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OLIVER T. OSBORNE, A.M., M.D. - "DISTURBANCES OF THE HEART"

Georg Ebers - "The Bride of the Nile, Volume 11."

Georg Ebers - "Margery, Volume 1."

Nathaniel Hawthorne - "A Book of Autographs"

The Memoirs of General P. H. Sheridan, Complete

G >> General Philip Henry Sheridan >> The Memoirs of General P. H. Sheridan, Complete




Next morning the first thing I saw when I put my head out from my
blankets was "Cut-mouth John," already mounted and parading himself
through the camp. The scalp of the Indian he had despatched the day
before was tied to the cross-bar of his bridle bit, the hair dangling
almost to the ground, and John was decked out in the sacred vestments
of Father Pandoza, having, long before any one was stirring in camp,
ransacked the log-cabin at the Mission in which the good man had
lived. John was at all times a most repulsive looking individual, a
part of his mouth having been shot away in a fight with Indians near
Walla Walla some years before, in which a Methodist missionary had
been killed; but his revolting personal appearance was now worse than
ever, and the sacrilegious use of Father Pandoza's vestments, coupled
with the ghastly scalp that hung from his bridle, so turned opinion
against him that he was soon captured, dismounted, and his parade
brought to an abrupt close, and I doubt whether he ever after quite
reinstated himself in the good graces of the command.

In the course of the day nearly all the men visited the Mission, but
as it had been plundered by the Indians at the outbreak of
hostilities, when Father Pandoza was carried off, little of value was
left about it except a considerable herd of pigs, which the father
with great difficulty had succeeded in accumulating from a very small
beginning. The pigs had not been disturbed by the Indians, but the
straggling troops soon disposed of them, and then turned their
attention to the cabbages and potatoes in the garden, with the
intention, no doubt, of dining that day on fresh pork and fresh
vegetables instead of on salt junk and hard bread, which formed their
regular diet on the march. In digging up the potatoes some one
discovered half a keg of powder, which had been buried in the garden
by the good father to prevent the hostile Indians from getting it to
use against the whites. As soon as this was unearthed wild
excitement ensued, and a cry arose that Father Pandoza was the person
who furnished powder to the Indians; that here was the proof; that at
last the mysterious means by which the Indians obtained ammunition
was explained--and a rush was made for the mission building. This was
a comfortable log-house of good size, built by the Indians for a
school and church, and attached to one end was the log-cabin
residence of the priest. Its destruction was a matter of but a few
moments. A large heap of dry wood was quickly collected and piled in
the building, matches applied, and the whole Mission, including the
priest's house, was soon enveloped in flames, and burned to the
ground before the officers in camp became aware of the disgraceful
plundering in which their men were engaged.

The commanding officer having received no news from Captain Maloney
during the day, Colonel Nesmith and I were ordered to go to his
rescue, as it was concluded that he had been surrounded by Indians in
the Natchez Pass. We started early the next morning, the snow
falling slightly as we set out, and soon arrived at the eastern mouth
of the Natchez Pass. On the way we noticed an abandoned Indian
village, which had evidently not been occupied for some time. As we
proceeded the storm increased, and the snow-fall became deeper and
deeper, until finally our horses could not travel through it. In
consequence we were compelled to give up further efforts to advance,
and obliged to turn back to the abandoned village, where we encamped
for the night. Near night-fall the storm greatly increased, and our
bivouac became most uncomfortable; but spreading my blankets on the
snow and covering them with Indian matting, I turned in and slept
with that soundness and refreshment accorded by nature to one
exhausted by fatigue. When I awoke in the morning I found myself
under about two feet of snow, from which I arose with difficulty, yet
grateful that it had kept me warm during the night.

After a cup of coffee and a little hard bread, it was decided we
should return to the main camp near the Mission, for we were now
confident that Maloney was delayed by the snow, and safe enough on
the other side of the mountains. At all events he was beyond aid
from us, for the impassable snowdrifts could not be overcome with the
means in our possession. It turned out that our suppositions as to
the cause of his delay were correct. He had met with the same
difficulties that confronted us, and had been compelled to go into
camp.

Meanwhile valuable time had been lost, and the Indians, with their
families and stock, were well on their way to the Okenagan country, a
region into which we could not penetrate in the winter season. No
other course was therefore left but to complete the dismal failure of
the expedition by returning home, and our commander readily gave the
order to march back to the Dalles by the "short" route over the
Yakima Mountains.

As the storm was still unabated, it was evident our march home would
be a most difficult one, and it was deemed advisable to start back at
once, lest we should be blocked up in the mountains by the snows for
a period beyond which our provisions would not last. Relying on the
fact that the short route to the Dalles would lead us over the range
at its most depressed point, where it was hoped the depth of snow was
not yet so great as to make the route impassable, we started with
Colonel Nesmith's battalion in advance to break the road, followed by
my dragoons. In the valley we made rapid progress, but when we
reached the mountain every step we took up its side showed the snow
to be growing deeper and deeper. At last Nesmith reached the summit,
and there found a depth of about six feet of snow covering the
plateau in every direction, concealing all signs of the trail so
thoroughly that his guides became bewildered and took the wrong
divide. The moment I arrived at the top my guide--Donald Mc Kay--who
knew perfectly the whole Yakima range, discovered Nesmith's mistake.
Word was sent to bring him back, but as he had already nearly crossed
the plateau, considerable delay occurred before he returned. When he
arrived we began anew the work of breaking a road for the foot troops
behind us, my detachment now in advance. The deep snow made our work
extremely laborious, exhausting men and horses almost to the point of
relinquishing the struggle, but our desperate situation required that
we should get down into the valley beyond, or run the chance of
perishing on the mountain in a storm which seemed unending. About
midnight the column reached the valley, very tired and hungry, but
much elated over its escape. We had spent a day of the most intense
anxiety, especially those who had had the responsibility of keeping
to the right trail, and been charged with the hard work of breaking
the road for the infantry and artillery through such a depth of snow.

Our main difficulties were now over, and in due time we reached the
Dalles, where almost everyone connected with the expedition voted it
a wretched failure; indeed, General Rains himself could not think
otherwise, but he scattered far and wide blame for the failure of his
combinations. This, of course, led to criminations and
recriminations, which eventuated in charges of incompetency preferred
against him by Captain Edward O. C. Ord, of the Third Artillery.
Rains met the charges with counter-charges against Ord, whom he
accused of purloining Father Pandoza's shoes, when the soldiers in
their fury about the ammunition destroyed the Mission. At the time
of its destruction a rumor of this nature was circulated through
camp, started by some wag, no doubt in jest; for Ord, who was
somewhat eccentric in his habits, and had started on the expedition
rather indifferently shod in carpet-slippers, here came out in a
brand-new pair of shoes. Of course there was no real foundation for
such a report, but Rains was not above small things, as the bringing
of this petty accusation attests. Neither party was ever tried, for
General John E. Wool the department commander, had not at command a
sufficient number of officers of appropriate rank to constitute a
court in the case of Rains, and the charges against Ord were very
properly ignored on account of their trifling character.

Shortly after the expedition returned to the Dalles, my detachment
was sent down to Fort Vancouver, and I remained at that post during
the winter of 1855-'56, till late in March.




CHAPTER V.

AN INDIAN CONFEDERATION--MASSACRE AT THE CASCADES OF THE
COLUMBIA--PLAN TO RELIEVE THE BLOCKHOUSE--A HAZARDOUS FLANK
MOVEMENT--A NEW METHOD OF ESTABLISHING GUILT--EXECUTION OF
THE INDIAN MURDERERS.

The failure of the Haller expedition from lack of a sufficient force,
and of the Rains expedition from the incompetency of its commander,
was a great mortification to the officers and men connected with
them, and, taken together, had a marked effect upon the Indian
situation in Oregon and Washington Territories at that particular
era. Besides, it led to further complications and troubles, for it
had begun to dawn upon the Indians that the whites wanted to come in
and dispossess them of their lands and homes, and the failures of
Haller and Rains fostered the belief with the Indians that they could
successfully resist the pressure of civilization.

Acting under these influences, the Spokanes, Walla Wallas, Umatillas,
and Nez Perces cast their lot with the hostiles, and all the savage
inhabitants of the region east of the Cascade Range became involved
in a dispute as to whether the Indians or the Government should
possess certain sections of the country, which finally culminated in
the war of 1856.

Partly to meet the situation that was approaching, the Ninth Infantry
had been sent out from the Atlantic coast to Washington Territory,
and upon its arrival at Fort Vancouver encamped in front of the
officers' quarters, on the beautiful parade-ground of that post, and
set about preparing for the coming campaign. The commander, Colonel
George Wright, who had been promoted to the colonelcy of the regiment
upon its organization the previous year, had seen much active duty
since his graduation over thirty years before, serving with credit in
the Florida and Mexican wars. For the three years previous to his
assignment to the Ninth Infantry he had been stationed on the Pacific
coast, and the experience he had there acquired, added to his
excellent soldierly qualities, was of much benefit in the active
campaigns in which, during the following years, he was to
participate. Subsequently his career was brought to an untimely
close when, nine years after this period, as he was returning to the
scene of his successes, he, in common with many others was drowned by
the wreck of the ill-fated steamer Brother Jonathan. Colonel Wright
took command of the district in place of Rains, and had been at
Vancouver but a short time before he realized that it would be
necessary to fight the confederated tribes east of the Cascade Range
of mountains, in order to disabuse them of the idea that they were
sufficiently strong to cope with the power of the Government. He
therefore at once set about the work of organizing and equipping his
troops for a start in the early spring against the hostile Indians,
intending to make the objective point of his expedition the heart of
the Spokane country on the Upper Columbia River, as the head and
front of the confederation was represented in the person of old
Cammiackan, chief of the Spokanes.

The regiment moved from Fort Vancouver by boat, March 25, 1856, and
landed at the small town called the Dalles, below the mouth of the
Des Chutes River at the eastern base of the Cascade Range, and just
above where the Columbia River enters those mountains. This
rendezvous was to be the immediate point of departure, and all the
troops composing the expedition were concentrated there.

On the morning of March 26 the movement began, but the column had
only reached Five Mile Creek when the Yakimas, joined by many young
warriors-free lances from other tribes, made a sudden and unexpected
attack at the Cascades of the Columbia, midway between Vancouver and
the Dalles, killed several citizens, women and children, and took
possession of the Portage by besieging the settlers in their cabins
at the Upper Cascades, and those who sought shelter at the Middle
Cascades in the old military block-house, which had been built some
years before as a place of refuge under just such circumstances.
These points held out, and were not captured, but the landing at the
Lower Cascades fell completely into the hands of the savages.
Straggling settlers from the Lower Cascades made their way down to
Fort Vancouver, distant about thirty-six miles, which they reached
that night; and communicated the condition of affairs. As the
necessity for early relief to the settlers and the re-establishment
of communication with the Dalles were apparent, all the force that
could be spared was ordered out, and in consequence I immediately
received directions to go with my detachment of dragoons, numbering
about forty effective men, to the relief of the middle blockhouse,
which really meant to retake the Cascades. I got ready at once, and
believing that a piece of artillery would be of service to me, asked
for one, but as there proved to be no guns at the post, I should have
been obliged to proceed without one had it not been that the regular
steamer from San Francisco to Portland was lying at the Vancouver
dock unloading military supplies, and the commander, Captain Dall,
supplied me with the steamer's small iron cannon, mounted on a wooden
platform, which he used in firing salutes at different ports on the
arrival and departure of the vessel. Finding at the arsenal a supply
of solid shot that would fit the gun, I had it put upon the steamboat
Belle, employed to carry my command to the scene of operations, and
started up the Columbia River at 2 A.M. on the morning of the 27th.
We reached the Lower Cascades early in the day, where, selecting a
favorable place for the purpose, I disembarked my men and gun on the
north bank of the river, so that I could send back the steamboat to
bring up any volunteer assistance that in the mean time might have
been collected at Vancouver.

The Columbia River was very high at the time, and the water had
backed up into the slough about the foot of the Lower Cascades to
such a degree that it left me only a narrow neck of firm ground to
advance over toward the point occupied by the Indians. On this neck
of land the hostiles had taken position, as I soon learned by
frequent shots, loud shouting, and much blustering; they, by the most
exasperating yells and indecent exhibitions, daring me to the
contest.

After getting well in hand everything connected with my little
command, I advanced with five or six men to the edge of a growth of
underbrush to make a reconnoissance. We stole along under cover of
this underbrush until we reached the open ground leading over the
causeway or narrow neck before mentioned, when the enemy opened fire
and killed a soldier near my side by a shot which, just grazing the
bridge of my nose, struck him in the neck, opening an artery and
breaking the spinal cord. He died instantly. The Indians at once
made a rush for the body, but my men in the rear, coming quickly to
the rescue, drove them back; and Captain Doll's gun being now brought
into play, many solid shot were thrown into the jungle where they lay
concealed, with the effect of considerably moderating their
impetuosity. Further skirmishing at long range took place at
intervals during the day, with little gain or loss, however, to
either side, for both parties held positions which could not be
assailed in flank, and only the extreme of rashness in either could
prompt a front attack. My left was protected by the back water
driven into the slough by the high stage of the river, and my right
rested secure on the main stream. Between us was only the narrow
neck of land, to cross which would be certain death. The position of
the Indians was almost the exact counterpart of ours.

In the evening I sent a report of the situation back to Vancouver by
the steamboat, retaining a large Hudson's Bay bateau which I had
brought up with me. Examining this I found it would carry about
twenty men, and made up my mind that early next morning I would cross
the command to the opposite or south side of the Columbia River, and
make my way up along the mountain base until I arrived abreast the
middle blockhouse, which was still closely besieged, and then at some
favorable point recross to the north bank to its relief, endeavoring
in this manner to pass around and to the rear of the Indians, whose
position confronting me was too strong for a direct attack. This
plan was hazardous, but I believed it could be successfully carried
out if the boat could be taken with me; but should I not be able to
do this I felt that the object contemplated in sending me out would
miserably fail, and the small band cooped up at the block-house would
soon starve or fall a prey to the Indians, so I concluded to risk all
the chances the plan involved.

On the morning of March 28 the savages were still in my front, and
after giving them some solid shot from Captain Dall's gun we slipped
down to the river-bank, and the detachment crossed by means of the
Hudson's Bay boat, making a landing on the opposite shore at a point
where the south channel of the river, after flowing around Bradford's
Island, joins the main stream. It was then about 9 o'clock, and
everything had thus far proceeded favorably, but examination of the
channel showed that it would be impossible to get the boat up the
rapids along the mainland, and that success could only be assured by
crossing the south channel just below the rapids to the island, along
the shore of which there was every probability we could pull the boat
through the rocks and swift water until the head of the rapids was
reached, from which point to the block-house there was smooth water.
Telling the men of the embarrassment in which I found myself, and
that if I could get enough of them to man the boat and pull it up the
stream by a rope to the shore we would cross to the island and make
the attempt, all volunteered to go, but as ten men seemed sufficient
I selected that number to accompany me. Before starting, however, I
deemed it prudent to find out if possible what was engaging the
attention of the Indians, who had not yet discovered that we had left
their front. I therefore climbed up the side of the abrupt mountain
which skirted the water's edge until I could see across the island.
From this point I observed the Indians running horse-races and
otherwise enjoying themselves behind the line they had held against
me the day before. The squaws decked out in gay colors, and the men
gaudily dressed in war bonnets, made the scene most attractive, but
as everything looked propitious for the dangerous enterprise in hand
I spent little time watching them. Quickly returning to the boat, I
crossed to the island with my ten men, threw ashore the rope attached
to the bow, and commenced the difficult task of pulling her up the
rapids. We got along slowly at first, but soon striking a camp of
old squaws who had been left on the island for safety, and had not
gone over to the mainland to see the races, we utilized them to our
advantage. With unmistakable threats and signs we made them not only
keep quiet, but also give us much needed assistance in pulling
vigorously on the towrope of our boat.

I was laboring under a dreadful strain of mental anxiety during all
this time, for had the Indians discovered what we were about, they
could easily have come over to the island in their canoes, and, by
forcing us to take up our arms to repel their attack, doubtless would
have obliged the abandonment of the boat, and that essential adjunct
to the final success of my plan would have gone down the rapids.
Indeed, under such circumstances, it would have been impossible for
ten men to hold out against the two or three hundred Indians; but the
island forming an excellent screen to our movements, we were not
discovered, and when we reached the smooth water at the upper end of
the rapids we quickly crossed over and joined the rest of the men,
who in the meantime had worked their way along the south bank of the
river parallel with us. I felt very grateful to the old squaws for
the assistance they rendered. They worked well under compulsion, and
manifested no disposition to strike for higher wages. Indeed, I was
so much relieved when we had crossed over from the island and joined
the rest of the party, that I mentally thanked the squaws one and
all. I had much difficulty in keeping the men on the main shore from
cheering at our success, but hurriedly taking into the bateau all of
them it could carry, I sent the balance along the southern bank,
where the railroad is now built, until both detachments arrived at a
point opposite the block-house, when, crossing to the north bank, I
landed below the blockhouse some little distance, and returned the
boat for the balance of the men, who joined me in a few minutes.

When the Indians attacked the people at the Cascades on the 26th,
word was sent to Colonel Wright, who had already got out from the
Dalles a few miles on his expedition to the Spokane country. He
immediately turned his column back, and soon after I had landed and
communicated with the beleaguered block-house the advance of his
command arrived under Lieutenant-Colonel Edward J. Steptoe. I
reported to Steptoe, and related what had occurred during the past
thirty-six hours, gave him a description of the festivities that were
going on at the lower Cascades, and also communicated the
intelligence that the Yakimas had been joined by the Cascade Indians
when the place was first attacked. I also told him it was my belief
that when he pushed down the main shore the latter tribe without
doubt would cross over to the island we had just left, while the
former would take to the mountains. Steptoe coincided with me in
this opinion, and informing me that Lieutenant Alexander Piper would
join my detachment with a mountain' howitzer, directed me to convey
the command to the island and gobble up all who came over to it.

Lieutenant Piper and I landed on the island with the first boatload,
and after disembarking the howitzer we fired two or three shots to
let the Indians know we had artillery with us, then advanced down the
island with the whole of my command, which had arrived in the mean
time; all of the men were deployed as skirmishers except a small
detachment to operate the howitzer. Near the lower end of the island
we met, as I had anticipated, the entire body of Cascade Indianmen,
women, and children--whose homes were in the vicinity of the
Cascades. They were very much frightened and demoralized at the turn
events had taken, for the Yakimas at the approach of Steptoe had
abandoned them, as predicted, and fled to the mountians. The chief
and head-men said they had had nothing to do with the capture of the
Cascades, with the murder of men at the upper landing, nor with the
massacre of men, women, and children near the block-house, and put
all the blame on the Yakimas and their allies. I did not believe
this, however, and to test the truth of their statement formed them
all in line with their muskets in hand. Going up to the first man on
the right I accused him of having engaged in the massacre, but was
met by a vigorous denial. Putting my forefinger into the muzzle of
his gun, I found unmistakable signs of its having been recently
discharged. My finger was black with the stains of burnt powder, and
holding it up to the Indian, he had nothing more to say in the face
of such positive evidence of his guilt. A further examination proved
that all the guns were in the same condition. Their arms were at
once taken possession of, and leaving a small, force to look after
the women and children and the very old men, so that there could be
no possibility of escape, I arrested thirteen of the principal
miscreants, crossed the river to the lower landing, and placed them
in charge of a strong guard.

Late in the evening the steamboat, which I had sent back to
Vancouver, returned, bringing to my assistance from Vancouver,
Captain Henry D. Wallen's company of the Fourth Infantry and a
company of volunteers hastily organized at Portland, but as the
Cascades had already been retaken, this reinforcement was too late to
participate in the affair. The volunteers from Portland, however,
were spoiling for a fight, and in the absence of other opportunity
desired to shoot the prisoners I held (who, they alleged, had killed
a man named Seymour), and proceeded to make their arrangements to do
so, only desisting on being informed that the Indians were my
prisoners, subject to the orders of Colonel Wright, and would be
protected to the last by my detachment. Not long afterward Seymour
turned up safe and sound, having fled at the beginning of the attack
on the Cascades, and hid somewhere in the thick underbrush until the
trouble was over, and then made his way back to the settlement. The
next day I turned my prisoners over to Colonel Wright, who had them
marched to the upper landing of the Cascades, where, after a trial by
a military commission, nine of them were sentenced to death and duly
hanged. I did not see them executed, but was afterward informed
that, in the absence of the usual mechanical apparatus used on such
occasions, a tree with a convenient limb under which two empty
barrels were placed, one on top of the other, furnished a rude but
certain substitute. In executing the sentence each Indian in turn
was made to stand on the top barrel, and after the noose was adjusted
the lower barrel was knocked away, and the necessary drop thus
obtained. In this way the whole nine were punished. Just before
death they all acknowledged their guilt by confessing their
participation in the massacre at the block-house, and met their doom
with the usual stoicism of their race.