were ready to lend a helping hand. In the winter of 1860 and ’61 a couple of worthless fellows were strongly suspected of being horse thieves, and with “I guess so” evidence, an angry mob gathered and determined to tie the fellows to a post in the street, and give each about forty lashes on the bare back. The mob was led by one Nick Labow (rather a tough character, himself). The inferior one of the two was led out, stripped and tied, underwent the terrible ordeal, and meekly received the warning to take his departure immediately. The second fellow was much the greater rascal, without doubt, but he was smart, and was plucky to the last. He defied the mob and hurled anathemas and maranathas at them without

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stint. Finally he awakened the sympathy of Isaac Core, a prominent citizen of the city. He undertook to talk to the mob, and they hooted at him. But Core was made of stern stuff and would not [back] down and he fairly brow beat that unruly mob out of countenance. They finally untied the man and sneaked off like whipped curs. In its early years, Nebraska City was largely dominated by southern influence. Many of the government appointees were southern gentlemen, or at least in full sympathy with southern sentiment. This was the home of many of the territorial officers. Samuel Black, our governor, was a Pennsylvanian, but he was a proslavery democrat, and a bitter partisan. When the supreme hour of trial came, however, he proved loyal to the old flag, and gave his own brave young life in defense of its honor. The governor was a bright appearing young man, with jet-black hair and black eyes, nicely trimmed beard, tall, slender, and straight as an arrow. It was said that he was rather loose in his morals, but so far as I was able to judge, with only a partial acquaintance, he was a fairly good officer. Hon. J. Sterling Morton was secretary of the territory, and we believe he is the only territorial officer of that day, now living, and resident of the state, except Experience Esterbrook, delegate to Congress in 1859, now resident of Omaha. Major Denisten, Indian agent for the Otoe tribe, so far as I remember, was the only man in the government employ that proved a traitor. He was both a traitor and a thief. The government had sent him the money (nearly $14,000) to pay the annuities of the Indians, and under some pretense he withheld it until the Indians became impatient, then exasperated.29 Finally the whole tribe, headed by Chief

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Artaketa, came to the city and demanded of the Major their money. The business men of the city were in sympathy with the Indians, not from pure love of the red men, but because they were anxious for the Indian trade. The people generally were anxious that the money should be paid, through fear of an Indian outbreak. The Major was obstinate and while he admitted having the money, he did not propose to be dictated to, by a lot of redskins. He would not pay out the money until he got ready. The Indians were in no mood to be trifled with. At a critical moment, the Indians made a rush for the Major and bound him with ropes, and they dragged him through the streets from the east end of town to his residence, near where the M. E. church now stands. Wild excitement ruled the hour. The people rushed to the scene of trouble. When I reached the Major’s home, the large yard was full of excited people. Many of the territorial officers, including Governor Black, were present, also nearly all the business men of the city. The cooler heads among the officers and citizens exerted themselves to allay the excitement. By the help of the interpreter Chief Artaketa addressed the people, setting forth, in strong and forcible language, the wrongs that his people had suffered, how many of them had gone cold and hungry through the winter, on account of the perfidy of the agent, when the Great Father had made ample provision for feeding and clothing his red children. The old chief had the sympathy of the people. This was our opportunity to listen to true Indian eloquence. His great soul was all on fire, his tongue was loosed, and his every motion was eloquent. While we could understand not a word spoken, yet we stood entranced as his burning words came like a stream of fire from a great volcano.

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The Major finally, under pressure, agreed to go over to the agency in a few days and pay over the money, but the Indians would not take his word until Governor Black pledged his honor, as a man and as governor, that the money should be locked up safely in Ware’s bank safe, and there remain until the day set to go over to the Agency. And he promised to go with the Major and see the money paid. This satisfied the people, and the Indians acquiesced. We believe that the governor acted in good faith, and expected the agreement to be carried out to the letter. But it was in the Major’s heart to steal the money and carry it over to the enemy of his country. He succeeded in deceiving his friend, the governor, and while he was sleeping, the Major, with the help of persons unknown to us, and under the cover of a dark, stormy night, started with the money for Dixie’s land — and they “got there.” How he got the money out of Mr. Ware’s safe, some one else may explain. Efforts were made for his capture, but they were unavailing, and the next we heard of the Major he was in South Carolina, in the employ of the rebel government. It may sound very strange to you when we say that Nebraska in antebellum days was a land of slavery. In 1860 there were quite a number of slaves in the city. Alexander Majors had two or three. S. F. Nuckolls had two, I believe, and there were a few others.30 Government appointees from the south, slaveholders, brought their servants. Whether they were brought as a matter of convenience or were brought with a view of serving a political purpose I know not. (Since the above was written I have learned that only one government official brought slaves to the territory, viz.: Mr. Harden.) But the northern people looked upon the matter with deep concern, and with grave suspicion, that it was an attempt to fasten slavery with all its hateful consequences

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upon this sacred soil. Slavery, however, was out of place here, and when a slave desired to go free, it was very easy to secure a ticket over the “underground railroad” with safe conduct to Canada. Nebraska City was one of the stations where old John Brown fed and rested scores and scores of hungry and weary fugitives. In the valley just north of the cemetery there was a great cave, which was undoubtedly a hiding and resting place for fugitives. This cave was on the property of a Mr. Mayhew, whose wife was a sister to Kagi, one of John Brown’s trusted followers. It was our privilege to visit the cave in 1860. It was nearly sixteen feet deep, dug into a steep bank. The door was made near the bottom of the ravine and was partially obscured so that a casual observer would not notice it. A hollow log or gum [gum tree?] was used as a ventilator, and reached to the surface of the ground. The owner claimed to be a rank democrat, but we never could get him to explain the use of that cave.31 It may also sound very strange to you, when we tell you how once the rebel flag floated over our fair Nebraska. It will be remembered that South Carolina, the lead in the secession movement, adopted a flag that fairly indicated the venom that was rankling in the bosom of her people, “the rattlesnake flag.” This most hateful emblem of treason, the flag embellished with a huge, most vicious looking reptile, was found waving in triumph over the old block house one bright morning in the winter of ’60 and ’61. But Nebraska had not seceded, neither had she any notion of so doing. Just who was guilty of this treason was never quite plain, but there were good reasons for suspecting one Augustus F. Harvey, more generally known as “Ajax.” Mr. Harvey was a strong proslavery democrat with secession proclivities. He was a man of marked ability as a writer,

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was at a time shortly after this editor of the News, and at one time editor and publisher of a paper in Lincoln.32 He was a very bitter partisan and appeared to have no love for the government. That rattlesnake flag could not very long float in the breezes of Nebraska. As soon as the good people of the city became aware that the stars and stripes had been supplanted by that hateful emblem of treason, it had to come down in a hurry, and the “Starry flag again waved over the land of the free and the home of the brave.” In the early spring of 1861, when President Lincoln first called for troops, a war meeting of the citizens was held. Many of the prominent citizens were present, among whom we remember a young lawyer, with a large bushy head with long black hair, a man full of life, and full of grit and enthusiasm. This was O. P. Mason. W. L. Boydston was also present, and did much to awaken enthusiasm in the organizing of the First Nebraska regiment. Gen. W. B. Burnett, surveyor general of the territory, a man that had greatly distinguished himself for bravery in the Mexican War, was with us and made a little talk that thrilled my young heart as never before. He loved the old flag, under whose folds he had carried victory to our arms on many a bloodstained field in Mexico; and now when recreant hands would trail it in the dust, his great soul rebelled against the thought. He was ready to sink the partisan in the patriot, I can never forget his peroration, as he quoted so eloquently and with a pathos born of love, the immortal words of [Joseph Rodman] Drake: Flag of the free heart’s only hope and home By angel hands to valor given; Thy stars hath lit the welkin dome And all thy hues were born in Heaven.

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A most prominent character was Alexander Majors, the head and general manager of the great freighting company of Majors, Russell, and Waddell. This business was of immense proportions, employing in a single season three thousand men and thirty thousand oxen with thousands of huge prairie schooners that would carry ten thousand pounds of freight each, and required six yoke of oxen to haul them. Twenty-six of these great wagons were required to make a train and were hauled by three hundred and twelve strong oxen. The drivers were known by the euphonious name of “bull whackers.” Each train was provided with a wagonmaster and assistant wagonmaster. These were shrewd wiry frontiersmen, mounted on broncho ponies. Each train was provided with two or three extra drivers. Every man in the train (about thirty) was furnished with a pocket Bible, as a protection against moral contamination, two Colts’ revolvers, and a huge hunting knife, as a protection against the Indians. Each wore a broad brimmed hat that many times bore upon the crown strange devices. Each driver carried a huge whip, the snap of which was a terror to the poor brutes under his control. Each wagon would have strapped to the gear an extra pole, one or two yokes, an ingenious contrivance for greasing the wagon, and a chip sack hanging on a hook at the side of the box. This sack the driver would fill with buffalo or cow chips during the day to be used for camp fires. There was but little timber along the road. At night the wagons would be placed in a circle, with but one opening, through which the oxen could be hurriedly driven in times of danger or sudden attack. Vigilant guards were maintained at night. The camp must be continually on a war footing. Prowling bands of Indians were constantly on the watch for opportunities to plunder, and with all these precautions there

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were many trains pillaged, the wagons burned, and cattle stolen, and frequently many brave men perished. The “bullwhackers” were a tough looking crew, but for all that the mass of them were noble men in disguise. Many of them were finely educated; some of them graduates of eastern colleges, and most generally their hearts were as large as the hearts of the oxen they drove. They were generous to a fault, but ready to resent an insult at the drop of the hat. They would go all lengths to assist a comrade or other person in distress. While they were schooled to endurance of hardship, in caring for the sick of their number, they were as gentle as a woman. Mr. Majors was a most remarkable man. He was illiterate so far as school education was concerned, but in a business sense he was wise beyond most men. A man of sterling integrity, of wide experience, a most ardent professor of the Christian faith, a preacher of the gospel of Christ. Wherever the Sabbath overtook him, in the mountain fastnesses, on the plains, or at the city, he would gather his men about him and preach the word of life to them, and impress upon their minds the necessity of purity of life, of honest purposes, of high aspirations, and a remembrance of mother’s teaching at the old home. In his contracts with the men it was required that they should abstain from profanity and all kinds of immoral conduct, and it had a most beneficial effect upon them. It was Mr. Majors’ aim to send the boys home to their parents better, rather than worse, than when they left them. He paid liberal wages, which continued for the round trip, sick or well, unless a man was dismissed for misconduct or neglect of duty. Many of the boys saved a handsome sum of money. Merchants, especially clothiers, wore broad smiles upon their faces when they heard of one of the trains approaching the city, for it meant a harvest

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to them. At times thirty full suits would be sold over one counter in an evening. After the long tramp to Salt Lake and return, you may be sure the boys wanted new clothes to wear home. At the outfitting station in the northwestern part of the city were several large warehouses, one outfitting store, several cozy dwellings, and a little park. The park was provided with seats and a speaker’s stand, at which place, during the summer and fall, there would be regular services every Sunday. Most pictures have their shady side. Strange as it may seem to us, a man of such sterling qualities as Mr. Majors was a slaveholder, and actually brought slaves into the territory, some of whom I saw in the summer of 1860 if I remember correctly; the last of them took passage on the underground railroad, in the fall of 1860 about election time. It is safe to conclude that no slave ever suffered from cruel treatment at the hands of Mr. Majors. All the freight and most of the immigrants came by river steamers. The arrival of a steamer was a matter of great interest, for it brought supplies of all kinds, the mails, and passengers. Whenever the whistle of an incoming boat was heard, there would be a general rush to the levee. Some went through curiosity, some on business, and others to meet wife, mother, sister, or friend. The river steamer was a “thing of beauty, and a joy to all the people.”

John Stanford Gregory was born in Brattleboro, Vermont, in 1834 and graduated at Maumee, Ohio, high school. He married Mary Elizabeth White in 1857. He was admitted to the bar in 1860 and in 1862 came to Nebraska, where he built the first salt extraction plant near Lincoln. In 1867 he began a new career in real estate

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and insurance. Then in 1896 he moved to Galveston, Texas, where he died on February 26, 1913.33 The following is a letter written to Jay Amos Barrett in 1904.

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Early Days at the Salt Basin john s. gregory Galveston, Texas, December 16, 1904.34 Jay Amos Barrett Curator: Dear Sir, I am in receipt of your kind invitation to appear at your annual meeting of January next, and detail some of the early history of Lancaster County as I may remember it. Nothing would afford me greater pleasure than to be present upon that occasion, and exchange reminiscences with the early settlers of that territory — if any are yet left on earth to meet — but as this is not possible at this time I will contribute my mite in the form of this letter. I would like to state something to a Historical Society that would be an incident of history, but as nothing occurred in my early day, I can not. I dislike to intrude in this article so much of the pronoun I, but remember that at the first election held in Lancaster County, which was a year later than my first arrival, there were but eleven voters in the county, which was a picnic for office-seekers, for every one could have one. Therefore, if I am to say anything at all, it must involve myself more or less. Of these seventeen, William W. Cox, of Seward, and myself are the only survivors, so far as I am informed. I first made my home in what is now Lincoln in the summer of 1862, being the first permanent settler of that city’s site. Neighbors in the county were few and far between, but for music we had nightly serenades from hundreds of

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coyote wolves, who also loved chicken better than traveling ministers or down-south darkies; therefore war was declared against the wolves. Every evening in the winter months we would mount a horse, fasten a piece of fresh meat to a lariat, and draw it over the ground in a circuit of a mile or so, occasionally dropping a small pellet of lard encasing a flake of strychnine. The wolves would take the trail, and sometimes we would gather a dozen of them in the morning. Their pelts paid the cost, and their carcasses were drawn away to the banks of Salt Creek, where we expected them to rot in the spring. But a band of Pawnee Indians found them, and never broke camp until the last carcass went into the soup, which we were informed was “heap good for Injun.” In 1863 there was quite an influx of temporary citizens from the state of Missouri who came, as they stated, to “get out of the draft” (this was war time, you know), and settled around salt basin. Of this number I remember the families of Owens, Harmon, Eveland, Bird, Billows, Tinnell, Thatcher, Pemberton, Church, and a few others. It was said that some of these had been bush-whackers in Missouri, and had in fact come up to the salt basins “for the benefit of their health”; but they were as peaceful as doves while here, and all went back to Missouri after the war was over. During that year, Dr. Crimm and “Jim” Dye, of Brownville, came to the basin and built a bench of salt boilers and became my friendly rivals in the salt manufacture.35 At an election late in the fall we elected Alf Eveland justice of the peace, and Peter Billows constable, and this was the first attempt to call in the aid of the law, in that county. Prior to that date every man was his own law-giver, and a brace of revolvers enforced it. “Alf” was a small,

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freckled-faced, red-haired chap, very self-important, and ambitious to be called “Squire Eveland.” He had opened a “saloon” in his sod dwelling, his stock in trade being a keg of whisky and a caddy of tobacco. His wife, Elizabeth, was of massive proportions, at least four times the size of her husband, and strong as she was big — could easily hold her lord at arm’s length over her head with her right arm alone. It was said that after Eveland’s stock in trade had been paid for, he had ten cents left, with which he purchased a drink at his bar, while his wife kept the saloon, and then she in turn used it for the same purpose while “Alf” was bartender, and by alternating this process quite a trade was established. When “Alf” became justice of the peace, he went to Nebraska City and provided himself with a justice docket book and a full set of law blanks, and returned, fully equipped to “dispense with justice” (as he put it) to all who should require his services, but as it is difficult to make radical changes in forms of law, more than six months passed without a single case for Eveland’s adjudication. The nearest to a case that I remember was from this Peter Billows, who, by the way, was originally a Pennsylvania Dutchman. Peter came over to my office one morning and said, “Gregory, John Owens’ hogs broke into my garden last night and destroyed more than fifteen dollars’ worth of damage. What can I do about it?” I advised him to go and see John, and if he would not fix it, he would have a case for Eveland, but as he and John “fixed it,” the justice case was a failure. The first law case of this county appears in Justice Docket No. 1-A, Eveland, Esq., J. P., and is entitled, “Crimm & Dye vs. J. S. Gregory, Action for Replevin,” and it arose as follows: Both Crimm and myself used a considerable

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amount of salt barrels, which we made at our salt works, and the man, Church, was a stave maker, obtaining his bolts from the headwaters of Salt Creek. On the morning Church started back to Missouri, he came to my works, and sold me his stock of staves, amounting in value to about $16. I went with him to his “dugout,” counted and marked the staves, and took a bill of sale in writing and paid for them. During the same morning he sold the same staves to Crimm, who also marked them and took a bill of sale in writing. A few days after, I went for them with my wagons, and when Crimm saw me loading them, he came up and wanted to know what I was doing with his staves. Of course it was a short story to explain the situation, and we agreed to divide the lot and each stand half the loss. But just at this point, a brilliant idea struck Crimm. He said, “Say, Gregory, what a pretty case this would be for a lawsuit. Here is Squire Eveland, who has spent a whole lot of money for books and blanks, and has been a justice of the peace for more than six months without a single case. What do you say to a lawsuit?” So it was arranged that Crimm should rush down to the “saloon,” sue out a writ of replevin, and the constable should take the property, and we would give the “Squire” something to judicially decide. In due time the trial was had, Crimm introduced his bill of sale, proved payment, and delivery to himself by Church on the day of his departure, and demanded judgment. Whereupon the Squire announced that the plaintiff had a clear case, and as his mind was already made up upon that point, he did not care to hear any evidence from the defendant. Of course defendant insisted that it was not lawful to render a judgment without both sides being heard, and demanded the right to produce his evidence. “Oh! go ahead,” said the

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Squire, “if you insist upon it, but it will do you no good, for I have already formed my opinion of the case.” We followed Crimm’s presentation exactly, and then pleaded that, as we were in possession of the property, in addition had as good a right as the plaintiff, the plaintiff could not take it away from us without showing some superior right. The Squire, who had been so sure of his opinion, was evidently in a quandary and advised us to try and settle the case between ourselves, to which we each “angrily” objected and asked him what a justice court was for if folks could agree without it. Finally, three days were taken in which to announce a decision, at which time about all the men of the settlement were present to hear the result. Court was called to order and the Squire said, “Gentlemen, I have given the case my best consideration, and the more I have studied it the more difficult it seems to arrive at any conclusion as to which of you rightfully own those staves. I think you should agree to divide them.” And announced that this was the only judgment he would enter. To this we each protested, but consented to confer, each with the other to see if we could compromise. After a short time we filed back “into court,” and announced that if the Squire would remit his costs and treat the “boys” who had come to attend his court, we would settle the case between ourselves, to all of which he gladly consented. I don’t know how much whisky was left in that keg, but doubt there being any; for the saloon business closed from that day. Will Pemberton was another of the “characters” of salt basin. He was the youngest of the colony and had many good traits of character which I admired, but he was quick tempered and impulsive. I don’t suppose he was any more truthful than the ordinary denizens of the colony, but to be

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called a liar was to him a deadly insult. One day he came over to my place upon his horse, at its fastest run. His face was pale and his eyes were green, and he was trembling with excitement. He said, “Greg, I want to know if I can depend upon you as my friend in trouble?” I answered him that he could up to the last hair. He then asked me if there was any law in Nebraska against killing birds. I told him there was not. He said he was awful glad to know it for he had just killed Jim Bird over at the basin. Said Jim had called him a liar, and he had shot him through the head, was awful sorry now that he had done so, but it couldn’t be helped, said it broke him all up, and that he couldn’t think what to do. He wanted me to think for him and advise him; said he would light out and leave the country, or would stay and face the music, or any other thing I might advise. I told him it was bad business and that before I could give him any reliable advice I would go over and see if he was not mistaken about Bird being dead. To this he said his revolver never failed to plant a bullet where he aimed it, and he saw Bird fall with his shot. I mounted my horse and rode over, and the first man I saw was this same Jim Bird, busy cutting wood at the front door of his log cabin. His rifle leaned against the door jamb, and as he caught sight of me he called me; said he wanted me to see what that Coyote Pemberton had done. A hole was through his hat, and a red streak on his head where the bullet grazed, and which had temporarily prostrated Jim, and had buried itself in the house logs. “Now,” he says, “if Pemberton don’t quit the country there will be a funeral tomorrow, for I will shoot him on sight.” Well I got down from my horse and made Bird sit down with me, and I argued the case with him in all its bearings, told him what Pemberton thought of it, and finally Bird agreed that

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if Pemberton would come to him and pass his pistols, as evidence of good faith, and beg his pardon for his rashness and promise to keep the peace, Bird would let the matter drop. To all these Pemberton gladly complied, and again peace and good will hovered over salt basin. John Cadman was another leading light in ancient history. He was a politician of the foxy kind. He always took a prominent part in every social or political move, both for notoriety and as a source of revenue. He was ready on all occasions to make an “impromptu” speech, but always wanted about two weeks’ time in advance, to prepare it, otherwise he was all at sea. On one occasion I remember he was called upon, but being unprepared, declined. As the audience insisted, a good strong escort on each arm walked him upon the platform “willy nilly,” so John started in: “My friends and fellow citizens, it affords me great pleasure to- to- to come together again.” The applause that greeted this announcement about closed the remarks of the honorable gentleman, and John took a seat. Cadman died several years ago in California.36 The Lancaster colony had its advent in 1864, but this being modern history, and subsequent to my early day, I leave its record for others.

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No biographical data could be found for Thomas Malloy.

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History of the First State Capitol thomas malloy In the month of November 1867, I was hired in Chicago by contractor Joseph Ward,37 who had the contract of building the first state capitol.38 There were also twelve other stonecutters who came west to Lincoln, Neb., along with me. We were to receive $4.50 per day as soon as we began work. He paid our way as far as Omaha and then transferred us back to Council Bluffs, from which place we arrived in Nebraska City. Here we rested for a day and night. There were two teams hired to bring our tool-chests and trunks from the depot on the Iowa side across by ferry to Nebraska City. We had guns and revolvers to protect ourselves from the Indians. Before we left Nebraska City we were advised to get blankets and moccasins, as it looked as if there was a storm coming. Sure enough the storm did come, after we left Nebraska City for Lincoln. We had to walk and run all the way behind the wagons to keep ourselves from freezing the first day. I believe the moccasins we bought saved our lives on the road. The first day we came as far as a place where there was one shanty on each side of a creek. One was occupied by a man by the name of [James] Wallen and the other by a man by the name of [Elijah] Luff, old pioneers on the Nemaha near Unadilla. The owners of the houses were scared of us until we told them where we were going; that we were going to Lincoln to build the state capitol. Then they divided us between the two houses. One house kept seven men and the other five. Lucky enough they had some bread, coffee, and bacon. They did the very best they

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possibly could for us. But such sleeping apartments! A loft in the peak of each shanty, with loose boards for a floor, on which we slept. And such a night. We lay on the floor with our lucky blankets rolled around us and kept ourselves as warm as we could. Next morning we got a breakfast of the same kind of food, paid our bill, and thanked the pioneer gentlemen for their kind treatment. Then we started for Lincoln and arrived at the Pioneer Hotel at 9:00 p.m. that night. This hotel was owned by Mr. Scroggins and was north of where the State Journal Building is at present, on Ninth Street. The number [at] the hotel that night after we signed our names on the register was sixty-five. The hotel was well filled with lodgers, consisting of laborers, mechanics, doctors, and a few lawyers. The next morning we went to see where our job was to be. A few men went with us and showed us the place. To our great surprise there was nothing for us to see but the trenches dug for the foundation. There was no material in the way of stone for us to go to work at. So we were badly discouraged. What could we do, out in the wilderness of Nebraska, and our families in Chicago? At this time the contractor was on his way from Chicago to Lincoln, three days behind us. We patiently waited for him to come, and when he did come we met him determined to do something desperate. In fact we were going to hang him. When he saw the material was not on hand for us to go to work at, he there and then told us not to be uneasy; that he would see that we would get our wages, work or play, according to agreement, as the State was good for it. So that pacified us. We were idle two weeks before the rock came in. He paid us full time. We then built a sod boarding house on the capitol grounds and boarded all the men working on the building. A man and team were hired to haul all the things required for

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the table from Nebraska City. That was good board at $5, so we were all well satisfied up to the 1st of April, 1868. At that time a man by the name of Felix Carr came from Omaha with a letter from Governor [David] Butler to the contractor, Mr. Ward. This man made a deal with Mr. Ward, who rented the boarding house to Mr. Carr. Then Mr. Carr went back to Omaha and brought out his wife and family to run the boarding house. He also brought out two big barrels of whisky. Then we saw what was up. We held a meeting and resolved to boycott the whisky, as the boys were all saving their money at this time. A few days after, he invited some of the men to have a drink, but they refused, and he was greatly surprised to see such a large number of men in a big building like a state capitol all sober. But one wet day came, and some of the masons broke the boycott about a month after the whisky came. This continued for a week. I watched an opportunity at night when they were all asleep, and crept to where the barrel was and turned the faucet in the barrel. I then crept back to bed again. The whisky kept running all night on the floor and down the cracks, until the barrel was empty. In the morning the smell of whisky was all over the boarding house. The man Carr became tearing mad. He carried a brace of revolvers at the breakfast table and threatened the man or men who committed the crime of emptying the barrel of its contents. But he did not shoot. A few days after, all the stone-cutters left the boarding-house and went to Mr. Lane’s new boarding house on O street. He was foreman carpenter. Mr. Felix Carr left in a few weeks and never paid Mr. Ward, the contractor, a cent of rent, and took his blankets, dishes, even the stove, spoons, and knives, and never was seen in Lincoln since.

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In the spring of 1868 the prairie was covered with camp wagons, consisting of bull teams, mule teams, and horse teams, all seeking out section stones and taking up homesteads and preemptions in Lancaster County. The land office was in Nebraska City at this time. All available teams were employed hauling lumber from Nebraska City and stone from Beatrice for the state capitol. Frame houses were springing up in all directions. Carpenters, masons, and plasterers were in demand. Auction sales were conducted by Thomas Hyde, auctioneer, selling city lots at that time to pay the expenses of building the capitol. The kind of money in circulation at that time was called greenbacks, and it was easy carried in a man’s pocket, not being so heavy as gold. In the fall of the same year, 1868, politics were getting lively. There were two liberty poles planted on top of a hill called market square at that time, north of where the post office is now built, between O and P streets. One was a Democrat pole and the other was a Republican pole, both with the stars and stripes flying from the top. The Republican pole was taller than the other, being spliced. But some wicked villain came around one night, threw a rope across the top of it, and kept pulling at it until it fell across the top of the hill and cracked in two pieces. In the morning when the men were going to work, they only saw one pole with the stars and stripes flying, and that was the Democrat pole. When the report went around the town the people gathered in swarms to see the broken liberty pole. There was nothing but weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth among the old veterans of the late war. Finally there was a colored barber of the name of Johnston who lived west of the hill on Ninth Street where Humphrey’s hardware store is now. He reported that he

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heard the crack of the pole when it fell, and that he saw a man running toward the livery barn of Dunbar and Jones, on west O Street. Suspicion fell on young Jones because he was a southern Democrat, and he was taken and a guard placed over him. The Moore brothers and other veterans of the recent war went to George Ballentine’s lumber yard and got lumber and built a scaffold on top of the hill where the pole lay. The scaffold was built to hang Jones on, and his trial was to be held that evening before Judge Cadman. The Democrats got very uneasy and sent word out toward Salt Creek and other places around Lincoln to be in at the hanging. There did a lot of them come in and waited until the trial commenced. Judge Cadman called the case, and the witness appeared. He said he heard a loud noise of something cracking, and he looked out and saw a man running toward the barn after the crack. “Did you know the man?” Answer, “No, Sir.” “Any more witnesses?” There were none. “I discharge the prisoner for want of further prosecution.” So there was no hanging on that scaffold in 1868. In 1868 Mr. Robert Silvers got the contract of building the state university.39 The first thing he did was to start a brick yard. He bought all the wood he could find in the country and had to haul it with teams, as there was no railroad in the country at that time. He hauled the foundation stone from Yankee Hill, which was sand rock. This was of little account. As there was no other stone around Lincoln at that time to build any kind of foundation with, even the first bank at the corner of Tenth and O was built out of it. At that time Mr. Silvers did not know how he could find stone for the steps at the three principal entrances, south,

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east, and west, to the university. He asked me if there was any show to get them at any price. He told me to search the country to see if I could find any, as he hated to put wooden steps in a state university. I started out on a pony and the first day I could find no stone that would suit. The second I went east and found stone located south of Bennet in a ravine. I was overjoyed to find a lot of fine sound stone that had been exposed to the sun for years. I knew that on that account they were sound. I then returned and told Mr. Silvers that I had found the stones that would make the steps. He asked me would they split with the frost. I said to him that if even one of them split with the frost never to pay me one cent for my material or labor. “Well,” he said, “name your price.” “Oh,” I said, “about $1.50 a superficial foot.” He then said to me, “The job is yours.” The contract was then made out. I got all the stones that had been long exposed to the frost and sun, dressed them, and they are there today, after all the wear and tear they have received since they were laid in 1868. The steps and landings at the three entrances cost $1,000, and Mr. Silvers made me a present of $50 and thanks.

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Silas T. Leaming was born in Sclhoharie County, New York, but grew up near LaPorte, Indiana. In 1852 he went to California, where he lived for three years. After his return he was employed as a surveyor by the Central Airline Railroad and surveyed the route from Ida Grove, Iowa, to Decatur, Nebraska. He settled in Decatur and was the first mayor of the new community. Later he surveyed on the Omaha and Winnebago Indian Reservations. Leaming died on February 18, 1906.40

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Personal Recollections of Early Days in Decatur, Nebraska capt. s. t. leaming I have been asked by the Historical Society of Nebraska to give some personal recollections of pioneer life in Burt County particularly in connection with the settlement of Decatur, and the steamboats which then seemed the link between the wild west and civilization.41 It has been said that all things pass away when their usefulness is ended. Whether this be true or not, the days of steamboating on the upper Missouri were of short duration. The locomotive with its long train of cars sent them into oblivion with the stagecoach and the prairie schooner. The very first steamer to come as far as this point was sent out by the government in 1819 with a party of explorers. This boat was named Western Engineer and commanded by Maj. Stephen H. Long. The expedition remained at a point just below Council Bluff during the winter of 1819–20. Early in the spring the boat received a new commander and was used for transporting government supplies to the forts and trading posts along the Missouri. The second steamer to plow the waters of the “Big Muddy” was the Yellowstone,

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owned by the American Fur Company and commanded by Captain Bennett. This steamer made its first trip during the summer of 1831. From this date until after the close of the Civil War, steamers made regular trips between St. Louis and the Yellowstone. During the last years of steam navigation on the upper Missouri, shifting sands and changing boundaries rendered extreme care necessary in order to avoid being stranded on a sand bar, and progress was slow, until even steamers, that the old settlers declared could run over a heavy dew, came less and less frequently. Coming here in 1856, I found them still plying and eagerly looked for by the few white inhabitants living in settlements near the river. These steamers were not “floating palaces,” but they represented a certain phase of luxury and were the connecting link with the outside world. There was no hurry in those days of elegant leisure, but the instant the whistle of a steamer was heard there was a general stampede for the landing. Parties were quickly improvised, and the eatables and drinkables aboard were levied upon by those whose principal living consisted of such delicacies as venison, wild turkey, prairie chicken, and game of every variety. These were gladly exchanged for bacon, fruit, vegetables, etc. There was always a darkey aboard with banjo or fiddle, so the festivities culminated in a dance. At the time of which I write, 1856, the principal trading post at Decatur was held by Peter A. Sarpy, and for a time Clement Lambert was his chief clerk. Like most Indian traders, Lambert was fond of his booze. One evening a steamer arrived from St. Louis and tied up for the night. This was the signal for a general carousal, and Lambert went on a tear. He owned a famous pony, as fearless as himself. When Lambert got fairly full, he stripped to pants

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and Indian leggings, buckled a belt around his waist, stuck in it a pair of Colt’s revolvers, sprang to the back of his pony, gave a couple of Indian war-whoops, and made for the river. Barely halting long enough to give another yell, and with a gun in either hand, he ordered the gangway open, which was quickly done under the force of circumstances. Then with a command, more forcible than elegant, he told the pony to go, and he went, not only on to the steamer, but up the flight of stairs, into the saloon, and up to the bar. Here he ordered a big drink for Billy the pony and commanded every soul present to “drink to the health of Billy and the president of the United States.” During the Civil War, steamers reduced in size and with light draft carried supplies to the forts as far north as Benton and Pierre, bringing back rich furs, by which many traders made independent fortunes.42 Just here a personal incident connected with steamboating may not be out of place. The uprising of the northern Indians and the dreadful massacres had called out a large number of troops who went in defense of the white settlers. I was then captain of Company I, 2d Nebraska Cavalry, Governor Furnas, colonel of the regiment. Being severely ill at Crow Creek Agency, it became necessary to send me to the hospital at Ft. Randall.43 As one of the fur company’s steamers came puffing down the river, it was hailed for this purpose. Fearing they were to be pressed into the service, the captain paid no heed to the signal, whereupon the officers in command ordered a shot fired across her bow, causing a quick change in the direction of the boat, for she speedily came to the landing, and I was carried aboard and safely conveyed to the hospital. During the trip, the captain became interested in my condition, and at a point where they were taking on wood, the captain

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sent the private who had been detailed to take care of me ashore, and told him to get a bush of bull berry. The bush was brought, loaded with berries, red, acid, and astringent. The captain told me to eat a handful, or extract and swallow the juice, which I did. Within an hour I experienced great relief, and to this I feel sure I owe my life. The first lumberyard established on the upper Missouri was at Omadi, Decotah County, one of the first towns laid out in the Territory of Nebraska. Steamers from St. Louis came to this point laden with lumber for the flourishing young town. A schoolhouse was erected, sawmill built, and hopes were high for making Omadi the county seat of Dacotah County. Today, the site of Omadi is marked by a sandbar on the opposite side of the river from where it was originally located. The treacherous Missouri, having decided to change her bed, cut out the bank, and swept over and around to the other side, leaving the place where poor Omadi had been, in Iowa. Coming back to 1856, the date of my arrival in Decatur, I take up the story of pioneer life in Burt County. The “Iowa Central Air Line” [Railroad] was surveyed and located to the Missouri River, at a point opposite Decatur. There seemed to be no possible reason for believing the road would not be speedily built through. Having a little money to invest I decided to purchase land and shares in the county and town. Since I had been one of the engineers in the party surveying the line, my locating here was believed to establish the fact of the point of crossing the river, and shares jumped in one week from one hundred to eleven hundred dollars. It is a matter of history how the Iowa Central Air Line went into possession of the Chicago, Northwestern R.R. Co., and was made to swerve to the south in order to reach Council Bluffs, which had come

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into prominence from being the point where supplies for troops and overland parties were obtained. Stephen Decatur, better known as “Commodore Decatur,” was godfather to the town which bears his name. Though sorely disappointed by the railroad failure, the settlers bravely went to work to develop the natural resources of the beautiful and fertile country. The Indians had occupied the reservation several years, but not until after the close of the Civil War was the allotment made giving to each Indian his own particular portion. I was appointed by the government to make the first allotment, and at the close of the second summer every member of the two tribes, Omaha and Winnebago, was satisfactorily settled. Painter began assigning the allotments in the summer of 1869 and by the end of the year the task was completed.44 At the time of my coming there was not a white woman in Decatur. The first team owned there was a yoke of oxen belonging to me, slow but sure. Surprise parties were the fashion, and often did they carry a merry party out to the sod house of some settler who was aroused from his slumbers by the “whoa haw gee” of the driver. It required some effort to get up a first-class entertainment, but there were always some ready to lend a hand, and by the time a half dozen calico dresses were seen on the street, dances, concerts, lectures, etc., were not infrequent. Many of the settlers were afraid of the Indians, who were our near neighbors, but the people of the town had become accustomed to their antics and war-whoops so that none of these things disturbed them.45 One summer, when town lots were at a low ebb, it was decided to make an extra effort to sell some. The 4th of July

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was at hand, so what could be better than to combine business with pleasure and patriotism. The combined intellect of the place evolved a fine program that should stimulate curiosity and whet the appetite for town lots and a good dinner. A few days before the Fourth, “dodgers” were sent out through the county, reading like this:

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Fourth of July Celebration. Town Lots for Sale at Your Own Price. Free Meals for Everybody Including the Children. A Wonderful Surprise for Amusements. Orations and Singing. Come Early. The surprise was to be in the form of a war dance and designed for the climax of the festivities. The Indian agent, sent by the government to the reservation, entered heartily into the arrangement and promised to furnish the finest specimens at the agency for the war dance. The ladies of Decatur entered into the spirit of the time and with patriotic fervor vied with each other in preparing delicacies for the banquet, baking “Revolution cake” and “Washington pie,” and furnishing enough bread, doughnuts, chicken, baked beans, etc., to feed a regiment. The day was perfect; flags and flowers gaily dressed out the tables set on the green, and everybody was on tiptoe of expectations, ready to welcome the crowds sure to come with true western hospitality. A large number of Indians were to come in their war paint and feathers and with the red, blue, or yellow blankets furnished by the government. It was expected they would make a picturesque showing riding down the bluff at full speed on their swift ponies. The expectations were fully met. The Indians are always fond of surprises, and at this time determined to have one of their own, so, instead of waiting quietly for their part of the program, they came

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tearing down the bluffs with unearthly yells, whooping as they had been told to do, their blankets and long hair streaming in the wind just as the farmers and settlers with their wives and children dressed in their Sunday best were coming in on the river road. With one startled look, every last wagon was turned quickly about and went flying home at a galloping pace. They had heard of Indian uprisings, and knowing nothing of the “wonderful surprise,” stayed not on the order of their going but went at once. The Decatur people had their war dance, which was an old story to them, and the Indians had the “free meals,” for every table was quickly cleared by the hungry savages, who were ready to eat anything from a coyote to a grasshopper. It is said that “hope deferred maketh the heart sick.” Surely the people of Decatur that day had reason to feel that fate was against them. Even their patriotic enthusiasm was not rewarded. However, they have gone on with courage unabated, until now, despite the absence of a railroad, they have one of the prettiest towns in the state. They have good schools and churches and beautiful homes where peace, prosperity, and contentment abide, under the shade of the groves their own hands have planted.

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Biographical data for J. H. Lemmon could not be found.

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Early Days on the Little Blue j. h. lemmon Alexander Majors, the founder of the greatest freight company that was ever formed to do a freighting business with teams and wagons, commenced the business with six yoke of cattle and one wagon.46 His first trip was from Independence, Missouri, to Ft. Union, New Mexico. He kept adding teams to his outfit until he had twenty-six teams and wagons. He then formed a partnership with two men under the firm name Majors, Russell & Waddell and they kept enlarging their business until the year 1860–61 they had six hundred team and wagons with six yoke of cattle to the wagon. I think that the old freight road that used to pass up the Little Blue River was once the greatest thoroughfare that was ever traveled in any country. In the year 1860 there were never less than three hundred and sometimes over five hundred wagons passing over the road every day for over five months, not counting any teams coming from the west and probably three-fourths of these same teams traveled over the same road going west. On the open prairie, where there was plenty of room, the road was worn down smooth for one hundred yards wide. I have seen three trains traveling abreast. Just imagine five hundred wagons strung out on the same road, each taking up at least one hundred feet, making a distance of over nine miles. I have seen over four hundred wagons camped in one bottom, their corrals covering a space one mile long by one-half mile wide.

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In regard to the Indians, we lived here on the Little Blue River for four years in perfect peace with them. We did not mind them any more than we did the birds that were flying about us. There would not have been any trouble with the Indians if it had not been for the Rebellion. There were, among the Indians, some of the rebels who put them up to go on the warpath.47 There were twenty-three persons killed within thirty-five miles on the Little Blue, and seven ranches burned in the first big raid. Among the killed were six of the Eubanks family and six freighters. The rest were killed one and two at a place, all this being done at the same hour of the day. There was one married woman and her two children by the name of Eubanks and one young lady, Laura Roper, who were taken prisoners in the year 1860. By the year 1866 nearly all the old ranchmen had gotten back on the Little Blue River and things were going along nicely. I had in 155 acres of corn, the Comstocks had in ninety acres, and all the others had in from forty to sixty acres. It was a fine growing spring. We had all plowed our corn over the first time and had commenced to go over it the second time. I had three hired men two of whom wanted to go down to Brownville on the Missouri River to the land office to enter some land. I took three big teams and went with them. I loaded my teams with corn and started back. I got to the Sandy near where Alexandria now stands, where there was quite a little settlement, some six or eight families. To this place the stage coach had come down the day before and brought the news that all the men had been run out of the fields, and one man, who was breaking prairie just one mile above where the town of Oak now stands, was killed. We ranchmen all had men standing guard over the men that were plowing in

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the fields, so that the Indians could not get the drop on them. That was the reason the men all got out of the fields without any more of them being killed. Well, the people around Sandy were all getting ready to leave the country again and go east to the big settlements. I commenced to talk to them and told them that I was going to stay, and said to them, “Let’s go out and give those Indians a good drubbing and then they will let us alone. We can whip all the Indians in the Sioux and Cheyenne nations with the advantage we have in arms.” We all had heavy rifles, sixteen shooters, or Spencer rifles, seven shooters. We counted up and we could raise fifty men and still leave two men at each ranch. I told them that I would furnish grub for the men and feed for the animals. This was on Friday morning. It would take me two days to drive home. Well, they all agreed to come to my place Saturday night so that we could start out on Sunday. On Sunday morning the coach came up and brought me the news that every ranchman and all the settlement at Sandy had left the country except at the stage stations where were a dozen soldiers as a guard. I talked with my hired men, of whom I had four, and told them that if any of them were afraid to stay to say so and I would pay them off. One of them said he would rather not stay, so I paid him off and he went down on the next coach. The other three said they would stay if I did. I wanted my wife and small children and hired girl to go to Beatrice, but my wife would not go and leave me on the Blue. I had to let part of my corn go without tending, except the one plowing. I had to put a man at each end of the field and one man had to be at the house the most of the time. Whenever we saw an Indian or Indians we mounted our horses and made them bounce. They would always make for a large body of timber about

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four miles up Liberty Creek. They would generally have so much the start that they would make the timber before we could overtake them. We made it hot for three of them one day. We shot the pony from under one of them just before they reached the timber, but he got up behind one of the others and got away before we could get him. If the ground had not been rough for the last quarter of a mile we would have gotten all three of them. My farm lay between Liberty Creek and the Little Blue River. The day before the 4th of July an Indian came down the south side of Liberty Creek to a high piece of ground and sat on his pony watching for an hour the boys plowing and the men on guard. On the next day, the 4th of July, an Indian came and sat around on his pony the same as the day before. At the same time sixteen of them crossed Liberty Creek on foot, the banks being too steep for their ponies to cross. The field was one-half a mile long and the boys were plowing up and down the creek. The northeast corner of the field ran up on to high ground so that the man on guard at that corner of the field could see all over and across to the other side of the creek. There was a draw about sixty yards from the west of the field and quite straight so that the man who was on guard could look down to the timber. He saw the Indians come out, but at first thought they were wild turkeys as they were crawling in the grass. But to be sure he jumped on his horse and ran down where the boys were just coming out at the end of the field. The Indians had crawled up the draw directly opposite where the boys would come out. When the guard reached the boys he galloped over toward the draw, and the Indians jumped up and began to shoot. By this time the boys had gotten out of the corn, and the man who was riding the plow jumped, and ran around his team, and his

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second shot killed an Indian, and the rest ran back into the draw and to the timber, keeping down under the bank, making their way toward the ranch. By their motion the boys thought there was another party attacking the house, so as quickly as the boys could unhitch they jumped on their horses and took down through the corn rows. The Indians saw that the boys were going to beat them, so they jumped up from behind the bank and commenced shooting again. The guard was riding a running horse and was about three rods ahead of the others, so the Indians did all their shooting at him. The boys behind said they made the dust fly about three or four feet behind him. They were not like old Davy Crockett. He allowed for the coons crawling, but the Indians did not allow for the horse running. The buffalo were so plenty on the Little Blue River and between the Little Blue and Platte rivers that it seemed as though the whole face of the earth was covered with them. For four days several big freight trains lay in camp on the divide between the Little Blue and the Platte rivers, not daring to move, being entirely surrounded by buffalo. Had they known the nature of the animal there was not a particle of danger, for when they are in such large bodies they never stampede as they move together and in one direction. In the year 1860 I had a contract for putting up hay for the stage company, about four miles from Thirty-two Mile Creek station where there was a large bottom of fine grass for hay. All the rest of the country was eaten up and tramped into the earth. There was a small creek that ran into the Blue River right at the upper end of this bottom, and the buffalo were just above this. I was afraid they would come down and tramp the grass into the earth, so I took five men on horses and we worked for four hours

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and did not move them half a mile, only just crowded them a little closer together. We worked away and cut all that bottom, and the buffalo were all that time within three or four hundred yards of us. A short time after I finished my hay a couple of men came in from a trapping expedition on some of the creeks that ran into the Republican River, and they told me that they had seen eight head of big, fine horses on a small creek, so I took another man with me and led an extra horse with blankets, feed, and grub and started early in the morning, and when we had gotten one mile from my ranch we ran right into a body of buffalo. We rode on a trot all day, and I am certain that we rode fifty miles and never saw an acre of ground but had from twenty to fifty buffalo on it. We would just make a lane through them not more than fifty yards wide, and it would all be closed up one hundred yards behind us. When night came we went into the timber and camped. The next day we went back over another route but found it just the same. In the year 1861 Ed S. Stokes, the man who killed Jim Fisk in New York, came from San Francisco on the stage.48 He laid over one day at my ranch to take a buffalo hunt. I had a splendid buffalo horse and I put him on that and I hitched up a couple of pretty good horses to my carriage and we started out. We had to go but two or three miles before we came to a small herd. He wanted to kill the buffalo himself. He had two big dragoon revolvers and I had two more in the carriage and a heavy rifle. He started out after the buffalo, and I let my team go and kept pretty close to him. When he got within one hundred yards of the buffalo he commenced to shoot. I told him to let the horse go up close, but he kept back until he unloaded both his revolvers and came back to the carriage for another. I

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then told him to go up within twenty feet of the buffalo, but he was still afraid and went up to within about forty feet, and at the seventeenth shot he got him down, and then taking my rifle finished him. I have taken the same horse and a revolver and had three buffalo down before it was empty. The first cabin built on the Little Blue was at Oak Grove in Nuckolls County. It was built by Majors, Russell & Waddell to leave their lame cattle when they were freighting west. I am almost positive that my oldest son, James H. Lemmon, Jr., was the first white child born in the Territory of Nebraska. He was born the 20th day of June, 1853, in a tent on the Platte River, not over five miles from where Kearney now stands. I was on my way to California. There was no settlement in Nebraska at the time I crossed the Missouri River about four miles below where Omaha now stands. Peter A. Sarpy had a little cabin in the bottom under the bluff one mile above where I crossed the river.

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Despite a lengthy search, biographical information for Dennis Farrell could not be found.

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Adventures on the Plains, 1865–67 dennis farrell I was a little over twenty-two years of age when I left Leavenworth, Kansas, with the full intention of crossing the plains to California.49 I was slight of build but large in ambition, and while I am not brave, I dared to go anywhere I felt like going. I was out to rough it, and hired to the government as one to help take six hundred head of horses to the different military posts between Leavenworth and Fort Laramie. We started on the 30th of April, 1865. There was a long rope fastened to the tongue of a wagon and stretching forward, and to this rope were tied one hundred horses by their bridles, with five men riders, one at the head of the line, three in the swings, and one on the wheel horse. Our trip was uneventful until we passed Fort Kearny. It was our custom to drive until about noon or later, and then in order to give the horses water, an hour or two of rest and a chance to feed, we picketed them out. We used iron picket pins, a foot and a half long, driven well into the ground, and fifty feet of rope. Some of the men were always out among the horses to prevent them from tangling or being thrown by the ropes. About two days after we left Fort Kearny, suddenly the horses became excited and turned their ears toward the bluffs across the river where Indians were waving their red blankets and yelling their war cry at the top of their voices. The horses stampeded — I was in the midst of them and picket pins flying

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in the air — and ran toward the bluffs on our side of the river. Many of them were killed and many others so badly maimed that they had to be shot. Our military escort of cavalrymen and some of our own men followed, but failed to recover a large number of them. At the first alarm some yelled, “Lie on your face!” and so I did, expecting every instant to be crushed by the horses or killed by flying picket pins. This was the only incident of note until we reached Julesburg, as Fort Sedgwick was then called, and I stopped at this place.50 The string of horses which I was detailed was turned over to the commandant of post. I found employment in the quartermaster’s department under Captain Westbrook. In the fall I left the government employ and bought out old Sam Watt’s interest in the eating house which was a part of the ranch he kept in the military camp at Julesburg. Sam Watt was also postmaster. He was a Missourian, about fifty years old, well posted on frontier life. He was about fifty years of age then; he told me about the old Frenchman, Jules, and how he was attacked and killed by the Indians and the ranch set on fire. Old Jules’ ranch was about a mile and a half below or east of the fort proper, but inside of the four-miles circuit. The story of the cattlemen wearing his ears as watch guards is manufactured out of whole cloth as there were no cattlemen on the plains at that time; there were nothing but bull-whackers, wagonmasters, or mule-drivers. Sam Watt knew Jules personally, and I regret that I cannot recall, at this interesting period, some of the things he told me. In reading “The Great Salt Lake Trail” I find illustrations, purporting to be Old Julesburg when, in fact, they are a picture of Jack Hughes’ (of the firm of Hughes & Bissell of Denver) Julesburg of 1865 and 1866.51 Hughes had a contract with the government to furnish so many hundred cords of

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wood. Old Julesburg did not have any frame houses, but one can see in the picture two of the old adobe houses. Old Julesburg was on the south side of the Platte, and when the railroad builders reached a point opposite with their track, they called their town New Julesburg, and in order to sell lots they advertised the great improvements they were going to make there at once. Captain Westbrook, quartermaster of the post, was a Californian. He was succeeded by Captain Neill, a West Point soldier from Pennsylvania.52 While keeping this eating place at the fort, I boarded some of the officers and occasionally served transient meals to the passengers in the overland stages at two dollars per meal. This would seem high, but flour cost twentyfive dollars for a fifty-pound bag, and other necessaries equally high. I remember the battle with the Indians nine miles west of the fort, near Ackerly’s ranch. Two women were brought to the fort and placed in the hospital tent where they were cared for. It was said one woman was scalped, and whether they lived or died I cannot say, but the reports of the hospital would show. I remember that one morning, about ten o’clock, the Indians made a great dash through the grounds of the fort, below on the Platte River; and for a time all was excitement with rumors that the fort was attacked. New rules were made at the fort that no private business should be carried on within the four-miles limit; therefore old Sam Watt, myself, and others had to go. The reason for this was that Adams, Green & Co. became the sutlers at the fort. That was in the summer of 1866. While at the fort I built a ranch on the main road to Fort Laramie, twenty-two miles up Lodgepole Creek. This ranch was on the west side of the valley and close to a

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dry creek that in the spring used to fill up and become a large stream. It drained a large valley directly back of my ranch in a northwesterly direction and nearly at right angles to Lodgepole Creek valley. Here the history of my settlement, or intended settlement, in Nebraska begins. By some my ranch was called “Farrell’s ranch” and by others, the “Twenty-two Mile ranch.” Most of the time at the ranch life was monotonous; then, again, wagon trains used to stop there and make things quite lively. This section of your state at that time had few ranchmen and no settlers. In the first place, the Indians would make it too uncomfortable for anyone who tried to make a home there, as the Cheyenne wanted it for their hunting grounds, and it was pretty good for that use at that time. They had to go only ten miles east or west to find plenty of antelopes and farther northwest, toward Cheyenne, in the timber section, there were deer and moose. At the ranch we had no trouble in getting antelopes, as they used to show themselves on the bluffs on either side of the valley. One afternoon, about the last of August, 1866, I was riding on an Indian pony from my ranch to Julesburg. At a point about nine miles from Julesburg, as it was getting dark, I was traveling south, the creek at my left and the bluffs my right, when suddenly my pony’s head turned west toward the bluffs and his ears shot backward and very excitedly. He kept this up for quite a while and then began to increase his speed and tried to leave the road making toward the bluffs. I looked in the direction [he] was trying to go and saw what I thought was a band of Indians looming up on the crest of the bluff and riding parallel to my course, in the same direction. It seemed to me a race for life, and I desperately dug the spurs into the pony’s flanks. I had a great struggle to keep him on the road. He seemed to

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want to go to the Indians, as I supposed because he was a real Indian pony. Soon my Indians left the bluffs and were heading me off, still gaining on me and getting closer to the road. I had hoped to beat them, but it was of no use. I then began to think of turning back as there seemed to be about a mile between us; just at this time they had reached the road and were crossing it and to my great relief and astonishment I discovered they were a herd of antelopes going down to the creek to water. I was almost paralyzed from excitement and exhaustion. There were three ranches between Julesburg and the divide — the point where the road left Lodgepole Creek and turned north toward the Platte or Mud Springs; there was one ranch at Mud Springs. The first ranch was twelve miles from Julesburg. It was a temporary affair, made of lumber, and did not last long. I cannot recall the ranchman’s name. My ranch was next, twenty-two miles from Julesburg; the next fifteen miles farther on, and Mud Springs was next to that. The ranch next beyond mine was kept by a Frenchman named Louis Rouillet (?) and Jim Pringle. They did a very large business. They afterward left the ranch and moved to Sidney station, on the Union Pacific Railroad, situated a few miles up the valley. The ranch at Mud Springs was kept by a man named James McArdle, who did a very good business. The last time I saw him he was starting for Texas. My ranch was built of sod. It was about 15x18 feet, and the walls were three feet thick. It had a rear and a front door and three windows, one on either side of the front door and the other on the south side, looking down the road. These windows were built like portholes, beveled off on two sides and bottom, and each had two small panes of glass. I had heavy double battened doors, and the roof was of sod laid

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on poles. I began an addition to the ranch house, in the rear, which I never finished, but used it as a stable for my mules and ponies. On my way from California, twenty-four years ago, from the car windows I saw the walls of the ranch still standing. My two brothers lived with me at the ranch. I had quite a number of men working for me from time to time, making hay in summer and cutting wood in winter. I remember that the names of four of them were Dickenson, Wiley, Tibbetts and Walden, but always called “blueskin.” He was about sixty-five years of age. He drove a stage to and from Chillicothe, Ohio, before there were any railroads at that town. Tobacco juice was always running down his protruding chin. He was a peculiar character and chewed and swore by note. I also had a colored man, Dick Turner, who was very faithful and trustworthy. He went west with Captain Greene to Fort Laramie and was on his way to the states when I got him. In the summer of 1866 I cut and put up about twenty tons of hay. It was not of a very good quality. Some of it I used myself and some of it I sold, but most of it was overrun by freighters’ cattle in the storms of the winter of 1866–67; some of the wagonmasters would pay me a little for the hay they took and others nothing. There was an officer at the fort who, while he was supposed to be giving all his time to the government, did a little private business with a cattle train. I will not mention his name. His cattle not only used my hay in a big storm, in March 1867, but destroyed what might have been used by myself; his wagonmaster gave me a receipt for the hay, but the gallant officer refused to pay. I brought suit in Julesburg, catching him over from the fort with his light wagon and tried to put a lien on it, but the lawyers discovered that there was no jurisdiction in such cases in that part of the

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territory, so I lost the claim. I mention this to show what law-abiding citizens there were in those good old days. In 1867 I cut and put up about fifty tons of hay and put it in two ricks, one of thirty, and the other of twenty tons. The larger rick was burned. In the summer of 1867, the men were making hay on the west side of the creek when the Indians made a dash on them, but as the Indians had been seen before they left the bluffs and were delayed by high water in the creek, the men got away safely. Another day Dick, the colored man, was down fishing and before he discovered them the Indians were almost upon him, but on the other side of the creek. He ran so fast to the ranch that he dropped at the door and could hardly speak. Dick’s steel trap down at the creek caught an otter by the hind leg and he would not be led or driven. Every time Dick pulled him the otter made a dive for Dick and they kept up the game until they got to the ranch and it seemed as though Dick was the worst used up of the two. We caught a coyote in the trap, and we thought we could tame him. We had made a house for him, but after keeping him several months we found he was just as wild as the day we caught him, so let him go. I got up one morning, early, as we had been annoyed all night by coyotes; we thought there were about a thousand of them but, to our surprise, I found only two or three. I shot at them with my old musket, wounding one of them so badly that he had to drag his hind legs after him. He started to run up the cañon and, thinking that a blow of the gun would kill him, I followed him nearly a mile as fast as I could run when he stopped and faced around to fight me. I was so exhausted that I could not raise my gun, so I made up my mind to let him go.

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I was attacked several times by the Indians, usually very early in the morning. According to the New York Herald “the Farrell ranch was burned and they were killed and scalped.” I came very near being killed one day while alone at the ranch. A half dozen Cheyenne, led by Chief White Eye, marched in without ceremony. They were somewhat friendly at first. The chief sat on the counter near a show case and demanded sugar and coffee and a silk handkerchief and other trinkets, and I got a pair of moccasins in exchange. The others wanted whisky. I had a loaded gun outside the counter, and one of the Indians picked it up and pointed it at me; but I lifted the lid of the counter and went out and took the gun from him, which made him very angry. Another of them caught a mouse and brought it over and put it under my nose, ordering me in broken English to eat it. By this time they were getting very ugly and demanded whisky. Two of them started out of the back door to look around. I reached behind the counter and picked up my sixteen shooter rifle and leveled it at the fellow who put the mouse under my nose. He backed out of the door, and then I waved the chief to go after him. After a good deal of grunting he left. When outside, they mounted, yelled, shot at the ranch, whooped and rode away. Generals Sherman and Myers, while on their way to Laramie (I cannot remember the date) went north of the ranch.53 General Sherman came to the ranch with his quartermaster and asked me if he could see the proprietor. I said, “You want to see me, General?” “No,” he said, “I don’t want to see you, I want to see proprietor of the ranch.” “But,” I said, “I own this ranch.” “You!” he said, “You! Why, where did you come from?” I said, “I came from New York.” “What, a York boy out here keeping a ranch! Well! Well!” He got what he wanted.

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I had fifty cords of wood cut at Lawrence’s Fork the winter of 1866–67 and when attempting to haul some of it my two hundred dollar mule was taken by the Indians. I suspect they were white Indians in uniform going to Laramie. As the driver heard that the Indians were coming, he took to a place of safety and when he came out he found the mule had been unhitched, and afterwards learned that some of Uncle Sam’s Indians had passed. I do not now recall the exact date of the Plum Creek massacre when they scalped Mr. Thompson, who, a few years ago, sent his dried scalp from Australia to your society.54 A story of this incident in the New York Herald copied from a paper in your city, recalled it to my mind and I wrote to the editor of the Lincoln paper to strengthen the accuracy of the account, as I was on the train on which this man was taken to Omaha. I was permitted, with a few others, to go into the car where he lay. The man in charge of him raised a cloth from his head and allowed us to look at it. He lay motionless, as though dead, and I was always under the impression that he was dead until I read the Herald’s article. I was on my way to Omaha to buy goods for my ranch. I dealt with Will R. King & Co., large wholesale merchants. The ranchmen from Mud Springs went down a few days ahead of me. We had our goods shipped to the end of the Union Pacific Railroad, and there we loaded our teams. We traveled up the north side of the South Platte, but waited long enough to get a number of teams together to form a corral, as the Indians were ugly at that time. At the end of the second day’s drive we went into camp, forming a close corral. Everything was very quiet, we had finished our supper and it was growing dark when, suddenly, the horses began to be very restless, then to strain their halters. We looked in the same direction and saw a

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band of Indians dashing down bluffs waving red blankets and yelling as loud as they could. It seemed not more than five minutes before they were upon us. We grabbed our guns and rushed for cover — some into, and others under the wagons. The Indians dropped onto the off side of their ponies and rode so fast that it was next to impossible for us to hit them. They answered our fire mostly with bow and arrow. After a while, when it was quite dark, they rode away, as probably they were uncertain of our numbers. They scared us badly, for we thought they were some of the same band that committed the massacre at Plum Creek. When the Union Pacific road reached Julesburg the camp followers moved up with it and the bad element was increased by others of the same kind from below. The town was filled with gambling houses, and tough men and women from “Bitter Creek,” as they used to say. At one time a telegraph operator sent up a notice from Julesburg that he and his friends were coming up to the ranch to clean me out, but they failed to come. At another time a young Pennsylvanian became crazed with Julesburg liquor and when he reached the ranch he wanted to run everybody and everything. I objected to the new manager, and then he grabbed the weights from the counter and let fly at me, one after another. He next pulled a little pocket revolver, rushed at me, and pressed it against my forehead; but just at that moment some one struck him and he fell to the floor, and then some of his friends took him out of the ranch. These were some of the little pleasantries of frontier ranching. In the fall of 1867, having left the ranch for lack of business, I moved down near the creek and near the hay which I afterwards sold at twelve dollars a ton to Captain O’Brien.

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From there I moved to the Black Hills, between Laramie City and Cheyenne, where I stayed all winter. This ended my stay in Nebraska. I tried to file a government claim to the land on the bottom in front of the ranch but it was only a squatter’s right, and I never went any further in the matter. I served in the army from 1861 to 1863.

Harriet Leighton’s account of the prohibition crusade is as stirring as is her praise of the women who entered the “stronghold of Satan” to save mankind from “this devastating scourge.” She may have been a member of the Independent Order of Good Templars, which was the first temperance organization in Nebraska, founded 1869. Her crusade in the 1870s was against considerable odds. In 1871 nearly two-thirds of Nebraska voters opposed a statewide ban on alcohol consumption.55 The prohibition lobby did win minor victories such as licensing requirements for producers and retailers of alcoholic beverages. In 1919 Nebraska was added to the states ratifying the Eighteenth Amendment to the Constitution approving prohibition. Mrs. Leighton had died in 1917.

Reminiscences of the Crusade in Nebraska mrs. harriet w. leighton This midwinter meeting of the old settlers’ reunion has been looked forward to with happy anticipations by each member, I am sure.56 In my poverty of expression I have been requested to write, for this occasion, a few reminiscences of “Nebraska Woman’s Crusade,” that wonderful uprising of women which occurred December 1873 and 1874. In behalf of the noble women who participated in that

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movement, many of whom are yet doing yeoman’s work in their struggle with one of the greatest problems of the age, I take pleasure in acceding to the request. There have been crusades and crusades, but only one “Woman’s Crusade.” Many times has the question been asked, “What necessitated the crusade?” What is its mission? The spiritual vision necessary to a correct understanding of Scriptural truth is the only medium through which the crusade can be intelligently discerned and its mission interpreted. The esprit de corps of the inspired army of Christian women will always be an enigma to those who never came within the radius of its divine influence. The movement had no precedent. It owed its origin to no church, organization, or individual. Neither was it the result or outgrowth of previous effort. It was independent of all human agencies, except as individuals were used as God’s instruments. “It is of the Lord” was the universal sentiment. The crusade, we believe, was a call from God to the women of the nineteenth century, bidding them to arouse and startle the world, making known the enormity and strength to which the gigantic liquor traffic had grown. The hour was crucial. Four years of civil war had left its blight upon the morals of the people. Temperance laws, when any existed, were dead letters on statute books. Reform sentiment had ebbed down to the low, dead levels of despair and apathy. Old methods failed to arouse the people. The saloon long had been coming into the home, blighting its loveliness, destroying hopes, wrecking the brightest intellects, and making an army of suffering women and children, widows and orphans. What could woman do? For years multiplied by years she had been the greatest sufferer from this devastating

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scourge. A great cry went up to God from stricken homes. It was the Egyptian cry. The dead were there, slain through strong drink. Father, son, husband, brother, and the whole land moaned. Hundreds and thousands of the flower of American manhood were bound in chains to the monster alcohol. Thousands annually scourged to death by this haughty Nero. Tens of thousands of mothers were weeping, begging piteously for life of sons, heartbroken wives pleading for idolized husbands; and while their prayer was yet on their white lips, the poor, degraded, dishonored victims were launched into a drunkard’s eternity, unprepared. Thousands of new devotees were constantly pressing forward into the ranks of drunkards; for the sacrifice of human life was unceasing, and with rites as monstrous as those of the Druids, taking ofttimes the fairest and best out of homes to propitiate this idol — the great Moloch of intemperance. But what could woman do, we ask again, to keep the demon from her hearthstone, who was plotting the destruction of her home, sitting even upon the edge of the cradle, waiting for its victim? She had no help from man, no expectation from the legislature, nor faith to believe that the vile, reeking traffic would be bound hand and foot by the strong arm of the law. She could only go with her sorrow to Jesus and tell it to Him. The cry that went up to heaven from wretched wives and agonized mothers was heard. God said to the womanhood of the land, “Arise! Go forward!” It has always been a precious thought to me that whenever the Lord has a work to be done He has somebody ready to do it. In this work it was to be that of woman. It was through the discipline of great sorrow and suffering that

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the women of this land were prepared for the work God had for them to do. God’s command was heeded, and women went out from palace and cottage to help redeem our native land from its greatest foe. The banner of the cross was spread over them, and “God wills it” became their watchword. The crusade fire first began in southern Ohio, at Hillsboro, where the liquor traffic for weeks was shaken to its center. Phenomenal was the success attending the work everywhere as it spread from town to city, city to state. The whole country was startled at the uprising. It was like the firing of the first gun at Fort Sumter. At once it became the topic of the religious and secular press. It was discussed in centers of trade, on street corners, everywhere all over the land. The idea of saloon visitation, at first, was appalling to cultured Christian women. Many a one said, “Surely God does not require this of me!” Yet, after going to their Bibles and closets for light and guidance, God revealed to them His will. Many responded, saying, “Here, Lord, am I! Send me!” Hundreds went out who had never before heard the sound of their own voices in public. The joy that came to each woman that participated in the crusade will only be exceeded in the great beyond. The work continued to spread. Women prayed in billiard rooms and before bars. Their voices were heard in beer gardens, in warehouses, and along the docks. Songs and prayers were heard above the confusion that reigned. Never were such prayers offered, and such earnest appeals, as during the crusade. In some of the larger cities the women were mobbed and imprisoned three months for praying and laboring for the overthrow of the liquor traffic. We, of this state, listened and wondered. Shortly

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the crusade fire was kindled in our capital city, the light of which may never grow dim. Memory lingers very tenderly, as I look back through the mists of the years that have gone so swiftly, and I seem to see again that band of noble, cultured women — classical education many of them possessed; not illiterate women made up that band, as so many have formed the idea in their mind — came together to counsel and plan for the crusade work here. A feeling of tender compassion for the suffering multitude under the power of the liquor traffic took control of hearts, and with one accord we gathered to our altars of prayer. I see again that band of women — small at first, afterwards numbering hundreds — marching up and down our street, and I feel the magnetism of the impulse that sent them forth. The minutest details of the crusade days are photographed in every crusader’s heart and hanging in the “halls of memory” pictures that time can never efface. Who can forget those meetings where the pledge and cross came together? I see through the haze of time that crusade brigade sweep along over our city. The “Devil’s Den” is flanked, and foothold obtained that some day will bring the promised relief to those waiting through the silent hours of the night, “watching for the morning” of that promised day. I seem to hear again the singing of the “Rock of Ages” hymn and “Give to the winds thy fears” and prayer ascending to heaven’s altar from saloon centers. It tells that “the battle is on.” An inspiration from the God of Battles fired the hearts of these women led by brave leaders, many of whom are now silent in death. The first saloon visited in Lincoln was that of Andrew’s. For men to enter a saloon was no unusual sight, but for women to enter such doors to

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sing and pray was a sight upon which God and His angels had never looked down before. The Lincoln crusade band entered this stronghold of Satan with fear and trembling, yet firm in their belief of duty, joining hands with each other, lest their courage should fail them while in this den of death. Our sainted Mrs. Hardy said to the writer that the saloon was as near like unto the description of the infernal regions as it would be able to liken a place unto. Here was heard the clinking of glasses; the most fearful oaths ever uttered over gambling scenes. Here was seen the passing in and out of young men with life and hope before them, old men with life and hope behind them; gray hair in the saloon, and clustering brown curls, dignified, manhood, those who like to be called business men, men in respectable places, men wielding the pen that educates the world — this was the class of men they found inside of those walls. What a revelation! What a train of unthought and unseen things startled the vision of these women! How their hearts went out in motherly sympathy to the sweet, boyish faces of many a beautiful boy away from home, and the mother whose hands had lovingly caressed him. Stirring addresses were made and appeals given asking each to reform and lead a new life. Pledges were given by some present, who resolved to live a life of sobriety henceforth. In Kleutsch’s saloon the band gathered for service one night. There was present also a large gathering of men. The prayer and song service had closed and the women had just crossed the threshold of the saloon, going to their homes, when suddenly the floor gave way, but God shielded the women from harm and danger. One other evening they were holding a meeting in the same saloon, when suddenly the

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lights were extinguished. The proprietor made his exit and locked the praying women inside. They went on with their songs and prayers in the darkness. At a late hour the back door was taken off its hinges, and the women, like unto Daniel in the lions’ den, escaped unharmed. By whom God sent His delivering angel it is not known to this day. Day and night were these meetings held in different saloons and elsewhere. Liquor dealers blanched white as they saw the women, numbering hundreds, entering their strongholds of sin. The effect on proprietor and customers was overwhelming. Where bacchanalian revel and riots had heretofore been held, now ascended a volume of prayers. No liquor dealer did a flourishing business while the crusade continued. In some instances the women took with them pencil and book, recording the names of men they found in these dark places of sin. In a short time not many men assembled in such places, except a large number who gathered to hear the services of the women, who were working in defense of homes. Many touching instances occurred which time does not permit my mentioning. For two months the crusading was kept up in our city. The saloon keepers asked for protection from the women of the city council. The city council then passed an ordinance in behalf of the men to protect men — not the women. The ordinance read that not more than one woman at a time should enter any saloon, nor more than two congregate on the street. The active form of the crusade shortly ceased. The first work the women did after disbanding was to organize a reading room for the benefit of young men, making a home for many who were strangers here in a strange city. From that small beginning has grown our present city library, of which all

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are justly proud.57 It was our crusade women largely who laid the foundations and paved the way for the charitable institutions in our midst. Largely is it due also to these women, their influence and efforts that we are today called a city of churches and schools, with religious and educational privileges unexcelled. For the fact that we are also a city of saloons, we are willing that the manhood of the city should have the credit. That strange and wonderful movement, “the crusade,” has passed into history, but it lives today in a more wonderful power, in the organization of “The Woman’s Christian Temperance Union.”58 The phase of singing and praying on the street has been done away; but all over the land thousands of women are daily praying to God, asking His blessing on this movement. Many criticized and jeered at the work at first, and said, “Those women will accomplish nothing!” But God did not intend that woman, in a few weeks or months, should annihilate a traffic as old as the world itself and wipe out an evil that men had been battling for a century without. It was only the beginning of the end. The traffic touched by woman’s finger and God’s voice is doomed. Its death knell was sounded when the crusade bells rang forth in 1873. The work of the “White Ribbon Army” is organized today in every English-speaking nation. Its banners float in every land, even in portions of darkest Africa. Had the crusade movement accomplished nothing more than the agitation it has brought about, it would have done a noble work. It has brought an arrest of thought on this question that has come to stay. “The world is awake and its ear is set, Its lips are apart, and its eyelids wet.”

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No intelligent person now believes that the liquor traffic will be much longer legalized by Christian nations. The watchword of the hour is, “Outlaw the saloon, protect the home.” The age of sobriety is marching on. It will be brought about by education, agitation, and legislation — the three combined. The sun will rise and set some day on a world redeemed from the liquor curse. It is God’s own purpose, sure of fulfillment.

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Notes Introduction 1. Beam, “Reminiscences of Early Days in Nebraska,” 292–315.

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1. Indian Country 1. Morton, Illustrated History of Nebraska, 2:215; D. Miller to T. Crawford, September 27, 1845, Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, Council Bluffs Agency (National Archives Microfilm Publication m234, roll 217), Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, nars (hereafter referred to as Council Bluffs Agency with roll number); Statement of Persons Employed . . . for the quarter ending December 31, 1846, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 217. 2. Platt, “Reminiscences of a Teacher among the Nebraska Indians, 1843–1885,” 125–53. 3. Bellevue began as a trading post late in 1822. Ten years later it was sold to the Office of Indian Affairs and converted to the headquarters for the Indian agent. Today Bellevue is one of the largest cities in Nebraska. Jensen, The Fontenelle and Cabanné Trading Posts. 4. Daniel Miller was appointed agent on October 22, 1841, and served until July 1845. Hill, The Office of Indian Affairs, 1824–1840, 52. He did not arrive at the agency until February 15, 1842. Statement of all persons employed, September 30, 1844, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 216. 5. John Jacob Astor’s American Fur Company nearly held a monopoly on the fur trade in the West. In December 1832, Astor sold out to Pratte, Chouteau and Company. Despite this change contemporaries continued to refer to the firm as the American Fur Company or simply the Company. Lecompte, “Pierre Chouteau, Junior,” 9:91–123. 6. Allis’s historical sketch is in this chapter. He was occasionally referred to as Reverend Allis, but Mrs. Platt is correct in pointing out that he was not a minister. The ferocity of the Sioux attacks increased throughout the 1840s. Rev. John Dunbar counted sixty-seven Pawnee fatalities. The Sioux also escaped with two hundred horses and had burned twenty earth lodges. J. Dunbar to D. Greene, July 10, 1843, American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions Archive, Research Publications, Inc., Microfilm, roll 782, frame 44–45, Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts (hereafter referred to as Am. Board with roll and frame numbers).

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notes to pages 3–10 7. The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, or abcfm, was a combined effort primarily by Presbyterians and Congregationalists to establish missions in foreign lands as well as among American Indians. Tracy, History of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. George Belcher Gaston was born in Danby, Tompkins County, New York, in 1814. In 1834 he and his wife, Maria Cummins Gaston, moved to the vicinity of Oberlin, Ohio. The religious fervor in the community undoubtedly contributed to Gaston’s decision to accept a position as assistant missionary with the American Board. He joined the Pawnee mission in 1840. The Gastons left the mission in 1845 and returned to Oberlin. In 1848 they were among the first settlers at Civil Bend, Iowa. Flooding of the Missouri River forced their removal to Tabor, Iowa, in 1852. Gaston died there in 1873. His obituary described him as active and mechanically inclined but “not especially fond of books or study.” Lorin County News, June 12, 1873; G. Gaston to D. Greene, September 2, 1842, Am. Board, roll 782, frame 113–15. Oberlin is about thirty miles southwest of Cleveland, Ohio. 8. Elisha Stephens was the Omaha blacksmith hired on August 5, 1841. He served for three years. J. Hamilton to J. Pilcher, August 5, 1841, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 215; D. Miller to T. Harvey, April 1, 1844, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 216. Albert Fontenelle, the striker or assistant smith, was the son of Lucien Fontenelle. Lucien is discussed in greater detail in Samuel Allis’s essay. 9. Mackinaws were flat-bottomed boats. They were crudely constructed and usually intended for only one downstream trip. 10. The American lotus, or Nelumbo lutea, is a common water plant. 11. The wild potatoes were more often referred to as prairie turnips. Edwin James was at Council Bluffs in 1819 and described the vegetable as “a root resembling a long turnip, about the size of a hen’s egg, with a rough thick skin, and hard pith. It is sometimes eaten raw, and has a sweet taste, but is rather dry; or is dried in the sun, and pulverized, in this state it furnishes the chief ingredient of an excellent soup.” James, Account of an Expedition from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains, 1:294–95. 12. Neither the missionaries nor the agent mentioned ague or any epidemic during Mrs. Platt’s stay with the Pawnees. 13. Dunbar was born in 1804 at Palmer, Massachusetts. He was a student at Auburn Theological Seminary when the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions accepted his application to become a missionary to Indians in the far West. He and Samuel Allis ministered to the Pawnees from 1834 to 1846. Adams, “Biography of John Brown Dunbar,” 99–106. Dunbar traveled with the Grand Pawnee on three of

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notes to pages 11–14 their buffalo hunts, which extended into the Republican River valley. Allis probably never saw the river. He was with the Loup Pawnee, who hunted much further north. 14. John Dougherty was an interpreter for the Office of Indian Affairs before becoming an agent in charge of the Upper Missouri Agency. This included all the tribes north of the Platte River and west of the Missouri River. In 1836 the Council Bluffs agency was created to deal only with the Pawnee, Oto, Missouri, and Omaha Indians in the northern half of present Nebraska. Dougherty was the Council Bluffs agent until he resigned in 1839. Mattes, “John Dougherty,” 8:113–41. As far as is known, Dougherty never wrote about a council on the creek. 15. Mrs. Platt must be referring to John Charles Fremont who explored the West in the 1840s and went on to run for the presidency in 1858. Fremont followed the Platte River to the Rocky Mountains and returned by that route in the fall of 1842, a year before the Platts arrived. Fremont chose more southerly routes for his later expeditions, which were one hundred or more miles from the mission station. None of the other government employees or missionaries mention the event. Fremont, Memoirs of My Life. 16. Indian agents were given the honorary title of major. 17. Agent Daniel Miller gave the Platts his full support. He assured Superintendent of Indian Affairs Thomas H. Harvey that both Mr. and Mrs. Platt “have acquired such a knowledge of the Pawnee Language as to converse with them with much ease.” He thought Mrs. Platt was “admirably calculated to render good service as a Teacher . . . and will attend strictly to the female Department.” D. Miller to T. Harvey, May 1, 1845, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 216. 18. Stephen H. Long wintered at the original Council Bluff in 1819–20. He then went on to explore the Colorado Rockies. James, Account of an Expedition. 19. It is well that Mrs. Platt was cautious. Families at Fort Atkinson on the Missouri, which was occupied from 1819 to 1827, undoubtedly celebrated the Fourth. 20. In 1833 James Mathers and his wife, Sara Clarke Mathers, moved from New York to Plainfield, Illinois, where they built and operated a grist mill and were instrumental in organizing a Congregational Church. They joined the Pawnee mission in April 1842, and James was hired as a farmer. D. Miller to D. Mitchell, April 25, 1842, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 215. On September 1, 1842, the agent doubled his salary to $600 a year and named him superintendent of farming. Statement of Persons Employed . . . on 30th September 1845, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 215.

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notes to pages 14–20 After the Pawnee mission closed in 1846 the Mathers emigrated to Santa Clara County, California. Morgan, Overland in 1846, 220, 224. 21. Henry was the son of missionary Samuel Allis. 22. The mention of fever, ague, and decaying sod suggests that Mrs. Platt was writing about influenza. 23. Spotted Horse was also called Falki by non-Indians. There is nothing in the letters or reports to support Mrs. Platt’s derogatory description of the chief. The whites all conceded he was a Loup chief, but there is no mention that he attained that rank with Agent Dougherty’s help. T. Ranney to J. Greene, January 12, 1846, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 216. James Mathers admitted he had “a high regard for the family of said Falki, as they behave with great propriety for Indians.” J. Mathers’ deposition, December 28, 30, 1844, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 216. 24. In the fall of 1845 Agent Jonathan L. Bean gave gun powder to James Mathers to deliver to the Pawnees as required by the 1833 treaty. When Mathers arrived at the Pawnee village Spotted Horse/Falki demanded the powder and when he was refused, a fight broke out. Mathers did strike Falki with an ax and nearly amputated the chief’s hand. Despite the wound the Loup disarmed Mathers and then used the ax to kill Marcellus Mathers who had come to help his father. When Falki died a short time later, the Loup band was ready to massacre all the whites. Some of the other band chiefs came to the rescue by convincing the Loups to abandon the idea and leave on their winter hunt. The Mathers family left the Pawnee country before the Loups returned, and the matter was not reopened. Dunbar, “Missionary Life among the Pawnee,” 284–85. If there was any rejoicing over Falki’s demise it was never mentioned in any surviving record. Agent Daniel Miller had nominated Marcellus Mathers to be the interpreter. D. Miller to T. Harvey, May 1, 1845, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 216. Thomas Harvey, Miller’s supervisor, rejected the proposal stating, “Mathers I am sure is not qualified to interpret.” T. Harvey to H. Crawford, July 16, 1845, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 216. Mrs. Platt’s opinion of Mathers was not shared by all of the mission community. Mathers was accused of beating Indians and shooting their dogs. One of the agency employees said that Falki asked the agent to fire Mathers. J. Stevens to D. Miller, January 2, 1845, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 217. 25. On June 14 a Sioux war party was discovered in the Pawnee village. The group set fire to some lodges and shot at Samuel Allis. When another party arrived on June 17 the missionaries decided it was too dangerous to remain any longer. J. Dunbar to D. Greene, June 30, 1846, Am. Board, reel 776, frame 422–27.

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notes to pages 21–23 26. After Daniel Miller resigned Jonathan Bean served briefly as agent. Bean was replaced by John Miller, who was hired on July 11, 1846. T. Harvey to W. Medell, August 19, 1846, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 216. 27. In May 1847 the Platts were dismissed by agent John Miller, who turned the children over to Samuel Allis. Executive Documents of the Senate of the United States, 30th Congress, 2d Session, Serial 515, No. 8, 861. 28. In 1857 the Pawnees surrendered their claim to all land except a reservation, which was roughly present-day Nance County, Nebraska. Part of the payment was the establishment of schools to teach “the arts of agriculture and the most useful mechanical arts.” In addition the children would be given a “common-school education.” Kappler, Indian Affairs, Laws and Treaties, 764. Henry W. DePuy began his duties as agent in July 1861. H. DePuy to W. Dole, July 5, 1861, Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, Pawnee Agency (National Archives Microfilm Publication m234, roll 659), Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, nars (hereafter referred to as Pawnee Agency with the roll number). 29. Lester Platt asked Senator James Harlan to support the removal of DePuy, claiming the conditions on the Pawnee reservation were so bad they “cannot be represented on paper but must be seen and felt to be known.” According to Platt, Agent DePuy also kept the Pawnees’ annuity money and as a result the Indians were starving. Alonzo Perkins went to Washington to present the case against DePuy. Platt recommended that Perkins be named agent. Platt also mentioned that Perkins had promised him a job as teacher if Perkins was hired. Apparently it never occurred to Platt that this could be construed as a bribe for his support. L. Platt to J. Harlan, March 5, 1862, Pawnee Agency, roll 659; L. Platte to W. Dole, April 15, 1862, Pawnee Agency, roll 659. Superintendent H. B. Branch investigated the affair and concluded that DePuy was not guilty of any crime but criticized him for being a timid man. Branch accused Platt of trading without a license and condemned Perkins as “a man of bad character.” H. Branch to W. Dole, April 18, 1862, Pawnee Agency, roll 659. In the end Lester Platt won a partial victory. DePuy was terminated after only one year and was replaced by B. F. Lushbaugh. B. Lushbaugh to W. Dole, May 30, 1862, Pawnee Agency, roll 659. 30. A Mormon colony was founded in the spring of 1857 near present Genoa, Nebraska. The Mormon, August 15, 1857. They were forced to abandon it because it was on the Pawnee reservation. 31. President Grant’s peace policy was initiated in 1869. It gave certain Christian churches great authority in the Office of Indian Affairs. The Pawnee reservation was administered by the Society of Friends, or Quakers. Milner, With Good Intentions.

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notes to pages 25–30 32. Alexander Laforce Papin had been a resident trader at the Loup village for a number of years and was married to a Loup woman. J. Dougherty to W. Clark, August 15, 1834, Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, Upper Missouri Agency (National Archives Microfilm Publication m234, roll 883), Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, nars (hereafter referred to as Upper Missouri Agency with roll number). His association with the Pawnees dates at least to 1819 when he witnessed a treaty between the United States and the tribe. Kappler, Indian Affairs, Laws and Treaties, 156–59. 33. H. DePuy to W. Dole, July 26, 1861, Pawnee Agency, roll 659. 34. Allis, “Forty Years among the Indians,” 133–66. 35. Edward Hitchcock was clergyman and geologist who became president of Amherst in 1845. The college was founded in 1821 at Amherst, Massachusetts, and continues to the present. www.amherst.edu. 36. Williams College was founded in 1793 at Williamstown, Massachusetts. Rev. Edward D. Griffin took over the financially struggling institution in 1821. The private liberal arts college survives today. www .williams.edu. 37. Rev. Samuel Parker was the driving force behind an attempt to bring Christianity to the Flathead Indians. He believed they flattened their skulls to honor a pagan God and therefore deserved special Christian help. Parker, Journal of an Exploring Tour. 38. Lyman Beecher was president of Lane Theological Seminary from 1832 to 1853. His liberal views often put him at odds with his fellow Presbyterians. His daughter Harriett married Professor Calvin E. Stowe in 1835. Beecher, The Autobiography of Lyman Beecher. 39. They arrived on May 23, 1834. The fur traders and trappers had left several weeks earlier. S. Parker to D. Greene, May 27, 1834, Am. Board, reel 743, frame 595–99. 40. David Stuart could have provided valuable information. He joined John Jacob Astor’s Pacific Fur Company and sailed on the Tonkin to the Columbia River, where he helped build Fort Astoria in 1811. In 1814 he returned to New York City by way of Canada, and in 1817 he went to Michilimackinac on the straits between lakes Michigan and Huron, where he continued to work for Astor until 1834. Stuart then went to Detroit, where he retired. Peltier, “David Stuart,” 7:281–92. 41. Allis and Dunbar spent the summer of 1834 with missionaries to tribes from eastern states who had recently been resettled in present northeast Kansas. Fort Leavenworth, just north of present Kansas City, Kansas, was founded in May 1827 by troops of the Third Infantry. This military instal-

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notes to pages 30–47 lation was the westernmost outpost of what the missionaries would call civilization. Hunt and Lorence, History of Fort Leavenworth, 1827–1837. 42. Maj. Alexander Ramsay Thompson of the Sixth Infantry was the commander of Fort Leavenworth. He was killed on December 25, 1837. Heitman, Historical Register and Dictionary of the United States Army, 955. Alexander G. Morgan was the fort sutler and postmaster. He had just received a license to trade with the Kickapoo. R. Cummings to E. Herring, November 15, 1834, Upper Missouri Agency, roll 883. 43. The Kickapoo were Algonquian speakers with close ties to the Sauk and Fox. The Kickapoo were divided into the Prairie and Vermilion bands and began moving from central Illinois to Missouri in the 1830s. Gibson, The Kickapoo. Kenekuk, the Vermilion band Kickapoo prophet, had his own interpretation of the Bible blending traditional beliefs and a strong dose of Indian nationalism. Herring, Kenekuk, the Kickapoo Prophet. 44. It was late in October 1834 before Allis and Dunbar reached Pilcher’s post. This trading post was operational by the summer of 1823 or a little earlier. Joshua Pilcher replaced John Cabanne as trader on May 4, 1833. Jensen, The Fontenelle and Cabanné Trading Posts, 15, 23. Although this post and those at Bellevue were sometimes referred to as forts, they were merely a set of buildings, which were not fortified. 45. Frank Guittar was seventeen years old when he made his first trip up the Missouri River in 1826. He would have been an employee of one of the fur companies, perhaps even Chouteau’s. Later in his life he “settled down to ordinary business pursuits” in Council Bluffs, Iowa. Giles and Wright, The History of Pottawattamie County, Iowa, 73. 46. Allis has confused and combined events. The Arikara had left their old homeland in the Dakotas and were in western Nebraska in the 1830s. Gen. William Harney was not on the Platte until 1855. 47. A coal pit or charcoal oven resembled a Pawnee earthlodge. 48. In the spring of 1835 Parker again set out for the Flathead country. He was accompanied by Dr. Marcus Whitman, who had just received his medical degree at a college in Fairfield, Herkimer County, New York. They separated at the trappers rendezvous in the Green River valley in southwestern Wyoming. Parker continued on his tour of exploration while Whitman returned to the East to find volunteers for a mission in Oregon. Drury, Marcus and Narcissa Whitman and the Opening of Old Oregon. Lucien Fontenelle entered the fur trade about 1818. By 1823 he was stationed at Bellevue, the Missouri Fur Company’s post. After the demise of the Missouri company, Fontenelle joined the American Fur Company’s Western Department. He had made several trips to the Rocky Mountains

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notes to pages 48–49 and led the 1835 caravan that hosted Samuel Parker and Marcus Whitman. Trottman, “Lucien Fontenelle,” 5:81–99. Fort Laramie began as a fur trading post in 1834. On June 26, 1849, the adobe post then belonging to the firm of Sublette and Campbell was sold to the U.S. government. Construction of log and timber buildings adjacent to the old structures began the following year. Nadeau, Fort Laramie and the Sioux Indians, 64–65. The Black Hills refer to today’s Laramie Range west of the fort. 49. When Dr. Whitman returned to the East in the fall of 1835 he met and married Narcissa Prentis. Henry Harmon Spaulding had courted Miss Prentis unsuccessfully and then married Miss Eliza Hart. Spaulding had attended Lane Theological Seminary in Cincinnati and was ordained in 1835 at Bath, New York. Drury, Henry Harmon Spaulding, 65. Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Hart were the first white women to cross the Rocky Mountains. Allis became engaged to Emeline Palmer when he lived in Ithaca, New York. She accompanied the Whitmans, Spauldings, and Satterlees on the trip to the West. Allis met her in Liberty, Missouri, where they were married by Reverend Spaulding on April 23, 1836. Martha Ann Mather of Fairfield, Herkerman County, New York, married Benedict Satterlee, a recent graduate from a medical school in Elmira, New York. Mrs. Whitman wrote that Mrs. Satterlee suffered from “a very bad cough and cold which has left her feeble,” and “She is en famelle.” Drury, First White Women over the Rockies, 1:46, 188. Mrs. Satterlee died on April 30, 1836, at Liberty, Missouri. S. Allis to D. Greene, July 14, 1836, Am. Board, reel 743, frame 575. William Henry Gray joined the party unexpectedly at Liberty. He was a mechanic appointed at the last minute by the American Board to accompany the missionaries bound for Oregon. Drury, First White Women over the Rockies, 1:49, 187. 50. Some of the Pawnees moved to the Loup River in the early 1840s. A decade later this area was abandoned to avoid attacks by the Sioux. The tribe resettled along the right bank of the Platte south of Fremont, Nebraska. In the mid-1850s they moved to the Nance County reservation. Grange, Pawnee and Lower Loup Pottery. 51. Dunbar returned to the East in the fall of 1836. He married Esther Smith on January 12, 1837, at Ithaca, New York. Adams, “Biography of John Brown Dunbar,” 99–106. There is one copy of his book at the American Philosophical Society in Philadelphia. 52. Peter Sarpy began his career in the Missouri River fur trade in some minor position in the mid-1820s. By the mid-1830s he had a post in the vicinity of Bellevue and also made successful trades far up the North and South Platte rivers. He continued to expand his business at

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notes to pages 49–50 Bellevue until 1862, when he retired to Plattsmouth, Nebraska. Wickman, “Peter A. Sarpy,” 4:283–96. Varioloid was considered a mild form of smallpox with “very little or no pitting of the skin.” Apparently it was rarely fatal; however, a person with the malady could communicate the deadly form of the disease to another person. Pierce, The Peoples Common Sense Medical Advisor, 411. James Beckwith or Beckwourth was born in Virginia in 1798. His mother was a slave. In 1824 he went to work for William Henry Ashley on a trapping expedition in the Rocky Mountains. For the next forty years Beckwourth traveled throughout the West and had a lifelong association with the Crow tribe. He may have been on the boat with Allis when the smallpox epidemic spread up the Missouri River, but he did not die until 1866. Oswald, “James P. Beckwourth,” 6:37–60. Smallpox was spread up the Missouri River on board the steamboat St. Peters in the spring of 1837. The first case appeared when the boat was near Fort Leavenworth. Agent Dougherty asked the captain to put the man ashore, but the captain refused since the man was in his employ and was needed. By the time the boat reached Bellevue there were several advanced cases of the disease. J. Pilcher to W. Clark, February 5, 1838, Upper Missouri Agency, roll 884. The St. Peters continued upriver to Fort Union and the disease was spread among every tribe that came in contact with the boat. Allis’s estimate that there were twenty thousand fatalities is not excessive. Agent Joshua Pilcher estimated that the disease killed 95 percent of the Mandan, one-third of the Arikara, and half of the Hidatsa. J. Pilcher to W. Clark, September 12, 1838, Upper Missouri Agency, roll 884. The Pawnees contracted the disease from an Oglala Lakota band. It was estimated that two thousand Pawnees died. Hyde, The Pawnee Indians, 197. In the fall of 1839 Dr. John B. Gray went to the Pawnee villages and vaccinated 870 Pawnees who had escaped the epidemic. J. Gray to W. Hamilton, October 24, 1839, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 215. 53. William Bent built his trading post on the upper reaches of the Arkansas River in 1831. His primary customers were the Southern Cheyennes. The post was abandoned in 1849. Lavender, Bent’s Fort. The reconstructed post near La Junta, Colorado, is a National Historic Site. 54. Satterlee was killed early in 1838. That summer John Dunbar wrote what he had learned. His account was similar to that of Allis’s. J. Dunbar to D. Greene, July 27, 1838, Am. Board, reel 782, frame 12–14. John Brown Dunbar, Reverend Dunbar’s son, believed the doctor died at the hands of a “lawless trapper.” Dunbar, “The Pawnee Indians,” 26. Later he suggested the doctor died of exposure and starvation. Adams, “Biography of John Brown Dunbar,” 103. In May 1838 missionary William Henry

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notes to pages 51–54 Gray talked to Peter Sarpy about it. Sarpy told Gray that the Pawnees had killed the doctor to get his fine horse. Gray then learned the horse had died before Satterlee left the Pawnee villages. Gray concluded, “My impression now is stronger than ever that Doct. Saterlee died by the hand of a white man.” Drury, First White Women over the Rockies, 3:244. 55. The Potawatomies were arriving at their new reservation on July 28. Brig. Gen. Henry Atkinson commanded Jefferson Barracks, Missouri. Nichols, General Henry Atkinson. Dr. Edwin James was named the Council Bluffs subagent in charge of the Potawatomi on April 28, 1837. He had been the surgeon at Fort Brady in Michigan. He translated the New Testament into the Ojibwa language. Gammell, History of American Baptist Missions, 320. His agency was in Iowa southeast of Bellevue. 56. Henry Allis died on September 5, 1837. S. Allis to D. Greene, December 17, 1838, Am. Board, reel 782, frame 75–77. 57. Moses and Eliza Wilcox Merrill spent eight years with the combined Oto and Missouri tribes as part of a larger endeavor to bring Baptist Christianity and “civilization” to Plains tribes. They began their labors in 1833. Moses died on February 6, 1840. Merrill, “Personal Sketch of Rev. Moses Merrill,” 157–59. 58. The first mission to the Omahas was an abortive attempt by a Baptist clergyman, Rev. Samuel Curtis. In the summer of 1838 he and his wife established themselves at the Omaha village near present Homer, Nebraska. The Curtises stayed for only a few months and apparently accomplished little or nothing. Agent John Dougherty felt Curtis was “altogether unfit” for the job. The blacksmith left because of threats from some of the tribesmen. J. Dougherty to W. Clark, June 1, 1838, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 215; Mattison, “Indian Missions and Missionaries on the Upper Missouri to 1900,” 134. 59. The Sioux were not yet a problem. Allis and Dunbar wanted missionary reinforcements before moving to the Pawnee villages. The American Board was having financial problems and was unable to fund additional missionaries until 1840. 60. In the spring of 1841 the missionaries left Bellevue and relocated near the Pawnee villages on the Loup River. In the fall of 1842, not 1844, Allis moved to be closer to the Loup band village. J. Dunbar to D. Greene, July 10, 1843, Am. Board, reel 782, frame 44–55. 61. The Allis’ children were Otis E., Henry, and Martha. Potter, “A Note on the Samuel Allis Family,” 3. 62. Allis’s dates are incorrect. He was hired as a teacher in April 1842. D. Miller to D. Mitchell, April 23, 1842, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 215.

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notes to pages 55– 62 He was building the schoolhouse in the summer of 1843. S. Allis to D. Greene, July 21, 1843, Am. Board, reel 782, frame 91–93. 63. Timothy E. Ranney and his wife joined the Pawnee mission in August 1844. He had graduated from Middlebury College, Vermont, and attended Andover Theological Seminary. The American Board offered him a mission in Hawaii, but when this could not be arranged he went to the Pawnees. Ranney, “Letters from the Past,” 119, 126. In 1844 he married Charlotte Taylor, an Ashby, Massachusetts, school teacher. In 1847 the couple went to the Cherokee mission in present Oklahoma. Bullock, Congregational Nebraska, 5. 64. The attack occurred on June 27, 1843. Two weeks later John Dunbar wrote an account of the raid. It is generally similar to Allis’s recollection. Dunbar counted sixty-seven Pawnee fatalities. J. Dunbar to D. Greene, July 10, 1843, Am. Board, reel 782, frame 44–55. Louis LaChapelle was the interpreter. J. Brant to E. Herring, January 20, 1836, Upper Missouri Agency, roll 884. 65. The mission was abandoned on June 17, 1846. J. Dunbar to D. Greene, June 30, 1846, Am. Board, reel 776, frame 422–27. 66. Agent Daniel Miller was not satisfied with Allis’s performance as a teacher, although he admitted that Allis had great influence with the tribe. Lester W. Platt took over in July 1843. D. Miller to D. Mitchell, July 29, 1843, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 215. 67. Agent Miller hired William Cline to be an “Assistant Agriculturalist to the Pawnee Indn’s.” He mentioned that Cline was a young man of good moral character. D. Miller to T. Harvey, May 1, 1845, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 216. 68. In the summer of 1846 George Miller and James Emmett received orders from the church to go on a scouting expedition up the Platte River and find a campsite at or near the Grand Island. About this time word was received that the Pawnee mission on the Loup had come under siege. Miller and Emmitt organized a company and took thirty-two wagons to the village to evacuate the non-Indians and their belongings. While at the Pawnee village Miller and Emmitt met some Poncas who convinced them that it would be dangerous to winter at Grand Island and invited them to spend the winter at their village near the mouth of the Niobrara River. They accepted, arriving at the Ponca village on August 24, 1846. The winter with the Poncas did provide an opportunity to scout the Niobrara as a possible route to the West. Miller and company returned to winter quarters in the spring. Bennett, “Mormon Renegade,” 217–33. 69. The Ranneys retired in Vermont. Mrs. Ranney died in 1874, and her husband passed away in 1884. Ranney, “Letters from the Past,” 222.

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notes to pages 62– 66

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70. James W. Denver negotiated the treaty in late September 1857. The treaty was not ratified until March 31, 1858. Kappler, Indian Affairs, Laws and Treaties, 764. 71. William W. Dennison accepted the position of agent for the Oto on March 3, 1857. W. Dennison to A. Cumming, March 3, 1857, Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, Oto Agency (National Archives Microfilm Publication m234, roll 652), Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, nars (hereafter cited as Oto Agency with roll number). Dennison submitted a request to pay Allis an additional $300 for the extra time he served in Washington. W. Dennison to C. Mix, January 9, 1858, Oto Agency, roll 652. 72. Henry W. Dupuy replaced Agent J. L. Gillis as Pawnee agent at Genoa, Nebraska, on June 8, 1861. H. Branch to C. Mix, June 14, 1861, Pawnee Agency, roll 659. 73. Capt. Alfred Sully was with the Second Infantry. He was promoted to major general during the Civil War. Heitman, Historical Register, 935. Lt. Thomas J. Berry resigned from the Second Dragoons on January 28, 1861, and joined the Confederate army. Colonel Berry died in 1865. Heitman, Historical Register, 215. Fort Kearny was established in 1848 to protect emigrants on the Oregon Trail. Troops were withdrawn in May 1871. Willman, “The History of Fort Kearny,” 210–326. Capt. Thomas B. S. Todd described the fort during a brief visit in June 1855: It is situated on a low level plain about 2 miles from the Platte & the same distance from the Sandhills & is an open work. Comg [Commanding] officers quarters & hospital on one side a block of officers quarters on the right calculated for four and with the most miserable arrangements either for comfort or convenience being upstairs and down stairs for each two. On the third side is one block of Company quarters & on the fourth a guard house and sod store rooms. The quarters for the laundresses are built of adobes and sod, so are the stables. Take it altogether it is the most undesirable place I have ever seen in the army. Mattison, “The Harney Expedition against the Sioux,” 100. 74. There are at least a dozen accounts of the Rawhide Creek fable. Depending on who was telling the story it happened sometime between 1850 and 1870 in eastern Nebraska or westward into eastern Wyoming. The authors of these accounts all admit they were not witnesses but were relating what had been told to them. 75. Pilcher was named superintendent early in 1839. He served for two

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notes to pages 67–74 years and then lost the job when there was a change in administration in Washington. Pilcher died on June 5, 1843. Sunder, Joshua Pilcher. 76. Narcisse Leclerc was one of Cabanne’s competitors in 1832. Leclerc was coming up the river with a boatload of trade goods including 250 gallons of alcohol, which had been banned from Indian country by federal law. Sarpy was sent to make a citizen’s arrest, supposedly to uphold the law but more likely to lessen competition in the trade. Leclerc claimed the alcohol was for his employees and not for the Indian trade. Government officials accepted this explanation. Cabanne was charged with false arrest and lost his trader’s license. Jensen, The Fontenelle and Cabanné Trading Posts, 22. 77. Andrew Drips was a longtime associate of Fontenelle’s in the fur trade. In 1840 he was in charge of the Upper Missouri Agency, hence the honorary title of major. Carver, “Andrew Drips,” 8:143–56. 78. Henry Fontenelle married Emily Papin, daughter of Alexander Laforce Papin. Eva Mahoney, “Girlhood Friend Meets Emily Fontenelle, 100,” Omaha World Herald, November 24, 1929. 79. Rev. William Hamilton and his wife were missionaries to the Iowa and Sac Indians in northeast Kansas in 1837. In 1853 they came to Bellevue to begin their mission to the Omahas. Hamilton, “Autobiography of Rev. William Hamilton,” 60–73. Samuel and Eliza Irvin also ministered to the Iowa, Sac, and Fox beginning in 1837. Plank, “The Iowa, Sac, and Fox Mission,” 312–25. 80. Stephen Decatur Bross worked for Peter Sarpy and then settled near present Decatur, Nebraska. In the mid-1860s he moved to the Georgetown, Colorado, area. He died in 1889. MacMurphy, “Some Frenchmen of Early Days on the Missouri River,” 57, 62. 81. This occurred in the summer of 1835. Rev. Samuel Parker was at Bellevue about this time and he heard that a Mr. Readman, a Fontenelle employee, killed Garrow. Hulbert and Hulbert, Marcus Whitman, Crusader, 87–88, 94–95. 82. MacMurphy and Mullen, “The Romance of the Fontenelle Family,” 115–17. 83. Fontenelle, “History of the Omaha Indians,” 77–83. For a detailed ethnology and history, see Fletcher and LaFlesche, The Omaha Tribe. This was originally published by the Smithsonian Institution, Bureau of American Ethnology in 1911. 84. The quarry is today’s Pipestone National Monument near the southwest corner of Minnesota. 85. Archaeologists have identified the Homer archaeological site and determined it was founded about 1775. O’Shay and Ludwickson, Archeology and Ethnohistory of the Omaha Indians.

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notes to pages 75–82 86. Blackbird died about 1802. His portrait is not in the Louvre. Recent research suggests it was Blackbird’s grandson who was photographed, and this may have been exhibited for a time in the Paris museum. Personal communication with John Ludwickson, March 11, 2003. 87. The Omahas moved from the Homer site to the Elkhorn River in 1820 and stayed there until 1834. It was aggression by the Iowa and Sauk Indians rather than the Sioux that prompted the move. O’Shay and Ludwickson, Archeology and Ethnohistory of the Omaha Indians, 37. 88. The Omahas retuned to Homer in 1834. O’Shay and Ludwickson, Archeology and Ethnohistory of the Omaha Indians, 37. This time it was raids by the Sioux that forced them to abandon the Missouri River site and return to the Elkhorn River. D. Miller to D. Mitchell, April 3, 1842, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 215. The Omahas made one more attempt to reoccupy the Homer site. Attacks by the Sioux resumed, and after two or perhaps three years they abandoned the site. In 1845 the Omahas settled a few miles north of the agency at present Bellevue, Nebraska. J. Bean to T. Harvey, December 31, 1845, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 216. 89. In May 1846, Edmund McKinney and S. M. Irvin representing the Presbyterian Board of Missions arrived in Bellevue to discuss with the agent and the Indians the possibility of a mission in the vicinity. Mattison, “Indian Missions and Missionaries on the Upper Missouri to 1900,” 134. The McKinney family returned on September 2 and built a house north of the agency and later constructed a large boarding school. E. McKinney to D. Miller, September 16, 1847, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 217. Logan Fontenelle was the author’s elder brother. Big Elk was buried on the bluff top overlooking Bellevue. His remains were moved to the Bellevue cemetery in 1954, when housing construction threatened the original burial site. Omaha World Herald, September 13, 1954. 90. George Hepner was on his way to his new position as Council Bluffs agent in August 1854. A. Cumming to G. Manypenny, August 17, 1854, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 218. 91. There is nothing to suggest that Commissioner George W. Manypenny visited the Omahas. About this time the new agent, James Gatewood, did pay them a visit and discussed a treaty. Gatewood, “Council Bluffs Agency,” 105–10. 92. The reservation is in present Thurston County, Nebraska. Kappler, Indian Affairs, Laws and Treaties, 611–14. 93. According to the agent six Omahas were killed by the Sioux in July 1855. G. Hepner to A. Cumming, August 4, 1855, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 218. 94. Anderson, “At Bellevue in the Thirties,” 72–77. The editor explained,

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notes to pages 82–86 “The first page of Mrs. Anderson’s interesting story is unaccountably missing, so that whom she appraised as the most noted men of Bellevue may only be conjectured.” 95. Dunbar and Allis lived in Bellevue until May 1841, when they moved to the Pawnee villages in present Nance County, Nebraska. 96. In her diary of July 13, 1839, Mrs. Merrill mentioned that “Phebe has professed to be a disciple and been baptized but has been a great trial to me.” The great trial was not explained but Reverend Merrill had threatened to sell her to her former master. Moses Merrill Collection, ms 432, Nebraska State Historical Society, Lincoln, Nebraska. Robert Dougherty was not mentioned in any of the known Bellevue records. 97. Mrs. Satterlee died on April 30, 1836, at Liberty, Missouri, not at the mission. Her husband was killed early in 1838. 98. The “romance and fiction” surrounding Kit Carson has been examined by Dunlay, Kit Carson and the Indians. 99. Fontenelle was married to Bright Sun, an Omaha woman. There is nothing to suggest, nor is it likely, that he ever “stayed amongst the Sioux.” 100. Mrs. Anderson’s account is a little closer to the truth. An Iowa Indian had killed Mrs. Fontenelle’s brother and sister, probably during a raid on the Omaha village. She learned the identity of the man, and when she found him in a drunken stupor in Bellevue, she split his head open with an ax. At this time Lucien Fontenelle was preparing to deliver supplies to trappers in the Rocky Mountains. To avoid any further confrontations he took his wife with him. They traveled up the Platte River valley but not on a steamboat. S. Parker to D. Greene, June 9, 1835, in Hulbert and Hulbert, Marcus Whitman, Crusader, 87; J. Dougherty to W. Clark, July 16, 1835, Upper Missouri Agency, roll 884. 101. It seems unlikely that Fontenelle committed suicide. Father J. P. DeSmet recalled administrating the last rites to him before he died. Trottman, “Lucien Fontenelle,” 99. 102. Mrs. Anderson includes details that cannot be verified. Moses Merrill was there when Iatan was killed and wrote the following in his diary on April 28, 1837: Soon after dinner received intelligence that the wives of Itan who absconded a few weeks ago, had returned, together with the two young men who had taken them. The chief had previously declared that he would kill one of the young men the first opportunity. He was not in the village at the time the young men came in. He had to pass the mission house after he received

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notes to pages 90– 92 the intelligence; and as he passed, walking rapidly, Mrs. Merrill and myself went out to see him and dissuade him from his purpose. We pled with him, but in vain. We warned him of the consequences, but to no effect. He was determined upon revenge, and hastened on his way. The two young men, aware of the design of the chief, had entered the village singing the war song as a kind of challenge. They had taken their stand in some timber near the village with weapons of death. Mr. Martin Dorion, the interpreter, accompanied the chief, endeavoring to pacify his rage and prevent strife; but to no purpose. The chief fired a musket at one of the young men, (and discharged a pistol at him afterwards) and missed him. In a moment one of the chief’s friends shot the same young man, on which he fell. He, however, soon raised his rifle and shot the interpreter through the right arm, and the chief through the body. Immediately, a brother or near relation of the one first wounded shot Itan a second time, on which another of Itan’s friends shot him through the body. Soon a third young man shot Itan through the body. He then shared the same fate of his predecessor. These three young men are Otoes and died the same evening.

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Merrill, “Extracts from the Diary of Moses Merrill,” 181–82. Agent Dougherty confirmed the death of Iatan and four others in a “dispute” concerning two young women. J. Dougherty to W. Clark, June 28, 1837, Council Bluffs Agency, roll 215. 2. Military Campaigns and Army Life 1. Curtis, “John Milton Thayer,” 28 (1947): 225–38; 29 (1948): 55–68, 134–50. 2. Thayer, “My Very First Visit to the Pawnee Village in 1855,” 219–27. This contained a note, “Read Before The Annual Meeting of the Nebraska State Historical Society.” 3. Thayer married Mary Torrey Allen in 1843. They had six children. Lincoln Daily Star, March 20, 1906. 4. Mark W. Izard was appointed by the president to succeed Burt as the governor of the territory. He arrived from Arkansas on February 20, 1855. He resigned on October 25, 1857. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 113. 5. On December 23, 1854, Cuming authorized the formation of two regiments, one north and one south of the Platte River. Neighborhoods were encouraged to form companies, elect officers, and acquire weapons. Regimental commanders were appointed by the governor. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 227.

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notes to pages 93–104 6. The Pawnees had two villages on the south side of the Platte River in present Saunders County, Nebraska. The more westerly site was occupied by the Loup and Tappage bands. The eastern village was that of the Grand and Republican bands. Grange, Pawnee and Lower Loup Pottery. 7. Thayer and Origen D. Richardson were both appointed by Governor Izard to council with the Pawnees. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 227. 8. According to the expedition’s report they traveled west from Omaha and along the north side of the Platte. They crossed the river to visit the Loup and Tappage villages. There the chiefs blamed the Poncas for the raids along the Elkhorn River. They recrossed the river and proceeded eastward four miles. Here the Grand and Republican chiefs crossed the river from their village for the meeting. These chiefs also blamed the Poncas. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 227. 9. The editor of Proceedings and Collections inserted, “It was May 25.” 10. Thayer, “The Pawnee War of 1859,” 231–46. The article begins with the following note: “At the annual meeting of the Nebraska State Historical Society, January 10, 1900, General John M. Thayer was introduced by President J. Sterling Morton, and spoke without notes upon the Pawnee campaign of 1859. His address was taken down in shorthand and prepared for publication. The introductory remarks of President Morton and General Thayer’s address are given in full in the following pages.” Pres. J. Sterling Morton’s comments were limited to an introduction of John Thayer. 11. Samuel W. Black was appointed governor of the Nebraska Territory on May 2, 1859. He served for two years. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 120–21. 12. J. Sterling Morton was a most successful Nebraska pioneer. He was president of the Nebraska State Historical Society in the early 1900s. James C. Olson, J. Sterling Morton. 13. There were 3,414 Pawnees according to a census taken in the summer of 1861. H. DePuy to Commissioner of Indian Affairs, July 5, 1861, Pawnee Agency, roll 659. 14. Samuel R. Curtis graduated from West Point, served two years in the infantry, and then resigned. He was a colonel in the infantry during the Mexican War and was honorably discharged in 1847. When the Civil War broke out he was promoted to brigadier general in the Union army. Curtis died on December 26, 1866. Heitman, Historical Register, 347. Both Thayer and Hazen refer to Lieutenant Robinson. The officer was Lt. Beverly H. Robertson of the second dragoons of the regular army. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 229; Heitman, Historical Register, 836.

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notes to pages 105–117 15. During the Civil War Gov. Samuel W. Black was a colonel in the Sixty-second Regiment of the Pennsylvania Volunteers. He was killed on June 27, 1862, in a battle at Gaines’ Mills near Richmond, Virginia. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 121. 16. Thayer overestimated the number of warriors. The 1860 census counted 3,414 Pawnees. 17. Considering Samuel Allis’s long association with the Pawnees he would have known the tribe could not field half that number of warriors. Perhaps 1,400 was a number Thayer found more inspiring. Captain Hazen’s estimate of 500 to 600 in the following article is reasonable. 18. Old Peter was Pitalesharo the Grand, chief and signer of the 1857 treaty. Hyde, The Pawnee Indians, 245. In the next article Captain Hazen calls him Carrow-na-Sharrow. 19. Perhaps the invisible agency was Gov. Samuel Black. Another eyewitness, R. W. Hazen, said it was Black who gave the order to hold fire. 20. Depredations continued but not on the 1859 scale. During the 1860s there was a steady stream of complaints from white settlers accusing the Pawnees of depredations. These were relatively minor, usually consisting of the loss of a horse or cow. The Office of Indian Affairs was very cautious in making payments, which would suggest they thought many claims were fraudulent. 21. The Pawnee scouts were organized in 1864. Danker, “The North Brothers and the Pawnee Scouts,” 161–79. After graduating from West Point, George Crook was assigned to the Fourth Infantry on July 1, 1852. By 1873 he had risen to the rank of brigadier general. Crook died on March 21, 1890. Robinson, General Crook and the Western Frontier. 22. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1464; Fremont Daily Herald, January 8, 1897; Hazen, The History of the Pawnee Indians. 23. Hazen, “The Pawnee Indian War, 1859,” 279–86. A note precedes the article: “Reprinted from the Omaha Daily Bee, February 17, 1890. R. W. Hazen, who was captain of a company organized at Fremont in 1858, for the protection of the settlers from Indian depredations in those early days, contributes to the Tribune of that city the following interesting account of what is known as the Pawnee war.” 24. Archaeologists have identified a Pawnee village site near Hordville, Nebraska, that is opposite the “Lone Tree.” However, in 1851 the Pawnees moved further east to sites south of Fremont. Grange, Pawnee and Lower Loup Pottery, 20, 24. 25. Hazen seems to have compressed time and space. There were two villages on the south side of the Platte nearly opposite Fremont. They were founded about 1851. The Pawnees moved north of the Platte River

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notes to pages 117–132 to their reservation in present Nance County, Nebraska, in the fall of 1859. Grange, Pawnee and Lower Loup Pottery, 18. 26. Thomas H. Parks lived northeast of Scribner, Nebraska. He left shortly after the Pawnee war. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 671. His military rank is honorary. 27. The wounded man’s name may have been Peterson. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 599. 28. Robinson’s mill was on Pebble Creek near present Scribner, Nebraska. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 630. 29. The officer was Lt. Beverly H. Robertson. Hazen adds to the confusion when he later refers to Sergeant Robinson. 30. Hazen’s population figures are similar to those provided by the Pawnee agents. 31. Murphy, “The Massacre at Oak Grove Ranch,” 6–28. Murphy was captain of Company A, Seventh Iowa Cavalry. 32. Col. Samuel W. Summers, of the Seventh Iowa Cavalry, was in command at Fort Kearny. Captain Murphy arrived there in late July. Murphy, “The Massacre at Oak Grove Ranch,” 7. 33. Pawnee Ranch was a stage station located a half mile northeast of Deweese, Clay County, Nebraska. J. M. Comstock owned the ranch at the time of the attack. Mattes and Henderson, “The Pony Express,” 99. The attack occurred late in the afternoon of August 7. Wells, A Frontier Life, 81–89. 34. Thomas Brown was sheriff of Gage County in 1864. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 899. 35. The number of wagons range from a low of twenty-five to Murphy’s high of two hundred wagons. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 901. Nine men were killed in the attack. Hagerty, “Indian Raids Along the Platte and Little Blue Rivers,” 244. 36. Little Blue ranch was also a stage station. It was about four miles northwest of present Oak, Nuckolls County, Nebraska. Mattes and Henderson, “The Pony Express,” 99. 37. Mrs. Lucinda Eubanks, her baby boy, her four-year-old daughter Isabelle, and a neighbor, Laura Roper, were captured. Laura and Isabelle were sold to an Arapaho band who released them to the army in September at a council in western Kansas. Mrs. Eubanks and the boy were surrendered about the middle of May 1865. Hagerty, “Indian Raids Along the Platte and Little Blue Rivers,” 176–86, 247–50. 38. William Eubanks and his adult sons William Jr., Joe, and Fred were killed. The two children were James and Henry, sons of William Eubanks Jr. Dora Eubanks also perished. Hagerty, “Indian Raids Along the Platte and Little Blue Rivers,” 245–47.

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notes to pages 133–137 39. The attackers were Cheyenne Indians. It is doubtful that the women could understand even a little of the Algonquian spoken by the Indians. They may have communicated with mixed bloods who could speak English. 40. Murphy was not involved in the release of either of the women. Laura Roper and Isabelle Eubanks were surrendered to the soldiers at Fort Lyon on September 11, 1864. Mrs. Eubanks was freed at Fort Laramie in May 1865. Hagerty, “Indian Raids Along the Platte and Little Blue Rivers,” 249–50. 41. Hafen and Hafen, Powder River Campaigns and Sawyers Expedition, 103n1. Part of Palmer’s story was republished in Powder River Campaigns. 42. Palmer, “History of the Powder River Indian Expedition of 1865,” 197–229. The editor explained that this paper was “read before the Nebraska Commandery of the Military Order of the Loyal Legion of the United States, February 2, 1887.” 43. Brig. Gen. John Hunt Morgan led his Confederate cavalry brigade into Ohio in July 1863. Ramage, Rebel Raider. Captured Confederate soldiers were formed into three infantry regiments of the Union army by the spring of 1865. Brown, The Galvanized Yankees. 44. The Oglala, Two Face, purchased Mrs. Lucinda Eubanks and her baby boy from their Cheyenne captors. He and Blackfoot turned them over to the army at Fort Laramie. Hagerty, “Indian Raids Along the Platte and Little Blue Rivers,” 247–50. According to Col. Thomas Moonlight they bragged about killing whites, so he hanged both of them on May 16, 1865. Utley, Frontiersman in Blue, 317. The Cheyennes attacked a wagon train near Plum Creek Station on August 7, 1864. Hagerty, “Indian Raids Along the Platte and Little Blue Rivers,” 249. The station was southwest of Overton, Nebraska. In his reminiscence James Green recalled that Frank Morton, ten other men, and a cook were killed and Mrs. Morton was taken prisoner. Eubanks and Roper were captured near present Oak, Nebraska, not at Plum Creek. 45. John M. Chivington was a Colorado preacher who turned cavalryman in 1862. The Sand Creek massacre began on the morning of November 29, 1864. At least seventy Cheyennes were killed, including White Antelope. Black Kettle survived only to be killed in another attack four years later. Utley, Frontiersmen in Blue, 231, 294–96. George Bent was wounded but survived. He was born in 1843, the son of trader William Bent and a Cheyenne woman. He died in 1918. Hyde, Life of George Bent Written from His Letters, xvi, 83, 152. On September 3, 1855, Col. William

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notes to pages 138–140 S. Harney routed Little Thunder and his band of about four hundred Brules on Blue Water Creek opposite Ash Hollow. Adams, General William S. Harney, 129–33. 46. Thomas Moonlight became the commanding officer on January 1, 1865. The District of Colorado along with the Nebraska and Utah districts were combined into the District of the Plains on March 28. Brig. Gen. Patrick E. Connor was placed in command. Utley, Frontiersmen in Blue, 307n13. 47. Patrick E. Connor was born in Ireland in 1820. His parents brought him at an early age to New York City. He enlisted in the army at nineteen and later served in the Mexican War under Gen. Zachary Taylor and Albert Sidney Johnston. As a captain he distinguished himself, and he was wounded in battle. After the war he joined the gold rush and went to California. With the coming of the Civil War, Connor offered his services and was mustered in on September 3, 1861, as colonel of the Third California Infantry. When Indian troubles developed on the overland mail route, Connor and his regiment were ordered east of the Sierras. He set out on July 12, and on August 6, 1862, he assumed command of the Military District of Utah. In October he established Camp Douglas, three miles east of Salt Lake City. Connor was mustered out on April 30, 1866. He remained in Utah, where he was actively engaged in the development of the mining industry. He died on December 17, 1891, at Salt Lake City. Rogers, Soldiers of the Overland. 48. Capt. William D. Fouts was escorting some presumably friendly Lakotas from Fort Laramie to Fort Kearny when he and four of his soldiers were killed by these same Lakotas. Colonel Moonlight left Fort Laramie in pursuit of the Indians. On June 17 the Sioux surprised Moonlight’s force and ran off all their horses. Moonlight and his men had to walk some 120 miles back to Fort Laramie. Rogers, Soldiers of the Overland, 318. 49. Fort Riley, established in May 1853, continues today in east-central Kansas. Prucha, A Guide to the Military Posts of the United States, 102. 50. An outpost at Mud Springs served as a telegraph, stage, and Pony Express station. The site is about six miles north of Dalton, Cheyenne County, Nebraska. In 1864 volunteer troops built a bridge over the North Platte River at present Casper, Wyoming. The nearby Fort Caspar was occupied until 1867. Prucha, A Guide to the Military Posts of the United States, 65. Fort Halleck was established in 1862 and abandoned in 1866. It was near the town of Elk Mountain, Wyoming. Prucha, A Guide to the Military Posts of the United States, 77.

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notes to pages 141–151 51. The Black Hills mentioned here are in western South Dakota. 52. Troops from Fort Laramie and Fort Mitchell rushed to Mud Springs in early February. An estimated one thousand warriors were driven from the vicinity. In spite of the numbers involved this was a comparatively minor skirmish. Henderson, “The Story of Mud Springs,” 114–16. 53. Colonel Connor commanded the expedition up the Bozeman Trail from Fort Laramie. Col. Nelson Cole commanded another column out of Omaha traveling in a northwesterly direction passing the east side of the Black Hills and on to the Rosebud. The third column was under Lt. Col. Samuel Walker. This unit passed near the headwaters of the Niobrara River and skirted the west side of the Black Hills to join Cole. More than 2,500 soldiers were involved. Utley, Frontiersmen in Blue, 324. 54. Palmer blamed the wrong unit for the mutiny. On July 21, 1865, Connor submitted his report about an attempted revolt. “Part of the First Nebraska Cavalry stationed at Kearny claim, as the war is over, that they are entitled to discharge, and have mutinied. I have ordered Colonel Heath to suppress it with grape and canister, and bring the leaders to trial.” Apparently the grape and canister ended the trouble since nothing further was reported. Hafen and Hafen, Powder River Campaigns and Sawyers Expedition, 38. 55. In late August the Michigan troops founded Fort Connor on the Powder River about forty miles southwest of present Gillette, Wyoming. Prucha, A Guide to the Military Posts of the United States, 101. 56. LaBonte stage station on LaBonte Creek was south of present Douglas, Wyoming. 57. The north fork of the Cheyenne River is today’s Belle Fourche River. 58. Capt. Albert Brown’s command was composed of 116 soldiers and 84 Omaha scouts. Hafen and Hafen, Powder River Campaigns and Sawyers Expedition, 25. 59. Pumpkin Butte is about twenty miles from the river east of present Sussex, Wyoming. 60. Cloud Peak, with an elevation of 13,187 feet, is due west of Buffalo, Wyoming. 61. John M. Bozeman blazed a trail from the vicinity of present Dillon in southwestern Montana to the Oregon Trail in eastern Wyoming in the winter of 1862–63. Although very rugged the trail was much shorter than the old route up the Missouri River. Hebard and Brininstool, The Bozeman Trail. 62. Brothers Frank and Luther North became acquainted with the Pawnees in the late 1850s. Beginning in 1864 they assisted in organizing troops of Pawnee scouts to serve as adjuncts to the army. On seven

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notes to pages 154–171 separate occasions they served for periods of up to a few months. In addition to scouting they fought beside the soldiers against the Lakotas, Cheyennes, and other old enemies. Frank North commanded the scouts on the Powder River. Danker, “The North Brothers and the Pawnee Scouts,” 161–79. Palmer was mistaken. On this occasion the scouts attacked a party of Cheyennes rather than Sioux. Utley, Frontiersmen in Blue, 325. 63. They were probably on Clear Creek in the vicinity of Buffalo, Wyoming. Hafen and Hafen, Powder River Campaigns and Sawyers Expedition, 122n31. 64. Jim Bridger’s exploits were described by J. Cecil Alter in James Bridger: Trapper, Frontiersman, Scout and Guide (Salt Lake City: Shepard Book Co., 1925). DeSmet, a Catholic priest, traveled widely in the West in the 1840s and 1850s. Chittenden, Life, Letters and Travels of Father Pierre-Jean DeSmet, S.J. 65. Fort McKinney was not established until 1876. The original site was near Fort Reno, but two years later it was moved to the vicinity of present Buffalo, Wyoming. It was abandoned in 1894. Prucha, A Guide to the Military Posts of the United States, 89. 66. Palmer’s “grandest view” was northeast of present Sheridan, Wyoming. 67. Palmer was probably using Sheol as a polite term for Hell. 68. The village was on the Tongue River west of present Sheridan, Wyoming. 69. Connor estimated the Cheyenne fatalities at thirty-five. Utley, Frontiersmen in Blue, 326. 70. James A. Sawyers was pioneering a new trail from Sioux City up the Niobrara River and on to the Montana gold fields. There were fifty wagons in his caravan. They were attacked by Oglala and Cheyenne warriors in mid-August north of present Gillette, Wyoming. Utley, Frontiersmen in Blue, 323, 326. 71. If Palmer’s mileage is accurate they did the about-face on the Tongue River at a point north of Brandenberg, Montana. 72. Cole’s command was descending the Powder River. On September 10 they crossed the Little Powder. Cole reported his troops were “reduced to less than quarter rations, and were lowered to the necessity of eating their horses and mules to sustain life.” The situation became even more critical when the soldiers were attacked on three occasions by overwhelming forces of Sioux and Cheyenne warriors. The attackers were held at bay by the soldiers’ light cannons. They were at least forty

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notes to pages 172–193 miles from Palmer’s unit. Hafen and Hafen, Powder River Campaigns and Sawyers Expedition, 81–85. 73. The heroic soldier was Sgt. C. L. Thomas of the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry. Coutant, The History of Wyoming from the Earliest Known Discoveries, 525. 74. Frank Wheaton was a major in 1865. He was promoted to a major general during the Civil War. He retired in 1897. Heitman, Historical Register, 1022. 75. George Frederick Price joined the Second California Cavalry in 1861. He served in the army until his death in 1888. Heitman, Historical Register, 806. 76. The station was a trading post built in 1836 by Lancaster P. Lupton, a former army lieutenant. Lupton succumbed to competition from three nearby posts about 1841. Hafen, “Lancaster P. Lupton,” 2:207–16.

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3. Overland Freighting on the Plains 1. Cole, “Along the Overland Trail in Nebraska in 1852,” 172–81. A note at the beginning reads, “Prepared by Gilbert L. Cole, Beatrice, Neb., for the Annual Meeting of the Nebraska State Historical Society, January 10, 1900.” 2. Capt. Henry W. Wharton was the commanding officer from October 19, 1850, to June 18, 1854. Willman, “The History of Fort Kearny,” 321. 3. Cole undoubtedly meant Colonel Harney’s 1855 attack at Blue Water Creek. 4. Green, “Freighting on the Plains,” 1–6. This was originally published with the misleading title of “Incidents of the Indian Outbreak of 1864 — Freighting on the Plains — Plum Creek Massacre.” 5. Cyrus H. Tabor was hanged on August 28, 1863, for the murder of Isaac H. Neff. It was estimated that two thousand people witnessed the execution. Sorenson, History of Omaha, 143–44. 6. Shinn’s Ferry was about two miles southwest of Schuyler, Nebraska. 7. Cantonment McKean was established in September 1863 on the south side of the Platte River opposite present Maxwell, Nebraska. Later it was renamed Fort Cottonwood and finally Fort McPherson. It was abandoned in 1880. Prucha, A Guide to the Military Posts of the United States, 89. Eugene Ware described Cottonwood Springs on his visit there in 1864: Cottonwood Springs, when we arrived there, was one of the important points on the road. MacDonald had a year or so before our arrival, built, as stated, a cedar-log store building.

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notes to pages 193–218

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The main building was about twenty feet front and forty feet deep, and was two stories high. A wing 50 feet extended to the west. The latter was at the eaves, about eight feet high and fifteen feet deep in the clear. Around it in the rear was a large and defensible corral, which extended to the arroyo coming out of the canyon. It had been a good trading-point with the Indians, and there was a stage station there, and a blacksmith shop kept by a man named Hindman. In the stage station was a telegraph office. There was also on the other side of the road a place where canned goods and liquors were sold, kept by a man named Boyer, who had lost a leg, and whom the Indians called “Hook-sah,” which meant “cut leg.” MacDonald had dug, in front of his store, and cribbed up, an inexhaustible well, which was said to be forty-six feet deep; it was rigged with pulley, chain, and heavy oaken buckets. MacDonald and those at the place had formerly had a good trade with the Indians, but now it was all ended, and they were danger. Ware, The Indian War of 1864, 46. 8. Gilman’s Ranch was southeast of Brady, Nebraska. Mattes and Henderson, “The Pony Express,” 102. 9. The officer was referring to the attack on the Plum Creek station west of Fort Kearny. 10. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1227. 11. Rolfe, “Overland Freighting from Nebraska City,” 279–93. A note states this was “written for the annual meeting of the Nebraska State Historical Society, January 10, 1900, by Hon. D. P. Rolfe, Nebraska City.” 12. Alexander Majors entered the freighting business in 1849. He continued to be the “field man” after William Russell and William Waddell joined him. Majors, Seventy Years on the Frontier. 13. Forty-one buildings were destroyed. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1212. 14. Hill came to Nebraska City in 1856. He was a successful businessman and bank president. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1220. 15. Fort D. A. Russell was not established until 1867. Prucha, A Guide to the Military Posts of the United States, 70. 16. The line to Lincoln was completed in April 1871. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1197. 17. Nielsen, “Moses H. Sydenham.” 18. Sydenham, “Freighting Across the Plains in 1856, a Personal Experience,” 164–84. 19. Daniel Patterson is credited with establishing the first settlement

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notes to pages 222–259 in Jefferson County, Nebraska. It was west of Endicott. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 992. 20. He refers to the Cheyennes who attacked a wagon train near Plum Creek Station on August 7, 1864. 21. On August 19, 1854, Lt. John L. Grattan and twenty-nine soldiers were killed in a battle with the Lakotas. McCann, “The Grattan Massacre,” 8–9. 22. The attack on Little Thunder occurred on September 3, 1855. Adams, General William S. Harney, 129.

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4. White Settlement 1. MacMurphy, “Part of the Making of a Great State,” 1–22. 2. Twain, Life on the Mississippi. 3. The juba was a mixture of European jugs and reels with African rhythms. The dance became popular in the 1840s. Streetswing.com. 4. The treaty with the Omahas was ratified on March 16, 1854. The tribe as a whole received forty thousand dollars a year for three years beginning in 1855. Decreasing amounts were given for the next thirtyseven years. Kappler, Indian Affairs, Laws and Treaties, 454. 5. Experience Estabrook was appointed the first attorney general of Nebraska Territory. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 130. 6. Collier represented Burt County in the Nebraska House of Representatives during one session beginning on September 21, 1858. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 118. 7. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 111, 228. His death date was in a note by the editor of Publications. 8. Johnson, “Nebraska in the Fifties,” 186–96. 9. Thomas B. Cuming was the secretary of Nebraska Territory. He was sworn in as acting governor after the death of Gov. Francis Burt on October 18, 1854. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 106. 10. Giddings and Johnson were chosen in an election in December 1854. Chapman and H. P. Bennett won the second election. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 113. Chapman came to Omaha from Elyria, Ohio, in the fall of 1854. He published The Nebraskian (sic), which was probably the first newspaper published in Nebraska. Sorenson, History of Omaha, 429. 11. Gideon Bennett began operating a ferry boat six miles below Nebraska City in the early 1850s. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1197. 12. Hiram P. Downs had been a sergeant in the regular army. He was a lieutenant colonel in the First Nebraska Volunteers. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 232.

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notes to pages 266–277 The blockhouse was built by the army in 1846. After the soldiers left, civilians used it for numerous purposes until it was torn down in 1864. Harvey, Sketches of the Early Days of Nebraska City, Nebraska Territory, 6. Stephen F. Nuckolls was a banker with varied interests in the development of the territory. He built a brick building in Nebraska City, which he hoped would be the territorial capital. He was also a slave owner. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1200, 1202. 13. Irvine, “Recollections of Omaha,” 150–60. A note explained that this was “read at the Meeting of the Society January 11, 1899.” 14. Augustus Kountze would become the territorial treasurer and later the state treasurer. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 130, 132. 15. The hotel measured twenty-four by forty-eight feet and was made of hewn logs. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1471. 16. There were about thirty log homes and a store at DeSoto when Irvine was there. The county seat was located there in 1858 but was moved to Blair eight years later. DeSoto no longer exists. William Clancy was a member of the original town company. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1473. 17. James S. Stewart was twice elected to the territorial legislature. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1470. 18. The company of Perkins and Allen erected a steam saw mill in 1856. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1472. 19. Z. Vanier started a flour mill in Fort Calhoun in 1858. It was sold to Clarke in 1861. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1472. 20. Lewis and Clark named this area the Council Bluff. The army’s Missouri Expedition spent the winter of 1819–20 on the banks of the Missouri River nearby. In the spring they built Fort Atkinson on higher ground. 21. Apparently Charles D. Davis had a legitimate claim. He sued a trespasser and won the case. Then citizens of Fort Calhoun tried to forcibly remove Davis. He fought back, killing one and wounding two of the attackers. Davis left the settlement in November 1855. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1471–72. 22. The closing of the Western Exchange Bank in Omaha on September 23, 1857, may not have been the first sign of the impending crash in the territory, but it was the most obvious. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 693. 23. President Lincoln chose Alvin Saunders to be governor of Nebraska Territory. Saunders began his duties on May 15, 1861. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 121. 24. Lincoln Daily Star, February 28, 1907; Lincoln Evening News, February 27, 1907.

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notes to pages 277–306 25. Cox, “Reminiscences of Early Days in Nebraska,” 63–81. The editor explained that this was “a paper read before the State Historical Society, January 11th, 1893, by W. W. Cox, of Seward, Neb.” 26. President Buchanan vetoed the bill in 1860. President Lincoln signed the Homestead Act in 1862. 27. Cox was referring to President Lincoln and the Homestead Act. 28. Cox’s figures are similar to those in Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1212. 29. The agent was William W. Dennison. He arrived at the Oto reservation in present Gage County, Nebraska, in May 1857. Dennison abandoned his post on March 1, 1861. An audit revealed a shortage of $7,074.03. Jensen, “The Oto, Missouria, and Agent Dennison,” 47–55. 30. Elvira Gaston Platt and her associates helped Nuckolls’s two slaves escape to Canada in 1858. Nuckolls sued them in district court and won. Morton, Illustrated History of Nebraska, 2:63. 31. John Kagi was Allen Mayhew’s brother-in-law. The myth that “scores and scores” of fleeing slaves found a sanctuary in the cave has been dispelled. Potter, “John Brown’s Cave and the Underground Railroad in Nebraska,” 73–88. 32. Harvey ran the Nebraska City News from October 1861 until August 1865, when he sold it to J. Sterling Morton. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1211. 33. Information in this biographical sketch is from the editor of Proceedings and Collections, 102; and Nebraska State Journal, March 11, 1913. 34. Gregory, “Early Days at the Salt Basin,” 102–10. A note explained that Gregory’s paper was “for the Annual Meeting of the State Historical Society, January 10–11, 1905.” 35. Dr. John A. Crim opened the first drugstore in Nemaha City, Nebraska, in 1860. James Dye was another Nemaha County resident about this time. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1146, 1162. 36. John Cadman served as probate judge in Lancaster County, Nebraska, from 1869 to 1871. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1038. 37. Malloy, “History of the First State Capitol,” 212–16. 38. The territorial capital was in Omaha, but when Nebraska became a state in 1867, it was moved to the tiny community of Lancaster, later Lincoln. The contract to build the capital building was not signed until January 11, 1868. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1042. This may have accounted for the delays Malloy describes later in his account. 39. Robert D. Silver was a junior partner of the firm that won the contract in 1869 to build the first university building. Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 137. 40. Biographical information from Proceedings and Collections, 83.

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notes to pages 306–322 41. Leaming, “Personal Recollections of Early Days in Decatur, Nebraska,” 77–83. 42. Fort Benton had its beginnings as a fur trading post. The army occupied the post from 1869 until 1881. It is near the present town of Fort Benton, Montana. Prucha, A Guide to the Military Posts of the United States, 61. 43. Fear of an Indian uprising led to the formation of the Second Volunteer Cavalry in 1862 led by Robert W. Furnas. The regiment marched up the Missouri River into present North Dakota and fought the battle of Whitestone Hill against the Sioux on September 3, 1863. Jacobson, Whitestone Hill. 44. Each family would receive 160 acres and each unmarried adult would receive a 40-acre plot. Agent Edward Painter began assigning the allotments in the summer of 1869, and by the end of the year the task was completed. E. Painter to S. Janney, December 17, 1869, Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, Omaha Agency (National Archives Microfilm Publication m234, roll 604), Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, nars. 45. Decatur was about three miles from the edge of the Omaha Indian Reservation. 46. Lemmon, “Early Days on the Little Blue,” 127–33. 47. The Oto and Missouri Indian Reservation was about twenty miles east of the Little Blue River. There is no evidence that Confederate soldiers or sympathizers aided or abetted the Sioux and Cheyenne Indians in their attacks in the 1860s. 48. Edward S. Stokes was a business associate of James Fisk. Fisk was very successful but often unscrupulous. The two men were rivals for the attentions of actress Josie Mansfield when Stokes murdered Fisk. Fuller, Jubilee Jim. 49. Farrell, “Adventures on the Plains, 1865–67,” 247–58. 50. Fort Sedgwick was established in May 1864, on the south side of the South Platte River opposite the mouth of Lodgepole Creek. Prucha, A Guide to the Military Posts of the United States, 106–7. 51. Jules was not killed by Indians but by Jack Slade, at his ranch near O’Fallon’s Bluff. It is said that Slade shot off one of Jules’s ears and wore it as a memento. The incident is related in Cody, The Great Salt Lake Trail, 205. 52. Capt. Royal L. Westbrook served in the West throughout the Civil War. Heitman, Historical Register, 1020. Thomas H. Neill entered the military academy in 1843. He retired in 1883. Heitman, Historical Register, 742. The editor of Collections added the following footnote: “A letter from

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notes to pages 327–337 the war department to the editor, under date of January 1914, says: ‘It does not appear from the records of this office that any of the companies of either the 13th or 18th regiment United States Infantry, was at Fort Sedgwick, Colorado, during any part of the year 1865, nor does it appear that Captain P. W. Neill, 18th Infantry, or that an officer named Royal L. Westbrook, was stationed at that fort in that year. Royal L. Westbrook was not an officer in the Regular Army.’” 53. The editor of Collections added the following footnote: “General Sherman started from Fort Sedgwick to Fort Laramie on 25th of August, 1866, and at the rate he traveled, must have passed Farrell’s ranch that day. Brevet Brigadier General William Myers was quartermaster of the department of the Platte.” 54. The editor of Collections added a footnote: “On the seventh of August 1867, Indians attacked a freight train on the Union Pacific Railroad, about six miles west of the new Plum Creek station, now called Lexington, Nebraska. . . . According to contemporary reports, the Indians killed four men and destroyed ten cars and their contents. Thompson’s scalp was deposited in the Omaha public library.” 55. Prohibition was not popular in Nebraska. In 1871 a constitutional convention submitted several proposals to the voters, among which was one for statewide prohibition. Only 6,071 voters (37.4 percent) out of 16,231 were in favor. Olson, History of Nebraska, 181. 56. Leighton, “Reminiscences of the Crusade in Nebraska,” 164–71. 57. The Lincoln City Library was organized on December 18, 1875, by “enterprising citizens.” Andreas, History of the State of Nebraska, 1044. 58. The WCTU was founded in Cleveland, Ohio, in 1874.

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American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions Archive, Research Publications, Inc., Microfilm, Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, Council Bluffs Agency (National Archives Microfilm Publication m234, roll 215–18), Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, nars. Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, Omaha Agency (National Archives Microfilm Publication m234, roll 604), Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, nars. Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, Oto Agency (National Archives Microfilm Publication m234, roll 652), Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, nars. Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, Pawnee Agency (National Archives Microfilm Publication m234, roll 659), Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, nars. Letters Received by the Office of Indian Affairs, Upper Missouri Agency (National Archives Microfilm Publication m234, roll 883–84), Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, nars. Moses Merrill Collection, ms 432, Nebraska State Historical Society, Lincoln, Nebraska. Published Sources Adams, George Rollie. General William S. Harney: Prince of Dragoons. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2001. Adams, Zu. “Biography of John Brown Dunbar.” Collections of the Kansas State Historical Society 10 (1908): 99–106. Alter, J. Cecil. James Bridger: Trapper, Frontiersman, Scout and Guide. Salt Lake City: Shepard Book Co., 1925. Anderson, Gary Clayton. Little Crow: Spokesman for the Sioux. St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 1986. Anderson, Mrs. E. “At Bellevue in the Thirties.” Publications of the Nebraska State Historical Society 19 (1919): 72–77. Andreas, A. T. History of the State of Nebraska. Chicago: Western Historical Company, 1882. Beam, A. C. “Reminiscences of Early Days in Nebraska.” Transactions and Reports of the Nebraska State Historical Society 3 (1892): 292–315.

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bibliogr aphy Beecher, Lyman. The Autobiography of Lyman Beecher. Edited by Barbara M. Cross. Cambridge ma: Harvard University Press, 1961. Bennett, Richard E. “Mormon Renegade: James Emmett at the Vermillion, 1846.” South Dakota History 15 (1985): 217–33. Brown, Dee. The Galvanized Yankees. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1963. Bullock, Motier A. Congregational Nebraska. Lincoln ne: Western Publishing and Engraving Co., 1905. Carver, Harvey L. “Andrew Drips.” The Mountain Men and the Fur Trade of the Far West, edited by LeRoy Hafen, 8:143–56. 10 vols. Glendale: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1971. Chittenden, Hyram Martin. Life, Letters and Travels of Father Pierre-Jean DeSmet, S.J. New York: Francis P. Harper, 1905. Cody, William F. The Great Salt Lake Trail. Topeka ks: Crane Publishing, 1899. Cole, Gilbert L. “Along the Overland Trail in Nebraska in 1852.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 5 (1902): 172–81. Coutant, C. G. The History of Wyoming from the Earliest Known Discoveries. 3 vols. Laramie wy: Chaplin, Spafford and Mathison, 1899. Cox, William W. “Reminiscences of Early Days in Nebraska.” Transactions and Reports 5 (1893): 63–81. Curtis, Earl G. “John Milton Thayer.” Nebraska History 28 (1947): 225–38; 29 (1948): 55–68, 134–50. Danker, Donald F. “The North Brothers and the Pawnee Scouts.” Nebraska History 42 (1961): 161–79. Diffendal, Anne Polk. “A Centennial History of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 1878–1978.” Nebraska History 59 (1978): 310–437. Drury, Clifford M. First White Women over the Rockies. 3 vols. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1963. ———. Henry Harmon Spaulding. Caldwell id: Caxton Printers, 1936. ———. Marcus and Narcissa Whitman and the Opening of Old Oregon. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1973. Dunbar, John. “Missionary Life Among the Pawnee.” Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society 16 (1911): 268–87. Dunbar, John B. “The Pawnee Indians: Their History and Ethnology.” Magazine of American History 4 (1880): 241–79. Dunlay, Tom. Kit Carson and the Indians. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000. Executive Documents of the Senate of the United States. 30th Congress, 2d Session. Document, Serial 515, No. 8: 861. Washington dc: Government Printing Office, 1849.

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bibliogr aphy Farrell, Dennis. “Adventures on the Plains, 1865–67.” Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society 17 (1913): 247–58. Fletcher, Alice C., and Francis LaFlesche. The Omaha Tribe. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1972. Fontenelle, Henry. “History of the Omaha Indians.” Transactions and Reports of the Nebraska State Historical Society 1 (1885): 77–83. Fremont, John Charles. Memoirs of My Life. Chicago: Belford, Clarke and Co., 1887. Fuller, Robert H. Jubilee Jim: The Life of Colonel James Fisk, Jr. New York: Macmillan Co., 1928. Gammell, William. History of American Baptist Missions. Boston: Gould, Kendall and Lincoln, 1849. Gatewood, James M. “Council Bluffs Agency.” Annual Report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs 1853, 105–10. Washington dc: Government Printing Office, 1853. Gibson, A. M. The Kickapoo: Lords of the Middle Border. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1963. Giles, W. T., and Frank M. Wright. The History of Pottawattamie County, Iowa. Chicago: O. L. Baskin and Co., 1883. Grange, Roger T., Jr. Pawnee and Lower Loup Pottery. Lincoln: Nebraska State Historical Society, 1968. Green, James. “Freighting on the Plains.” Publications of the Nebraska State Historical Society 19 (1919): 1–6. Gregory, John S. “Early Days at the Salt Basin.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 10 (1907): 102–10. Hafen, Ann W. “Lancaster P. Lupton.” The Mountain Men and the Fur Trade of the Far West, edited by Leroy R. Hafen, 2:207–16. 10 vols. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1965. Hafen, LeRoy R., and Ann W. Hafen. Powder River Campaigns and Sawyers Expedition of 1865. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1961. Hagerty, Leroy W. “Indian Raids Along the Platte and Little Blue Rivers, 1864–1865.” Nebraska History 28 (1947): 244–54. Hamilton, Rev. William. “Autobiography of Rev. William Hamilton.” Transactions and Reports of the Nebraska State Historical Society 1 (1885): 60–73. Harvey, Augustus F. Sketches of the Early Days of Nebraska City, Nebraska Territory. Nebraska City: Nebraska City News Print, 1875. Hazen, R. W. The History of the Pawnee Indians. Fremont ne: Fremont Tribune, 1893. ———. “The Pawnee Indian War, 1859.” Transactions and Reports of the Nebraska State Historical Society 3 (1892): 279–86.

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bibliogr aphy Hebard, Grace Raymond, and E. A. Brininstool. The Bozeman Trail. 2 vols. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1960. Heitman, Francis B. Historical Register and Dictionary of the United States Army. Washington dc: Government Printing Office, 1903. Henderson, Paul. “The Story of Mud Springs.” Nebraska History 32 (1951): 108–19. Herring, Joseph B. Kenekuk, the Kickapoo Prophet. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1988. Hill, Edward E. The Office of Indian Affairs, 1824–1840, Historical Sketches. New York: Clearwater Publishing Co., 1974. Hulbert, Archer Butler, and Dorothy Printup Hulbert, eds. Marcus Whitman, Crusader. Vol. 6, Overland to the Pacific. Denver: Stewart Commission of Colorado College, 1936. Hunt, Elvid, and W. E. Lorence. History of Fort Leavenworth, 1827–1837. Fort Leavenworth ks: General Service School Press, 1937. Hyde, George. Life of George Bent Written from His Letters. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1968. ———. The Pawnee Indians. Denver: University of Denver Press, 1951. Irvine, C. “Recollections of Omaha.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 5 (1902): 150–60. Jacobson, Clair. Whitestone Hill: The Indians and the Battle. LaCrosse wi: Pine Tree Publishing, 1991. James, Edwin. Account of an Expedition from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains. Edited by Reuben Gold Thwaites. 3 vols. Cleveland: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1905. Jensen, Richard E. The Fontenelle and Cabanné Trading Posts: The History and Archeology of Two Missouri River Sites, 1822–1838. Lincoln: Nebraska State Historical Society, 1998. ———. “The Oto, Missouria, and Agent Dennison.” Nebraska History 59 (1978): 47–55. Johnson, David M. “Nebraska in the Fifties.” Publications of the Nebraska State Historical Society 19 (1919): 186–96. Kappler, Charles J., ed. Indian Affairs, Laws and Treaties. Washington dc: Government Printing Office, 1904. Lavender, David. Bent’s Fort. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1972. Leaming, Capt. S. T. “Personal Recollections of Early Days in Decatur, Nebraska.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 10 (1907): 77–83. Lecompte, Janet. “Pierre Chouteau, Junior.” The Mountain Men and the Fur Trade of the Far West, edited by Leroy R. Hafen, 9:91–123. 10 vols. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1972.

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bibliogr aphy Leighton, Harriet W. “Reminiscences of the Crusade in Nebraska.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 5 (1902): 164–71. Lemmon, J. H. “Early Days on the Little Blue.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 10 (1907): 127–33. MacMurphy, Harriet D., and Cora Phebe Mullen. “The Romance of the Fontenelle Family.” Founders and Patriots of Nebraska, 115–17. Omaha: n.p., 1935. MacMurphy, J. A. “Some Frenchmen of Early Days on the Missouri River.” Transactions and Reports of the Nebraska State Historical Society 5 (1893): 43–63. Majors, Alexander. Seventy Years on the Frontier. Edited by Prentiss Ingraham. Chicago: Rand, McNally and Co., 1893. Malloy, Thomas. “History of the First State Capitol.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 10 (1907): 212–16. Mattes, Merrill J. “John Dougherty.” The Mountain Men and the Fur Trade of the Far West, edited by Leroy R. Hafen, 8:113–41. 10 vols. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co. 1971. Mattes, Merrill, and Paul Henderson. “The Pony Express: Across Nebraska from St. Joseph to Fort Laramie.” Nebraska History 41 (1960): 83–122. Mattison, Ray H. “The Harney Expedition Against the Sioux: The Journal of Capt. John B. S. Todd.” Nebraska History 43 (1962): 89–130. ———. “Indian Missions and Missionaries on the Upper Missouri to 1900.” Nebraska History 38 (1957): 127–54. McCann, Lloyd E. “The Grattan Massacre.” Nebraska History 37 (1956): 1–25. Merrill, Moses. “Extracts from the Diary of Moses Merrill, a Missionary to the Otoe Indians from 1832 to 1840.” Transactions and Reports 4 (1892): 160–91. Merrill, Samuel Pearce. “Personal Sketch of Rev. Moses Merrill.” Transactions and Reports 4 (1892): 157–59. Milner, Clyde A., II. With Good Intentions: Quaker Work among the Pawnees, Otos, and Omahas in the 1870s. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1982. Morgan, Dale, ed. Overland in 1846: Diaries and Letters of the CaliforniaOregon Trail. Georgetown ca: Talisman Press, 1963. Morton, J. Sterling. Illustrated History of Nebraska. 3 vols. Lincoln: Jacob North and Co., 1906. Murphy, Capt. Edward B. “The Massacre at Oak Grove Ranch.” Publications of the Nebraska State Historical Society 19 (1919): 6–28.

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bibliogr aphy Nadeau, Remi. Fort Laramie and the Sioux Indians. Englewood Cliffs nj: Prentice Hall, 1967. Nichols, Roger L. General Henry Atkinson, a Western Military Career. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1965. Nielsen, Margaret Stines. “Moses H. Sydenham: First of the Visionaries.” Buffalo Tales 4, no. 4. http://bchs.us/BTales_198104.htm. Olson, James C. C. J. Sterling Morton. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1942. ———. History of Nebraska. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1966. O’Shay, John M., and John Ludwickson. Archeology and Ethnohistory of the Omaha Indians: The Big Village Site. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1992. Oswald, Delmont R. “James P. Beckwourth.” The Mountain Men and the Fur Trade of the Far West, edited by Leroy R. Hafen, 6:37–60. 10 vols. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1968. Palmer, H. E. “History of the Powder River Indian Expedition of 1865.” Transactions and Reports of the Nebraska State Historical Society 2 (1887): 197–229. Parker, Samuel J. Journal of an Exploring Tour Across the Rocky Mountains. Ithaca ny: n.p., 1840. Peltier, Jerome. “David Stuart.” The Mountain Men and the Fur Trade of the Far West, edited by Leroy R. Hafen, 7:281–92. 10 vols. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1969. Pierce, R. V. The Peoples Common Sense Medical Advisor. Buffalo ny: n.p., 1875. Plank, Prior. “The Iowa, Sac, and Fox Mission and Its Missionaries, Rev. Sam M. Irvin and Wife.” Collections of the Kansas State Historical Society 10 (1908): 312–25. Platt, Elvira Gaston. “Reminiscences of a Teacher among the Nebraska Indians, 1843–1885.” Transactions and Reports of the Nebraska State Historical Society 3 (1892): 125–53. Potter, Gail DeBuse. “A Note on the Samuel Allis Family: Missionaries to the Pawnee, 1834–46.” Nebraska History 67 (1986): 1–7. Potter, James E. “John Brown’s Cave and the Underground Railroad in Nebraska.” Nebraska History 83 (2002): 73–88. Prucha, Francis Paul. A Guide to the Military Posts of the United States. Madison: State Historical Society of Wisconsin, 1964. Ramage, James A. Rebel Raider: The Life of General John Hunt Morgan. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1986. Ranney, C. E. “Letters from the Past.” Vermont Quarterly 21 (1953): 118–27, 200–210, 279–88; 22 (1954): 42–51, 212–22.

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bibliogr aphy Robinson, Charles M., III. General Crook and the Western Frontier. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2001. Rogers, Fred B. Soldiers of the Overland, Being Some Account of the Services of General Patrick Edward Connor and His Volunteers in the Old West. San Francisco: Grabhorn Press, 1938. Rolfe, Deforest P. “Overland Freighting from Nebraska City.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 5 (1902): 279–93. Sorenson, Alfred R. History of Omaha from the Pioneer Days to the Present Time. Omaha: Gibson, Miller and Richardson, 1889. Sunder, John E. Joshua Pilcher: Fur Trader and Indian Agent. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1968. Sydenham, Moses H. “Freighting Across the Plains in 1856, a Personal Experience.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 1 (1894): 164–84. Thayer, John M. “My Very First Visit to the Pawnee Village in 1855.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 10 (1907): 219–27. ———. “The Pawnee War of 1859.” Proceedings and Collections of the Nebraska State Historical Society, 2nd ser., 5 (1902): 231–46. Tracy, Joseph. History of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. New York: M. W. Dodd, 1842. Trottman, Alan C. “Lucien Fontenelle.” The Mountain Men and the Fur Trade of the Far West, edited by Leroy R. Hafen, 5:81–99. 10 vols. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1968. Twain, Mark. Life on the Mississippi. Boston: J. R. Osgood, 1883. Utley, Robert M. Frontiersmen in Blue: The United States Army and the Indian, 1848–1865. New York: Macmillan, 1967. Ware, Eugene. The Indian War of 1864. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1911. Wells, Charles Wesley. A Frontier Life: Sketches and Incidents of Homes in the West. Cincinnati: Jennings and Pye Press, 1902. Wickman, John E. “Peter A. Sarpy.” The Mountain Men and the Fur Trade of the Far West, edited by Leroy R. Hafen, 4:283–96. 10 vols. Glendale ca: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1966. Willman, Lillian M. “The History of Fort Kearny.” Publications of the Nebraska State Historical Society 21 (1930): 210–326.

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Index Adams, Green & Co., 322 African Americans, 45, 49, 82–83, 303–4, 307, 325–26, 346n52, 353n96 ague. See influenza alcohol: and Nebraska Territory, 265; and traders, 71–72; use of, by American Indians, 21, 79, 327; use of, by whites, 69, 104–5, 131, 185–88, 251–52, 272–73, 302, 307–8, 329 Allen, James, 60 Allen, John E., 93, 95, 98 Allis, Emeline Palmer, 47–48, 54, 55–56, 82, 346n49, 353n95 Allis, Henry M., 14, 342n21 Allis, Samuel, ix, 3, 82, 339n6, 342n25, 343n27, 353n95; at Bellevue, 32, 60–61, 345n44; children of, 50, 53, 348n56, 348n61; and fossils, 10; as interpreter, 93, 96; in Iowa, 63; marriage of, 48; move west of, 28–33, 344n39, 344n41; and Omaha Indians, 59; and Otoe Indians, 59; and Pawnee Indians, 32–35, 39–46; at Pawnee reservation, 53–54, 58–59, 348nn59–60, 348n62, 349n65; and Pawnee treaty, 62, 350n71; and Pawnee War of 1859, 110, 356n17; youth of, 27–28 American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (A.B.C.F.M.), 3, 28, 340n7 American Fur Company, 3, 4, 65–66, 72, 307

American Indians: and assimilation, 80–81; attacks of, by whites, 161–66; attacks of, on whites, 127–28, 179, 314–17, 322; burial practices of, 150–51; crimes against, 65; and disease, 9, 16–17, 49, 75, 342n22, 346n52; effects of white incursions on, x; as entrepreneurs, 183; and horse stealing, 56, 320–21, 329; and hunting, 9, 323; languages of, 32; and personal adornment, 9; and religion, 31, 248; and Sand Creek massacre, 136–37; as scouts for U.S. Army, 144, 151–52, 166, 360n62; stereotypes of, 24, 26. See also specific groups American lotus, 7, 340n10 Arapaho Indians, 161–66 Arikara Indians, 32, 39–40, 345n46, 346n52 Artaketa (Otoe leader), 285–86 Ash Hollow, 223 Atkinson, Henry, 348n55 Atlantic Monthly, 271 bank bills, 279–80 banks, 279–80, 281, 365n22 bartering, 282 Beam, A. C., ix Bean, Jonathan, 343n26 Beckwith, James, 49, 346n52 Beckwourth, James. See Beckwith, James Beecher, Lyman, 29, 344n38

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index Bellevue, 2–5, 32, 82–87, 339n3, 345n44, 352n94 Bellevue College, 81 Bennet’s Ford, 258, 364n11 Bennett, Gideon, 258, 364n11 Bent, George, 136–37, 358n45 Bent, William, 49, 347n53 Bent’s Fort, 49, 347n53 Berry, Thomas, 63, 350n73 Big Blue River, 183–84, 217–18 Big Elk the First (Omaha chief), 75, 76, 81–82, 352n89 Big Elk the Second (Omaha chief), 76 Big Horn Mountains, 154–55, 156 Big Sandy Creek, 218 Billows, Peter, 294–95 Bird, Jim, 298–99 Black, Samuel, 101, 103–8, 118–22, 124, 285–87, 355n11, 356n15, 356n19 Black Bear (Arapaho leader), 161, 166 Blackbird (Omaha chief), 75, 352n86 Black Kettle (Cheyenne leader), 136, 358n45 Bordeaux, James, 145 Bouyer, Mitch, 145 Boydston, W. L., 289 Bozeman, John, 150, 360n61 Bozeman Trail, 150–51, 154, 169, 360n61 Bridger, Jim, 145, 155–59, 168, 239, 361n64 Bright Sun (Omaha wife of Lucien Fontenelle), 72, 83, 84, 353nn99–100 Bross, Stephen Decatur, 71, 246, 250, 310, 351n80 Brown, Albert, 147, 169, 171, 360n58

Brown, John, 288 Brown, Thomas, 357n34 Buchanan, James, 281, 366n26 buffalo, 8, 33–36, 154, 156, 158–59, 174, 203, 317–19 bull whackers, 206, 290–92. See also freighting Burnett, W. B., 289 Burt, Francis, 91 Burt County, 306–12 Butler, David, 302 Cabana, Mr. See Cabanne, Jean Pierre Cabanne, Jean Pierre, 66–67, 351n76 Cadman, John, 299, 366n36 California Trail, 198–99 Carlisle Indian School, 80 Carr, Felix, 302 Carrow-na-Sharrow. See Pitalesharo the Grand (Pawnee chief) Carson, Kit, 83 cattle stampede, 202 Chapman, Bird B., 257, 364n10 Cheyenne Indians: attack of, on Julesburg, 137; attack of, on Plum Creek wagon train, 128–29, 135–36, 357n35, 358n44, 364n20; and Dennis Farrell, 323, 327; and hunting, 323; and Little Blue Ranch massacre, 134–36, 358n44; and raid on Lemmon ranch, 314–17; and Sand Creek massacre, 136–37, 358n45 Cheyenne River, 147, 360n57 Chicago, Northwestern Rail Road Company, 309 Chimney Rock, 191, 223 Chivington, John M., 136, 358n45

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index Chouteau, Pierre, 34, 68 Christianity, 58, 331–32 Civil War, 220, 288–89, 307, 308, 314 claim jumping, 271–72 Clancy, William, 266, 365n16 Clark, H. T., 81 Clark, William, 68–69 Clarke, Elam, 270 Clear Creek, 154, 361n63 Cline, William, 60, 349n67 Cloud Peak, 149, 360n60 Coal Creek, 154–55 Cole, Elizabeth Garrett, 193–94 Cole, Gilbert, 182–92 Cole, Nelson P., 142, 168–74, 177, 360n53, 361n72 Collier, David, 249, 364n6 confederate soldiers, 134, 358n43 Conner, Patrick E., 171, 177, 180, 359n47; and District of the Plains, 138, 359n46; and Powder River expedition, 141–43, 146–47, 161, 163, 360n53 Constable, George, 129, 131 Core, Isaac, 285 Cottonwood Springs, 193, 362n7 Council Bluff, 271, 365n20 Council Bluffs, 91, 309–10 Courthouse Rock, 191, 223 Cox, William Wallace, 277–93 coyotes, 326 crash of 1857, 274, 281, 365n22 Crim, John A., 294–95, 366n35 Crook, George, 114, 356n21 Culbertson, Alexander, 72 Cuming, Thomas B., 91–92, 257, 261, 263, 354n5, 364n9 currency, 274, 281–82, 303. See also bank bills Curtis, Samuel (missionary), 51–52, 348n58, 355n14

Curtis, Samuel R. (U.S. Army general), 103–4, 119–20, 134 Daugherty, Jim, 145 Davis, Charles D., 271, 365n21 Decatur, 240–41; and American Indians, 310–11, 367n45; drinking habits in, 251–52; fate of early settlers of, 252–55; Fourth of July in, 311–12; S. T. Leaming’s account of, 306–12 Decatur, Stephen A. See Bross, Stephen Decatur Denisten, Major. See Dennison, William W. Dennison, William W., 62, 285–87, 366n29 Denver, 203, 205 Denver, James W., 62, 350n70 DePuy, Henry W., 29, 63, 343nn28–29, 350n72 DeSmet, Pierre-Jean, 155, 361n64 DeSoto, 267, 365n16 DeWitt, 118 disease, 9, 49, 75–76, 340n12, 346n52 Dodd, Theodore. See Dodge, Theodore Dodge, Grenville, 278 Dodge, Henry, 30 Dodge, Theodore, 266, 272 Dougherty, John, 11, 17, 85, 86, 341n14 Dougherty, Robert, 83, 353n96 Douglas House, 262–63, 266 Downs, Hiram P., 259, 364n12 Drake, Joseph Rodman, 289–90 Drips, Andrew, 69, 351n77 Dunbar, John Brown, 10, 49, 61–62, 340n13, 346n51; and mission to Pawnees, 28, 32, 50, 82, 353n95

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index DuPuy, H. W. See DePuy, Henry W. Dye, James, 294–95, 366n35

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Ebohumbe (Omaha Indian), 80–81 Elkhorn River, 6, 20–21 environmental degradation, 10–11 Estabrook, Experience, 120, 247, 285 Eubanks, Isabelle, 357nn37–38, 358n40 Eubanks, Lucinda, 132–33, 136, 138–39, 314, 357n37, 358nn39– 40, 358n44 Eubanks, William, 132, 135, 357n38 Eubanks family, 132 Eveland, Alf, 294–97 Eveland, Elizabeth, 295 Ewing, Mr. See Irvin, Samuel farming, 254, 314 Farrell, Dennis, 320–30 Farrell’s ranch, 323, 324–25 firearms, 188–89, 300, 315, 327 Fisk, Jim, 318, 367n48 Flathead Indians, 28, 344n37 Fontenelle, 101–2 Fontenelle, Albert, 4, 69, 340n8 Fontenelle, Emily, 23–27, 72, 351n78 Fontenelle, Henry, 23, 69–70, 72–82, 351n78 Fontenelle, Logan, 70, 76, 78–79, 83–84, 352n89 Fontenelle, Lucien, 47, 69, 71, 83–85, 340n8, 345n48, 353nn99– 101 Fontenelle, Susan, 70 Fontenelle, Tecumseh, 70, 83–84

Ford, James H., 119 Fort Benton, 308, 367n42 Fort Calhoun, 267–72 Fort Conner, 151, 169, 171, 360n55 Fort Des Moines, 196 Fort Grattan, 223, 364n21 Fort Halleck, 140, 359n50 Fort Kearny, 63, 186–87, 193, 199, 219–20, 225, 230–32, 259, 350n73 Fort Laramie, 47, 223–25, 345n48 Fort Leavenworth, 29–30, 344n41 Fort Lupton, 179, 362n76 Fort McKinney, 156, 361n65 Fort McPherson, 193, 362n7 Fort Riley, 140, 359n49 Fort Russell, 206, 363n15 Fort Sedgewick, 321, 367n50 fossils, 10 freezing to death, 70 freighting: and camp, 201–2; Deforest Rolfe’s account of, 197–213; Gilbert Cole’s account of, 182–92; and goods, 208–12, 217; James Green’s account of, 192–96; and make-up of trains, 100, 216–17, 290; Moses Sydenham’s account of, 214–32; and rations, 206, 207; and wages, 206; wagons and cattle used for, 200 freight rates, 197, 205 Fremont, John Charles, 12, 341n15 Furnas, Robert, 81, 308, 367n43 Garrow, Antoine, 71 Gaston, George Belcher, 3, 5, 53, 340n7 Genoa, 123 Giddings, Napoleon B., 257, 364n10 Gillis, J. L., 63–64

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index

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Gilman’s Ranch, 193, 362n8 Grand Island, 212–13 Grattan, John L., 223, 364n21 Gray, William Henry, 47, 346n49, 346n52 Great American Desert, 183, 222 Great Plains. See plains Green, James, 192 Gregory, John Stanford, 292–99 Griffin, Edward D., 28, 344n36 grizzly bears, 154–55, 159 Grow, Galusha A., 281 Guittar, Francois (Frank), 34, 71, 345n45

Icarrow-na-Sharrow (Pawnee warrior), 125 Independence Day celebration, 13–14, 341n19 Independent Order of Good Templars, 330 Indian agents, 12–13, 64–65, 341n16 Indian land allotments, 310, 367n44 influenza, 9, 16–17, 342n22 intermarriage, 26, 69–70, 252, 344n32 Iowa Central Air Line (railroad), 309 Iowa Indians, 32, 74 Irvin, Eliza, 351n79 Irvin, Samuel, 70, 351n79 Irvine, C., 266–77, Izard, Mark, 91–92, 94, 354n4

Hamilton, William, 70, 82, 351n79 Hampton Institute, 80 Hanscom, A. J., 91 Harlan, James, 343n29 Harney, William, 39, 137, 224–25, 345n46, 358n45, 362n3, 364n22 Harvey, Augustus F., 288–89, 366n32 haying, 325–26, 329 Hazen, Reuben W., 116, 118, 356n23 Hepner, George, 77, 352n90 Hidatsa Indians, 346n52 Hill, William E., 199, 363n14 Hillsboro, 333 Hitchcock, Edward, 28, 344n35 Holladay, Benjamin, 127, 130 Homer archaeological site, 74, 351n85, 352n88 Homestead Act, 281, 366nn26–27 Hopps, Robert, 277 Hughes, B. M., 178 Hughes, Jack, 321–22 Hyde, Thomas, 303

James, Edwin, 50–51, 348n55 Janisse, Nick, 145, 168 Jewett, Oscar, 141–42, 145, 150–51, 153, 167, 174 Johnson, David M., 257–65 Johnson, Hadley D., 257, 364n10 Juba dance, 238, 364n3 Jules (early rancher), 321, 367n51 Julesburg, 321–22, 324, 329 Kagi, John, 288, 366n31 Kansas-Nebraska Act (1854), 90 Kaw Indians, 32, 74 Kearney, Gen. See Harney, William Kenekuk (Kickapoo holy man), 31, 345n43 Kennedy, George F., 119 Kickapoo Indians, 31, 345n43 Kirkwood, Samuel J., 278 Kline, William, 119

Iatan (Otoe chief), 85–86, 353n102

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Kountze, August, 266, 365n14 Kuhl, Henry, 132 La Barge, Joseph, 71 LaBonte stage station, 145, 360n56 Labow, Nick, 284 LaClair, Mr. See Leclerc, Narcisse LaDue, Antoine, 145 Lakota (Sioux) Indians, 346n52 Lambert, Kenneth, 307–8 Lancaster County, 293, 295–96 land speculation, 264, 266, 268–69, 280, 281–82, 310–11 Latham, Charles M., 163 law enforcement, 283, 294–95 Leaming, Silas T., 306–12 Leavenworth City, 216 Leclerc, Narcisse, 66, 351n76 Leighton, Harriett W., 330–38 Lemmon, James Henry, Jr., 319 Lemmon, J. H., 313–19 Liberty Creek, 316 Lincoln, 293–94, 300–304, 334–37 Lincoln, Abraham, 282, 289, 365n23, 366n27 Lincoln City Library, 336–37 Littell, B. F., 268, 365n18 Little Blue ranch, 131, 357n36 Little Blue River, 313–19 Little Blue River massacre, 128–32, 314, 367n44 Little Thunder (Brule Sioux leader), 225, 358n45, 364n22 Long, Stephen H., 306, 341n18 Looking Glass Creek, 10–11 Loup River, 7, 10 Luff, Elijah, 300 lumber industry, 268 Lushbaugh, Benjamin F., 22, 343n29

Macinac (Mackinaw) boats, 4, 340n9 MacMurphy, John A., 234–35; critique of younger generation by, 256; in Decatur, 240–41, 248–49; journey of, to Nebraska Territory, 237–40; on Omaha Indians, 246–48; on role of government, 256; travel west of, 234–36; as witness to killing, 236–37; work of, in trading post, 242–45 Majors, Alexander, 197, 221, 290, 313, 363n12 Malloy, Thomas, 300–305 Mandan Indians, 346n52 Manypenny, George W., 352n91 Marshall, Capt. (Powder River expedition member), 167, 169, 172, 176–77 Mason, O. P., 289 mastodon, 10 Mathers, James, 9, 14, 17–19, 341n20, 342n24 Mathers, Marcellus, 18, 342n24 Mathers, Sara Clarke, 14, 15, 341n20 Mayhew, Allen, 288 McArdle, James, 324 McArthur. See Wharton, Henry W. McKinney, Edmund, 76, 352n89 Merrill, Moses, 51–52, 83, 85–86, 348n57, 353n96, 353n102 Midland Pacific Railway Company, 212–13, 363n16 Miller, Daniel, 3–4, 12–13, 21, 339n4, 341n17, 343n26, 349nn66–67 Miller, George, 60–61, 349n68 Miller, George L., 91, 220 Miller, John, 343n26–27

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index Mills, George M., 266 missions and missionaries, 2, 28–29, 47–48, 51–52, 70, 82, 340n7 Missouri Indians, 32 Missouri River, 237–38, 260, 267–68, 306–7, 309 Moonlight, Thomas, 138–40, 358n44, 359n46, 359n48 Moorland, Mr. (Pawnee War participant and horse thief), 123–24 Morgan, Alexander G., 30, 345n42 Morgan, John Hunt, 134, 358n43 Mormons, 21–22, 30, 60–61, 228, 343n30, 349n68 Morton, Frank, 194–95 Morton, J. Sterling, 91, 101, 103, 262, 285, 355n12, 366n32 Morton, Mrs. (wife of Frank Morton), 195 Mud Springs, 140–41, 324, 359n50, 360n52 Murphy, E. B., 135–36 Myers, William, 327, 368n53 Nebraska City, 197–99, 259, 261, 280–85, 363n13, 364n12 Nebraska City News, 366n32 Nebraska State Historical Society, ix–x Nebraska Territory, 254–56, 262–65, 284, 300–305, 310, 314, 365n23 Nebraska Women’s Crusade, 330–38 Neff, Isaac H., 192–93, 362n5 Neil, Louis, 70 Neill, Thomas H., 322, 367n52 Nelson, Robert, 187

New York Herald, 327, 328 New York Independent, 7 North, Frank, 144, 151–53, 158–60, 163–64, 167–68, 169, 172, 177, 360n62 Nuckolls, Stephen F., 259, 283, 287, 364n12, 366n30 O’Brien, Nicholas J. “Nick,” 137, 140, 144, 153, 164, 329 Oceanica (ship), 2 O’Fallon’s Bluffs, 222 Ohio Life and Trust Company, 274 Old Peter. See Pitalesharo the Grand (Pawnee chief) Omadi, 309 Omaha, 90, 101, 240, 253, 259, 261–62, 266–77 Omaha (ship), 237 Omaha Indians, 2; burial practices of, 245–46; children of, and schools, 79, 80; clothing of, 244–45; Henry Fontenelle’s history of, 73–82; and land allotments, 310; language of, 32, 245; and Lucien Fontenelle, 69; meaning of name of, 271; and reservation, 78, 80, 352n92; and Samuel Allis, 59; and Samuel Curtis, 51–52; as scouts for U.S. Army, 144, 147; and trading post, 241–43; treaties and, 75, 78, 242–43, 364n4; village of, on Elkhorn River, 75–76, 352n87 Osage Indians, 32, 74 Otoe County, 212–13 Otoe Indians, 2, 17–18, 32, 59, 71–72, 74, 85–86, 285 Paddock, A. S., 269

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index Pahocatawa (resurrected Pawnee), 43–44 Painter, Edward, 310, 367n44 Palmer, Henry E., 134, 144–57 panic of 1857. See crash of 1857 Papillion Creek, 6 Papin, Alexander Laforce, 25–26, 71, 344n32, 351n78 Pappan, Laforce. See Papin, Alexander Laforce Parker, Samuel, 28, 47, 344n37, 345n48 Parks, Thomas S., 117, 357n26 Patterson, Daniel, 218, 263n19 Pawnee Indians, 2; attacks of, by Sioux, 3, 11, 12, 14–16, 19–20, 36, 55–60, 116–17, 339n6, 342n25, 346n50, 349n64; attacks of, by whites, 99–100, 186; attacks of, on Sioux, 151–52; attacks of, on whites, 99–100, 114, 117–18, 356n20; bands and clans of, 32, 45; children of, and schools, 13, 19, 22, 54–55, 63, 343n28; and courtship, 45–46; and disease, 9, 16–17, 75; eating of wolves by, 294; folktales of, 10, 40, 44; and food and hunting, 43; and Gilbert Cole’s wagon train, 184, 185; and John Milton Thayer, 92–99; language of, 32; lifeways of, 36–41; lodges of, 41–42, 345n47; and Otoe Indians, 17–18; population of, 102, 109, 125, 356n13, 356nn16–17, 357n30; removal of, to Indian Territory, 49, 346n50; and reservation, 62, 343nn28–29; and Samuel Allis, 6, 32–35, 39–46, 53–54, 110, 348nn59–60, 348n62, 350n71, 356n17; scalp

dance of, 152–53; as scouts for U.S. Army, 114, 144, 156, 166, 169–70, 172, 356n21, 360n62; and treaties, 62, 350n70; villages of, 116–17, 356nn24–25 Pawnee Ranch stage station, 128, 357n33 Pawnee War of 1859, 100–25, 356n23, peace policy, 23, 343n31 Peck, J. P., 120 Pemberton, Will, 297–99 Perkins, Alonzo, 268, 365n18 Phebe (slave), 82–83, 353n96 Pierce, Franklin, 91–92 Pierre Chouteau & Company, 34, 68 Pilcher, Joshua, 32, 65–66, 69, 345n44, 350n75 Pioneer Hotel, 301 Pipestone National Monument, 74, 351n84 Pitalesharo the Grand (Pawnee chief), 112, 121, 356n18 Pitcher, Major. See Pilcher, Joshua plains, 7–10, 109, 183, 191, 192, 248, 340n11. See also Great American Desert Planter’s House, 236 Platt, Elvira Gaston, 2–16, 20–23, 343n27, 366n30 Platt, Lester, 2, 5, 22–23, 59–61, 343n27, 343n29, 349n66 Platte River, 218, 227–28, 229–30; crossing of, 6, 48, 95, 140, 145–47, 187, 222–23; description of, 224 Plum Creek, 11, 195, 222, 328, 363n9, 364n20, 368n54 Ponca Indians, 32, 55, 61, 349n68, 355n8

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Pony Express, 220 potatoes, wild, 8, 37, 340n11 Potawatomi Indians, 50–51, 348n55 Powder River, 150 Powder River expedition: attack of, on Arapaho village, 161–67; battle of, with Cheyennes, 151– 53, 360n62; and buffalo hunt, 174–76; and building of Fort Conner, 151; H. E. Palmer’s account of, 134–57, 358n42; and mutiny, 143; and Nelson Cole’s command, 168–74, 177; and wagon train attack, 168–69 prairie. See plains prairie fires, 32–33, 148–50, 218 Price, George F., 178, 362n75 Pringle, Jim, 324 prohibition movement, 330–38, 368n55 Prophet. See Kenekuk (Kickapoo holy man) Pumpkin Butte, 148, 360n59 Quakers, 23, 343n31 Quapaw Indians, 73 racism, x, 150–51 Ranney, Timothy A., 55, 61, 349n63, 349n69 rations, 206 Rawhide Creek story, 65, 350n74 Red Pipe Stone Quarry. See Pipestone National Monument Renick, John, 225 Resha, John, 145 Reynolds, W. F., 118 Richardson, Origen D., 93, 95, 355n7 Richardson County, 260 road building, 198–200, 249–50

Robertson, Beverly H., 104, 106–7, 119, 355n8, 357n29 Robinson, J. B., 119, 357n28 Robinson, Lt. See Robertson, Beverly H. Rogers, Samuel, 91 Rolfe, Deforest P., 197–213, 363n11 Rolfe & Terry, 206 Roper, Laura, 132–33, 136, 138–39, 314, 357n37, 358nn39–40, 358n44 Rouillet, Louis, 324 Roy, Baptiste, 71–72 Russell, Majors & Waddell, 197, 203, 205, 215–16, 280–81, 290–92, 313, 319, 363n12 salt basin, 294 salt extraction, 292, 294 Salt Lake City, 205, 228 Sand Creek massacre, 136–37, 358n45 Sarpy, Peter, 49, 56, 66–68, 242, 244, 254, 307, 319, 346n52, 351n76 Satterlee, Benedict, 47, 49, 50, 83, 346n49, 353n97 Satterlee, Martha Ann, 47–48, 83, 346n49, 353n97 Saunders, Alvin, 365n23 Saunsoci, Louis, 79 Sawyers, James A., 168, 361n70 scalping, 44, 132, 162, 322, 328, 368n54 Scarade-ne-Sal (Pawnee chief), 122 Scott’s Bluff, 191, 223 Sherman, William Tecumseh, 327, 368n53 Shinn’s Ferry, 193, 362n6 Shoemaker, Johnny (Johnnie), 178–79

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index Shoup, George L., 136 Silvers, Robert, 304–5, 366n39 Sioux Indians, 4–5, 189, 224–25; attacks of, on Omaha Indians, 76, 78–79, 352n88, 352n93; attacks of, on Pawnees, 3, 11, 12, 19–20, 36, 56–58, 63–64, 116–17, 125, 339n6, 342n25, 346n50, 349n64; attacks of, on school, 14–16, 59–60; attacks of, on whites, 55, 137; and Deforest Rolfe’s freighting party, 203, 204–5; helping of whites by, 226–28; and Powder River expedition, 171 Sixth Michigan Cavalry, 144, 168–74, 360n55, 361n72 slavery, 26–27, 83, 236–37, 266, 274, 285–86, 292 smallpox, 49, 75–76, 346n52 Smith, Dutch, 195–96 Smith, Joseph, 30 snakes, 250–51 Snyder, A. M., 266–67 Society of Friends. See Quakers sod buildings, 324–25 Soldier’s Orphan’s Home, 23 Spaulding, Henry Harmon, 47, 346n49 Spotted Horse (Skedee Pawnee chief), 9, 17–18, 342nn23–24 steamboats, 292, 306, 308 Stevens, Elisha, 4, 340n8 Stevens, George, 267, 365n15 Stewart, Charley, 188 Stewart, James S., 267, 365n17 St. Joseph, 182 St. Louis, 236 Stokes, Edward S., 318, 367n48 Stowe, Calvin E., 29, 344n38 Stowe, Harriett Beecher, 29, 344n38

Stuart, David, 29, 344n40 Sully, Alfred, 63, 350n73 Summers, Samuel W., 126, 357n32 Sydenham, Moses Henry, 214–32 Tabor, Cyrus H., 192–93, 362n5 Ta-ha-zhouka (Omaha chief), 75 Thayer, John Milton, 90–91, 100–101, 220, 354n3, 355n10; as colonel, 276–77; false modesty of, 107; and Pawnees, 92–99, 355nn6–8; and Pawnee War of 1859, 118–20, 123; and Territorial Congress, 275–76 Thayer, Mary Torrey Allen, 90–91, 93–94, 354n3 Thomas, C. L., 171–72, 362n73 Thompson, Alexander Ramsay, 30, 345n42 traders, 21, 70–72, 74–75, 307 trading posts, 22–23, 241–45 Turner, Dick, 325–26 Two Face (Oglala Sioux), 136, 138, 358n44 underground railroad, 288, 292 Union Pacific Railroad, 212–13, 324, 328–29 University of Nebraska, 304–5, 366n39 U.S. Army, 126–33, 143, 328, 360n54 Ute Indians, 203–5 Vanier, Z., 269–70, 365n18 Van Lear. See Vanier, Z. varioloid (disease), 49, 346n52 Wadsworth, Mrs., 183–84 Wadsworth, W. W., 183

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index White Ribbon Army, 337. See also Nebraska Women’s Crusade Whitman, Marcus, 47–48, 345n48, 346n49 Whitman, Narcissa Prentis, 47, 346n49 wild cat banks, 279–80, 281 Williams College, 28, 344n36 Will R. King & Co., 328 Winnebago Indians, 144, 147, 310 wolves, 8–9, 168, 294 women, American Indian, 4–5, 25–26, 56–57, 87, 111 women, white, 4, 5, 47, 330–38 Women’s Christian Temperance Movement, 337, 368n58 Yellow Nelumbo. See American lotus Yellowstone (steamboat), 306–7 Young, Brigham, 21

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wagon trains, 185, 195, 222, 313, 328, 363n9, 364n20, 368n54 Wallen, James, 300 Warner, E. H., 268 Watt, Sam, 321–22 wealth accumulation, 254–55 West, William, 118, 123 Westbrook, Royal L., 321–22, 367n52 Western Engineer (steamboat), 306 Wharton, Henry W., 186, 219, 229, 362n2 Wheaton, Frank, 177, 362n74 White Antelope (Cheyenne leader), 136, 358n45 White Buffalo (Omaha orator), 76–78 White Eye (Cheyenne chief), 327 White Horse (assimilated Omaha), 81 Whiteman Chief (Skedee Pawnee leader), 24–25

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