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Shoshoni-Bannock Marauders on the Oregon Trail 1859-1863
Utah Historical Quarterly
Vol. 35, 1967, No. 1
Shoshoni-Bannock Marauders on the Oregon Trail 1859-1863
BY BRIGHAM D. MADSEN
In the morning of January 29, 1863, in weather so cold that whiskey froze in their canteens, Colonel Patrick E. Connor's California Volunteers swam their horses and themselves across ice-choked Bear River to attack an entrenched encampment of several hundred Shoshoni Indians. Fought just above the gorge through which Bear River debouches into the Valley of Great Salt Lake, this engagement was called the "severest and most bloody of any which has ever occurred with the Indians west of the Mississippi."
The battle was a natural and perhaps inevitable consequence of 15 years interaction between opportunistic and aggressive white pioneers and warlike and equally aggressive tribesmen of the plains and mountains. The first act had been staged along the Atlantic seaboard over two centuries before and uncounted succeeding performances had carried the drama overland to the Rocky Mountains. The scenes were the same: first, white settlements spread "like stains of raccoon grease on a new blanket" and, in the process, irresponsible frontiersmen needlessly shot down natives; secondly, the Indians retaliated or sometimes initiated the attacks; then, to end the "savage warfare" a negligent government sent troops who became agents for further white conquest; and finally, a concerned government negotiated a treaty which directed the "removal" of the Indians to Oklahoma, or to a reservation, or to final extinction.
In the region of the Great Salt Lake this familiar cycle was modified by two other factors. First, examine the area occupied by the Shoshoni people. If a student of geometry were to draw a line from South Pass, to Fort Hall, thence to the headwaters of the Humboldt River, then northeast to Salt Lake City, and back to South Pass, he would find the figure of a rhombus, within which, in pioneer days, there was a veritable maze of emigrant trails: Sublette's Cutoff, Kinney's Cutoff, Hudspeth's Cutoff, Lander's Cutoff, and 57 other varieties of shortcuts which have long since been forgotten. These wagon trails offered both provocation and opportunity to the Indians living in the area. Secondly, in the Mormon people the natives found white settlers who pursued a less belligerent course toward the original inhabitants of the land. The Mormon leader, Brigham Young, counseled that "it was manifestly more economical and less expensive to feed and clothe than to fight" the Indians.
As early as October of 1849, Brigham Young had deplored an attack on "Snake" Indians by an emigrant train on its way to California. He wrote to his members in the East that the miners had "shot two or three squaws, and stolen their horses" and regretted that "such a band of desperadoes and murderers should roam at large, exciting the ignorant Indians to retaliation and revenge on our people."
Such wanton cruelty on the part of overland travelers prompted most of the Indian leaders to withdraw their people from the vicinity of the "Holy Road" during the emigrant season, but for the Shoshoni and Bannock this was difficult to do. The trails crisscrossed the very heart of their homeland and if they withdrew too far, they ran the risk of encroaching on Ute, Paiute, Crow, or Blackfeet territory with consequent retaliation and bloodshed.
Wavering between friendship for the Mormon settlers and opposition to the grasshopper hordes of overland travelers, the Shoshoni and Bannock mounted a crescendo of attacks during the decade following the California gold rush. By 1859 the northernmost settlements of Utah in Cache Valley had to direct half their men to build forts while the other half risked annihilation to plant and harvest a crop, so changed had become their erstwhile friendly relations with the neighboring Shoshoni.
That there was justifiable incentive on the part of the Indians to strike back is evident even in the somewhat biased reports of the white inhabitants of the region. A Deseret News correspondent from the Humboldt area wrote in July of 1859 that:
And apparently, some of the government Indian agents were convinced of the correctness of Mormon suspicions of Gentile influence arousing the Indians against the Utah people. F. W. Lander reported to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs in February of 1860 that he had good reason "to believe that Gentiles stimulated the Pannacks and Snakes to attack Mormons and steal from them."
Judge D. R. Eckels wrote from Camp Floyd, Utah Territory, informing the Secretary of Interior that he was convinced that the frequent attacks on emigrants were "planned and led by white men." A man named Nelson Miltimore testified that the "Indians" who attacked his wagon train on August 31 "spoke good English," "wore long beards," and were without doubt "whites in Indian disguise." It is little wonder that the young Shoshoni or Bannock braves, steeped in the tradition that the highest good lay in stealing an enemy horse or taking an enemy scalp, should be emboldened by these examples of whites attacking other white men.
Indiscriminate killing of peaceful Indians by reckless or fear-struck travelers did not improve Indian-white relations either. A Deseret News correspondent from Brigham City related an incident in which two Flathead Indians rode up to an emigrant camp in the Goose Creek Mountains "to swap some buckskins" and were immediately shot to death by the campers. Seeking revenge, the remaining Flatheads commandeered the help of some nearby Shoshoni and the combined war party attacked the wagon train, killed five men and two women, plundered the wagons, and took all the horses.
Because of the Indian troubles during the summer of 1859, troops were dispatched from Camp Floyd to guard the emigrant trails. But the Mormon correspondent to the Deseret News, writing from the "Humboldt River Route," was of the opinion they did more harm than good. Recognizing the strong prejudice that most Mormons had against the federal troops at this time his report must be accepted with some reservations, but other observers with less bias reported similar incidents:
Superintendent F. W. Lander reported additional vows of revenge on the part of Shoshoni Chief Pocatello and his band because of the "assaults of ignominy" by California emigrants on his people, including the killing of a subchief's squaw and children. Pocatello concluded that:
The death was soon achieved. When news came from Brigham City of the killing of five white men and two of their children near the junction of the Oregon and California trails, the military of Camp Floyd dispatched Major Isaac Lynde with a company of dragoons to establish a post near the Bear River crossing from which regular patrols were to be sent out to guard the emigrant parties. In addition Lieutenant E. Gay was ordered to investigate the massacre and arrest the marauders if they could be caught. Upon arriving at Brigham City, some of the settlers informed Gay that a large band of Indians was camped in Box Elder Valley on the road to Cache Valley. The settlers accused this band of stealing horses and cattle and of being the perpetrators of the massacre of seven emigrants.
Gay decided on an attack and leaving Brigham City with 42 men he attacked the sleeping Indians just before dawn. The natives retreated up the steep mountainside, firing as they went, and after about an hour and a half of continuous battle Gay gave up the pursuit. He estimated the strength of the Indians at between 150 and 200 of which his command killed 20 with 6 of his men being wounded. Reports soon reached him that 200 Bannock had joined the hostiles in Cache Valley, and that an even larger encampment was located across the mountains on Bear Lake. A tragic footnote to this sharp engagement was the killing of Abraham Hunsaker's adopted son, "a tame Indian boy," who was herding horses in Box Elder Valley. The troops shot him down on sight and then returned to Brigham City where the Deseret News correspondent reported they encamped in the "Big Field" outside of town "seemingly, having a disrelish for canyons."
A few days after this affair, Major Lynde's command met a wagon train led by a Mr. Shepherd who told them of an ambush which had resulted in the deaths of five men. The attack had occurred in a canyon where the party had stopped to attend to a sick horse. Besides those killed "one woman was shamefully abused and her leg broken, and a small child was thrown into the air and suffered to fall upon the ground, by which, its leg was broken." The attackers got away with 35 horses, "two gold watches, one silver watch, and about one thousand dollars in money." An Indian boy, a member of Chief Pocatello's band, reported to Lynde that the Shoshoni leaders involved in the raid were: "Chief Jag-e-ah ('The Man Who Carries the Arrows')" and subchiefs "Saw-wich ('The Steam From a Cow's Belly'), Ah-gutch ('The Salmon'), Jah-win-pooh ('The Water Goes in the Path'), and Jag-en-up ('The Mist after the Rain')." Major Lynde voiced his suspicions that the marauding bands were "stimulated" by the citizens of Utah to steal cattle and horses for the benefit of Mormondom.
As the sultry "dog days" of August steamed into September, Indian raids increased. Captain Daniel Beals's company of travelers was attacked, one man killed and another, Jacob Pollings, was found the following day lying among the debris of the plundered and burning wagons, having been wounded in both legs. Several days later Milton J. Harrington, a member of the "Buchanan Co." from Iowa, reported an attack on his train in which eight persons were killed, the dead being "horribly mangled and scalped":
The list of Indian attacks lengthened — some recorded at the time, a few known only to the perpetrators — all attended with the ferocity of savage instincts unleashed. And the army faced the impossible task of patrolling 800 miles of intertwined emigrant roads from South Pass in Wyoming to the Humboldt in Nevada. F. W. Lander underscored the despair of the army trying to capture the will-o'-the-wisp Shoshoni and Bannock who "keep runners out" to "furnish intelligence to distant bands of the approach of troops. They are always ridiculing the attempts made to overtake them by the regular army." The common phrase found in the reports of the commanders of the punitive military expeditions was that they "saw no Indians." When friendly Indians did approach the soldier camps, there was always the danger that some frustrated dragoon would load and fire. When Chief Pocatello came into the camp of Lieutenant Gay and that officer placed him in irons, Major Lynde released the Indian leader despite the irate mutterings of the regulars. The troopers probably would have agreed with the editor of the Deseret News, "Why was he not securely kept? And through whose agency was he permitted to escape?"
The magnitude of defense was compounded by the enormity of the emigration across the plains in these years and by the inability or downright cussedness of the emigrants in refusing to provide adequately for their own protection. Lynde reported meeting as many as 300 wagons a day, averaging 4 persons per wagon, with "at least 7,000 head of stock." The travelers, although sometimes armed, kept their unloaded weapons in the wagons and laughed at the major when he warned them about the probability of instant attack. Such easy pickings were too tempting to the proud and independent Shoshoni and Bannock whose every means of sustenance was being destroyed by the concourse of people and cattle anyway.
And in the wake of the dust and debris of the westward-seeking pilgrims, the Mormons were left the worry and uncertainty of maintaining their settlements in the midst of a thoroughly aroused, often hungry, and bitterly emboldened tribe of Shoshoni-Bannock. The Indians began stealing horses from the northern farmers in Cache Valley and were reported "mad" that Mormons should lead soldiers into their camps. The plan of the military to keep troops stationed at Bear River crossing during the winter months so as to "starve out the Indians" was ridiculed by the Mormon press as "certainly a novel way of conducting an Indian war." The editor added sarcastically "The future will disclose how many officers will be promoted for 'gallant and meritorious conduct' during the campaign."
At the root of the Shoshoni troubles lay the indifference and inattention of the federal government toward these Indians. With a homeland lying on the extreme eastern edge of Washington and Oregon territories, occupying areas at the northern edge of Utah Territory, and extending to the eastern end of Nevada Territory, the Shoshoni were left to their own devices while Indian agents and superintendents quibbled exasperatingly over who had proper jurisdiction. The Nevada superintendent wrote the Commissioner of Indian Affairs asking whether these Indian people were "within the scope" of his superintendency. Major John Owen, from Fort Owen in western Montana, received from his superior at Portland, Oregon, the disconcerting news that the Shoshoni-Bannock were to be placed under his temporary supervision, a grand council was to be held, and food supplies and clothing were to be issued to the Indians. Although hundreds of miles removed from them, Owen made numerous attempts to carry out his instructions which proved futile because the promised annuity goods never appeared. Indifferent and unscrupulous government agents farther east effectually stymied attempts to deliver the goods. Owen warned of reports which reached him of Shoshoni-Bannock attacks on emigrant trains: "From my present position you will see that it will not do to delay" the shipment of goods.
Utah officials also appealed to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs pointing out that as far as they knew Utah Territory was the only area thrown open to settlement without first adopting some measures "to extinguish the Indian title." They insisted that this neglect had resulted in the numerous depredations on overland wayfarers while other tribes in the West had received thousands of dollars in annuities and supplies. The Shoshoni and Bannock had "urged in justification of their course that their own country was taken possession of without their consent, their grass and water used, their game driven off, and they left to suffer and starve." Utah's territorial officials summed up the feelings of the Shoshoni- Bannock :
All such entreaties availed little. It was left to a sanguinary engagement on Bear River to focus official attention on the need for treaties, annuity goods, and recognition for the Shoshoni and Bannock.
Meanwhile, the Indian followed the age-old mores — conducting the perennial search for food, stealing the horses necessary for livelihood and honor, and collecting the scalps essential for proof of one's manhood — all of which was much easier since the guileless whites had appeared with covered wagons loaded with the necessities of life.
The summer of 1861 in only lesser degree saw wagon train attacks similar to those of the preceding year. The center of gravity shifted somewhat to the west, and Ruby Valley, Deep Creek, Antelope Canyon, and Rush Valley were the names in the news. But this did not mean that other areas were exempt, and one party lost all of its wagons and supplies plus 140 "loose animals" to an Indian raid at the City of Rocks, about 90 miles west of Fort Hall.
Pony Express stations suffered their share of scares, burnings, and killings. In a pitched battle at Deep Creek Station, 19 troopers drove off 150 Indians with a loss of two men and 14 casualties to the Indians. The Deseret News informant reported the soldiers "found it anything but fun to fight well-armed Indians, when ensconced behind rocks and trees." Sometimes the warriors mounted to the tops of rocks and then would "whoop and yell like fiends." At Shell Creek Station the agent and his two men drove off an attack and then, taking what supplies they could, made haste for Deep Creek and reinforcements. The returning party found the station in ashes.
West of Salt Lake conditions became so precarious that the settlers abandoned their homes in Rush Valley and reported in Salt Lake City that the presence of a few soldiers had transformed previously friendly Indians into hostiles who shot "at the whites whenever they saw them." Other Mormon settlers in Cache Valley also suffered when they attempted to force recognition of American law on an aboriginal people whose tribal customs were fundamentally different. The citizens of Smithfield arrested an Indian on suspicion of stealing a horse and held him for "legal investigation." Not understanding the fine points of this abstruse legal maneuver, 10 friends of the Shoshoni brave rode up and urged him to come out. When he did so, the white captain of the guard gave the necessary orders, and the guard fired and killed the would-be escapee. In revenge the warriors came upon a small group of whites and without warning killed one and wounded two. Then, meeting two brothers along the road, they killed one and wounded the other. A posse failed to apprehend the lawbreakers and the Deseret News thought that only by force of arms could the murderers be caught and that "should be a dernier resort."
With the coming of winter again, the Indians withdrew to their wickiups, the settlers gathered their stock close to home, the would-be emigrants in the Mississippi Valley attended their meetings and planned for next year's migrations, and peace settled down once more on the Wasatch province. The Indian agents now filed their yearly reports asking for the same things: annuity goods for the Shoshoni-Bannock, treaties to keep them away from the emigrant trails, and expostulations against renegade whites who continually stirred up the redskins. John Owen made a heartfelt plea for his "Snake" Indians:
The "dark clothed" picture did not brighten with the coming of the summer sun, and Owen again pleaded in September for provisions for the welfare of the "Wandering bands of Snakes and Bannocks." He insisted that the "increasing Scarcity of Game & the Constant Encroachments upon their lands by gold Miners" required some attention "on the Score of humanity" if nothing else.
News accounts substantiated the destitute condition of many of the Indians. The Deseret News reported on February 20 that one Indian was found dead within a half mile of the Pony Express Roberts Creek Station apparently "having perished from cold and starvation while on his way there for food." Even in the few instances when government agents were able to distribute a little food and clothing, illegal white traders bartered their cheap liquor for the expensive goods, leaving the Indians drunk as well as destitute. The Oregon superintendent reported to his superior in Washington, D.C, that the Shoshoni-Bannock complained that government agents had never
Despite the continual inattention of the federal authorities to their wants, the Shoshoni and Bannock did not mount as many attacks during the migration of 1861 as in the two years before. No little official correspondence occurred over 4 children taken prisoners the previous autumn as the result of a particularly vicious attack on a wagon train of 44 people near Salmon Falls on the Snake River. Major John Owen was deputized to spare no pains in attempting to recover the captives and was also informed that the military planned a concerted attack on the raiding bands in the spring of 1862. But some Confederate raiding bands in Virginia upset those plans much earlier than that.
Continued troubles with Indians in the Grantsville area west of Salt Lake City kept the settlers on alert. They finally captured 11 "Shoshone" and "Gosh-Utes," released 3 of them to bring back some stolen stock, and held the remaining braves hostage to ensure the return of the stock. But the 8 warriors overpowered the guard and escaped. Reporting the incident, one of the leaders of the settlement wrote: "These Shoshones are so vicious, that the Gosh-Utes are afraid of them, and dare not attempt to drive them out of the land." Even close to the center of Mormon Zion, a Bishop Miller of Mill Creek Ward, just south of Salt Lake City, complained of an encampment of 20 lodges of Indians who had been living off the settlers for several weeks, incidentally cutting down fences and driving off stock. To keep them from helping themselves to what they wanted, the Mormons had supplied the Indians with food, "beef in particular, for which the natives have great proclivities." A Cache Valley group of 20 Shoshoni under Chief Bear Hunter trekked to Salt Lake City to visit the Superintendent of Indian Affairs and to gather some presents, including a "complete suit of citizens' clothing" for the chief which made him feel "first-rate."
Old charges of Mormon intrigue with the Indians cropped up again as the aftermath of a raid on an emigrant train at the City of Rocks. The Carson City Silver Age charged that the 40 attackers were whites disguised as Indians and that "some of the party were recognized as Mormons." Perhaps the worst incident of the summer occurred below Salmon Falls on the Snake River when the Shoshoni and Bannock killed 11 members of an Oregon-bound party, drove the rest away, and plundered the wagons. The survivors stumbled into the Umatilla Indian Agency "perfectly exhausted, having had nothing to eat but a little dried horse meat for twenty-one days."
By the end of 1861, the Shoshoni and Bannock were becoming desperate as their foodstocks dwindled and their pasturage disappeared. One Indian agent, Benjamin Davis, had visited the Gosiute Shoshoni of northwestern Utah in January of 1861 and found them in the "lowest ebb of destitution, suffering and want. . . their poverty, sufferings and distress are beyond description." When he asked them why there were so few children among them, they replied that
In Ruby Valley, Davis met with about 800 "Western Shoshones" and "Bannocks" and had difficulty persuading them that he was no Mormon and that the "Great Captain" in Washington was "no Mormon — but American."
Indian discontent with Utah settlers and, indeed all whites, reached tinderbox combustibility as 1862 appeared, and only a slight change of wind direction was needed to set the mountain valleys afire. That change came when a "norther" blew in from Montana bringing news of the discovery of gold in the Beaverhead country. Miners and prospectors, prepared to risk all for the golden rainbow, poured into the last remaining hunting ground of the Shoshoni—the Upper Snake River Valley, bounded on the east by Yellowstone and the majestic Tetons and on the west by the Salmon River ranges.
Salt Lake City and the northern Utah settlements became the base of supplies for the miners as they left the Oregon and California trails to travel northward. Canny Mormon farmers joined the mad gold rush, mining the shiny metal from the pouches of gold diggers who needed fresh vegetables, dairy supplies, and meats. Mormons and miners alike traveled the new road in small parties rather than in caravans and offered tempting targets to the hungry and disgruntled native population. As early as May 28, 1862, reports reached Salt Lake of the death of 8 out of a party of 14 people returning from Salmon River.
Emboldened and throwing all caution to the winds, the Shoshoni and Bannock soon were raiding horse and cattle herds from Fort Bridger in the south to Fort Owen in the north, paying especial attention to the Mormon settlements north of Salt Lake where Brigham Young's precept of feeding rather than fighting the Indians was fast becoming rapacious extortion. Afraid to venture any farther north, mining parties by June were stopped just beyond Fort Hall. Soon reports began to come in that the great Shoshoni peace chief, Washakie, had been set aside and the Bannock chief, Pashego, "a man of blood," had won over the malcontents. Both Shoshoni and Bannock warriors were taking their families to the Salmon River country to get them out of danger and "when the leaves turn yellow and begin to fall . . . they are to fall upon and exterminate all the settlers in the Territory."
The increasing ferocity of attacks in June of 1862 seemed to indicate to some observers that the Shoshoni-Bannock were not content to wait until autumn. A Smith-Kinkaid party, traveling from California to the states, was attacked; Smith was shot in the back with an arrow but managed to make it to a settlement on Bear River "with the arrow yet in him." Three emigrant trains were waylaid by the Shoshoni near Soda Springs and wiped out. Several wagon columns were attacked and many people killed during the month of July. James Doty of the Utah Indian superintendency concluded his mid-summer reports:
Even the old mountaineers, friends of the Indians for years, were now not exempt from attack as the 2,000 Indians of Doty's estimate raided outlying settlements. Old mountain man, Jack Robinson, living about six miles from Fort Bridger, lost over 200 head of horses and mules on the night of July 19. He gathered 62 men as a posse to pursue the renegade thieves but to no avail.
Indian tempers seemed to rise with the temperature, the hot days of August and September bringing so many attacks that the editor of the Deseret News exploded in frustration that "for the last few months the Red Skins, especially the Snakes and Bannocks, appear to have unreservedly seceded from 'the rest of mankind.' " Emigrant trains along the Oregon Trail were greeted by posted signs bearing the name of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs:
Cataloguing the depredations of these months reveals a monotonous story repeated many times: an ambush; a short, sharp fight; wagons robbed, then set afire; and men, women, and children killed and horribly mutilated. July 8: a company of 6 men with two wagons attacked — 4 men killed. July 9: vicinity of Fort Hall — 5 emigrants killed and several others wounded — "cattle and horses lying around, perforated with balls, indicated that other depredations had been committed." July 9: 12 packers attacked, 5 men wounded and 12 pack animals lost. July 9 again: as this day marked a veritable holocaust of murder and rapine — at Massacre Rocks below the American Flails of the Snake River, a train of 11 wagons was attacked by over 200 Indians and nearly all the emigrants killed, the rest of the travelers along the trail massing together until a cavalcade estimated at 200 wagons and over 700 people had gathered for mutual protection. The morning after the attack at Massacre Rocks 40 well-armed men set out to recover the stolen stock but upon meeting with 300 similarly well-armed Indians they quickly retired after suffering 3 killed and several wounded. After leaving the junction of the Oregon and California roads, the California-bound emigrants saw "the remains of several trains which had been destroyed by the savage foemen, and were attacked several times by them."
The Deseret News editorialized: "making due allowance for all misstatements and exaggerations, there is no doubt that a large number of persons have been killed by Indians during the present season on Sublette's Cut off." On August 26, an Iowa company fought off a war party but lost all its horses and mules, 11 of its 12 wagons, and then was attacked again before sundown losing 4 men in the last battle. The survivors straggled into the settlements on Bear River near Brigham City, Utah, and reported that "emigrants, ferrymen and mountaineers were abandoning the route entirely, afraid to continue longer in the country." Mas- sacre Rocks seemed to be a favorite haunt for one band of Indian raiders. The warriors soon rushed a group of 15 men from California. A running fight ensued covering an entire day and 20 miles. The 40 Indians engaged in the battle evidently had abandoned the traditional hit-and-run tactics of former times and savagely and stubbornly pursued their victims until after dark, killing 6 men and taking most of the horses. After 5 days without food, the remaining whites reached the Box Elder settlements and related that during the pursuit one "Indian had a magnificent new American flag, which he fluttered in the breeze, but for what purpose the pursued, of course, could not stop to learn."
In utter helplessness to control their thoroughly infuriated charges, the various Indian agents could only write long "I-told-you-so" letters to their superiors, asking for money with which to buy annuity goods so that when winter came there might be some possibility of treating with the Indians for a cessation of war. Reporting from San Francisco, Special Agent Henry Martin asked for $5,000 to make a treaty with the "Shosho-nee," the money to be used to buy blankets and other supplies. Agent Luther Mann assailed the Shoshoni-Bannock for the "most brutal murders ever perpetrated upon this continent," and the Deseret News concluded that "the Indians have thrown off all restraint." But San Francisco and Salt Lake City were too many miles from Washington, D.C, where a Union government was more concerned with a general named George McClellan and his reluctance to follow up a partial victory at a place called Antietam. It would be another year before the slow wheels of bureaucratic government ground out the first of those treaties which eventually would settle the Shoshoni and Bannock on their various reservations.
Throughout the general conflagration of 1862, the northern fringe of Mormon settlements alternated between havens of safety for beleaguered emigrants and focal points of attack by their erstwhile "Lamanite" friends. And as overland travel abruptly ceased with the coming of winter, the Shoshoni-Bannock, flushed with booty and drunk with success, turned to the only area remaining which offered the opportunity to "count coup" — the villages of northern Utah. Even earlier, the Deseret News had reported that the Indians near Cache Valley
They shot at the citizens as the latter worked in the fields and exacted heavy tribute from the Mormons in flour and other goods.
The first major attack on Cache Valley settlements occurred September 27 when some Shoshoni and Bannock warriors stole about 40 horses. The settlers, 30 strong, followed the trail until dark but recovered only a few of the stolen animals. The Deseret News editor summed up the melancholy failure: "In truth we cannot recollect a single instance within the last ten years in which a pursuit of Indians has been successful under such circumstances." Three days earlier the Box Elder people had lost 20 horses, probably to the same hostile group. It was reported also that a strong concentration of Indians had gathered at Bear Lake, that they were "mad, and determined to do as much injury as possible to the white race."
Such Shoshoni-Bannock defiance was, of course, made easier in 1862 because of the withdrawal of many of the federal troops to the eastern seaboard and Civil War front. The tribes had gained a salutary respect for the "Black Coats" over the years, but the sudden vacuum occasioned by their departure had unleashed primitive instincts held in check during the pioneer migrations of the 1850's. To fill this void with other troopers the Union government authorized the governor of California to raise several regiments of volunteers to protect the Overland Mail route and incidentally to keep an eye on the Mormons in Utah. Colonel Patrick E. Connor was named commanding officer of the California Volunteers and left that state on July 12, 1862, for the march overland to Salt Lake City where he was to establish a military post. The Deseret News, suspicious and apprehensive, noted, "The Indians, of course, will be tremendously scared, and horse-thieves, gamblers, and other pests of community wondrously attracted by the gigantic demonstration."
Marching across the Nevada desert was probably anything but a "gigantic demonstration," but one incident did afford the Volunteers an opportunity to demonstrate their prowess as soldiers. At a place called Gravelly Ford on the Humboldt River a company of emigrants discovered 12 badly mutilated bodies thrown into a stream. The discovery led the Territorial Enterprise to say "It is quite time that something was done to teach the savages a severe lesson" and suggested that the following winter would be a good time for "Col. Connor's boys ... to vent a little of their pent up fighting spirit" on the Indians.
Unwilling to wait, 80 of the Volunteers under Major Edward Mc Garry headed for Gravelly Ford in an attempt to arrest and punish the murderers. On October 9, McGarry reported that some of his command "enticed into camp three Indians" and then put the 3 under guard after taking their weapons. The 3 badly frightened Indians soon broke away and, said the major, "Fearing that they would escape, and not wishing to hazard the lives of my men in recapturing them alive, I ordered the guard to fire, and they were killed on the spot." Following this first battle, a patrol came upon 14 other Indians, captured them and then killed 9 as they attempted to flee. Soon, other captives were brought in: "three Indians and one child," "two squaws," "one Indian and one squaw," "one Indian," and finally "another Indian." McGarry then released two of the hostages with instructions to bring in those who were guilty of the massacre. If they did not return by nightfall, the soldiers would kill all the prisoners in camp. When the two did not return (a futile request or have you guessed), the major put to death 4 of the prisoners and released the squaws and child.
In a final action the next day, a patrol captured 8 natives, the usual escape attempt was made, and 8 more "redskins bit the dust." The first military action of the Volunteers did not augur well for any other Shoshoni-Bannock who might get in the way. A hundred years after the event a reader might be permitted to agree with the editor of the Deseret News that the guilty had escaped long before and that the military had taken vengeance on the innocent left behind. The editor concluded that in Canada, Indian wars were relatively unknown because "the British system protects the aborigines from gross injustice; ours inflicts intolerable wrong upon them." But then, Gravelly Ford was a long way off — almost as far as Canada. Later Indian depredations closer to home led the News to a much different conclusion.
While McGarry's troops were "chastising the Indians" the rest of the Volunteer Corps lay encamped at Ruby Valley, bored and disgusted with "eating rations and freezing to death around sage brush fires." The glamour of the Civil War was a continent away and few medals or promotions awaited the valiant guarding of a Mormon prophet and a few post riders carrying the mail. In a desperate attempt to get to the battles of Virginia, the men subscribed $30,000 out of their savings and salaries to buy their way from San Francisco to Panama. The San Francisco Bulletin eagerly seconded the motion, declaring that Brigham Young could patrol the mail lines with 100 men and as far as keeping "Mormondom in order, . . . Brigham can thoroughly annihilate us with the 5,000 to 25,000 frontiersmen at his command." The editor commended the men for wanting "the privilege of going to the Potomac and agetting shot" and appealed to Lincoln's Chief of Staff:
The "Habana" did not sway General Halleck from his duty, and Colonel Connor prepared to march his command to Salt Lake City on a very meager chance that there might be combat. The editor of the San Francisco Bulletin did his best to drum up a war, repeating rumors that the Danites or Destroying Angels intended to stop the troops at Jordan Narrows. Warming to this theme, the journalist declared that the chief of the Danites was riding through the streets of the City of Salt offering to bet $500.00 that the Volunteers would never get across the Jordan River, "the bet being untaken." In answer, Connor issued 30 rounds of ammunition to each man and warned the chief of the Danites that he would "cross the river Jordan if hell yawned below him" and that "the battlefields of Mexico testify that the Colonel has a habit of keeping his word." To the mild disappointment of the troops and perhaps the greater chagrin of the officers, they were hospitably received by the Mormons, were given a prosaic welcome by Governor Stephen S. Harding before his residence in the city, and were marched to the "mouth of Red Bute" where the colonel established "Camp Douglas."
Fortunately for some of the troops, the monotony of erecting a new camp was relieved when word came from Cache Valley that an emigrant white boy had been captured by the Indians. The redoubtable Major McGarry was given the assignment of recovering the boy and marched his cavalry to the vicinity of Providence, Utah. There, about 40 Shoshoni under Chief Bear Hunter were discovered in a nearby canyon, and Mc Garry ordered his men "to commence firing, and to kill every Indian they could see." Vastly outnumbered, Bear Hunter came out with a flag of truce and surrendered himself and 20 of his warriors after receiving a promise that the troops would not kill them. The major held the chief and 4 of his braves hostage until the boy was brought in and then released the Indians. Three Shoshoni warriors were killed during the battle.
The expedition brought back information about the great loss of stock suffered by the settlers of northern Utah, and Colonel Connor decided to despatch McGarry on a second trip to try to recover some of the cattle and horses and give the Indians "a little taste of the fighting qualities of the Volunteers." Hoping to surprise the Shoshoni into a battle, the cavalry marched at night, but reached Bear River ferry on December 6 to learn that the natives had been forewarned and were prepared for defense. The soldiers had been able to capture four Indians during the night march; and retaining them as hostages, McGarry sent an Indian boy to the Shoshoni encampment to warn the chiefs that if the stolen stock in their possession was not surrendered by noon of the next day, the four prisoners would be executed. Upon receipt of this threat the Shoshoni encampment immediately packed up, crossed the Malad River, and entered Bear River Canyon. The major just as promptly had the four hostages killed, and the Deseret News feared that the deaths would "tend to make them [Shoshoni] more hostile and vindictive."
The pen was not mightier than the sword in this instance but was certainly more prophetic. The Shoshoni had already announced their intention of killing "every white man they should meet with on the north side of Bear River, till they should be fully avenged for the Indian blood which had been shed." The Mormon settlers moved all their stock from the north side of the river, and the Indians met in a great council on Bear Lake and swore vengeance. It was opportune for the California Volunteers that the allies of the Shoshoni and their friends and neighbors, the warlike Bannock, had left for the buffalo country in Montana. The Battle of Bear River might have taken a different turn if Connor's troops had met the combined forces of the two tribes. The Bannock had already sent word that the Shoshoni "receive presents for killing the white men" and had concluded that Bannock warriors would be "rewarded in like manner if they do the same." But even without their neighbors, the Shoshoni were a formidable enemy as they gathered some 600 strong north of Bear River in Cache Valley and began to attack every Gentile or non-Mormon who appeared north of that stream.
The battle line was thus drawn and all that remained to induce Connor's troops to "cross the Rubicon" was the technicality of a crime committed by Shoshoni warriors. Several such provocations were soon reported. Two express riders, George Clayton and Henry Bean, were killed near the head of Marsh Valley. On January 8, eight men from the Montana mines were attacked as they crossed Bear River just west of Richmond, Utah. The wagons were robbed, some of the horses stolen, and one man, John Henry Smith, shot down. Despite the hostility of the Indians, several Mormons crossed the river and "had an interview with some of their chiefs and principal warriors." Apparently, the magic talis- man of Brigham Young's Indian policy was effective if his Saints took courage and faith by the hand and marched boldly into the enemy's camp. The open strategy resulted in the recovery of some of the horses from the Indians although it was "with great difficulty that they were persuaded to give up as much of the property as they did."
The death of John Henry Smith furnished sufficient legal basis for an expedition against the Shoshoni camp, a foray that Colonel Connor had already decided upon anyway. On the affidavit of William Bevins, Chief Justice John F. Kinney of the Utah territorial court, issued a warrant for the arrest of Chiefs Bear Hunter, Sanpitch, and Sagwitch for the murder of John Henry Smith. Marshal Isaac L. Gibbs was instructed to make the arrests, but in the quaint language of the Deseret News "anticipating . . . that no legal process could be served upon the chiefs named," the good marshal prudently requested military assistance from Colonel Connor. The colonel later reported, "I informed the Marshal that my arrangements were made, and that it was not my intention to take any prisoners, but that he could accompany me."
The Deseret News warned that the Shoshoni had 72 lodges and 600 warriors at their encampment on Bear River and another 40 lodges and 170 warriors only a few miles away. The editor derided the whole affair, suggesting that "it will result in catching some friendly Indians, murdering them" and letting the "guilty scamps" get away.
Fearing that the Shoshoni would leave for the mountains and safety and so deprive him of the opportunity of a battle, Colonel Connor planned to move his troops at night to effect a surprise attack. Sixty-nine men of Company K, Third Infantry, left Camp Douglas on the night of January 22 and were accompanied by 15 wagons loaded with 12 days' supply and an escort of 12 cavalrymen. Two nights later, Companies A, H, K, and M of the Second Cavalry, 220 men in all, also started for Bear River. The entire force numbered slightly over 300 men.
The approach of the "Black Coats" could not be kept secret very long. On January 27, Chief Bear Hunter and some of his men visited the town of Franklin and did a war dance around the house of the Mormon bishop, Preston Thomas, in protest because they had not received all the wheat they had demanded. They were back the next day to collect more wheat and saw the infantry approaching town. When one of the citizens remarked, "Here come the soldiers. You may get killed," Bear Hunter replied, "May-be-so soldiers get killed too." But it was noted that as soon as he reached the outskirts of the village the seriousness of the situation apparently struck him with some force, and his warriors began to throw sacks of wheat to the ground to lighten their way to camp.
When the Volunteers reached Franklin, the people offered their homes and the town schoolhouse as quarters for the night, and to the frostbitten soldiers, after several nights of marching in sub-zero weather, the Mormons of Franklin were "Saints" indeed. But the rest was short. Their indefatigable commander was not going to allow the quarry to escape, and at 1:00 A.M. the infantrymen were routed out to march through the freezing night to Bear River 12 miles away. The more fortunate cavalrymen had two more hours sleep before they were dispatched at 3:00 A.M. The cavalry reached the river first, and Connor noted in his report, "as daylight was approaching I was apprehensive that the Indians would discover the strength of my force and make their escape." So, the colonel ordered a rapid march by the cavalry with instructions to "surround before attacking them."
Patrick Connor could have saved himself all the worry and uncertainty ; the Indians did not intend to run away. They were well prepared and eager for the chance to kill some soldiers. The Shoshoni leaders had chosen their spot well. Colonel Connor said:
The ravine, known today as Battle Creek, ran north from Bear River back into some low hills covered with sagebrush and juniper. To the Indian chieftains, their position looked impregnable. If the army attack over level ground in front of the ravine became too menacing, there were two avenues of escape, one by way of Bear River at the mouth of the gully and the other at the head leading into the hills. The women with their children could leave the tipis at the bottom of the ravine and escape first, under protective fire, while their warrior-husbands fought a rear-guard action.
That the battle did not end this way was melancholy proof that Shoshoni generals were no more capable of seeing a battleground from the enemy's point of view than many another military leader whose name has perhaps been writ more prominently in history. The main facts of the military action are soon recounted. The first cavalry units crossed the river and attacked the Indian redoubt across the open plain. As the troops formed a battle line "The Indians seemed to look upon the coming struggle with particularly good humor." One of the chiefs rode up and down in front of the ravine, "brandishing his spear in the face of the volunteers," while the warriors along the bank yelled, "Fours right, fours left; come on you California sons-of-b—hs!" The attacking force suffered most of its casualties in the initial action as an accurate fire from the Indian entrenchments cut down the troopers.
Colonel Connor sent flanking parties to each end of the ravine and the ensuing enfilading fire soon closed the supposedly prized avenues of escape, converting the entrenched gully into a death trap. Near the end of the four-hour engagement, the hand-to-hand fighting degenerated into a near-massacre as the troopers shot down men, women, and children without mercy. Comparisons of the fatalities suffered by both sides reveal the ruthlessness of Connor's troops. The California Volunteers suffered 22 killed, 49 wounded, and 79 with frozen feet. The Shoshoni losses varied from the 224 dead reported by Connor to nearly 400 accounted for by other observers. These figures included some women and children, a number as high as 90 according to one account. After the battle the troopers destroyed 70 tipis, captured 175 horses, collected over 1,000 bushels of wheat, and gathered many articles obviously plundered from emigrant trains. The Logan Mormons expressed the general feeling that despite the cruelty of the fight, the action of Colonel Connor was "the intervention of the Almighty, in subduing the Indians of the Bear River Area."
Official government reaction to the battle was best expressed by Superintendent James Doty of the Utah Indian Office. "It struck terror into the hearts of the savages hundreds of miles away from the battlefield." He believed the defeat had "effectually checked them and justly punished them for the wanton acts of cruelty which they had committed." And it is true that later in the spring when Patrick Connor, as a new brigadier general, led his troops on a demonstration march into the Snake River country of Fort Hall he could find no Indians. The Shoshoni and Bannock had learned the bitter lesson that most Indian tribes had had to face at some time in their history — against an effective force of armed troops pitched battles meant disaster. The Indians of the Oregon Trail complex, therefore, returned to the traditional hit-and-run strategy of former years — to tactics which had been successful in the past and could be again.
Mormon settlers and emigrants alike felt the anger of the Shoshoni very soon. A friendly Indian reported that Chief Sagwitch had been wounded only in the hand during the battle and that now he was "very mad at the Mormons," that he had seen "Mormons help the soldiers to fight and that he will use all the influence he has with other Indians to steal from us [the Mormons]." The Shoshoni chief, Pocatello, who had escaped the battle, sent word that he wanted "to fight" and wished to meet General Connor's troops "to gratify his greediness for glory" as the Deseret News put it. Later, when the California Volunteers accepted the dare, Pocatello discreetly "skedaddled" with his warriors. On April 22, the Salt Lake newspaper reported that the Indians along the trail to the northern mines were "far from being friendly to the whites, and intend to make good the losses they sustained at the battle of Bear River before the end of the year."
After three months of boasting, the Shoshoni and Bannock began to strike again as warm, dry weather brought increased mobility. On May 4, a segment of General Connor's command had a fight with some Indians about 50 miles from Shell Creek, west of Salt Lake, and killed 29. Two days later, another battle resulted in the deaths of 23 warriors. The Deseret News passed on the rumor that Connor's troops had been ordered to shoot on sight any Indian, that the army had adopted the Indian philosophy of a "scalp for a scalp" but added "We do not believe the report, for we cannot think that any gentlemen wearing lace can be thus void of humanity."
Back near the site of the January battle, Chief Sagwitch, unrepentant, mistreated a boy herding cattle near Brigham City and drove off most of the herd. Eight or 10 "Danish men" working nearby pursued the Indians and recovered the stock. But before leaving the vicinity Sagwitch's warriors killed a "man burning coal in a side canyon." Perhaps the best summary of Indian depredations and the reaction of the Mormon settlers can be found in a letter written by Ezra T. Benson of Cache Valley to one of the church leaders and commanding officer of the territorial militia, Daniel H. Wells:
Within two months of this letter, General Patrick Connor had also come to realize that it takes more than one battle to make a winner. After his discouraging trip to the Fort Hall area where he sighted no hostiles, some of the Oregon emigrants reported that "General Connor has been disappointed in his arrangements with the Indians; that one train had already been attacked some forty miles beyond Fort Hall." It is true that he met with bands of Indians who gave him "their earnest protestations of good conduct in the past and promise of the most lamb-like and angelic performances in the future" but such protestations did not mean much if the time, the place, and the emigrant train were right.
The Bureau of Indian Affairs had attempted to settle the various Shoshoni tribes, and Agent James Doty, with the aid of General Connor, did conclude three treaties during the summer of 1863: one with the eastern Shoshoni at Fort Bridger on July 2; one with the northwestern bands at Box Elder, July 30; and a final one with the western bands at Ruby Valley, on October 1. But as Doty pointed out in his report to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs:
The Oregon and California trails were to witness many more attacks and killings until the coming of the railroad in 1869 reduced in number the covered wagon trains traversing the dusty trails. As a negligent government and indifferent or hostile settlers watched, the Shoshoni and Bannock continued to wander their mountains and deserts, desperately searching for sustenance until forced to accept a reservation life which took them forever from their age-old haunts along the Oregon Trail.
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