The Last Squaw Fight

Utah Historical Quarterly

Volume IX, 1941, Numbers 1-4

THE LAST SQUAW FIGHT

By JESSIE K. EMPEY 1

Santa Clara, Utah, was settled by a call from Brigham Young for the purpose of establishing peace with the Indians and influencing them against disturbing freighters en route between Salt Lake and California.

Jacob Hamblin, the "Great Leather Stocking of the Southwest ' and who might well be called "Father of Utah's Dixie," shouldered this responsibility. In the year 1854, he, with Samuel Knight, A. P. Hardy, Ira Hatch, and Thales Haskell built a log cabin on the banks of the Santa Clara Creek within a short distance of a Piute Indian camp ground. Stories of the experiences of these brave men as they battled courageously against a savage country in an effort to carry out the commands of their leader, still live in the memory of most Dixie people.

The story of the last squaw fight has ranked for many years among the favorite fire-side tales of Dixie (Washington Co.). This fight occurred in 1861, just before the trek of the Great Cotton Mission to Southern Utah, by which time the Mormon missionaries had gained considerable influence among the Indians.

The combat was a tribal fight between two suitors, and was carried out according to long standing rites. It was the custom among the Indians at that particular time to bargain off their squaws.

Whenever an Indian brave was ready to take a maiden for his own, he was obliged, according to the Indian law to go to the girl's father and offer to purchase her. If, however, it happened that the girl had an accepted lover, the price must cover that already paid by the first lover, and the rivals were compelled to settle with a fist fight, providing they were physically equal. But when physical differences occurred and each aspirant was held high enough in the esteem of his fellow tribesmen, they were granted the right to institute a tribal mock war in order to win the girl.

The aspirants in this particular battle were young men of influence in their respective bands. However, when Ankawakeets, a brave of Coal Creek John's band from Iron county made application for the hand of a beautiful, slender maiden of Tutse Gauvett's band at Santa Clara, he discovered she had already accepted a young brave of her own tribe. Ankawakeets, nevertheless, was dauntless in his desire for this particularly lovely girl and, producing the necessary purchase price, claimed her hand. Panimeto, the girl's accepted lover, was a youthful, eagle-eyed, fine-featured brave, but many pounds lighter in weight and several years younger than the masterly, brawny, fully-developed Ankawakeets, so the problem could not be solved by personal combat, but had to be arranged between the two tribes.

After several weeks serious consideration, arrangements were made for twenty carefully chosen warriors from each band to participate in a tribal contest, and a section of flat land just west of the old Santa Clara fort was selected as the scene of battle. The exact location is just to the left of Highway U. S. 91 as one enters the town of Santa Clara, from the west. Present the day this feat took place were Jacob Hamblin, Thales Haskell, Andrew Gibbons, and other early Mormon missionaries. On the day set apart, the warriors gathered at dawn. It was, indeed, a sight never to be forgotten. The braves were all stark naked except for the indispensable breech-clout, and their reddish-brown bodies made more brilliant the streaks of vari-colored war paint. They stood in two rows facing each other, with each lover at the head, the young squaw being placed between them.

Boundary lines were marked off in the form of a square to keep the spectators from crowding too close, and the Santa Clara Creek served as the south boundary line. Preparatory details were carried out as solemnly and sedately as if it were an English duel. Just over the east boundary line stood Chief Coal Creek John, surrounded by various braves in charge of the necessary preparations, and personal friends of Ankawakeets who had come to observe the battle. Beyond the west boundary line stood Chief Tutse Gauvett, and he was the center of a group of personal friends of Panimeto and other braves of his tribe. All tribesmen were in their regular war dress.

At length a few quick raps on an Indian drum served as the signal to make ready, and soon the opponents were facing each other across a line marked off in the sand, running north and south through the center of the square, with Panimeto and Ankawakeets heading each line. More raps from the drum brought forth the maiden led by her grim-faced father, who placed her between the two lovers. Frantically she glanced first at Panimeto, passively standing beside her, then up at the audacious Ankawakeets, and terror worse than death spread itself across her face as she let herself gaze down the double row of warriors.

With head boweH, the father backed slowly out of the square, and the moment he passed over the boundary line from which he had come, a loud rumble of the drum penetrated the air and silenced the merry murmur of the creek. Quickly the accepted lover seized the hand of the frustrated girl and courageously forced her down the lane of frightful faces. The rumble of the drum sounded louder and louder as they passed several crouching bodies, then stopped suddenly as the lover was finally challenged. When he let loose of the girl's hand a multitude of wild shrieks arose from the fray, and the battle was on.

To overpower an opponent, one had to throw him squarely on his back and hold him securely for the time it would take to scalp an actual enemy. The struggle continued in this manner for an hour or more with only a few warriors on each side disqualified. They were so evenly matched that neither side seemed able to gain an advantage.

Finally they decided to change their method of battle. A goal for one lover was marked off a measured distance from the center line in the square, and likewise for the other lover in the opposite direction. The father was then instructed to lead the maiden to the center of the line, and after another signal from the drum, both parties dashed toward her and endeavored to force her to their respective goals. It was not long before it became a regular "tug-of-war" with an equal number of accomplished warriors on each side.

As they gyrated back and forth first on one side of the line and then on the other, they eventually worked themselves in one of their wild swirling movements, to the bank of the creek, and fell helter-skelter into the water, dragging the helpless girl along with them.

Due to her physical weakness, the girl seemed for a moment to lose consciousness, for she made no effort to raise herself from beneath the water. A younger brother heretofore had stood aloof from the crowd, but this turn of events disturbed him greatly and he hastened to rescue his sister, only to find that Andrew Gibbons, one of the missionaries, had seized the glossy black locks that were switching around on the surface of the water, and was pulling her from the water.

It had been understood there would be no interference from the white men if they were allowed to witness the battle, so Gibbons was immediately confronted by the hostile Ankawakeets and challenged to fight. He accepted the challenge, and stepped into the large circle formed by the dripping red men.

Ankawakeets was weakened from the battle and very shortly found himself held by Gibbons full-length upon the ground. After the imaginary scalping was completed, the defeated rival arose to his feet, strode haughtily to where the maid was standing and spoke a few words to her in undertones. Without a reply, she bowed her head, held out her hand and he reluctantly guided her over to the victor and presented her as a gift for his valor and skill.

Gibbons accepted the girl's hand and Ankawakeets joined his men with orders to make preparation to leave. From ail appearances this terminated the affair, and, without any doubt that he had earned the right, Gibbons, in turn, presented the girl as a gift to her lover. This unusual procedure on the part of the white man, startled Panimeto, and he stood motionless as if he could hardly believe his eyes. Then suddenly the youth reached out his arms, pulled the girl close to him and in speechless admiration looked straight into the understanding eyes of the white man.

Very soon the friends and relatives of the happy couple began crowding around them, and there arose a contented chatter, which attracted the attention of Ankawakeets and his braves. As soon as they realized what had happened, they broke into a rebellious war-whoop and rushed over to the crowd and demanded the girl. Another missionary, Thales Haskell, interfered when he saw Ankawakeets pulling at the girl as she clung desperately to her lover. Several white men joined Haskell, and they tried without avail to convince the chieftains it was wrong to fight over a love-affair.

After a long consultation and much to the disappointment of Panimento, Tutse Gauvett finally commanded the warriors to go on with the fight until the setting of the sun. If neither party was defeated by then, the girl could go to the lover of her choice. The blood-smeared braves again took their places on each side of the center line, and as if in a hurry to decide their fate, the terrorstricken, horrified girl was rushed again to the center line dividing the goals.

The devoted younger brother of the girl was much displeased at this final decision. With troubled eyes, he watched closely every movement that was made. When the warriors lunged madly again toward his agonized sister, he dashed to her side, drew his knife and buried it deep into her bosom. Her lover chanced to be near and she fell lifeless into his arms.

With trembling lips, the boy held high his bloody knife and painfully exclaimed, "I loved my sister too well to see her suffer more. Here's my knife if you think me wrong. I'm not afraid to die!" But every warrior bowed low his head and in silence passed him by.

This was the last squaw fight ever held in the locality, for Jacob Hamblin, who was so greatly respected by the Indians, persuaded them after this tragedy occurred, to discontinue the custom.

References

1 The author, in presenting this story for publication, writes:

"I am vitally interested in the unique history of Utah—especiaUy Utah's 'Dixie.' My roots reach far down into the soil of this rugged country—as far down as my great-grand-parents, who sacrificed much, that I might call it home."