NorthWest Reference Resources Unsettling Events: Cayuse War
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MILITIA IN THE CAYUSE WAR

Virgil Field, "Militia in the Cayuse War," Volume I Chapter VI.  History of the Washington National Guard.

On the 7th of December 1847, the Provisional Legislature of "Oregon Country" convened at Oregon City to determine what action should be taken against the perpetrators of the massacre of Dr. Marcus Whitman, his wife, and followers at Waiilatpu Mission (near Walla Walla) on 29 November 1847.

Upon being informed of the details of the massacre, the Provisional Legislature adopted a Resolution submitted by J. W. Nesmith of Polk County.  This resolution required the Governor, George Abernathy, to raise, arm and equip a company of militia riflemen, with their Captain and subaltern officers, and dispatch them immediately to occupy the Mission station at the Dalles on the Columbia River and hold possession of same until reinforcements arrived at that point.

The Company was enlisted at once, sworn in and officered the following day.  By noon of the 9th of December, the Company was equipped and the same afternoon departed for Vancouver by boat under the command of Captain H. A. G. Lee.

At another session on 9 December 1847, the Legislature passed a Bill authorizing the Governor to raise "A Regiment of Militia Volunteers".  However, due to the objections of the Governor, the Bill was returned for amendment to limit the size of the Regiment to 500 men.  The amended Bill was passed the same morning and the processes to enroll and equip the militia began.  The Regiment was to rendezvous at Oregon City on the 25th of December 1847 and proceed thence with all possible dispatch to Walla Walla Valley.

Text of the Bill was as follows:

BILL PASSED BY THE OREGON PROVISIONAL LEGISLATURE

ON 7 DECEMBER 1847

    SEC. 1.  That the Governor of Oregon Territory be and is hereby authorized and required forthwith to issue his proclamation to the people of said territory to raise a Regiment of riflemen by volunteer enlistment, not to exceed five hundred men, to be subject to the rules and articles of war of the United States Army, and whose term of service shall expire at the end of ten months, unless sooner discharged by the proclamation of the governor.  

    SEC. 2.  That said Regiment of volunteers shall rendezvous at Oregon City on the twenty-fifth day of December, A.D. 1847, and proceed thence with all possible dispatch to the Walla Walla Valley for the purpose of punishing the Indians, to what tribe or tribes soever they may belong, who may have aided or abetted in the

 massacre of Dr. Marcus Whitman and his wife, and others at Waiilatpu, or be otherwise employed as the Governor may direct.  

    SEC. 3.  That the Legislature of Oregon shall appoint one colonel, one lieutenant colonel, and one major to officer said Regiment of volunteers when raised by the governor as provided for in the first section of this Bill and, further, that the Legislature also appoint a commissary-general, whose duty is shall be to keep a regular account of the disbursements of all the funds placed at his disposal, and faithfully perform all other duties pertaining to his office, and who shall perform the duties of quartermaster-general for the army.  

    SEC. 4.  Said Regiment shall be organized into companies, to consist each of not more than one hundred or less than fifty men; and each company shall elect their own officers, to wit One Captain, one First and one Second Lieutenant, one orderly sergeant, and four duty sergeants.  

    SEC. 5.  That Jess Applegate, A. L. Lovejoy, and George L. Curry be and are hereby authorized and empowered to negotiate a loan not to exceed one hundred thousand dollars for the purpose of carrying out the provisions of this act; and that said commission be and are authorized to pledge the faith of the territory for the payment of such sum as may be negotiated for by said commissioners, on the most practicable terms, payable within three years from the date of said loan, unless sooner discharged by the Government of the United States.  

    SEC. 6.  Said loan may be negotiated for gold and silver, or such goods as may be necessary for the use of the army; provided, however, that the holder of such goods be required to deduct from the loan the value of the goods negotiated for, but remaining in his hands at the cessation of hostilities.  

Due to lack of finances, the governor was only able to muster about 100 additional volunteers by 25 December.  At a secret session held that date, the Provisional Legislature authorized the Governor to issue the following proclamation.

PROCLAMATION OF 25 DECEMBER 1847

In consequence of the low state of the finances of this country, and the general impression being that the Indians of the upper country were not united, a small force was thought sufficient to proceed to Walla Walla to punish the Cayuse Indians, and a proclamation was issued by me asking for one hundred men, since which information has been received here which leads to the belief that the Indians have united, and the force ordered out in that

 case being insufficient, I therefore call on the citizens of the territory to furnish five hundred men and appoint the following persons brevet captains to enroll such citizens as may wish to enlist, viz., Wesley Shannon, John Ford and Thomas McKay, Champoeg County; John Owens, Wm. Williams and John Stewart, Polk County; Philip Thompson, George Nelson, and Felix Scott, Yamhill County; Isaac W. Smith and Benjamin Q. Tucker, Tualatin County, James Officer, Clackamas County.  The enlistments to be for six months, unless sooner discharged by proclamation.

Each man will furnish his own horse, arms, clothing, and blankets.  The companies will bring all the ammunition, percussion caps, and camp equipage they can, for which they will receive a receipt from the commissary-general.  The Colonel in command will remain in Oregon City until the first companies arrive at Portland, when he will take command, and proceed forthwith to Walla Walla.  The Lieutenant Colonel will remain until the rear companies arrive at or near Portland, when he will take command and proceed to Walla Walla.

Companies will rendezvous at Portland, or opposite Portland on or before the eighth day of January 1848.  Whenever a sufficient number of volunteers arrive on the ground at Portland they will organize and proceed to elect their officers, viz., one captain, one first lieutenant, one second lieutenant, one orderly sergeant and four duty sergeants.

Companies will consist of eighty-five men, rank and file.  If any company should be formed in the counties smaller or larger, they will be regulated after they arrive on the ground.

As the commissary-general will not be able to furnish a sufficient quantity of provisions for the army, the citizens of the territory are called on to deliver to his agents all the provisions they can, that the operations of the troops may not be impeded for want of provisions.  Agents will be appointed by him in Salem, Yamhill Ferry, Champoeg, Butte, and Portland.

In witness whereof, I have signed my name and affixed the seal of the territory at Oregon City, this twenty-fifth day of December 1847.

    GEORGE ABERNETHY

At a session on 26 December 1847, the Provisional Legislature elected Cornelius Gilliam, Colonel, to command the First Regiment of Oregon Riflemen; James Waters, Lieutenant Colonel; Captain A. G. Lee, Major; A. L. Lovejoy, Adjutant General; and Indian Agent Joel Palmer, Commissary-General.

Based upon the governor's proclamation of December, two hundred and thirty men responded and were organized into four companies.  The company then at the Dalles was designated the First Company.  The Second Company was commanded by Captain Lawrence Hall; the Third by

 Captain John Omen; the Fourth by Captain H. J. G. Mason (later Major of Washington Territorial Militia); and the Fifth by Captain Philip F. Thompson.  Following their organization and equipping, these companies, under the Regimental Commander, Colonel Gilliam, proceeded to the Dalles via Vancouver.

By the last of February, six more companies had been organized and had either arrived or were enroute to Oregon City.  The Companies were the Sixth under the command of Captain Thomas McKay and composed mostly of Canadians; [Footnote 2: : I.E. retired employees of the Hudson's Bay Company who had settled in the Willamette Valley. (Ed.)] the Seventh under Captain Levin N. English from Marion County; the Eighth under Captain Martin, also from Marion County; the Ninth from Clackamas County under the command of Captain William Shaw (father of Colonel B. F. Shaw, Washington Territory Militia, who was a member of his father's company); the Tenth from Marion County under Captain J. L. Garrison; and the eleventh under Captain George W. Burnett from Willamette.

In the meantime, Colonel Gilliam, with troops at Camp Lee (The Dalles) moved on 24 January for Walla Walla Valley.  Enroute they engaged the Indians in a fight on the 25th and 26th but progressed along and arrived on the Walla Walla River on the 28th of January 1848.  After several attempts to secure peace with the Indians through a Peace Commission, with the understanding that the guilty Indians would be surrendered, Colonel Gilliam, with about two companies, left Waiilatpu on the 20th of March for the purpose of protecting supplies for movement to Walla Walla Valley (Camp Walters).  

While preparing to camp near Umatilla that night, Colonel Gilliam was drawing a rope from the wagon with which to tether his horse when it caught upon the trigger of a gun lying in the bottom of the wagon, discharging it, the bullet entering his body and causing instant death.  Major Lee and Captain McKay conducted his remains to Willamette Valley and reported the recent developments and condition of troops to Adjutant General Lovejoy and Governor Abernethy.

In the meantime, three more companies were mustered into service based upon another proclamation issued by the Governor based upon Lee's request when he was appointed Colonel of the Regiment following Colonel Gilliam's death.  These companies were not numbered and were under the command of Captains J. W. Nesmith, William P. Hugh and Felix Scott.  Captain Scott's Company was known as the Independent Rifle Rangers.

Colonel Lee, with these fresh troops, arrived back at Waiilatpu about the 9th of May 1848 where he found dissension among the troops because he had been promoted over Lieutenant Colonel Waters.  In view of this reaction he immediately returned his commission to

 the governor and agreed to serve as a Lieutenant Colonel under Waters.  

Lee's commission also included an appointment by the governor as Superintendent of Indian Affairs vice Palmer resigned.  Lee's instructions as Superintendent were to try and make peace with the tribes, and at the same time seek out and apprehend the murderers of Dr. Whitman and party.  News of Lee's appointment coupled with the arrival of additional volunteers brought about a settlement with the Nez Perce.  

Colonel Waters wrote the governor that "the friendship of the Indians increases with our numbers."  Treaties were also consummated with the Walla Wallas and Cayuses with the understanding that the Volunteers would continue to hold the country until the murderers were punished, the stolen property returned, and that which was destroyed paid for.  In the meantime, plans and preparations went forward for pursuit of the murderers who were believed to have taken refuge in the Nez Perce country.  On the l7th of May 1848, over 400 men set out upon the march to the "Clearwater"

The following morning after camping at "Coppie", Lee with Captain Thompson and 125 men proceeded toward Red Wolfe's camp on the Snake River crossing, to be ready to intercept the flight of the fugitives to the mountains, while the main body would march to the river at the mouth of the Palouse, and crossing there, prevent them from escaping down the Columbia.

Upon arrival of Lee at Red Wolfe's crossing, he was informed that the guilty Cayuses had fled, leaving behind all of their property, mostly at Lapwai.  Lee succeeded with the assistance of the Nez Perces in driving some 118 horses and 40 head of cattle back to Waiilatpu.  Before leaving Lapwai, Lee offered a reward of several hundred dollars for apprehension of the murderers, or any two of the principals with a lesser amount for capture of one or for information leading to their capture.  

The reward was principally the money value in blankets and shirts donated by the volunteers.

By this time it was evident that the campaign would have to be brought to a close without the capture of the murderers because of the harvests to be gathered in Willamette Valley.  Accordingly, the Regiment, less one company which was left to guard Forts Waters and Lee until the arrival of United States Troops, proceeded back to Willamette Valley where on 5 July  1848,  proclamation was issued for their discharge.

On 14 August 1848, Oregon was created a Territory and Joseph Lane was appointed Governor by President Polk.  Oregon's first territorial governor was born in North Carolina and entered the military service during the Mexican War from Indiana, as Colonel of the 2nd Indiana Volunteers, on 25 June 1846.  He was promoted to

 Brigadier General on 1 July 1846 and to Brevet Major General 9 October 1847 for gallant and meritorious conduct in the battle of Huamantla, Mexico.

On 3 March 1849, Governor Lane issued a Proclamation announcing that the new Territorial Government of Oregon was formed.  He immediately issued another Proclamation calling for an election of members of the first Territorial Legislature.  The counties of Vancouver and Lewis north of the Columbia, and Clatsop on the southside, formed one district.  Samuel F. McKean of Clatsop was elected to the Council and Michael T. Simmons was elected Representative.  The first Territorial Legislature convened in Oregon City on 16 July 1849 and remained in session for one hundred days.  

During this session Vancouver County was changed to Clark County.  All of what is now Washington, except Clark County, was the third district and was then Lewis County.  Chief Justice Bryant who had been attached to the third district by Governor Lane arrived at Fort Nisqually on 3O September 1849 and proceeded to conduct a trial at Fort Steilacoom where six Indians were tried for the murders of settlers.  Two were found guilty and hanged and the other four released for lack of evidence.  

Thus the first legal court was established and conducted in what is now the State of Washington.  On 2 May 1850, the alleged murderers of Dr. Whitman and party were brought to Oregon City for trial.  Based upon testimony of the escaped member of the Whitman party, all five Indians charged with the massacre were found guilty and hanged.  Thus the Indians were shown for a second time that justice would certainly overtake them.

In the meantime, and prior to the above mentioned trials, Companies L and M, 1st Regiment of United States Artillery, was sent to Fort Vancouver from Benicia Arsenal, California.  These troops, under the command of Major John Samuel Hatheway, U.S. Army, numbered one hundred sixty-one officers and men and arrived at Fort Vancouver in July 1849, following which a part of his command took station at Astoria under the command of Captain Bennett Hoskin Hill.  

This command in August 1849 was moved to and established Fort Steilacoom in time to assist in the first of the trials mentioned above.  Both of these officers were graduates of West Point.  Major Hatheway graduated on 1 July 1832 and was breveted Major for gallantry in the battles of Contreras and Churubusko, Mexico.  He died on 31 March 1853.  Captain Hill was a graduate of the class of 1833 and rose to the rank of Brigadier General during the Civil War.

Virgil Field, "The Militia in the Cayuse War,"  History of the Washington National Guard.  Volume I Chapter VI.

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+++CAYUSE WAR

S.A. Clarke, "The Cayuse War," Pioneer Days of Oregon History

Cleveland, Ohio: Arthur H. Clark Company, 1905.

p.546-567  .

The best efforts of the Hudson's Bay people availed nothing.  They had warned Whitman of his danger when they heard what threats the Cayuses made, but he could not believe they had murder in their hearts.  Nothing could pacify or satisfy the Cayuses; they were frantic at the loss of friends and children.

Although the disease prevailed also at the mission and was in some cases fatal they listened to the words of a half-breed miscreant, named Jo Lewis, who assured them that they were being poisoned purposely by Dr. Whitman, who wanted their lands for friends of his who were to come in the future.  He even asserted that he heard the doctor,  Mr. Spaulding and Mrs, Whitman  describe in his hearing how to destroy them in the most certain manner.

    

This infamous creature came there wandering and homeless, naked and hungry, and Whitman, whose nature was generous, took him into his employ and treated him with kindness.  When be saw that the influence of Jo Lewis was evil, he was discharged, but he soon returned and begged so piteously, that he was again set to work, against the doctor's better judgment.  

He repaid this kindness with the basest treachery; calling up the fate of their race on the Atlantic; he stimulated their native ferocity with this fact of history, then added the perjured lie, that they were to be victims of the doctor's art, and that Whitman's medicine was deadly.

    

False and savage as these Cayuses were, as they had treated this benefactor, who abandoned civilization to bring them news of salvation, one cannot but feel some leniency toward a race terrorized by falsehood, who were so tenacious of their rights and their homes.

    

On that fatal 28th of November, 1847, a few of the most fanatical and savage of the Cayuses murdered Dr. and Mrs. Whitman, and many more, including men and boys who were sick in their beds; sparing only three men who could manage the mills, and the women, girls and children some of them for a fate worse than death.  

A few escaped to the trading fort, but there were eleven ghastly corpses and mangled remains of those zealous servants of God who surrendered civilized life for that of the wilderness, and devoted themselves to the service of these very murderers!

    

These were the incidents  that led to the Cayuse war.  Dr. Whitman had been warned by Dr. McLaughlin, Agent McKinlay and others, that the Cayuses were becoming dangerous before the immigration brought the measles among them.  The doctor and Mrs. Whitman talked over their danger at this very time, and wept over the possibilities of their fate.  

Agent McBean, in charge at this time at Fort Walla Walla, was most apprehensive from what he heard and saw, but with a courage that defied fate, the devoted missionaries remained at their posts and became martyrs to their faith.      

      

We must remember that promises and assurances given the Cayuses in advance of their coming by Rev.  Samuel Parker, that they should be paid for their land and receive annual gifts.  Of course, be referred to the course be supposed the government would pursue, but while he dealt in suppositions, the Indians treasured every word as a specific promises from one who came to them representing the white man's God in his own person.

    

The writer of this secured from a lady who was at thirteen years of age a survivor of that fearful time, a full and complete account of the massacre and of her captivity, as also the beautiful family life in the Whitman home, where they cared for a large number of children, orphaned on the plains, who became their own children by adoption.  

He learned many facts from this lady, who was his near neighbor, also from the nephew of Dr. Whitman and from the Spauldings, all of which confirm the belief that Whitman labored, endured and suffered in the effort to benefit this savage race, much more than could have been expected   of them.

    

The fate of the Whitmans, of the many who composed their family and persons in their employ, came upon the pioneers of the Occident with fearful effect.  The Hudson's Bay Company took immediate steps to free the captives, sending an armed company under Peter Skeen Ogden, one of their leaders, who went to negotiate for the purchase of the women and children, paid their ransom as agreed and conveyed them to the settlements in safety-a work of humanity much to the credit of that company.

    

The question of permitting savage murderers to go unpunished had to be met, and the decision of the brave pioneers was, that the safety of their settlements, as well ,as of future immigrations that must pass through that country, demanded that the Cayuses should be severely punished and every one of the murderers convicted and suffer death as punishment.

    

At that time the few pioneers had inaugurated a provisional

government that had no means at communication, a  governor who had no reliable salary, a legislature that had no resources to draw from.

    

The few thousands of early settlers were scattered over a wide region west of the Cascade Range, far from the hostile tribe, with but scanty means to live and no sources of revenue but the acres they had subdued.  Wheat was legal tender and the currency in circulation was the promises of the Hudson's Bay Company, of the missions, and of individuals who were in trade, or had more than ordinary resources.  To prosecute war, equip a regiment, and secure material was scarcely possible.

           

Through the Hudson's Bay Company, the news reached governor George Abernethy at Oregon City, within ten days after the massacre-on December 8th.  The legislature had met, so the matter was laid before that body by the governor.  It may be imagined that consternation filled this far community.  With energy that was as surprising as it was patriotic, the legislature ordered a company of fifty  riflemen enrolled and equipped, which was done in twenty four hours.  

The governor, with the loan committee appointed by the legislature, consisting of Jesse Applegate, A. L. Lovejoy and G. L. Curry, went the same day to Vancouver, and by pledging their individual credit, purchased about $1,000 worth of supplies for the use of this company.  Further means, to the extent of about $5,000, was raised; $],,000 from the treasury of the Methodist mission, $1,600 from merchants at Oregon City and yet more by contribution of supplies from producers.

    

In this inchoate condition, few at least too poor to have what are called life's comforts and ill supplied for absolute needs, these intrepid pioneers commenced a war with savages removed two hundred and fifty miles from their base of supplies, in a wilderness inhabited by wild beasts and as wild tribes.  Their especial enemy was the most numerous, savage and warlike tribe of all!

    

The entire American force in Oregon seemed unequal to such an emergency.  To be sure, they had their old-fashioned rifles, and each man had some powder and ban, but they had no supply adequate for a campaign, for the less than $5,000 at their command was but a drop in a bucket to the needs of such a war.  They sent a messenger to the national capitol, three thousand miles away, who, though a mountain man of tried experience, must be months on the way.

This failed, after risking the lives of the party in vain effort to surmount the snows of the Siskiyou Range.  There was no vessel bound for San Francisco that winter; the only craft to leave the Columbia River was bound to Honolulu, and they sent by it a letter to the

 American consul there, explaining their emergency.  Isolated from the world, they summoned all their courage to dare fate and carry the war into the enemy's country!

    

Has history in America record of an greater pluck than this?

Congress had been talking since 1825 of the Oregon question, and all the United States knew of the importance of the Pacific Coast of America.  Discussion in favor of a pending donation land bill had been going on for years.  Time and again those Oregonians of the farthest Occident bad sent memorials to Congress stating their isolation and danger and pleading their love for their country; urging their helplessness and exposure, lack of means and resources, and their weakness in case of difficulty, but no notice was

taken-no answer made.  So this small band of Americans was left to battle for life or death as they could.

Had our government recognized its duty to itself, even as well as to the struggling patriots who preserved for it an empire on the Pacific that is scarce squalled on the face of earth, they would have been protected and nourished in safety; there would have been fewer outrages on Indians and fewer acts of vengeance in return; there would have been no Indian wars and no such holocaust of victims as were slaughtered at Waiilatpu that November morning in 1847.  A firm hand and a just rule on the part of our government

could have protected the Indians as a race, as well as the. whites, and have left the history of the United States unstained as to both!

The presence of those rescued women and children was enough to incite men to heroism, and their story of outrage and suffering was potent to arouse vengeance.  The massacre occurred November 28th and the rescued survivors reached Oregon City on January 8th.  Too much praise cannot be given to Mr. Ogden and to the officers of the Hudson's Bay Company for their noble generosity in purchasing the freedom of the captives, and for their courage in risking their own relations with the Indians of the entire region by this interference to protect the victims and restrain further violence.

    

By act of the legislature the regiment of 500 men was to rendezvous at Oregon City by the 15th of December, then proceed to the seat of war to punish those guilty of the massacre.  The features of that time would make a volume of romance as well as tragedy, but this is merely a sketch of what actually occurred in prosecution of the war, so we pass over the intervening details.

           

We will now trace the progress of the war in the field, show bow the volunteers went to the front in the depths of winter and drove the haughty Cayuses to sue for peace, and so prevent their taking part in future wars.

       

The scene of the war was Eastern Oregon, while the white population was all west of the Cascade Range, chiefly in the Willamette valley.  For over sixty miles the Columbia River has worn its way through these wide sierras; great difficulty of transportation has always resulted from the existence of formidable obstruction of the Cascades, in the heart of the ranges and at The Dalles, the  eastern gatewa y The fur companies had trouble with the Indians at both these points in earliest times.  Now the Indians there were not so dangerous.  The obstructions were difficult to surmount at the Cascades, as all goods had to be transported by portage for five miles.

    

The first effort was to establish a supply depot at the Cascades and another at The Dalles, where a portage of many more miles was necessary@ but horses could be used, for it was in open country.  There was a mission of the Methodists at The Dalles.  The Indians there were a mixture of various tribes; the Cayuses were in the habit of visiting river points, and even made journeys to Western Oregon.  

The immigrants of 1847 had left hundreds of head of cattle to range there under the care of friendly Indians.  The first struggle of the campaign was when the earliest volunteers saw, on January 8th, a party of twenty-three of the natives, all well mounted, gathering up this immigrant stock.  Seventeen men went after them, some of them on foot, none well mounted.  

A running fight ensued, in which three of the Indians were killed and one wounded, while Sergeant William Berry was wounded.  The Indians got off with the cattle, shouting that they were all good Cayuses; one-third of them were of that tribe, the rest were men of other tribes, who were willing to take a hand in anything that promised spoil.  Among all the tribes were renegades, usually young men, who obeyed no chiefs and minded no treaties; such often made trouble when their people wished for peace.

    

The Deschutes chief, Siletza, who had refused to take art in this raid, after being robbed and threatened on that  account, was brought into camp to receive protection of the troops. The Cayuses claimed that they surrendered the captives to Mr. Ogden on condition that no war should follow and that the sending of troops east of the Cascades was an infringement of the agreement.  Of course, Mr. Ogden made no such pledge; he merely promised the influence of the Hudson's Bay Company to make the best terms for them in their power.

    

The troops in the field were commanded by Colonel Cornelius Gilliam, Lieutenant-Colonel James Waters, and Major H. A. G. Lee.  It was a work of difficulty to raise and equip these companies, and of toil and expense to transport them and their supplies past the Cascades

 and -The Dalles so they could mount their steeds to take the open field.  This, remember, was done in mid-winter, entailed great hardships and even more danger from the elements than from the enemy.  

A winter campaign was sure to be more serious to the Indians, because they were then in their winter camps, shut in by mountain snows, while summer opened all routes to them, as they could go to the mountains to live on game and the products of nature to be found there, so a winter campaign was attempted, with all its dangers and difficulties.

    

Colonel Gilliam was impulsive, even headstrong, but brave and desirous of doing right.  On the way up the river he heard of this first skirmish, near The Dalles, and hastened to the front.  Governor Abernathy hoped that a display of force would incline the hostiles to make terms of peace and surrender the murderers, so avoid a prolonged war.  Colonel Gilliam seems to have favored fighting it out to a finish and wait for no negotiations.  Either course may have been preferable to the uncertain policy pursued, for

the peace commission achieved few results and the army lost by waiting for them to negotiate.

This commission was composed of Joel Palmer, Robert Newell and Major H. A. G. Lee.  The two former the writer knew well and respected highly; General Palmer was commissary of the volunteer force, a man of cool courage and well-balanced mind.  Robert Newell was a mountain man of experience, used to Indian life and with considerable reading to educate his mind.  

Major Lee was probably the most forceful man engaged in prosecution of the war, as well as the most unpretending of its officers, for when later offered the command in chief, on the death of Colonel Gilliam, he declined to outrank Colonel Waters and served under him as a volunteer lieutenant-colonel to the end.

    

The peace commission had not sufficient opportunity to secure success, for while several of the Cayuse chiefs professed peaceful intentions and other tribes showed the same desire, affairs miscarried; their correspondence fell into the hands of the hostiles and matters became uncertain or complicated, as a result.  It simply became impossible to carry out the intention of the commission.  

Colonel Gilliam was rather a "fire eater," and his voice was all the time for war.  He was even supposed to favor levying contribution on the Hudson's Bay Company's base of supply at Vancouver to properly equip the troops; which led to correspondence between Governor Abernethy and Chief Factor Douglas that resulted in a good understanding.

    

Meantime, the people of Oregon discussed, very indignantly, the course of the Catholics and of the Hudson's Bay Company.  While the appearance of the Catholic priests near Whitman's mission no doubt caused trouble and complicated matters there is no proof that they did anything to cause the Cayuses to commit the massacre.  

It is a sad commentary on the religion of peace, on those who claim to be the disciples of Christ, the Prince of Peace, that different sects of Christians send missions to the heathen, each claiming to be true representatives of His teachings, yet righting each other in some instances more bitterly than they fight the Evil One for the Catholics usually arrogate to themselves the claim to be the only teachers of true religion, and of old found no excuse for the existence of other Christian creeds.  

Had any one of these missions been left to prosecute their work in peace and unchallenged, they could have done much good, but where this unholy rivalry occurred, the result was ever disastrous to the natives, who did not see how true religion could have such various and inharmonious interpreters.

    

The jealousy, in the popular mind of the Hudson's Bay Company was due in part that most of its employees were Catholics, and that its established policy and interests were to have the trade of the natives and preserve peace on every band.  The student of Oregon history must confess that this great company pursued a course that was generous in the extreme, both to the early missions and the pioneers; for the presence of the one encouraged the other, while the interest of the Hudson's Bay Company was to preserve the immense western territory in a state of nature in the possession of the native tribes.

    

About the last of January, 1848, Colonel Gilliam had one hundred and thirty of his men mounted and equipped at The Dalles, and with these marched east twenty miles to the Deschutes River, to punish the Indians who had driven off immigrant stock. Major Lee was sent forward to discover their village, but was seen by them, and they were moving their families and goods to the mountains when overtaken.  

Lee attacked; one Indian was killed and two women and some horses captured.  On his return he was ambushed in a deep ravine, by a force well armed and mounted, that drove him to seek shelter among rocks and river growths, where his men remained until night, the enemy rolling stones on their hiding places, but they suffered no loss.

The next day the whole force pursued and attacked, the enemy losing several killed, many horses and some cattle; they also captured  $1,400 worth of stolen property, found cached in the hills.  The

 village was destroyed, but the old people in it were spared.  The volunteers had one man wounded.  Skirmishing continued several days, the troops losing four men.  The hostiles were of two local tribes, with some Cayuses.  The Indians were dismayed to find that

the volunteers could yell much louder than they, so they became demoralized and fled.

Returning to The Dalles (Fort Lee) on the 12th of February, it was determined to send forward one hundred men, under Major Lee, with two peace commissioners.  The army now consisted of seven companies, aggregating five hundred and thirty-seven men. orders were issued to march on the 14th, to the disgust of the commission, who feared such haste would drive neutral tribes to become hostile.  The army was not under good discipline in some respects; many who had suffered from Indian encounters on the road across the plains felt willing to punish all of the race, and would, and did, occasionally pursue and kill those they met by the way.

There are always such men to complicate matters with Indians, who refuse to pardon in them acts they are guilty of themselves.  It is a question if these reckless men did not give the Indians along the river cause to assume hostility.

Meantime, the furnishing and transport of supplies was the great question.  The troops could fight their way to victory, but to secure clothing, food and ammunition was hardly possible.  Mr. Spaulding sent by a friendly Indian a letter to the Nez Perce's, that reached them-after falling into the bands of the enemy, and insured their neutrality, a result that was very important.

The troops proceeded to Willow Creek, half way to the Walla Walla, and were so demoralized as the result of hunger, thirst and hard marching, that Colonel Gilliam harangued them from a wagon bed, urging them to be true and loyal, and endure what was before them manfully.

Here a deputation of Dalles Indians overtook them and promised peace as result of their late experience.  A little such experience had wonderful effect on them, and they seem to have made no more trouble.  A delegation from the Yakima Indians came, with letters from the Catholic priests in charge of that mission, to say that the Yakimas had taken their advice and would not go to war.  Their country was north of The Dalles one hundred miles or so, and the Cayuses had sent to invite their alliance.

On the 24th of February the army started for the Umatilla.  About noon Indians were seen on the hills, making war signals, then they gathered from all directions in the path of the army and battle proceeded in the usual manner.  The warriors and their horsemen also avoided open warfare, and seeking cover stood their ground as they had chosen it. The volunteers marched steadily on throwing out lines

to protect the stock and wagon train.  A double quick charge where they were the strongest surprised the Cayuses and the yells of the soldiers terrified them.  

Pouring in one ineffectual volley, they withdrew in haste to a distant higher ground.  This was several times repeated, and each time they left their dead and wounded.  A remarkable duel is recorded, where Tom McKay, captain of the French company, killed Gray Eagle, and Lieutenant Charles McKay shattered the arm of Five Crows.  These chiefs rode out to boast of their prowess and infallibility and to challenge the McKays, and while the words were in their mouths they were shot down.

Tom McKay was a wonderful shot.  Gray Eagle seems to have had actual confidence in the infallibility of his person and immunity from danger, probably taking the assertion of his medicine man for his belief.  The two chiefs rode out to the front and dared the McKays to shoot at them.

Tom McKay fired at Gray Eagle offhand, without seeming to take aim, and the chief fell dead.  His people said the trouble was that McKay's medicine was too strong for Gray Eagle, but the death of their supposed immaculate champion was very discouraging to them.

The Cayuses had an idea they could defeat the Americans and had talked of making a raid into Western Oregon,, but the result of the battle left them defeated and inglorious.  The next day the troops, who bad camped without water, started early and were all day surrounded by hostiles- Some who were lookers on merely sent messengers to sue for peace, but the troops refused to have any talk until they should find water and a good camping place.

They reached the Umatilla   River at sunset, suffering intolerably from hunger and thirst.  The Indians were four miles away on the east side.  Crossing the river on the 26th, camp was made a mile nearer the hostiles.  Indians were numerous who made signs of hostility, while others did not.  When camp was made, Chief Stickas and others made overtures of peace.  

Stickas was really a good character-considered the most reliable of all the Cayuse converts.  While he seemed not to approve the massacre, be was a man of character and much respected the remainder of his life.  No proposition was entertained there, however, and the army proceeded on its way to Walla Walla.

February 28th, they encamped on the Walla Walla River, where the commissioners had an interview with Mr. McBean, of the Hudson's Bay Company's station at Fort Walla Walla, learning the position of the various.  Indian tribes.  The next day they were at the camp of Peu Peu Mox Mox, the chief of the Walla Wallas, who was friendly.  The

next camp was near the former Whitman mission.  They found the bodies of the dead unearthed by wolves, and they were reinterred.  

The scene of this massacre, the bleaching bones of the martyrs, the ruined homes and blighted hopes that all these represented, had the effect to exasperate good men and true, so they could hardly restrain themselves from wreaking vengeance on whoever was a Cayuse Indian.

The ruins that lay prone sufficed as material for a fortification; Colonel Gilliam was willing to make war on whoever willed it, many of the troops were on the point of insubordination; Newell was peace commissioner, because of his character as a lifelong friend of Indians, and knowing how to manage them, which Gilliam and the majority could not do, of course the two men could not agree.

About noon of the 6th, Craig and Gervais, two old mountaineers, came to say that two hundred and fifty friendly Nez Perce's and Cayuses were near at hand.  When they came to camp the troops gave them cheers, treated them hospitably, and on the seventh a council was held.  Joseph, a Nez Perce chief, opened with a peace address for the Cayuses present, as well as his own people.  It was pathetic in its appeal; he had taken his Nez Perce testament in his hand and came thus to meet the Americans, who, he had heard, came to kill him.  

Although his brother (Five Crows had a Nez Perce mother who was also his mother) was wounded, he did not wish his children to engage in this war.  Different ones spoke for peace and for surrendering the murderers.  Then General Palmer praised the Nez Perce's; said the Cayuses had forfeited their lands, but the Americans only wanted a road through at that time.  The Nez Perces were advised to return to their homes and their farms.

Others made friendly addresses; the Nez Perce's became friendly neutrals and the Cayuses were a divided people.

      

On the 11th the army left the peace commission behind, and with only the two hundred and sixty-eight men and officers remaining made a new march in search of the hostiles.  When they left The Dalles, the Indians along the Columbia were more or less allied with the Cayuses and took up arms with them.  These had enough of fighting and made no further trouble of consequence.  

The Cayuses were many of them satisfied with their experience to date.  The Walla Walla chief, Peu Peu Mox Mox, and his people were for peace and had never taken part in the contest or in the Whitman massacre.  South of the Columbia there were left only part of the Cayuses who were hostile, and some of their chiefs were now for

 peace.  It remained to be seen what this little band were to encounter next.

March 11th, Colonel Gilliam took up the line of march for the Cayuse camp, and they met three Indians bearing a flag of peace, who brought with them horses stolen from the troops since leaving The Dalles.  They said Stickas had taken Jo Lewis-the infamous half-breed who betrayed Whitman by his lies-intending to deliver him to Colonel Gilliam, but the hostiles had rescued him and seized much property which the faithful Stickas intended to surrender to the original owners.  

Colonel Gilliam disbelieved this story, so pushed forward, to be betrayed by the professed friendship of Tauitowe, a chief who had pretended peace all the time.  He asserted that Tamsucky and Tiloukaikt were gone, dividing the Cayuse force.  Gilliam marched to attack the remaining Cayuse camp and found only an old Indian, who assured him this was a friendly Walla Walla chief's camp, but that Tiloukaikt's stock were scattered over the hills for the Americans to take.  

There was a deep canyon intervening, and when they had toiled up the farther hill side, at great fatigue to men and horses, to reach the high plain, they saw their cattle swimming Snake River and escaping to the north, to the Palouse country.  Gilliam had been outwitted.  Collecting a few cattle and some hundreds of horses, they returned toward their camp.  

After going a mile they were attacked by four hundred Cayuse and Palouse warriors, for the ,Cayuses now had these others for allies, and the Palouses were numerous and warlike.  It was a day spent in

weary marching and fighting. They were obliged to camp on the upland, where there was neither wood nor water. There was no rest possible for the Indians kept up a constant fire.

The captured stock was again turned loose without any  advantage.  As soon as they were on the road the attack recommenced; summoning all their courage, they assumed the offensive and challenged the allies to assault.

A small detachment headed off the Indians from the Touchet, on which the camp was located, and saved the day.

Elsewhere the savages had built a fort the men bad to pass,

where several were wounded.  The Indians had four killed and fourteen wounded.  The women cried to them to cease the light, and they did not attempt to cross the Tolichet.  The whites were victorious, and their foes changed their war cry to the death wail; that is the saddest sound in all their vocal expression.

Thirty hours of constant strife left the volunteers willing to quit, so their victory was very welcome.  Of all the tribes, there were now only the Cayuses on the south of Snake River, and the Palouses on the north, who were on the warpath, but these were sure to be recruited by renegades from other tribes, who took part in whatever warfare promised spoil or could insure scalps.  

The Spokanes to the north were not known to be hostile; there Messrs.  Walker and Eells, colleagues of Whitman and Spaulding, were located and apprehension was felt concerning the fate of their

families and others.

The question now was as to the future of military operations, and what course to pursue to end the war satisfactorily.  A sad event at this time was the death of Colonel Gilliam, who was drawing a gun from a wagon when it was discharged, causing his instant death.  

This left Lieuten ant-Colonel Waters in command .  Major H. A. G. Lee was later commissioned as colonel, but served through as second

to Colonel Waters, as we have said.

So far the volunteers were victorious, yet their victory was not so assured that they could afford to quit the field.  They had done heroically, and not only those in the field, but the entire population bad done well and sacrificed much to have the war go on and the peace of their homes assured.

All had not been quiet at home, for there were some dissatisfied and unquiet members of the various Western tribes, who gave occasion for fears, so that apprehension was at times acute; but these episodes passed by and were not dangerous, though at times fearsome.  During the few weeks of the campaign numbers had decreased from various causes, and it became necessary to recruit the force, also to find means to meet current expenses.  The troops in the field needed clothes provisions, ammunition-needed everything.

Appeals were made for men and means.  The true women of the settlements organized societies to provide clothing, and the young women insisted that stalwart young men should go to the front and enlist, and those who would not fight in their defence should have no part in their good graces.  Wheat was subscribed, to be delivered below the falls of the Willamette, that had to be hauled to the river and boated down it, then make the portage at the falls and reach Vancouver to be marketable.  

Every possible means and source of credit was exhausted to insure the progress of the war.  Those who do not comprehend the isolation of a new wilderness and the difficulties of transportation at The Dalles and the Cascades can have no idea of the situation.

The work  of raising more troops went steadily on, and as fast as forwarded to The Dalles they were there organized under Colonel Lee.  It was May, 1848, before another movement was made; then the new companies took up the line of march for the seat of war.  Reaching Waiilatpu May 9th, Lee found that his claim to the colonelcy would cause trouble, so returned his commission and expressed his confidence in Lieutenant-Colonel Waters.  

The men, with almost unanimity, asked him to serve as lieutenant-colonel, which be cheerfully did.  The fact that more troops came from the Willamette, and further news that the mounted rifle regiment was to cross the plains, had wonderful effect toward peace with the Indians.

Lee made them understand that the country would be held until the murderers were given up and all the damage done and property stolen from emigrants paid for.  On May 17th four hundred men set out for the Clearwater,  in the Nez Perce country, in search of the murderers, but found none of them.  They succeeded in capturing a lot of stock belonging to Tiloukaikt, a hostile chief, in which the Nez Perce's assisted.  

Summer was now at hand, when every man was needed in the Willamette to harvest the ripening crops.  The campaign had cowed the murderous Cayuses and the appearance of the last four hundred showed that they had no security from the vengeance of the Americans.

This expedition soon returned to the Walla Walla River, for in summer the Cayuses could not possibly be followed. All the tribes saw that the Americans were not cowards and could take care of themselves, so the lesson taught was salutary.  The Palouses made overtures for peace and Peu Peu  Mox Mox had hung   a Cayuse Indian to the first tree who boasted in his presence that he was one of the murderers.

It was decided that a garrison of fifty men should remain at Waiilatpu until September 15th under Captain James Martin; and fifteen men were stationed at The Dalles, a promise being made that the country should be open for settlement and settlers in possession by the time stated, for the value of the rich Walla Walla region was apparent.

Returning to The Dalles, the volunteers crossed the Cascade range by the Mount Hood routes and after five months of toil and danger, often with actual suffering, found themselves again at home.  Never men better deserved the honors their countrymen bestowed on them and posterity yet accords them. -The history of our country has no parallel to this campaign in winter against such obstacles, and the self-sacrifice of a people who had so little to give and gave so much to insure the peace and safety of their homes and their loved ones!

About this time excitement arose when it became known that against the law of the provisional legislature Jesuit missionaries were sending more munitions of war into the Indian country than the volunteers had been able to acquire during the whole campaign.  This consisted of thirty-six guns, 1,500 pounds of balls, and 1,080 pounds of powder, while the volunteers had only obtained 500 pounds of powder.  

This material was seized and sent from The Dalles to the governor at Oregon City, and Rev.  Acolti was written to for an explanation; which was that this constituted the annual supply of the four Jesuit missions to the Flatheads Pend d'Oreilles, Coeur d'Alenes and Okanogans, who all lived by the chase.  

A certain amount, he said, was also needed by the whites who were connected with those missions.  In course of the next season this material was returned to Vancouver to their credit.

The laws of Oregon forbade sale of ammunition to Indians and the result was great hardship to them.  As time passed the United States Government sent General Joseph Lane as governor, also the rifle regiment came, and the Cayuses saw that they could not trifle with the rights of Americans.  General Lane, as well as the military, took steps to arrest the Whitman murderers, and at last five of them were surrendered, virtually pleading guilty.  

After trial they were executed-hung at Oregon City, June 3, 1850.  These were Tiloukaikt, Tamahas, Klokamas, Isaiachalakis and Kiamasumpkin.  Bishop Blanchet, in his history of Catholic missions, says they only came down to have a talk, but that does not accord with-the fact that some actually confessed, and all practically plead guilty to their crime and accepted their fate.  

They all died in the odor of sanctity, attended to the scaffold by Father Veynet, of the Catholic Church.  In Ms account of Catholic missions Right Rev.  Bishop Blanchet claims that they were innocent victims, who gave themselves to redeem their people-or to that effect.  Their father confessor exclaimed, as their fate was called for: "Onward! Onward to heaven! Children! Into Thy hands, Lord Jesus, I commend my spirit!"

      

Thus ended the Cayuse war,  and  its  results  were  eminently

satisfactory.

At the close of the campaign an escort was sent to Spokane to bring down the missionaries there-Revs.  Eells and Walker, and their families and employees-and all missions to the disaffected tribes were temporarily discontinued.

At both Lapwai, among the Nez Perces, and at Waiilatpu on the Walla Walla among the Cayuses there had been progress made by superior men among the Indians, some of whom had farms opened, and their children had the advantage of schools.  The effect is seen to-day in the

 intelligence of those who attended them.  

The after condition of these tribes belongs to history, and the object of my work is fulfilled in giving this brief story of the way the settlers of Oregon-two thousand miles from the nearest civilization and separated from it by winter snows and mountain barriers-carried the Cayuse war to a successful conclusion.

S. A. Clark, "The Cayuse War,"  Pioneer Days of Oregon History.  Cleveland, Ohio: Arthur H. Clark Company, 1905, p. 546-567.

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CAYUSE INDIAN WAR.

Terence O'Donnell, "The Cayuse Indian War,"  Idaho Yesterdays.  XXXI (Spring-Summer, 1987), p. 57-63.

A very different tone of voice can be applied to a discussion of quasi-military efforts to gain control of white Indian relations after the Whitmans'deaths.  The author is an historian on the staff of the Oregon Historical Society.

Snow had begun to fall; and so the s men left off their game of horse billiards, which was a kind of shuffleboard, and walked back to the small, green shuttered building by the waterfall that was the place of their assemblage.  The time was two o'clock on the afternoon of December 8, 1847.  The place was the Methodist meeting house in Oregon City and the men were the elected representatives of the Provisional Government of Oregon, now in session.

Stomping the snow from their feet, the men went into the little building, warmed themselves at the fire, and then sat down to business.  It was then, in that muffled silence which snow brings, that they heard the terrible news.  Dr. Marcus Whitman; his wife, Narcissa; and twelve of their associates had been murdered by the Cayuse Indians.  Fifty three other persons of the mission community, mainly women and children, were in captivity.

Looking back from the different circumstances of the present, it is difficult to imagine the thoughts and emotions of these men gathered in the little lamp-lit church on that darkening, snow-silent December afternoon.  Fear there surely was, sickening fear deep in the gut.  The Willamette Valley Indians might be debilitated and few in number; but east of the mountains, where the murders had occurred, there were large tribes of mounted warriors who were not in the least debilitated.  

This is what struck fear, well-founded fear-that these tribes would confederate and pour down through the mountain passes to flood the valley with the settlers' blood.

Then there was the outrage, almost as difficult for us to comprehend.  To the settlers the Indians were an inferior race, to be bettered, or banished or butchered; at any rate, inferior.  And thus the outrage, that a barbaric horde should wreak offense on a civilized community.

And here, perhaps, the outrage centered not so much on the murders, over and done with, the victims with their God in heaven, as with the fact that the captive white women were subject to the defilement of the savage redman's lascivious embrace.  This was the horror, this the fate that, as the nineteenth century put it, was a fate far worse than death.  So the rage and fear as the day darkened into night around the little church.

With morning came a vigorous resolve that took four forms: to rescue the captives; to punish the murderers; to prevent a coalition of the tribes; and finally to seek help from the United States.

The first step was a call for fifty volunteers under the command of the gallant H. A. G. Lee, who were to depart for The Dalles immediately to protect the property of the missionaries and immigrants and to establish a military base there at the gateway of the plateau and the region of the conflict.  

That afternoon forty-six -volunteers showed up at Moss's Main Street Hotel, where Judge James W. Nesmith presented Lee with a flag hastily sewn by the ladies of the town.  Then all proceeded in the rain to the riverbank, where the little force boarded a bateau, stuck the flag in the bow, and cast off to the cheers of the assembled. Thus the curtain rises on the first act of that five-part tragedy called the Indian wars of Oregon.

Lee and his stalwarts on their way, the next act of the provisional legislature was to make a normal call for a major volunteer force of 500 men to serve for ten months.  The prospects were poor.  Those first forty-six volunteers were mainly single men, newly arrived, game for the lark of battle.  Further recruitment, however, would depend mainly on the willingness of settled farmers to leave their families and their fields.  

The second problem was how to equip such a force, assuming it could be raised, since the treasury of the Provisional Government of Oregon contained at this time $43.72. In other words, those two basic requirements for any war, men and money, might well be hard to come by.

Nonetheless, by hook and by crook, a little army of 240 men was finally assembled under the command of Colonel Cornelius Gilliam-a veteran of the Black Hawk War, famed tracker of runaway slaves, hardshell Baptist preacher, and a man of whom it has been said that he preferred the smoke of gunpowder to that of the peace pipe.

 Also, the Provisional Government of Oregon had finally been obliged to go to the detested British at the Hudson's Bay Company's Fort Vancouver and there, dining on a very large platter of crow beg for money that in an unofficial manner the British gave them.

Thus then with this little army, and a bit of money for supplies, did the government hope to accomplish the first two of its objectives: to rescue the captives and punish the murderers.  Next on the agenda was the prevention of a coalition of the tribes.  With this in mind, two peace commissioners were appointed to travel with the army-Joel Palmer and Robert Newell, both estimable men, neither of them scalawags like a number of their associates.  

Finally, the colorfully persuasive Joe Meek was chosen to go to Washington and plead for help from his shirt tail relative President James K. Polk.

There were, however, problems with all of this.  Meek could not depart because it was the middle of winter.  So far as the army was concerned there were cross purposes, to say the least, for Gilliam wanted war whereas Palmer and Newell wanted peace.  Also, there was question whether sufficient supplies could be obtained, and if so, the horrendous problem of transport up the Columbia to the battlefield.  Finally, no one was very certain how long the soldiers would stay in the field and not desert.

Meanwhile what had happened to the captives and what were the Cayuse themselves about? On the morning of December 20 their chiefs assembled at the house of Bishop A. M. A. Blanchet on the Umatilla and there drew up a petition that the bishop promised to dispatch to Governor George Abernethy.  The petition began with a statement of the chiefs' conviction that the Whitmans intended to exterminate the Cayuse so that the whole of their lands might fall to the whites.  

Thus the massacre.  Next the chiefs proposed that the Americans forgive the murders as they, the Cayuse, had forgiven the Americans the murder of certain Indians; then that peace commissioners be sent, into whose hands they would commit the captives unharmed; and finally that Americans no longer travel in their country, since their young braves might do them harm.

Three days later that tough little Hudson's Bay trader Peter Skene Ogden arrived among the Cayuse.  Calling their chiefs a set of hermaphrodites for not having controlled their young men, he demanded the release of the captives and pledged a ransom in return.  

The Cayuse agreed.  On the morning of January 10, 1848, the cannon mounted on Portland's waterfront fired a salvo into the winter air.  It was a salute to the passing flotilla of huddled figures and the

 little man who stood in the bow of the lead boat-Peter Skene Ogden and the survivors of the Whitman massacre.  

Cannon were discharged again at Oregon City, where the survivors disembarked and fell into the arms of the waiting citizens.  What all had feared was found to be true; the women had been ravished.  The reaction to this can be gauged from an editorial that appeared in the Oregon City Oregon Spectator.

Let the Cayuse be pursued with unremitting hatred and hostility, until their life blood has atoned for their infamous deeds; let them be hunted as beasts of prey; let their name and race be blotted from the face of the earth, and the places that once knew them, know them no more forever.

In the eyes of the settlers, however, the Cayuse were not the only enemy.  The Hudson's Bay Company too was thought to have had a hand in the massacre, if not directly then by not warning the Whitmans of the Indians' hostility-a charge quite without foundation.  Nonetheless, the feeling against the British was so intense that at one point hot-blooded Colonel Gilliam threatened, with much support, to capture the fort and relieve the Company of its powder and shot.

Far more vicious was the conviction that Bishop Blanchet and his priests had directly encouraged the Cayuse to murder the Whitmans.  Henry Spalding, arriving in Oregon City with the survivors, was not at pains to discourage the notion.  In view of the intense hostility that existed between Protestant and Catholic in this period and place, when-as Frances Fuller Victor put it-"the average Christian was pledged in his own conscience to be a bigot,"' the simple presence of the priests in the Walla Walla country at the time of the massacre was ample evidence to most Protestants of the priests' complicity.  

Thus when Gilliam's volunteers finally started up the river, some were heard to say that their first shot would be for the bishop and his priests.  And by early January the army was finally on the move prepared to blot the Cayuse from the face of the earth, as the Spectator had put it.

Who were these Cayuse? Their homeland was the Walla Walla and Grande Ronde valleys.  They held their annual summer fairs, on the banks of the latter's looping river, where they gambled and wrestled, danced and raced on foot or on their little piebald ponies, fleet as hares.  

Almost all white commentaries, beginning with Alexander Ross in 1811, found the Cayuse striking in appearance: a beautifully proportioned people, sometimes standing six feet or more.  They were vain of their hair, wearing it in great poufs to either side of the head or down the back almost to the ground, and they loved to sparkle it with bits of mirror or of glass.  

In some instances the septum of the nose was pierced and from it hung a wolf's tooth.

They were vain of their clothes as well, shirts of fringed hide, sashed low on the hips, Fringed leggings, moccasins, all "richly garnished," as Ross said.  The women, who practiced head flattening, wore ankle-length garments of ornamented skin and little caps of willow twigs and had, according to John Townsend (writing in the 1830's), "a peculiarly sleepy and languishing appearance ... as if naturally inclined to lasciviousness";" he added that in fact they were not promiscuous.

Another object of adornment was their horses.  The Cayuse were above all a horse people, the herds of chiefs often in the thousands.  In particular, they valued white horses; to them they would attach feathered head pieces, streak their withers with dyes of different hues, and braid their tails with colored ribbons.  What a sight, these six-foot bedizened warriors on their equally bedizened

nounts.

As for their character, again almost all commentators agree that they did not steal and disdained trade, that in manner they were aloof, impatient of insult, above all proud.  The meaning of Cayuse in their own language meant "a superior people." They were.

So off to  war with them; Colonel Gilliam our commander.  Up the north bank of the Columbia to portage the supplies at the Cascades, then along the south bank to The Dalles.  It had been a cold trip, mid-January in the Columbia Gorge breasting currents, wind, and ice.  

They found poor Lee with only thirteen men left; the rest had deserted.

It was now, their first night at The Dalles, that the first casualty of the Cayuse War took place.  I will leave its description to Colonel Gilliam in a letter to his wife.

One of the guard shot a squaw in the thy (sic) thinking that she was an Indian man.  It appears that she was a-crawling along on the ground for an appointment between her and some of our young men, which I'm sorry to say such things frequently occur at this place.'

The first real battle of the war occurred a few days later at a place called Stagg Hollow, twenty miles up the east bank of the Deschutes.  Deschutes Indians had made off with some of the army's cattle, so Gilliam with 220 men had set off in pursuit, to get, as he wrote his wife, "as many horses and cattle as I can; likewise scalps."'

On the arrival of the troops the Indians skedaddled, the volunteers after them with shots and yells, lots of yells, curses, taunts, for

 in this war both sides were fortunately short of powder and so often resorted to what might be called verbal explosives.

At any rate, and finally, the Deschutes, as Gilliam wrote, "fled like wolves and scattered among the hills and canyon." Four whites were killed, and twenty to thirty Indians, a Deschutes village destroyed, some of the stolen cattle reclaimed, and what Gilliam called "a quantity of peas."'

With regard to the Indians killed it is difficult to know how accurate that figure is.  It can be gathered from reading the documents of the Oregon Indian wars that the Indians were often the better marksmen.

So the troops returned to The Dalles and to tragedy and problems.  A late-arriving volunteer, up to high jinks, pretended to be an Indian to tease the guard who shot him dead.  Now, already, they were seriously short of supplies -wheat in particular but also powder, shot, bridles, saddles, boots, sugar, tea, tobacco, nails, shirts, trousers, cloth for bandages, and finally paper on which to write out requests for all the articles just named.  

The other problem was Colonel Gilliam, as was so often to be the case.  He was anxious to be off for scalps.  His instructions were to wait for the peace commissioners, and since they had not arrived he was ready to leave without them.

Indeed, where were Palmer and Newell? The answer is simple; they were trying with the utmost difficulty to gather and transport supplies, for Palmer had been appointed quartermaster general as well as peace commissioner.' However, by February 3 Palmer and Newell were finally on their way, Palmer finding that the wheat they were bringing with them had been badly adulterated-the old game of profiteering side by side as always with the game of war.  

At the Cascades they were furious to find that Colonel Gilliam and his troops had left the cannon, all 1,500 pounds of it, for them to portage.  Somehow they did it, arriving at The Dalles on February 11.

The meeting between the peace commissioners and Colonel Gilliam was an uneasy one indeed, disagreeing as they did on aims, but finally Palmer and Newell convinced Gilliam that the commissioners should proceed ahead into the upper country with flags of peace and only a small escort, the body of the army to stay behind.  The following day, however, the colonel withdrew his agreement and ordered the army to march en masse, a show of force that would hardly convince the Indians of the peaceful intentions of the whites.  

After all, the official policy at this time was not really war but simply to prevent a coalition of the tribes and to take the

 murderers themselves into custody.  But Gilliam was determined to march and get his scalps, although his troops were hardly in condition to do so.

For one thing, discipline had quite broken down-not that there was much in the beginning.  Captain L. N. English shot an Indian, just for diversion it appeared, "a shameful thing" said Robert Newell.' Also, the m(,n were breaking into the belongings the immigrants had stored at The Dalles until they could get them in the spring.  Gilliam could not control them: after all, these men had not come to Oregon to be ordered about by anyone.  One volunteer threw in the sponge and demoted himself from sergeant to private because as sergeant he got nothing but abuse.

Then, too, almost none of the men were trained- Most, it is true, had probably served in their local militias back in the States.  But those militia meetings once or twice a year soon gave up drill for wrestling, getting drunk, playing pranks, competing in violent games.

Finally, and to complicate everything, the volunteers, as soldiers seem to do, found some booze: one part alcohol, three parts water, and then for color and flavor a little tobacco or tea, a bit of red pepper, some ginger and black molasses and who knows what else.  It was the winter in the booze that caused the real trouble.  It was bad, so the tipplers came down with dysentery.  What a mess; this undersupplied, untrained, disorderly, drunken, sick army that could not seem to decide whether it wanted war or peace.  And in the midst of all this, word came that the tribes of the upper Columbia had gone to join the Cayuse.

They started out following the immigrant trail from The Dalles: first Five Mile Creek, then the Deschutes, then the John Day.  At Willow Creek, where they camped about fifteen miles south of present-day Heppner Junction, it looked as if Gilliam had mutiny on hi.,; hands.  One of his mell's complaints was the dearth of Indians.  Whatever the official policy might have been, the volunteers had come for so:,ne sport.  They were to have the following day at a place called Sand Hollow.

Sand Hollow is ten miles south of modern Interstate 84, near present-day Alpine.  It is a place of rugged cuts and washes, hills several hundred feet high bordering ii; on the east.  This was the territory of the Cayuse chief called Five Crows, an interesting and appealing figure.  It must have been a curious sight, the (by now) 400 mounted men, some wagons "borrowed" from the immigrants, the cannon, and, riding ahead of all, the peace commissioners with their white flags.  An army riding out to war, led by men carrying the white flags of peace.

Suddenly they saw the Indians, streaming down the hills to the east.  Palmer and Newell galloped toward them, raising their white flags high, but the Indians motioned them back.  Peace had failed as it so often does, and the battle began.

The sides were roughly equal except that about 100 of the Indians were women into whose hands the volunteers prayed they would not fall.  The whites quickly formed a circle, cattle and supplies in the middle.  The Cayuse in turn formed a circle around the whites, taunting them.  

They would kill them all, they cried, and then go to the Willamette and take their women and their land, and to show their contempt for the whites they first shot a dog.  Then Five Crows and Grey Eagle, assured by a medicine man that they were inviolate, rode right up to Tom and Charles McKay.  Tom killed Grey Eagle outright, Charles shattered Five Crows' arm.  Now, too, the cannon was finally fired.  It hit nothing, but its noise scared the daylights out of everyone.  

Finally, after three hours of battle, the Cayuse retired to the hills, leaving perhaps six volunteers wounded, eight Indians killed.  It is difficult to determine the accuracy of these figures.

It is not difficult, however, to determine that this was the pivotal battle of the Cayuse War for the neutrals.  The Nez Perce, the Walla Walla, portions of the Cayuse, and others were waiting to see who would win or, in other words, which side to join.  That night two half-breed Cayuse, the Findley brothers, defected and came in to talk of peace.

The next day the army marched on, camping the night on the Umatilla, of whose waters the Cayuse had vowed the whites would never drink.  The day after, they arrived at the devastated mission to be stunned by the scene it presented: the unearthed bodies, chawed by the wolves, strewn in pieces everywhere; Narcissa's head, a tomahawk buried in it.  They cut off a lock of her hair for Joe Meek to take to Polk, for now in March the weather was beginning to turn and Meek was ready to depart.

This scene at the mission did not prompt pacific feelings in the breast of Colonel Gilliam.  Palmer and Newell, on the other hand, were heartened by the fact that more and more Nez Perce and Cayuse had come in seeking peace.  A council was called, but Gilliam stomped out.  He had come to fight and fight he would.  Shortly after this, however, William Craig -married to a Nez Perce -arrived to say that 250 Nez Perce and Cayuse were coming in to parley for peace.  

With such numbers Gilliam had no alternative but to listen.  Very soon thereafter the Indians rode in with much pomp and circumstance, rearing and whirling their horses, both braves and horses gorgeously

 attired, and the volunteers cheered and saluted them.

And so the peace council began.  The participants were Yellow Serpent of the Walla Walla, eleven Nez Perce chiefs, and one Cayuse, Camaspelo.  They were given Governor Abernethy's message, which demanded that they give up the murderers and return all stolen goods.  Abernethy's message is in general a document of gentleness, even tenderness, and ends with this moving question: "Will you let us be brothers or will you throw us away."'

Newell, too, spoke to the chiefs with gentleness.  "My friends , he said, "I am not angry.  I am sorry.""' Palmer, on the other hand, was stern in manner though moderate and fair in what he had to say.

In reply, the Cayuse chief stated that he had not consented to the murder of the Whitmans and would not protect the murderers.  Joseph, speaking for the Nez Perce, pledged that they would not affiliate with those Cayuse who were still disaffected.

By and large, the peace commissioners were pleased with the council, for it had achieved their principal purpose: to prevent a coalition of the tribes of the Columbia plateau.  That night the assembled Indians entertained the peace commissioners with a war dance.  It was, according to Palmer, first rate.  A few days later Palmer and Newell returned to Oregon City.

However, the murderers had still not been handed over.  Gilliam continued the war against those Cayuse still disaffected and pursued them to Starbuck, where the Tucannon joins the Snake.  Here he found that they had already fled across the Snake to safety.  Making the best of a bad job, the volunteers rounded up what they thought were Cayuse cattle left behind.  In fact, the cattle belonged to the Palouse-who, enraged, drove the volunteers all the way back to the Touchet River, regaining their cattle, inflicting serious casualties.

Whipped and very, very short of food, the troops returned to the mission, where it was decided that Gilliam and half the force should go l@o The Dalles for the desperately needed supplies.  On route back, the morning of March 20, camping on the Umatilla, Colonel Gilliam, removing his gun from the back of a wagon, shot, himself dead.  

That really was the end of the Cayuse Indian war.  Of course, summer now was on its way and soon the wheat would head and the corn would silk and these farmer soldiers wanted their fields and their women.  The war continued in only the most sporadic and half-hearted way, with no appreciable results in the field.

It, did, however, have its sad epilogue.  Despite the peace commissioners' promise to the Cayuse that the whites wanted not their land but only the murderers, their land was in fact confiscated and opened to white settlement only a few months after the promise was given.  It is a tragedy almost Greek in it nature and dimensions.  

Frances Fuller Victor put it well: "The very thing was about to happen which the Cayuse had killed the Whitmans to prevent, namely, the settlement of their lands by whites."" And so the terrible malediction of the Oregon Spectator had come to pass.  Let the places that once knew them, know them no more forever.

There is a final tragic note.  

In the spring of 1851 two years following the war, the alleged five murderers of the Whitmans were hung at Oregon City; but to this day no one is certain if they in fact were the guilty ones or if instead these five Cayuse had sacrificed themselves so that their tribe might finally find peace.

In this is an account rather than an interpretation of this first act in the tragedy of the Oregon Indian wars.  Even to give a simple account of what happened is hard enough; to hazard an interpretation is trickier yet.  Still, four assertions can be made regarding the significance of the Cayuse War-the first three fairly certain, the fourth indubitably so.  Indian-white relations,   British-American relations, Protestant-Catholic relations-all were poisoned even more.  And finally, in this war as in all others there was only one victor, and that was death.

Terence O'Donnell, "The Cayuse Indian War,"  Idaho Yesterdays.  XXXI (Spring-Summer, 1987) p. 57-63.

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THE CAYUSE INDIAN WAR.

Charles H. Carey, "The Cayuse Indian War,"  General History of Oregon through early statehood.  Portland, Oregon: Binfords and Mort, 1971, p. 522-544.

The earliest missionaries, arriving in Oregon in 1834 and thereafter increasing in numbers, and the first of the settlers who followed in their train, presented an issue to the natives in a new aspect.  The coming of the settlers had been preceded by reports not flattering to Americans.  Intercourse between the tribes east and west of the Mississippi river had long been established, and as a result those of the west were made aware of the dissatisfaction arising out of the seizure by the whites of the lands of the eastern tribes.  

By its treatment of the Choctaws, the Delawares, the Sacs and Foxes, the Wyandottes, the Chickasaws, the Kickapoos and the Osages, the federal government had prepared the way for discord between whites and Indians.

Already there were charges of bad faith in execution of treaties, of exchanges of bad lands for good, of delays in performance.  Reports of these had been widely circulated, and were generally credited by the Oregon natives prior to the massacre at Waiilatpu, in November, 1847.  Unfortunately, too, a number of incidents occurred during this period that increased distrust.  

It is doubtful whether at any time the missionaries really understood the Indians, and it is certain that some others of the superior race made no effort to do so.  An encounter at Willamette falls, 1844, in which an Indian named Cockstock and others were killed, furnishes an example.

The Cockstock affair was the outgrowth of a private dispute between two negro settlers, Winslow Anderson and James D. Saules, and a Wasco Indian named Cockstock, who had been hired by Anderson to perform labor on a land claim, in payment for which he was to have received a horse.  Before the completion of the contract Anderson sold the land claim and also the horse to Saules, who refused to deliver the animal to Cockstock.

The latter then appropriated the horse; the negroes appealed to Dr. Elijah White and he compelled Cockstock to surrender it.  Cockstock threatened all concerned with violence, and White offered a reward of $100 for Cockstock's arrest.  March 4, 1844, Cockstock and four Molalla Indians rode into Willamette falls, armed, and, in an attempt to arrest them, George W. LeBreton, clerk and recorder of the provisional government, a highly esteemed citizen, received a fatal gunshot wound and a man named Rogers was wounded by a poisoned arrow, dying on the following day.  Winslow Anderson, going to the rescue of LeBreton, dispatched Cockstock by breaking his skull with the barrel of his rifle.

The incident created great excitement in the Willamette valley and resulted in the organization of the mounted rifle company known as the Oregon Rangers, of which T. D. Keysur was captain, the officers being duly commissioned by the executive committee of the provisional government.  This constituted the first military force authorized in the Oregon Country.  The company, however, was never called into action.  

The Wasco Indians were much agitated by the killing of their fellow tribesman, and they believed that Cockstock had not gone to Willamette falls on a hostile errand.  Doctor White visited them and pacified them by compensating Cockstock's widow.  White's own account of the adjustment of this difficulty is: "I told them we had lost two valuable innocent men; and should our people learn

 that I had given them presents, without their giving me two blankets for one, they must expect nothing but the hottest displeasure from the whites.  

After much deliberation among themselves, they with one voice concluded to leave the whole matter to my discretion.  I at once decided to give the poor Indian widow two blankets, a dress and a handkerchief, believing the moral influence to be better than to make presents to the chief or tribe and receive nothing at their hands.... it is to be hoped that the matter will here end, though that is by no means certain, as at present there are so many sources of uneasiness and discontent between the parties."

In the earliest Indian wars the pioneer settlers volunteered, and

the campaigns were chiefly, although not wholly, carried on by them.  These included the Cayuse war of 1847-8, the Rogue river wars ranging through the years between 1853 and 1858, and the Yakima war of 1855-6.  The later wars, however, were largely in the management of government forces, on the side of the white men.  They covered the eastern Oregon conflicts of 1865-6, the Modoc war of 1872-3, the war with the Nez Perce's, in 1877, and the war with the Bannocks, in 1878.

After Doctor White's appointment as sub-Indian agent, he had compiled a code of laws for the Nez Perce's.  This was because of a rumor that an alliance had been formed, in the autumn of 1842, by the Walla Wallas, Cayuses and Nez Perce's for aggression against the missionary stations in the interior, and against the Willamette valley settlements.  

November, 1842, he obtained the services of Thomas McKay, Cornelius Rogers and Baptiste Dorion, the latter the son of Wilson Price Hunt's interpreter, Pierre Dorion; and with these and a small armed party, which was joined at Fort Walla Walla by Archibald McKinlay, the Hudson's Bay Company chief trader there, he travelled directly to the Nez Perce's country.  Here he called a council of the principal chiefs, to whom he gave assurances of the kind intentions of the United States government, "and the sad consequences that would ensue to any white men, from this time, who should invade their rights, by stealing, murder, selling them damaged for good articles, or alcohol, of which they are not fond."

Doctor White was peculiarly fortunate on this occasion in his choice of companions.  McKay, the half-breed son of one of the partners in the Astor company, lost on the ship Tonquin, and McKinlay, representing the Hudson's Bay Company among the tribes, were in themselves a guarantee of success of his mission.  But, in assuring the natives of the "sad consequences which would ensue to any white man who should invade their rights," the subagent was not only promising more than he could perform, but was preparing the way for subsequent accusations on the part of the Indians that

 the whites wished to have one set of laws for the natives and another for themselves.  

When, for example, in 1845, Elijah Hedding, a young Walla Walla chieftain, son of Peu-peumox-mox, head chief of the Walla Wallas, was wantonly slain by miners at Fort Sutter, California, the occurrence created in the minds of the natives throughout the west an impression unfavorable to the whites. ,The slayers of the son of Peu-peu-mox-mox were never hanged," was a rallying cry of the, disaffected members of the tribes in the CaYuse war of 1848, and in subsequent Indian wars.

Doctor White reversed the time-honored Policy of Hudson's Bay Company by bringing about the election of one Ellis as chief of the Nez Perce's and the appointment of twelve sub-chiefs.  Hudson's Bay officers, on the contrary, knowing Indian character, had consistently avoided becoming involved in tribal Polities.  

Furthermore, Doctor White conceived the idea that Indians should organize a more compact tribal government, not considering the effect on their future relations with the white men.  His conference with the Nez Perce's was a Picturesque and -noteworthy incident in early American endeavors to bring about an understanding between aborigines and the people who were destined to succeed them in the possession of the territory.

Twenty-two chiefs, besides a large number of lesser tribal dignitaries, were present at the conference.  The white visitors made speeches first, while the Indians maintained a profound, respectful and inquisitive silence.  Five Crows, "a wealthy chief of 45, neatly attired in English costume," spoke.  

"I am glad," he said, "the chief has come.  I have listened to what has been said; I have great hopes that brighter days -are before us, because I see all the whites are united in this matter; we have much wanted something; hardly know what; been groping and feeling for it in Confusion and darkness.  Here it is.  Do we see it and shall we accept?"

Bloody Chief, more than 90 years old, who had been high chief of the tribe at the time of the visit of Lewis and Clark, told the council how he h-ad proudly shown the explorers the wounds he had received in battle with the neighboring Snakes, his hereditary foes, but had been told "it was not good, it was better to be at peace."

Doctor White's own account represents Bloody Chief as saying: "Clark pointed to this day, to you, and to this occasion; we have long waited in expectation; sent three of our sons to Red River school to prepare for it; two of them sleep with their fathers; the other is here and can be ears, mouth and pen for us.  I

can say no more."

Six other Indian leaders spoke.  Doctor White then proposed to the Nez Perce's that they select a single high chief, with 12 subordinate chiefs of equal power, each of whom should have five men as a body guard, to execute his lawful commands.  White read his code of laws to them.  "They were greatly pleased with all proposed," White relates in his journal, "but wished a heavier penalty to some, and suggested the dog law, which was annexed."

There were further councils, accompanied by much feasting, Doctor White furnishing a fat ox for the barbecue, and Ellis, the young man to whom Bloody Chief had alluded and who had been put forward by White, was elected high chief.  The selection afterward proved a mischievous one, since Ellis' natural virtues were not improved by his Red River education.  

He became domineering and arrogant, and attempted to enforce the new code with great literalness and undue severity.  It will be borne in mind in considering the effect of Doctor White's laws upon the Indians that they made criminal offenses of acts which before that time had meant to the native mind no breach of law or morals.

White's laws are noteworthy as the first attempt made by whites west of the Rocky mountains to teach the Indians to govern themselves according to alien standards.  White sets them forth as follows:

      

"Art. 1. Whoever wilfully takes life shall be hung.  

"Art. 2. Whoever burns a dwelling shall be hung.  

"Art. 3. Whoever burns an outbuilding shall be imprisoned six months, receive fifty lashes, and pay all damages.

      

"Art. 4. Whoever carelessly burns a house, or other property, shall pay damages.

      

"Art. 5. If any one enter a dwelling, without permission of the occupant, the chiefs shall punish him as they think proper.  Public rooms are excepted.

      

"Art. 6. If any one steal, he shall pay back two-fold; and if it be the value of a beaver skin or less, he shall receive twenty-five lashes; and if the value is over a beaver skin he shall pay back two-fold, and receive fifty lashes.

      

"Art. 7. If any one take a horse and ride it, without permission, or take any article and use it, without liberty, he shall pay f or the use of it and receive from twenty to fifty lashes, as the

 chief may direct.

      

"Art. 8. If any one enter a field and injure the crops, or

throw down the fence, so that cattle and horses go in and do damage, he shall pay all damages, and receive twenty-five

lashes for every offense.

      

"Art. 9. Those only may keep dogs who travel or live among the game; if a dog kill a lamb, calf, or any domestic animal, the owner shall pay damage and kill the dog.

      

"Art. 10.  If an Indian raise a gun or other weapon against a white man, it shall be reported to the chiefs and they shall punish it.  If a white do the same to an Indian, it shall be reported to Doctor White, and he shall punish or redress it.

      

"Art. 11.  If an Indian break these laws, he shall be punished by his chiefs; if a white man break them, he shall be reported to the agent, and punished at his instance."

The Cayuses in the vicinity of Doctor Whitman's mission meanwhile were becoming restive.  They were on the line of the Oregon trail, in the path of immigration, of which Doctor White's own party had been the first important forerunner.  But this tribe had heard that the custom of the whites was always to possess themselves of the Indians' lands, usually in ruthless disregard of Indian rights.  

Doctor White made an unsuccessful attempt to allay their misgivings as to this, but the Cayuses were manifestly suspicious, at a council called by him at WaiilatPu.  Tau-i-tau, a Walla Walla chieftain, argued eloquently that the whites were much more to blame than the Indians; that three-fourths of them, though they taught the purest doctrines, practiced the greatest abominations.  He gave a graphic account of his vain endeavor to reduce his own tribe to order, by flogging the young men and reproving the middle--aged, until his popularity had declined almost to zero.

White made small headway here.  He returned to the Walla Walla valley, however, May, 1843, in response to a rumor that the tribes contemplated an attack on the expected immigrant train of that year.  He w-as then accompanied by the Rev.  Gustavus Hines, and learned that apprehension concerning the coming of large bodies of settlers was the chief cause of the Indians' disquietude.  The young Cayuse chiefs were in favor of raising a large war party at once, marching on the Willamette settlements and cutting off the inhabitants at a swift, sharp blow.  

The older chiefs pointed out the difficulty of conducting an expedition across the snow covered Cascades, and advised caution.  Nevertheless the tribe was deeply imbued with the feeling that their lands were to be taken from them.  They told White's

 interpreter that they had received their information concerning the designs of the American from a half-breed, who had said that it would be useless for them to continue to cultivate their grounds, that the whites would come in the summer -and kill them all off, and destroy their plantations.

The Cayuses were less tractable than the Nez Perce's had been.  At another council, held May 23, 1843, they repeatedly reminded the American envoys that promises made to them by the whites had not been kept.  Ellis, and a young chief named Lawyer, of the Nez Perce's, who had been called to meet with the other tribes, reminded Doctor White that they expected pay for being chiefs.  

Ellis said he had counted the months he had been in office, and thought that enough was due him to make him rich.  They left at a late hour, without receiving satisfaction.  One of the difficulties for the commissioners to settle was the matter of payment for some horses the Indians had given Rev.  Jason Lee, when Lee first came to Oregon, in 1834.  

This old claim was adjusted by promise to give the Indians a cow for each horse.  On the third day, the Cayuses elected Tau-i-tau chief, but he declined to serve because, being a Catholic, the majority of his tribe were of a different religion, and his brother, Five Crows, was elected in his place.  

Doctor White presented the Indians with a fat ox, and Mrs. Whitman gave them a hog, on which they feasted during the second day.  On the third day the Indians demanded and received a second ox.

This great council was attended, according to the estimate of Rev.  Gustavus Hines, who was present, by 600 Nez Perce's, and 300 Cayuses and Walla Wallas.  Doctor White got them to agree. to accept his laws, but they did not manifest much enthusiasm.  The increasing influence of the Catholic missionaries, which was shown on this occasion, had no immediate bearing on the issue of peace or war, but operated as a cause of factionalism among the Indians themselves.

News of the Whitman massacre, November 29, 1847, was received at Willamette falls, seat of the provisional government, December 8, 1847, in a letter from James Douglas, chief factor at Vancouver, to Governor Abernethy.  The governor at once communicated it to the legislature, then in session, and issued a call for volunteers.  

Excitement spread rapidly through the valley, and a company was organized on the same day with a view to proceeding to The Dalles and guarding against passage of the hostiles down river to attack the settlements.  Henry A. G. Lee, one of the conspicuous members of the immigration of 1843, was elected captain, and Joseph Magone and John E. Ross, lieutenants.  

This company, known as the Oregon Rifles, and consisting of 48 men, lost no time in obtaining such equipment as could be procured on the individual credit of citizens of the territory, and departed immediately for The Dalles, reaching there, December 21.

The provisional legislature, meanwhile, December 9, 1847, authorized the raising of a regiment of volunteers, -and named its field officers.  Cornelius Gilliam, an immigrant of 1844, was colonel; James Waters was lieutenant-colonel; H. A. G. Lee, major, and Joel Palmer, commissary-general.  All of these were men of ability and well qualified for duty.  

The men of the territory responded promptly, many furnishing their entire equipment.  An interesting phase of the recruiting was the raising of a company by the French Canadians, who, as a group, had held aloof from the organization of the provisional government.  

These held a meeting at French Prairie as soon as the governor's proclamation became known, and they adopted resolutions declaring that "the Canadian citizens of Champoeg county feel it their duty to assist their adopted country in the prosecution of the war against the Cayuse Indians for the horrible massacre committed by them upon American citizens at Waiilatpu."

All the commissioned officers of this company were named McKay.  Capt.  Thomas McKay was the son of Alexander McKay, the Astor partner lost on the Tonquin, 1811.  Charles McKay was first lieutenant, and Alex McKay, second lieutenant.  An American flag was presented to the company.  In accepting it, Captain McKay said: "This is the flag you are expected to defend, and defend it you must." The company performed conspicuous service in the brief war that followed.

As the result of this prompt response to the governor's call for volunteers, Colonel Gilliam was able to reach The Dalles late

in January, 1848, with 50 men, the remainder of his regiment arriving a few days afterward.  It was not then known how widespread the disaffection of the Indians had become, and so the legislature, taking a second thought, designated a peace commission consisting of Joel Palmer, Maj.  H. A. G. Lee and Robert Newell, to treat with the eastern tribes, and if possible to forestall a general uprising.

As was stated, at page 359, the legislature dispatched Joseph L.  Meek to Washington, with a memorial asking the national government for help, and it also sent Jesse Applegate with a party of volunteers to obtain aid from the military governor of California.  Applegate was unable to cross through the deep snows of the Siskiyous and returned north, his dispatches being forwarded by sea.  

Meek's long trip across the continent was fruitless.  The settlers

 in the Willamette valley, therefore, were compelled to carry on the war without help from any outside sources.

Meek was accompanied on his arduous overland expedition by George W. Ebbert, a former trapper and Hudson's Bay man, who had settled on a farm at Champoeg.  They left the Willamette valley, January 4, 1848.  After waiting at The Dalles until the close of the month, they went in company with Colonel Gilliam's regiment to Waiilatpu.  

Here the bodies of the victims of the massacre were reburied, and Meek performed this duty with the body of his own daughter, who had been in Mrs. Whitman's school.  Meek and Ebbert were accompanied by troops to the Blue mountains, from which locality they departed accompanied by five other Americans who desired to return to the states, although two of these went no further than Fort Boise.

Colonel Gilliam began by vigorously carrying the war into the enemy's country.  He established a supply station at the Cascades, which was named Fort Gilliam.  A stockade erected at The Dalles was named Fort Lee, and here a nine-pounder cannon, the only piece of artillery possessed by the provisional government, was mounted.  Lee's company had several skirmishes with the Indians before Gilliam reached him with reinforcements.  

The first provisional soldier wounded was Sergeant William Berry; those first killed were Privates Pugh and Jackson.  These casualties were incurred in repelling raids by the Indians on the cattle of immigrants and the horses of the rangers.  One other soldier, Private Alexander McDonald, was killed by a sentry who mistook him for an Indian.  Four or five of the natives were killed and several were wounded.

Colonel Gilliam, the last week in January, 1848, a few days after the arrival of his first detachment, set out with 130 men in hot pursuit of the hostiles, who proved to be members of the Des Chutes, John Day and Cayuse tribes.  Dispersing several war parties on the way to Meek's crossing, at the mouth of a canyon into which he sent Major Lee with a detachment, on a reconnaissance, Lee's men found the Indians, and killed one.  

Gilliam with the main body pressed forward, engaged the enemy, captured a number of their horses and some cattle, which resulted later in a treaty of peace with these tribes.  The engagement in the canyon was a severe test of the mettle of the raw troops, but being frontiersmen and familiar with the Indian method of warfare, they stood the test well.  

Lee's little detachment of skirmishers, in particular, was forced to dismount and seek cover among boulders, while a superior force of pursuing Indians rolled stones down on them from the cliffs above.  The main body of Gilliam's troops in the second day's fighting destroyed an Indian village, but spared the old people

 they found there.

Word came from the Yakimas that they would not join the hostiles, since the whites did not pass through their country and they had no quarrel with them, but the peace commissioners were unable to obtain assurances of pacific intentions from other tribes, and Colonel Gilliam took up the march to Waiilatpu.  

On the way, a battle was fought at Sand Hollow, on the immigrant trail, which was of considerable importance because it resulted in the killing of Gray Eagle, one of the Cayuse chiefs, and the wounding of Five Crows, head chief elected on the occasion of Dr. Elijah White's visit, 1843.  These chiefs, both of whom laid claim to supernatural powers, had attempted a demonstration of their invulnerability by riding close to the troops and shooting a dog.  

Capt.  Thomas McKay, of the company raised in the French Canadian settlement, shot Gray Eagle through the head, and Lieut.

Charles McKay of the company wounded Five Crows with a shotgun so severely that the chief was forced to give up his command.

This proof that their leaders were but mortal and that the volunteers were in deadly earnest, measurably chilled the ardor of the Cayuses.  The battle declined to a skirmish and the soldiers were not seriously hampered in continuing their march to Waiilatpu.  They crossed the Umatilla river, despite the boast made by the Cayuse chiefs to their followers that this would be prevented, and reached the Whitman mission, March 2.

The spectacle at the mission grounds, where some of the bodies of the victims had been exhumed by wolves, and the scene of general desolation, steeled the hearts of the soldiers and almost led to an open breach between the military forces and the peace commissioners.

The latter had been dispatched on their errand of diplomacy in the hope that a general war might be averted by a policy of leniency toward the friendly Indians.  Their design w-as to inform the tribes that if the murderers of the Whitman party were surrendered for punishment no further demands would be made.  Newell had been chosen as a member of the commission because of his experience as a mountain man, and his sympathy with the Indian point of view.  

Palmer also had been known to entertain sentiments of moderation in treating with the tribes.  Colonel Gilliam chafed under restraint of his implied obligation to the peace commissioners, and because of scarcity of supplies, which were obviously insufficient for a protracted campaign.

He began at once the construction of a rude fort out of the debris

 of the ruined mission houses.  He received overtures from Peu-peu-mox-mox, of the Walla Wallas, and from a few friendly Nez Perce's, but was unable to obtain guarantees from them that the principal conspirators of the murder would be surrendered.  Gilliam proposed to grant immunity to five of the murderers in exchange for Joe Lewis, the renegade who was believed to have incited the massacre, but the peace commissioners would not assent to this.  

A large party of friendly Nez Perce's and Cayuses, however, approached the camp, March 6, 1848, and were acclaimed by the soldiers.  A council was held, March 7, in another effort to preserve the peace, but without important results.

Colonel Gilliam, therefore, was restrained from forcing the fighting, at least until the commission had further opportunity to test the value of pacific measures.  Although he mistrusted the motives of the Indians, and suspected them of design to gain time to prepare for further hostilities, he waited for the council.  

The peace commissioners were acting under specific instructions from Governor Abernethy to avoid war if possible, while exercising the utmost firmness "consistent with the honor of American citizens." Abernethy wrote that there were "some requisitions that must be complied with on the part of the Indians." All the murderers must be delivered up for punishment; "the property taken delivered up or -an equivalent given, and restitution made of the property stolen last year."

The governor continued: "I am aware the greatest difficulty will be in obtaining the persons of the murderers, but the Indians must be given to understand in the commencement of negotiations that this must be done; and that no compromise can be made.  There may be some wrong those that are implicated in this affair around whom some palliating circumstances may be thrown; these you will take into consideration; but the principal actors should be executed in the presence of the tribes....

"You will hold a council with the field officers of the army, and decide in council what steps shall be taken to accomplish the much-desired object, restoration of peace.  You will use every exertion to have the property and lives of our fellow citizens that may be hereafter travelling through the Indian territory preserved; the chiefs are able to govern their own people."

The Cayuses were represented by the war chief Camaspello, whose sick child had been visited by Doctor Whitman only a  short time before the massacre, and who had not warned the doctor of the conspiracy.  Among the leaders of the Nez Perce's present were Joseph, their head chief in the absence of Ellis on a buffalo hunt; Jacob, half-brother of the Cayuse, Five Crows; James, a Catholic; Richard, who had accompanied Doctor Whitman on the

 latter's return to the United States, 1835; and Kentuck, who had been Rev.  Samuel Parker's guide in Idaho, 1835.  Peu-peu-mox-mox, head chief of the Walla Wallas, represented his tribe.  Palmer found Peu-peu-mox-mox "decidedly friendly and withal prudent and sensible."

A letter from Governor Abernethy, addressed to "the Great Chiefs of the Nez Perce's and other Tribes," was brought forth and the seal broken with solemn ceremony, "after the pipe of friendship had been passed around till our hearts were all good and our eyes watery," as Palmer afterward wrote.  

Abernethy reminded the Indians that the early American missionaries had gone to dwell among them and instruct them at their own request, that Doctor and Mrs. Whitman had been actuated only by good motives, and that the stories the Indians had heard, that Doctor Whitman had poisoned them, were not true.  "Brothers," Abernethy's letter continued, "our warriors are on the warpath; what shall be done that we may all again be friends, and not enemies?

"I will tell you what we want; listen to me; we want the men that murdered our brother, Doctor Whitman, and the rest of our brothers-Tiloquoit, Tamsukie and all that were engaged ... and further that restitution of the property stolen and destroyed be made, either by returning the property, or giving an equivalent.  If this is done the hatchet will be buried and the Indians and Americans will be friends and brothers.  

"Our great chief has always been told that the Indians in this country were all friendly; he has not sent any of his war chiefs here.  We have now sent word to him that our people have been killed; his war chiefs will come, and should you prefer w-ar to peace, let me tell you, and listen to what I say, they will punish you until you shall be fully satisfied with war and be glad to make peace....

"My advice to you as a friend is that you deliver up the murderers, or let the Americans go and take them without your interfering with them; in this case do not let the murderers shelter among you, lest your people should get killed through mistake, for which I would be very sorry."

Commissioner Palmer diplomatically informed the Nez Perce's that the Cayuses had by their conduct forfeited their lands.  "We do not want these lands," he added, "but we wish to open the road for Americans to travel, as they have done before.  We shall build a fort and station a number of men at Waiilatpu.  Our war chief will hunt these murderers as you hunt the deer, until he drives them from the face of the earth.  

"Suppose you were all to unite with the Cayuses and kill us off ; we are but a handful; others would come with both hands full and

 wipe you out.  We are slow to get angry, but when we begin war we never quit until we conquer." Palmer promised that a blacksmith would be sent them, and a teacher to instruct them in mechanical,and agricultural pursuits, and that no whites would be permitted to intrude upon them or settle on their lands without first obtaining their consent.

Newell reminded the Nez Perce's that he had fought with them, and that some of the Indians present had been his comrades in battle.  "I am not here to fight," he said, "but to separate the good from the bad and to tell you that it is your duty to help make this ground clean.  Thank God, you have not helped to make it bloody.  What have the Cayuses made; what have they lost? Everything; nothing but a name.  

"All the property they took in a short time will be gone; only one thing left, that is a name, 'the bloody Cayuses.' They will never lose that, only in this way, obey the great God and keep his laws.  What is our duty to the great God? This is his law: He who kills man, by man shall his blood be spilt.  This is what God says, and he must be obeyed, or we have no peace in the land."

Colonel Gilliam, Major Lee and Captain McKay confirmed the

promises of the other commissioners that no whites would be permitted to settle in the Indian country without the tribes' consent.

Camaspello, the Cayuse, declared that though his people seemed to have two hearts, he had but one.  He denied that he had given his consent to the murders at the mission, though he admitted that Tamsukie had told him of the plan of the younger men.  "I pointed to my sick child," said Camaspello, &sand told him my heart was there, and not on murder.  He went back and told his friends he had obtained my consent.  It was false." Joseph spoke for all the Cayuses present and also for his own people.  He did not wish war.  "You speak of murderers," he said, "I shall not meddle with them.  I bow my head."

Said Jacob: "It is the law of this country that the murderers shall die.  This law I keep in my heart, because I believe it is the law of God,-the first law.  I have heard your speech and am thankful.  When I left home I believed the Americans were coming for the murderers only.  I thank the governor for this good talk."

Red Wolf said that when he had heard of the murder of Doctor Whitman he had inquired whether the chiefs were responsible, and had learned that they were not all in the conspiracy, but that the young men were to blame.  Richard said that the last words of his old chief, Cut Nose, were: "My children, I leave you.  Love that which is good.  Be always at the side of right and you will prosper."

The Nez Perce's had been taught not to take bad words from their enemies and throw good words away.  Ellis, who was absent, he said, would be glad to hear that his people were for peace.  Kentuck said that he and his father fought with the Americans against the Blackfeet, and denied that his people's hearts were with the Cayuses.  "We are glad to hear you want none but the murderers," he concluded.

Newell presented the Nez Perce's with a large American flag, which he counseled them to keep as a gift from the great white father, to be hoisted on all national occasions.  The flag was accompanied by gifts of tobacco.  "In the evening," wrote Palmer in his official report to Governor Abernethy, "the Nez Perce's gave us a war dance, which amused and delighted us much, and we do them but bare justice when we say the performance was well timed, the parts well acted, characters represented to the very life, and the whole first rate."

The main body of the Cayuses was still encamped at some distance, and evidence was lacking that Camaspello spoke for the really influential members of his tribe.  The Nez Perce's chiefs, however, agreed to act as emissaries to the Cayuses, in an endeavor to persuade them to surrender the murderers.  

When the command moved forward, March 8, it was met by Chief Sticcas, of the Cayuses, bringing in a band of cattle and personal property and money which had been stolen from the Whitman mission and from passing immigrants.  Sticcas obtained consent to the holding of a council, at which it was announced that the Cayuses refused to surrender Teloukikt or Tamsukie.  Newell concluded at this point that further peace parleys would be useless and the peace commissioners returned to the Willamette valley.  

On the way home, Palmer conferred with Indians in the vicinity of The Dalles and persuaded them that it was to their interest to remain friendly.  They were at least neutral during the remainder of the campaign.

An important point had also been gained in obtaining the neutrality of the Nez Perce's.  Peu-peu-mox-mox, also known as Yellow Serpent, chief of the Walla Wallas, manifested friendship for the whites and wished an end to the whole affair, but one of the murderers had fled to the country of the Palouses, and Peu-peu-moxmox, though he may have desired to see the guilty one in custody, could not arrest him without precipitating war between the Palouses and the Walla Wallas.  

The Cayuses had lost heart for war, on finding themselves abandoned to their own resources, but continued hostilities some time longer in the evident hope of forcing further concessions.  They were willing to let bygones be bygones, but the peace party was unable to comply with the primary conditions laid down by the Americans.  The hostile faction and the friends and relatives of

 the murderers retained sufficient power to defeat the aims of those who would have bought security at any price.

Colonel Gilliam hastened in pursuit of the Cayuses, who divided their forces.  His command, numbering 158, made a night march and surprised the enemy in camp near the mouth of the Tucannon.  But the Indians were prepared with subterfuge, where open fighting would not serve their end, and represented themselves as friendly Walla Wallas.  

While the troops were investigating the truth of their statements, the main body of the enemy escaped across Snake river.  While returning from the scene, Gilliam's men were attacked in the rear by a body of about 400 Palouses and Cayuses.  Skirmish fighting ensued, -as the troops retreated down the Tucannon to a point within a few miles of the Touchet river.  Here the men camped without food or fire, and on. the morning of March 15, 1848, fought a spirited battle for possession of the ford across the Toucher.

"The history of savage warfare," says the report of Capt.  H. J.   G. Maxon, "contains few instances of greater Indian prowess and daring than the scene which followed.  The struggle for the ford was obstinate for some time.... And here I may say that had it not been for the bold and decided stand of a few young men at the most vulnerable point, the army must have sustained -a heavy loss in crossing the stream, perhaps been thrown into confusion and cut to pieces.  In an hour, the sound of our rifles had hushed.

The long battle was ended.  We were all over the river alive, and but nine or ten wounded, none mortally.  It was not so with the enemy.  The deafening roar of their musketry which had been sounding in our ears for thirty hours had died away,-their shrill war whoop was changed to the melancholy death song ... They called off their warriors, more anxious to leave the ford of the Toosha (Touchet] than they had been to gain it.  We moved to the fort, at which place we arrived on the evening of the 16th, worn down with fatigue and hunger, having eaten nothing but a small colt for three days."

Victory was with the troops, the Indians being glad enough to escape into the mountains with the livestock which the army had been forced to abandon on its retirement, but the soldiers were in no condition to pursue them.  A council of the officers was held on March 18, at Fort Waters (Waiilatpu), at which it was concluded that nothing effective could be done without more men and more ammunition.  

Pursuant to this decision, Colonel Gilliam, with two companies, about 160 men in all, moved toward The Dalles.  On the way Colonel Gilliam was accidentally killed, March 24, at Well Springs, near the Umatilla river, while drawing a riata from a camp wagon, which

 caused a rifle to be discharged into his body.

Command of the division devolved on Captain Maxon, whose report to Governor Abernethy, dated March 28, 1848, and published in the Oregon Spectator of April 6, 1848, aroused the Willamette valley to a high pitch of patriotism.  The death of Colonel Gilliam brought home to the people the gravity of the war.  But Maxon also described the hardships of the troops and graphically depicted their forlorn condition and, further, represented that the entire colony faced the peril of annihilation unless the Indians were checked promptly and decisively.

"Something must be done," wrote Maxon, "and done at once, or abandon the war and have the Indians in the valley in a month, stealing our property and murdering our frontier settlers. . . . A force of less than 600 men cannot carry on offensive operations, as the enemy have that force or more in fifty miles of Fort Waters.  

What men we have are in a destitute situation.  Some almost without clothing, many without horses, as the principal

portion of the horses we have taken have been claimed by friendly Indians and given up to them.... There are 150 of our boys in the heart of the enemy's country, almost without ammunition, -wholly without bread.... If there is a continuance of operations, I hope there will be more patriotism shown in the valley of the Willamette.  Indeed, there must be, or we are lost."

It was easier to stimulate patriotism than to supply the materials of war.  Captain Maxon's report contained an appeal to fathers to send bread to their sons, to mothers to send warm garments, and to daughters to "evince your angelic influence for your country's good by withholding your fair hand and fairer smile from any young man who refuses to turn out to defend your honor and your country's rights." Fifteen young women of the valley responded at once by signing a compact framed in the spirit of Captain Maxon's suggestion.

This agreement, published in the Oregon Spectator, April 20, 1848, read: "We hereby, one and all, of our own free good will, solemnly pledge ourselves to comply with that request; and to evince, on all suitable occasions, our detestation and contempt for any and all young men who can, but will not, take up arms and march to the seat of war, to punish the Indians who have not only murdered our friends, but have grossly insulted our sex.  

"We never can, and never will, bestow our confidence upon a man who had neither patriotism nor courage enough to defend his country and the girls,-such a one would never have a sufficient sense of obligation to defend and protect his wife.  Do not be uneasy about your claims, and your rights in the valley; while you are defending the rights of your country she is watching yours.  

"You must not be discouraged-fight on-be brave-obey your officers-and never quit your post 'till the enemy is conquered; and when you return in triumph to the valley, you shall find us ready to rejoice with you as we now are to sympathize with you in your Sufferings and dangers."   

      

At a meeting of the "ladies of Oregon City and vicinity held at the Methodist church, April 12, at which Mrs. N. M. Thornton presided, committees were appointed to obtain subscriptions of food and clothing.  Two hundred and fifty volunteers enlisted, including a company in Polk and Clackamas counties, of which

J. W. Nesmith was elected captain, a company in Linn county, of which W. P. Pugh was captain, and a company in Tualatin county, with William J. Martin as captain.

Money was extremely scarce in the territory and wheat was the common medium of exchange.  But wheat in the raw state was not wanted by the army in the field and the process of converting grain subscriptions into goods required by the commissary was tedious and cumbersome.  Supplies were collected in driblets.  Lead and powder were almost non-existent.  

The commissary agent at Salem reported that he had been -able to buy only six saddles.  Provisions were obtained here and there, a few hundred pounds at one place and a few hundred at another.  A forced loan of wheat from certain farmers and from Hudson's Bay Company granary at Champoeg was seriously considered at one time.  

The difficulties of the officers of commissary and supply were intensified by their anxiety to relieve the destitute condition of the troops in the field and to reinforce them in anticipation of a vigorous summer campaign.

There was no more fighting, however.  Governor Abernathy appointed Maj.  H. A. G. Lee, colonel, to succeed Colonel Gilliam, ignoring Lieutenant-Colonel Waters, who had temporarily succeeded Gilliam in command of the regiment, but Lee magnanimously resigned his commission and served as lieutenant-colonel under Waters.  

Two months were given to minor excursions in search of the murderers, who, with their companions among the hostile Cayuses, were supposed to have fled to the mountains in the direction of the Nez Perce's country.  Suspicion of the good faith of the Nez Perce's was bred in the minds of the soldiers by the fact that the Cayuses had been permitted to escape, but friendly members of the tribe atoned for this, so far as might be, by helping to drive captured Cayuse cattle into camp at Waiilatpu.

Word was received from the Rev.  Cushing Eells, at Tsimikain, containing information that the Spokane Indians were divided in

 opinion, although none condoned the murderers.  A delegation of 45 Spokanes accompanied the courier bringing Eells' message, and gave information of the whereabouts of a band of cattle belonging to one of the Cayuse culprits.

If money was scarce in the Willamette valley, it was even less plentiful among the soldiers, and the primitive necessity for barter to which the whole territory was then reduced is shown by a subscription paper signed at Clearwater Camp, Lapwai, by the men of Lieutenant-Colonel Lee's detachment, for the purpose of providing a reward to be offered to the Nez Perce's for the arrest of the criminals.  

Subscriptions were pledged in the form of wheat, blankets, shirts and miscellaneous merchandise, estimated to represent the equivalent of $125 in goods and wheat, besides 67 blankets and 104 shirts.  The reward was never claimed.

The text of the subscription compact was: "We, the undersigned, promise to pay to the Nez Perce's or other Indians, or their agent, the articles, sums, and amounts annexed to our names, respectively, for the capture and delivery to the authorities of Oregon Territory, any two of the following named Indians, viz: Teloukikt, Tamsucy, Tamahas, Joe Lewis or Edward Teloukikt, or half the amount for any one of them.  

"We also promise to pay one-fourth of the amount as specified above for the capture and the delivery of any one of the following: Llou-Llou, Pips, Frank Esmloom, Quiainashoukin, Estools, Showshow, Pahosh, Cupupupup, or any other engaged in the massacre.  The same to be paid whenever the service is rendered and the fact that it is rendered established."

The futility of further efforts to arrest the murderers was aPparent now that spring had come and the Indians were able to scatter out and subsist on the country.  Th,4 volunteers, though willing enough to fight, were weary of the monotony of mere police duty, and their private interests in the Willamette valley called them.  It was resolved by a council of officers to withdraw the main force from the Walla Walla region.  

A detail was sent to Lapwai to give a safe conduct out of the country to William Craig, who had been appointed resident Indian agent under the compact made with the friendly Nez Perce's, but whose situation was precarious while the murderers were free.  A detachment commanded by Major Magone proceeded to Tsimikain, as an escort for Rev.  Cushing Eells and Rev.  Elkanah Walker, their wives and children, and a Miss Bewley, sister of the captive of that name, who had remained among the Spokanes.  

It was now June, and the volunteers more than ever desired to return to their homes, so that when a vote was taken by the officers on the question of leaving a garrison to occupy Fort Waters until the immigrant season closed, the proposal was

 rejected by a vote of six to five.

In order to induce volunteers to remain, Lieutenant-Colonel Lee, who had assumed the duties of superintendent of Indian affairs, on the resignation of Joel Palmer, offered to give written authority for the colonization of the Cayuse country and this had the desired effect.  More than the requisite number offered their services.  

Lee wrote a letter, which was published in the Oregon Spectator, July 13, 1848, in which he informed the people of the Willamette valley that "there are now in the Cayuse country, grist and saw mills, blacksmith's anvil and bellows, with some tools, a quantity of iron, plows, harrows, a crop of wheat, peas, potatoes and corn, with -almost every convenience and facility in forming a settlement."

He wrote of the superior and peculiar adaptability of that section to the growth of wool and the raising of horses and cattle, while the climate, he added, "for health, and the scenery for beauty, cannot be excelled by any spot of earth."

Lee obtained the approval of Governor Abernethy for this new policy of introducing settlers into the very midst of the Indian country, and proclaimed the forfeiture of all the lands of the Cayuses, making no exception in favor of friendly members of the tribe.  The insatiable land-hunger which supplied a motive for the whole immigration movement, and which subsequently constituted an important obstacle to peaceful settlement of the Indian troubles, made the settlers peculiarly receptive to this new opportunity to enlarge their domain.  

"In middle and eastern Oregon," wrote the editor of the Spectator in his enthusiasm, "there is more prairie land covered with a dense growth of rich grass, upon which horses, cattle and sheep will subsist throughout the year, than all the meadow pasture and plow lands in all New England.  Who can estimate the wealth of such lands?

The volunteers who spent the last winter in the middle country assure us that it was remarkably mild and pleasant.  Some tell us that they never saw fat cattle until they saw them at Waiilatpu in February last. . . . Two lead mines were discovered in that portion of the country last winter.... The far-famed mountain of marble mentioned by Professor Hitchcock, in his Treatise on Geology, is in the neighborhood of the Cayuse country."

Notwithstanding this proposal to induce settlement, Major Lee was not yet quite sure that the country was safe for missionaries.  Eells -and Walker, and their families, were escorted out of the eastern region early in June, and Lee then addressed a letter to the Catholic priests at The Dalles, in which he declared it to be desirable that all missionary labors among the tribes should

 cease.  

"At present," he wrote, "the relations between the whites and Indians are too precarious to allow missionary labors with the Indians to be either prudent or effective of good.  So soon as circumstances will allow I shall take much pleasure in throwing wide open the door of missionary labor amongst the Indians to all Christian missionaries; at present, prudence demands that it shall be closed against all."

In addition to the volunteers who had been left at Waiilatpu, a lieutenant, an orderly sergeant and thirteen privates were detailed to guard The Dalles, and the remainder of the regiment proceeded to the Willamette valley and were mustered out, JulY, 1848.  The company on the Walla Walla passed the summer patrolling the immigrant trail.  

The Cayuse murderers kept well out of sight and no effort was made to apprehend them, in view of the general expectation that a regiment of United States cavalry would soon be assigned to duty in the territory.  The expected regulars were, however, diverted for service in the Mexican war.  

The rifle regiment arrived in the autumn of 1 1849, by which time the Cayuses, as a nation, were thoroughly cowed and heartily weary of being fugitives.  Without ammunition for the hunt, compelled to be constantly on the move, so that they could not raise crops, they were threatened with starvation.  

Five of the tribe, Teloukikt, Tamahas, Klokamas, Isaiachalakis and Kiamasumpkin, surrendered themselves at The Dalles.  Governor Lane went to that place with an escort of a lieutenant and ten men, of the rifle regiment, and brought them to Oregon City, where they were held as prisoners on an island in the Willamette river.  The trial was conducted by Judge 0. C. Pratt.  

Amory Holbrook, United States district attorney, prosecuted.  The defense was directed by the territorial secretary, Kintzing Pritchette, and was presented by R. B. Reynolds, paymaster, and Thomas Claiborne, captain of the rifle regiment.  The verdict of guilty was returned and the prisoners were executed June 3, 1850.

Charles H. Carey, "The Cayuse Indian War,"  General History of Oregon through early statehood.  Portland, Oregon: Binfords and Mort, 1971, p. 522-544.

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++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

THE CAYUSE WAR.

Clinton Snowden, "The Cayuse War,"  History of Washington. The rise and progress of an American State.  New York: The Century History Company, 1909, Volume II, p. 346-361.

The boundary question had been settled nearly a year and a half earlier.  There was no doubt that the territory now belonged to the United States, but no government had yet been provided for it.  A mounted rifle regiment had been raised two years earlier, to police the trail and furnish protection for the settlers, but the Mexican war had begun before it was ready to march, and it had been sent to the support of General Taylor.  The settlers were therefore left to their own resources.

When the governor's message had been read, J. W. Nesmith offered a resolution, which was unanimously passed, "authorizing the governor to raise a company of riflemen, not to exceed fifty men, rank and file, and to dispatch them forthwith to occupy the mission station at the Dalles, and retain said station until they can be reinforced, or other measures taken by the government."

A public meeting was held that same evening, which was addressed by Nesmith, S. K. Barlow and H. A. G. Lee, and forty-five volunteers were enrolled on the spot.  The volunteers assembled next day at Barlow's house, elected Lee captain, and immediately started for the Dalles.  

Their departure was cheered by their mothers, wives and sweethearts, who presented them with a flag, which they had made with their own hands while the company was assembling.  It was the first flag made on the coast.  The legislature next authorized the governor to call for a regiment of mounted riflemen, not to exceed five hundred in number, to serve for ten months unless sooner discharged, and to be subject to the rules and articles of war.  

The officers of this regiment were to be appointed by the provisional government, and the rendezvous was appointed at Oregon City on December 23d.

The news of the massacre spread rapidly.  A newspaper, the "Oregon Spectator," had been established at Oregon City more than a year earlier.  Its first number had been issued February .5, 1846, with William G. T'Vault as its editor.  It published such details of the massacre as were at hand, together with reports of the action of the legislature, and of the meeting at which the first volunteer company had been enlisted.  

The settlers were quickly aroused and as quickly responded-    Every young and every middle-aged man offered his services and brought his rifle with him if he had one.  The old men only remained at home.  All distinction between settlers who had once been foreigners and those who were American born immediately disappeared.  

Tom McKay raised a company among the old Canadian trappers on French Prairie, was elected its captain, and was among the first to report for duty.  By the day appointed for the rendezvous,

 enough men had enlisted to justify the organization of the regiment, and the legislature named Cornelius Gilliam as Colonel, James Waters, Lieutenant Colonel, Henry A. G. Lee, Major, Joel Palmer, Commissary and Quartermaster General, and A. Lawrence Lovejoy, Adjutant.

And now the supreme difficulty began to appear.  The provisional government was without funds, and without any means to raise funds in such amount and as promptly as needed.  The volunteers must be armed, provided with ammunition, and furnished transportation for a considerable part of the way, if they were to be hurried forward as promptly as was desirable.  Then they must be supplied as they advanced into the enemy's country, and this was certain to be expensive.  

There was only one way to get what was needed promptly, and that was to get it from the Hudson's Bay Company.

Jesse Applegate, A. L. Lovejoy and George L. Curry had already been appointed a loan commission, with authority to negotiate for $100,000 upon the credit of the government, but upon applying at the fort they had been informed by Chief Factor Douglas that he could not grant loans, or make any advances on account of the Hudson's Bay Company, his orders on that point being so positive that he "could not deviate from them without assuming a degree of responsibility that no circumstances would justify." It was therefore impossible to raise the means needed by loan, and there was no other source within reach, from which such a sum could be procured.

It was possible of course to make forcible levy upon the company, and this some advised, though the majority did not approve it at that time.  The chief factor had already shown his good will, by sending an expedition at the sole cost of the company, to rescue the women and children at Waiilatpu.  That had been done at the call of humanity, but he could not further dispose of the company's property, in disregard of positive instructions.  He, however, furnished what was necessary to equip the first company, accepting the note of Governor Abernethy, A. L. Lovejoy and Jesse Applegate for $1,000 in payment.

An appeal was made to the merchants of Oregon City, and it resulted in loans amounting to $3,600.  But this was so small an amount in comparison with what was needed that the loan commissioners resigned.  Others were appointed.  These were forced to take orders on stores, and as cash was most needed, they were converted at a considerable sacrifice.  The settlers gave what they could, the volunteers furnished something from their personal resources, and then set off for the hostile country poorly equipped, and not altogether confident that they could be regularly supplied as they would need to be.

In addition to raising and sending these volunteers to the front, the provisional government also dispatched a messenger, the

 redoubtable Joe Meek, to Washington, to notify the government of the massacre, and of the war it was about to make, and also to make an urgent appeal for aid.  Jesse Applegate was sent to procure aid from the governor of California.  With an escort of fifteen men he started to make the trip by land, through a country inhabited by Indians who had always been more or less hostile, but was compelled to turn back by the deep snow encountered in the Siskiou Mountains, and the dispatch of which he was the bearer was forwarded by sea.

In choosing Cornelius Gilliam to command the volunteers, the . provisional legislature had chosen wisely.  He was a native of North Carolina, though nearly all of his fifty years of life had been spent in Missouri.  He had served in the Black Hawk war, in Illinois, and later had commanded a company in the Seminole war in Florida.  

Still later he had raised a company to help expel the Mormons from the Middle West, and had returned from that campaign a colonel.  In 1844 he had commanded the emigrant train with which the Simmons party, the first settlers in Washington, and James Marshall, the discoverer of gold in California, had come to Oregon.  He had been ordained as a minister in the Free Will Baptist Church, but had not preached regularly.  

He believed in the sword of the Lord and of Gideon, and in Stonewall Jackson's policy of finding the enemy, and fighting him as frequently as possible, giving him no chance to rest and recuperate.

Before setting out on the campaign he was reported to have expressed some dissatisfaction with the refusal of Chief Factor Douglas to make the loan which the provisional government had requested, and to have threatened to supply his command by the law of war, from the Hudson's Bay Company stations if need be, and thus gave the chief factor some anxiety.  He had guns mounted at the fort and made preparations for defense, but was assured by Governor Abernethy that he should not be attacked. and confidences and mutual good feeling were restored again.

On the ninth of January Colonel Gilliam was ready to set out from Portland, then a new settlement on the west side of the Willamette below the falls.  On that day Chief Factor Ogden arrived with the captives rescued from Waiilatpu.  They were given a most cordial reception, and the story of the massacre, and of their own experience while in the hands of the savages, served to inspire the volunteers with fresh determination to avenge their wrongs.  

All fear that they would be slaughtered without mercy, should the Indians learn that the settlers were preparing to attack them,

was now removed, but the danger that the Cayuses might induce the other tribes to unite with them on the plea of common defense still remained, and Gilliam made all possible haste to reach the

 Indian country.

With the advance guard he reached the Dalles on January 23d- On the way up the river he had established a supply station at the Cascades, which was known as Fort Gilliam.  Lee. had erected a fort at the Dalles, known as Fort Lee.  In this the only cannon owned by the settlers, a nine-pounder, was placed, and it became the general headquarters for the campaign.  

The Indians in the neighborhood were already showing a hostile disposition, which strengthened the expectation that the tribes further in the interior would be found united and prepared for defense.  The time consumed in raising and arming the troops, had been regarded by them as an indication of indecision, or possibly of cowardice, and this had strengthened their courage, and tempted many of the younger warriors of neighboring tribes to join them.  

There had already been some skirmishing between Lee's men and the Indians on the south side of the Columbia, who had stolen some goods belonging to settlers, which had been cached near the beginning of the Barlow Road, and had been caught herding some of their cattle preparatory to driving them off.  

Major Lee had attempted to parley with them, but had been fired upon, and a fight had followed in which three Indians had been killed and one white man wounded.  The Indians had succeeded in driving off about three hundred head of cattle, and on the following day Lee's men had captured sixty Indian horses.

Later two of the volunteers were killed while herding the company's horses.  

The Indians had left two of their horses in the neighborhood, in the expectation that the herders would attempt to secure them.  In this they were not disappointed, and when the herders advanced to drive them ' in,  they were fired upon and both were killed.  One Indian was also killed in this engagement.

With a force of about one hundred and thirty men Gilliam now began the advance, and came up with the enemy at a place known as Meek's Cut Off.  On the morning of the 30th an attack was made and after a sharp fight the Indians were driven from their position, with the loss of about forty of their horses and some cattle.  As the result of this fight the Des Chutes Indians were induced to give up the struggle, and they made terms with the commissioners, saying that they had been forced into the difficulty through fear of the Cayuses.

Gilliam now pressed forward as rapidly as he could into the Cayuse country.  It was clearly seen that if the war was not carried to the Umatilla the Willamette Valley might be soon invaded; and that in any case to let the murderers escape unpunished would give the Cayuses, and all the enemies of the Americans, license to commit

 further crimes at will.  Gilliam therefore made his preparations quickly, and began a forward movement February 15th.  

Small parties of Des Chutes Indians followed, offering peace; and signal fires were also seen on distant hills, giving exact information to the tribes on the Umatilia of the force marching against them, and the rate of speed.  These signals were translated by Indian interpreters in the army.

As the troops advanced conflicting reports were received, some saying that the Nez Perces had joined the Cayuses, others that Peo Peo Mox Mox, the powerful chief of the Walla Wallas, was uniting with them.  Many individual Indians, besides the Cayuses, assembled to oppose the progress of the volunteers.  

These were gathered to the estimated number of over four hundred, and besides these there were. a hundred, or perhaps more, who followed simply to witness the fight, and await the issue to see

which party they would join.

On the 25th the Cayuses, with their allies from the north side of the river, felt strong enough to make a stand.  The place they chose was the elevated sagebrush plains, west of the Umatilla.  Although in midwinter the day was fair and warm.  The Indians were deployed on the hills and took shelter behind tufts of sagebrush, and anything else that would conceal them for the moment.  

Indian observers of the battle, including women and children, were stationed on distant elevations to witness the destruction of the Americans.  Gilliam had his little arm well in hand, and his y

wagons with his supplies thoroughly protected.  The Indians began the battle by a charge on horseback, but before coming within range of the rifles of the volunteers, they drew off to one side, and forming a long line, rode around them in a gradually narrowing circle, yelling meanwhile and brandishing their arms in a most threatening and yet entirely harmless manner.  

The savage seems ever to place great reliance in noise.  He shrieks and pounds his tom-tom to frighten the evil spirit out of the sick; he yells and makes all manner of hideous noises to frighten his enemies in war.  So in this battle the savage riders shouted their most savage war cries, and urged their horses to their utmost speed, gradually narrowing the circle as if confident that they would in this manner envelop and finally crush their enemies.  

The volunteers stood their ground firmly, waiting for their assailants to come within range.  Tom McKay, Dr. McLaughlin's stepson, was standing by Colonel Gilliam's side watching the

gradually narrowing circle.  To him it was no new performance.  He well knew its purpose and harmless character, if properly met.  Finally, pointing to one of the foremost and most frantic of the savage riders, he said: "I know that fellow; he is one of the

 principal medicine men of the Cayuses, and is doubtless boasting that no bullet can reach or harm him.  I can shoot him from where I stand."

"Very well, shoot him then," the colonel replied, and raising his rifle the veteran Hudson's Bay man fired, and the Indian rolled from his horse.  The volunteers could no longer be restrained and the firing soon became general.  The Indians ceased their frantic and harmless demonstration and retiring out of range, took shelter on the hills, and behind such objects as could afford them protection.  

The white men fought in a similar way, advancing from one shelter to another, to get within range.  Gradually their whole line advanced and after a battle lasting three hours the Indians retreated.

Over four hundred savages are reported to have taken part in this fight, of which eight were killed and a number wounded.  Among the latter was Five Crows, the young chief who carried Miss Bewley away from Waiilatpu, and kept her in his lodge until compelled to give her up.  He was struck by two bullets, one of which shattered his arm.  None of the settlers were either killed or wounded.

This battle would probably have defeated all hope among the Cayuses of inducing the other tribes to join them, had it not been that the provisional government had appointed a peace commission to negotiate with the hostiles at the same time that it raised the army.  It was expected that this commission would go with the army, or in advance of it, and would be able to do much to prevent a combination among the tribes, and perhaps it did do more in this line than was at the time believed.

It was composed of Joel Palmer, who was afterwards a most successful Indian agent and negotiator, and Robert Newel the od-time trapper, wi Perrin Whitman as interpreter.  These commissioners did not go forward as promptly as was expected, and perhaps it is as well they did not, for their coming was regarded by the Indians as an evidence of weakness.  

The messengers they sent out to invite representative chiefs from various tribes to meet them were often either turned back by the hostiles, or they were able to prevent their invitation from being accepted.  Colonel Gilliam was impatient of their presence.  He believed that prompt and effective action on his Part would do more than negotiation could, to prevent any accession to the ranks of the hostiles.  

Delay increased the difficulties of his situation, while it gave the enemy time to rest and recuperate, to gather supplies and to encourage the young warriors of other tribes, who were always inclined to bloodshed, to come to their assistance.  In this view he seems finally to have had the sympathy, if not the cordial

 support, of General Palmer himself.

By the 28th of February the volunteers were encamped on the Walla Wallay whence Gilliam sent a short report of the battle on the Umatilla to Governor Abernethy, and asked for reinforcements, as he feared that the delay caused by the efforts of the commissioners to negotiate, would lead to a coalition of all the tribes.  

He felt sure that the commissioners were too sanguine; that they were being imposed upon, and would accomplish no result.  He asked McBean to provide his men with a fresh supply of ammunition, but this was refused.  He therefore made a levy for it, 'and was told to help himself, which he did, He then moved up the Walla Walla to a point near the camp of Peo Peo Mox Mox, who professed friendship and supplied the soldiers with beef.  

He next moved on to Waiilatpu, where he reburied the bones of the victims of the massacre, some of which had been dug up by wolves, as previously stated, and then built an adobe fort nearby, which he called Fort Waters, in honor of his lieutenant colonel.

The situation now began to assume a very critical aspect.  Indians were seen collecting on the north side of the Columbia, above the Dalles, with the apparent purpose of plundering the supply boats as they passed up the river.  In the Willamette Valley the Klamaths arrived and stirred up the Mollatlas to make a demonstration at the Abiqua, a small stream in the vicinity of Silverton.  

In Benton County there was a collision with the Calapooias, two of the Indians being killed and two wounded.  That the coast tribes might also take advantage of the situation was shown by a number of Tillamooks coming into Polk County, committing petty depreciations, and killing an old man.  In this situation Governor Abernethy deemed it advisable to recall Gilliam  to the Willamette, and issued a call for three hundred more volunteers.  

On March 10th, however, Gilliam wrote Abernethy that the Cayuses were moving north, through the country of the Walla Wallas, and with their Palouse allies, a force of about four hundred, were encamped on the Tukanon.  He intended taking a force of two hundred and fifty men and attacking them.  He urged also the necessity of reinforcements, especially as the term of many of his men would soon expire.  

He very correctly saw that the surest way to prevent a combination among the tribes was to make an active campaign, and constantly degrade the hostiles by repeated defeats, until they should submit, and give up the murderers for punishment.  Leaving Fort

Waters, with about two hundred men, he marched to the Tukanon, which was reached on the 18th, where his force was reduced to one hundred and fifty-eight, by the return of Captain English, with the worn-out horses and men, and the property of Dr. Whitman

 brought in at that time by 'Sticcas.  

Information was here received that the Cayuses had divided Tamsuity having gone eastward to the land of the Red Wolf, on the Snake, and Telauka-ikt was preparing to cross the Snake with his Palouse allies.

A plan was then formed to attack the latter at tile crossing.  Soon after daybreak the troops overtook the Indians, who were thrown into confusion, but at once adopted a ruse.  An old man, with well-feigned sincerity, appeared and declared that these were not the hostiles, but the people of Peo Peo Mox Mox; that the Cayuses had gone on, leaving n their haste the cattle upon the hills.

The troops were ordered not to fire upon these in the camp, who were assembled to the number of four hundred, armed and painted, but to capture the cattle.  But on reaching the hills and overlooking the river, they saw the greater part of the stock already crossing, or else safely on the other side, with the Indian drivers urging them rapidly off; and at the same moment the four hundred painted Indian, just left at the camp as friends, were coming on in the rear of the scattered troops, with war whoops and the discharge of their fusees.  

About five hundred of the stock captured were hastily corralled on the creek, and the Indian fire returned.  Some of the Indians were picked off, but most of them remained at a safe distance in the hills, where the bullets of the soldiers could not reach them.

By this trick the Indians saved the greater part of their stock and drove it safely to the country of the Palouses.

As it was not practicable to cross this river in the presence of such a large hostile force it was decided to return with the cattle and horses captured at the Walla Walla.  The retreat was therefore begun, a rear guard keeping up the fight with the pursuing Indians.  Late in the afternoon camp was made on a small stream, but during the entire night a constant fire was kept up and the situation seemed very critical.  The captured stock was turned loose, and at daybreak the retreat was resumed, the rear guard still fighting.  

It was necessary Touchet, and as this stream to cross the beautiful but swift was approached, the Indians formed the bold design of seizing  the crossing before the Americans arrived, and thus blocking their retreat urging their horses to their utmost

speed, a considerable force of the braves gained the brush at the fords before the Americans.  

This unexpected dash commanded the admiration even of the troops who were thus jeopardized, Captain Maxon reporting that the history of savage warfare furnished few instances of greater Indian prowess and daring.  The Americans were at first thrown

 into confusion, all their fighting hitherto having been at the rear, a and there was positive danger for a few moments of a general rout and massacre.  

But a few young men at the most vulnerable point, taking matters in their own hands, encountered the Indians, rolling them back, and causing a melee rather than a battle.  For almost an hour the struggle lasted.  The Indians, although having every advantage were unable to concentrate, and fought in their old savage style, each for himself, relying rather on noise and threats, than careful marksmanship.  Many of them were wounded, and a number were laid on the field, but quickly borne away.

The river was then crossed safely, and Walla Walla was reached on the 16th.

This retreat might have been turned into a defeat if the Indians had known how to take advantage of it.  They were, however, repulsed with loss at the Touchet, and fled to the Snake.  Telau-ka-ikt and his band were driven across that river, and the Palouses lost faith in him, when unable to hold his own country.  From the large numbers of Indians present in this battle, it was manifest that many were Walla Wallas and Palouses.  But these seem to have dwindled away after the fight.  

The effect therefore was that of a victory to the Americans.  It has been said that there was a large band of Nez Perces in the vicinity, at the battle of the Tukanon, or Toucher; but they remained entirely friendly with the Americans.  At this place, and in many others during the winter, if these Indians had decided to become hostile, it is hardly possible that Gilliam's small command could have survived.

After reaching Fort Waters, on the Walla Walla, a council of war was held, and it was decided that about one hundred and fifty men should move down the Columbia to Fort Wascopam, at the Dalles, replenish their provisions, and confer with the governor.  Without more men, ammunition and equipment it was useless to follow the bands of the Cayuses, who might at any battle be strongly reinforced by renegades, who would at once become friendly if the Americans won, or hostile if they were defeated.  

On the way Colonel Gilliam met his death.  This was entirely accidental, but was none the less to be lamented.  In attempting to draw a lariat rope from a wagon, or as was said by some, while an aide, or teamster called "California" was removing some mats at the front, a loaded gun was discharged, the bullet, or as some accounts say, the ramrod which had been carelessly left in the barrel, striking him in the forehead, causing instant death.

After this the struggle took the usual course of Indian wars.  Troops were kept in the field under the general command of Colonel

 Waters and Colonel Lee, the latter a very able and discreet officer.  As spring opened, the Cayuses were chased from one section of country to another.  One company followed their trail into the land of the Red Wolf, and the country of t he Nez Perces, but found no hostiles.  

Some scattered parties were also pursued along the Snake River into the Grand Ronde country.  Occasionally there was some skirmishing, but no severe fighting.  The commissioners continued to make efforts to negotiate for the surrender of the murderers, but always without success, and the soldiers more and more blamed them for defeating their efforts to bring on a final and decisive battle.  

But the Cayuses were more nearly exhausted than the soldiers supposed.  The mark of Cain was upon them.  None of their old neighbors would give them aid, or lend them encouragement.  Their own resources were exhausted.  They were indeed no longer a tribe.  Broken up into small bands, hunted by the soldiers, more and more coldly received by their old-time neighbors among whom they sought refuge, they finally ceased to offer any resistance that was worthy of the name of war.  

The other tribes began to understand that the murderers alone were wanted, and these wretches who had wantonly slaughtered those who had done so much for them, were left without either friends or defenders.  They managed to retain their liberty nearly two years longer, but were finally surrendered to the government at Oregon City in the spring of 1850.

As the result of the massacre and the war which followed it, the Cayuse tribe ceased to be.  From being what Dr. McLaughlin had described it to Whitman to be, the manliest and best of all the Indian tribes east of the mountains, it became in a few months, a handful of scattered fugitives, seeking shelter where none were willing to give it.  Its crimes were abhorred even by savages.  

Its language ceased to be spoken, and even its very name ceased to be used, except to describe a very inferior kind of horse.

There was another result which was more to be regretted.  The missionaries were compelled to leave that part of the country, and they were not able to return, nor were white settlers permitted to make their homes there until ten years later.

Clinton Snowden, "The Cayuse War,"  History of Washington. The rise and progress of an American State.  New York: The Century History Company, 1909, Volume II, p. 346-361.

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CAYUSE WAR.

Richard G. Montgomery, "The Cayuse War,"  Young Northwest.  New York: Random House, 1941, p. 208-221.

On November 29, 1847, the Cayuse Indians in the Umatilla Valley rose against the remote Whitman mission and massacred the missionary, his wife and seven others.  Five more mission workers were murdered within the next few days.  A group of women and children were held as prisoners.

Up to this time the conflict between the white settlers and the Indians had been sporadic and intermittent.  

Dr. McLaughlin had dealt out swift and certain punishment for any hostile outbreak.  Now the Provisional Government was in control and the red men felt less in awe of the new authority.  At the same time their wrath against the white settlers was growing.  At first the Indians around the mission settlements had been friendly, helpful and eager to learn.  

But since 1843, when Dr. Whitman had guided the first great covered wagon migration into the Oregon Country, the Indians had watched new wagon trains lumber down the slope of the Blue Mountains every year.  Soon, they saw, there would be no part of this great country left to themselves.  So at last they turned in primitive fury upon the only white people at hand.

The reaction of the settlers was equally quick and furious.  The instinct of self-preservation, and the desire for revenge, fought on both sides.  It was becoming more and more apparent that the two peoples could not live side by side.

In the beginning it was the Hudson's Bay men who acted most promptly to put down the uprising.  News of the massacre reached the Spalding mission in time for the missionary to escape with his family and other mission workers, and with the help of the friendly Nez Perce' Indians, to reach Fort Vancouver. James Douglas, in charge of the Hudson's Bay post there, immediately dispatched Peter Skene Ogden to the scene of the massacre.

Ogden was an old hand at dealing with Indians.  He ordered the Cayuse chiefs to meet him at Fort Walla Walla and rebuked them sternly for their failure to control the young hotheads of their tribe.  He warned them that the Americans would surely seek revenge.  Nevertheless, he made it clear, his company wished to remain neutral in the fight: his only purpose was to rescue the survivors of the Whitman mission.

This was the kind of straight-from-the-shoulder talk the worried red men could understand.  In return for a ransom of sixty-two blankets, sixty-three cotton shorts, twelve company guns, 600 loads of ammunition, thirty-seven pounds of tobacco and twelve flints, they surrendered their captives whom Ogden then conducted safely down the Columbia to Oregon City.

Even before Ogden arrived on the scene, the Catholic Missionaries near by had tried to intercede.  Father Brouillet had rushed to the scene to care for the suffering women and children who had escaped the cruel tomahawks, to baptize the dying and help prepare their graves.  

At the Umatilla mission, Bishop Blanchet bravely faced the Cayuse chiefs in a vain effort to avoid further bloodshed.  Fearing the outcome of a war between the Indians and the whites, he begged the chieftains to surrender the murderers.  At last, sadly, he abandoned his negotiations and traveled down to Oregon City with Ogden and the hapless survivors.

      

News of the tragedy was spreading quickly through the Willamette Valley.  Panic soon gave way to anger.  The Provisional Government was weak, but the fear that the Cayuses would rise against the whole region combined with desire for revenge to rouse the valley people to superhuman activity.  They determined to make war on the Cayuses and exterminate them.

Under the leadership of Governor Abernethy, the settlers raised a miniature army of five hundred men, fully equipped.  Cornelius Gilliam was appointed colonel and the infant town of Portland soon became the rallying ground f or the various companies of volunteers.  Thomas McKay, the stepson of Dr. McLaughlin, recruited an armed force of French Canadians-crack fighters, every one.

It was at this very time that Joe Meek made his celebrated cross-country dash to Washington to tell the story of the Whitman massacre and beg for help.  So slender were the resources of the Provisional Government that the rugged mountain man was forced to borrow money for his expenses.  Aside from his patriotic desire to help the people of Oregon, Meek had a personal account to settle.  

His own daughter, Helen, had been a Whitman mission victim.  Having escaped the Cayuse tomahawks, the girl had died of a serious illness shortly after the massacre.  No medical aid, of course, had been available.  So, the old fighter was spurred on by a very personal urge when he set out across America for help.

Early in 1848, Colonel Gilliam moved eastward along the south bank of the Columbia, with his little army-an army which made up in courage and enthusiasm for what it lacked in numbers.  Oddly enough, a peace commission of three men traveled with the soldiers.  

Although nobody seemed to know exactly what was expected of this trio, it looked as if the ambitious government officials hoped to win a war and draw up a treaty of peace all at the same time!

Whatever the purpose may have been, Colonel Gilliam was not enthusiastic about having these meddlesome commissioners with him.

 

He feared that they would slow up his whole campaign and his fears turned out to be correct.  Indeed, the men of peace seized upon every rumor of slackened native activity as an excuse to delay military operations.  

The Indians took advantage of these respites to rally their forces and to deceive Gilliam by acts of treachery.  The commissioners meant well but their presence on the battlefield prolonged the strife.  Gilliam was not a man to put up with such interference indefinitely.  He managed better after he resolved to fight the war his own way.

There were numerous battles in the Cayuse War, if the wild skirmishes between the settlers and the Indians could be so designated.  Poor shots at best, the natives counted heavily upon frightening their enemies with mad charges and bloodcurdling yells.  

They became dismayed when the resourceful Oregon soldiers employed these same tactics.  Colonel Gilliam led his men bravely until he was killed by the accidental discharge of his own gun.  From that time forward, Major H. A. G.  Lee served as colonel and continued the campaign until its successful close.

In the end, victory came to the determined little army largely because the Cayuses were unable to rally the other tribes of the interior to their cause.  

They made desperate attempts to induce the Nez Perce's, the Spokanes, the Walla Wallas and the Des Chutes to aid them but, fortunately for the Americans, these tribes concluded that the Cayuse fight was not theirs.  As a result, the hard-pressed Cayuses became a hunted people without friends.

Toward summer, the Indians were so completely beaten that Colonel Lee ordered most of his men back to the valley where they were needed to harvest the crops.  

Only a handful of soldiers remained at The Dalles to keep watch.  So quiet was the Indian country that the small emigration Of 1848 came through unmolested.  Still, though, the Cayuse murderers had refused to give themselves up.  Like hunted animals, they were forced to live by themselves in the wilds.

For a time there was peace but soon fresh Indian troubles developed in various sections of the Pacific Northwest.

During the late summer and fall of 1848, two-thirds of the able-bodied men in the Oregon Territory departed for California.  Jim Marshall, one of the 1844 emigrants, had struck out for California shortly after his arrival.  Now he had found gold at Sutter's mill-race, on the American River.  The magic word soon spread throughout the nation and started the famous gold rush of

 the late forties.  

First to arrive on the scene were the pioneers of the Pacific Northwest.  During the early stages of the rush there were so many of the Oregon Country settlers in the mining country that the Mexicans and South Americans already there referred to all Yankee gold hunters as "Oregon men."

Later of course they were lost in the mad rush of the '49'ers.  Rumbling wagon trains arrived overland from the Middle West and Easterners poured in by boat from the long sea trip around Cape Horn.  In 1 848 only 700 emigrants came to Oregon, and in 1 849 the migration to the Northwest fell off to only 400 genuine home seekers, au of them.

This mass exodus to the south left a weakened string of settlements.  

The canny red men, realizing this, chose that particular time in which to strike. Almost as soon as the Territorial Governor, Joseph Lane, set up the new government on March 3, 1 849, he was forced to cope with them.  Happily Lane was a strong character, exactly the type of man needed to take charge of affairs in Oregon.  As an experienced campaigner, he was eager to get into action against the red men, but he thought it wiser to await the arrival of his regiment of riflemen.

When the men came, their ranks woefully depleted by desertion, the Governor placed them in temporary barracks at Oregon City while he proceeded to settle some minor difficulties with the Indians.  

First, he restored peace between the Klickitats and the Walla Wallas, and then he adjusted some troubles near the valley settlements.  With the coming of early summer, a fresh Indian threat appeared on Puget Sound.  Leading his small company of riflemen, augmented by volunteers, the Governor hurried north to protect the settlers against the expected attack.

Before he could reach the scene, though, Chief Patkanim of the Snoqualmies stormed Fort Nisqually but was repulsed by its brave defenders.  Two white men were killed in the melee.  Had the Snoqualmis been successful, large stores of arms and ammunition would have fallen into their hands and another bloody war would have resulted.  Fortunately the settlers held their ground.

By the time Governor Lane reached Tumwater, close by Nisqually, word had reached him of the arrival, in the Columbia, of the United States warship Massachusetts, with two companies of artillery.  Some of these men were ordered north immediately.  

In August they built Fort Steilacoom as a further protection for near-by settlers.  In the clean-up campaign which followed, two of the chiefs, who had participated in the Nisqually outbreak, were

 caught and executed, but the rest of the culprits escaped.  Oregon's new governor was proving a worthy successor to the "White-Headed Eagle."

Following his activity in the north, Lane removed all of the recently arrived United States troops to new barracks at Vancouver.  

This decision to concentrate the little army in one place was based upon the Governor's fear that many would desert to the gold fields.  Despite all precautions, one hundred and twenty of the soldiers at Vancouver managed to get away, and the Governor had a difficult time rounding them up.  He had to make a special expedition south after the deserters.  Those who were overtaken in the mountains of southern Oregon were near starvation and more than glad to return to the service.

Back in Oregon City, Governor Lane had just returned from one of his jaunts through the country when he received word that the Cayuse murderers, weary of living like hunted animals, had given themselves up.  

The Governor rode with a military escort to The Dalles where he arrested the five fugitives-Tilaukait, Tamahas, Klokamas, Quiamashouskin and Tsaiachalkis.  During the ride back to Oregon City and during the long period of confinement which followed, these natives maintained a proud bearing, revealing no remorse for the bloody deeds they had committed.

To the credit of the Territorial Government, the Indians were given a fair trial.  Older settlers, who had strong reason to be bitter against them, were barred from serving on the jury and an able defense was provided.  

The whole proceeding was an object lesson to Indians in all parts of the Pacific Northwest.  It demonstrated that the white man would insist upon justice even for the blackest criminal.  Nevertheless, the murderers were found guilty and were hanged on June 3, 1850.  Old Joe Meek, the United States Marshal, had his measure of revenge-he presided as executioner.

The hanging of the Cayuse Indians ended the long drawn-out struggle between the settlers and that warlike tribe.  The spirit of these once proud red men was broken for good.  Soon they began to decline in power and prestige and to dwindle in numbers.  For their one mad act, they had paid a heavy price!

Despite the fact that peace prevailed at last in the Territory, Protestant missionary work east of the Cascades was over.  Efforts were made to close the Catholic Missions located there, but they were found to be too firmly entrenched.  These missions were north of the section in which the Indian troubles had occurred and hence they had not been involved in them.  Then too the Catholic fathers had always been able to work in complete safety among the natives.

Strong as it was, the desire for gold had not been strong enough to depopulate Oregon or even to slow down its progress.  Families and farms proved stout ties.  They held back many and sped the return of others.  In California, Oregonians found a good market for their products and returning miners carried back with them more gold than the home people dreamed existed.  

Gold poured into the Pacific Northwest in a continuous stream.  It was used in exchange for vegetables, beef, bacon and all kinds of food products with the result that the pioneers enjoyed their first wave of prosperity.  A bushel of Oregon apples sold for fifty dollars!

One of the first parties to return from the gold fields was a group of about a hundred suddenly wealthy Oregonians.  After packing their few belongings and their gold dust, they embarked for the Columbia River on the ship Janet.

A few short months in California had sufficed to make their fortunes.  Now they were eager to get back to their homes and to take their places in the building of Oregon.

These men were unbelievably careless about their newly acquired wealth.  Some carried gold dust through the streets of little Oregon towns in pails! Others used tea tins and even milk cans! It was not uncommon for a returning settler, riding up the valley on horseback, to stop for food at some wayside cabin and leave a sack of gold beside the steps while he went inside to eat.  It was an age when men trusted each other.

On March 4,1849, Zachary Taylor succeeded James K. Polk as President of the United States.  Since the new chief executive was a Whig, it was certain that he would replace Governor Lane, a Democrat, with a member of his own party at the first opportunity.  The opportunity presented itself in 1850 when President Taylor named Major John P. Gaines as the new governor of Oregon Territory.  The office was first offered to Abraham Lincoln, who declined.  How different might have been the course of history had he accepted.

Joseph Lane had become immensely popular and the Oregon Democrats, as well as some others, were angered by the change.  Nevertheless, Gaines arrived in due course to assume his new duties and served with distinction until 1853. Later Lane had the satisfaction of defeating his rival in the race to represent the Territory in Congress.

Meanwhile Oregon was growing.  One of Joseph Lane's first acts as governor had been to order a census.  The count of noses revealed that there were 9,083 people living in the Territory-a rapid growth since the days, only a few years earlier, when the white

 settlers numbered fewer than one hundred.  Lane also ordered an election soon after he assumed office.  Members of the Territorial Legislature were chosen and Samuel R. Thurston was elected as Oregon's representative in Congress.

Richard G. Montgomery, "The Cayuse War,"  Young Northwest.  New York: Random House, 1941, p. 208-221.

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COL. CORNELIUS GILLIAM

[North Pacific History Company. "Cornelius Gilliam and the Cayuse War," History of the Pacific Northwest Portland: North Pacific Publishing Company, 1889 Volume II, p. 335-343].

Colonel Gilliam was a native of North Carolina, and was born in 1798. But his recollection of that state in after years was like a dream; for when but a youth be accompanied his parents to Missouri, where he lived for many years. August 31, 1820, he married Miss Mary Crawford of that state.

Ten years later he, was elected sheriff of Clay county for a term of two years; and at the expiration of that time be joined the Black Hawk war. In 1837 he served as captain of the company which fought all through the Seminole war. About this time trouble arose with the Mormons.

The authorities decided to expel them from the state; and for that purpose volunteers were called for Captain Gilliam came to the front, raised a company and was chosen its captain. He was soon after promoted to a colonelcy for meritorious conduct.

In 1843 be represented Andrew county in the legislature. Religiously he was a free-will Baptist. In 1845 he was ordained to the ministry; and the next year he left for Oregon, arriving in the fall. He first settled in Polk county, but soon removed to Benton county, there remaining until his departure in 1847 to join the then marshaling forces for the Cayuse war; for the Indians threatened death and destruction on every hand.

The people were in mortal dread and terror, both for their lives and their property; for many depredations had been committed by the Indians; and in several instances cold blooded, outright murder and atrocious massacres of whole families had occurred.

The life and character of Colonel Gilliam is so closely interwoven with the details of this war, and he figures so prominently in it, that the mere mention of his name is sufficient to recall the long, weary marches, the sufferings and privations and the many hard fought battles, all encompassed in what is known as the Cayuse war.

This biography, without the details of that war, would be incomplete; and a history of the war with Colonel Gilliam omitted would be a story without a hero. They are inseparable.

When the news reached Oregon City about dusk of the 8th of December, 1847, by a messenger from The Dalles, reporting that Doctor Marcus Whitman, his wife, and all connected with him, had been murdered at Waiilatpu, November 26th, by the Cayuse Indians, and calling for protection from The Dalles, the legislature under the Provisional government was in session at that place.

The governor took immediate action, and dispatched a messenger to the body. Honorable J. W. Nesmith introduced a resolution which passed, authorizing the organization of a company of volunteers to immediately take possession of The Dalles. That evening a company was recruited, with H. A. J. Lee as captain; and in forty eight hours afterwards they were well on the way.

The ladies of Oregon City took a deep and active interest in the raising of the company. They were headed by Mother Hovel, well known at that place as the moving spirit of everything tending towards peace. They made a neat flag, and provided many delicacies for lunch on the way, and selected Honorable J. W. Nesmith, member from Polk county, to present them to the company.

In his presentation speech he did honor to both head amid heart, and cheered the boys for the march which was before them. Captain Lee, on behalf of the companY, in a neat speech accepted the gift presented by the ladies. It is Oregon City that holds the honor of making the first flag to be borne in the defense of the country on this coast.

The situation at this time was appalling, to say the least. The people were scattered sparsely over the country, with but meager means of defense. They had hut few guns and less ammunition, and no means of obtaining either except through the Hudson's Bay Company; and that company was anxious that the English government should obtain control of the country. It was clear that no help from them would come.

With the Indians on the one hand, and the Hudson's Bay Company on the other, the people were hemmed in and almost powerless. But necessity is the mother of invention; and this was another case where the way supplied the means.

The legislature then in session took due notice of the alarming situation. It was rumored that all of the Indians east of the Cascade Mountains had united in one band to totally exterminate or forcibly drive the Americans out of the country; and they were ably generaled by the Hudson's Bay Company.

Isolated and shut out from the rest of the world, one year at least must, intervene before assistance could be obtained from the seat of the home government. The situation was truly appalling.

 Some thing had to be done. The legislature wisely determined to wage an aggressive war in the country of the hostile Indians, and that promptly.

They authorized the governor to raise a regiment of five hundred men, and elected Cornelius Gilliam, the subject of this sketch, Colonel; James Waters, Lieutenant-Colonel; H. A. J. Lee, Major. The governor issued his proclamation, and sent runners in every direction calling upon the settlers to respond, which they did nobly, contributing largely of their means for the successful prosecution of the war at hand. This was the only means within reach of the Provisional government by which they could carry on the planned campaign.

The young men of the country volunteered to brave all the dangers of the future. Many furnished their own outfits as. far as they were able; and, where they were not able, they were furnished by the settlers. The men with families remained at home to protect their wives and little ones. There were perhaps not to exceed fifty men, from first to last, who were heads of families, or who exceeded twenty-five years of age.

The material consisted of boys and young men from sixteen to twenty-four years of age, just the age to follow wherever a brave commander would lead, and ask no questions. They had unbounded confidence in their commander; and their motto was, "If our colonel can stand it we can;" and his was, "To live just as the boys did." If he had an extra blanket, some one of the boys got it. If the boys were without coffee or tea, notwithstanding some of his mess had with their own means provided these delicacies, not one drop could they get him to touch.

"If they were without bread, no bread would he eat; or if the beefsteak was broiled before the fire on a stick, and cut off with their knives and eaten as it was cooked, you would find him faring just the same. If the meat was pure horse steak, straight (which was frequent in his excursions) you would find him eating and apparently enjoying it.

This is the way he obtained their confidence. Backed by his grit and energy in preventing a combination of those Indians, is it any wonder that he succeeded in conquering them and in bringing about peace within six months?

The greatest eulogy that can be pronounced of either the dead or the living can be said of Colonel Cornelius Gilliam, when it is declared that he gave his life for the lives of the early settlers of Oregon and Washington, and was one of the few men who saved this grand country from falling into the hands of the English government; and to-day he and his successors in office, and the men under them, who suffered almost every hardship that the mind can conceive in a war of that character, and who fought to a successful issue the greatest Indian war of this coast, are almost forgotten.

There is not a decent gravestone to mark the last resting place of the gallant commander. The little flurries of General Howard after Joseph, and the other Indian wars, were but mere child's play compared to it; yet they are all the talk. The few survivors of the early Indian wars have grown gray, old and poor, many being unable to work; yet the state and general government fails or refuses to recognize them or give them a word of cheer.

The newspapers report that the general government, through its Honorable Secretary of War, has failed to find any records in reference to it, or that such a war ever occurred. The fact is that the general government did recognize it, and tardily paid the poor soldiers the pittance of soldier's wages, nothing for their outfit, and about one-half the true value of the supplies furnished by the poor settlers to prosecute the war. There must have been at that time something in the office to show that the service had been rendered and the debt contracted.

On the 8th day of January, 1848, about six weeks after the reception of the news of the massacre of Doctor Whitman and all connected with him, men, women and children, about thirty in number (except one man, his wife and' small child, who secreted themselves under the floor of Whitman's residence and there remained until after midnight.

Then they succeeded in making their escape by hiding in the brush during the day and traveling by night and at last succeeded in reaching the Hudson's Bay Company's fort at Wallula, and several girls who were carried away as captives by the Indians), the command took up the line of march from Portland, the place of rendezvous, to the scene of action, crossing the Columbia river below the mouth of the Sandy to Vancouver, and recrossing again just above the Cascade fall, reaching The Dalles the fifth day after leaving Portland. The supplies followed them up the river in boats, and supplied them at their encampment each evening.

On reaching The Dalles the command went into camp to await their supplies, which had not reached that place. The large number of Indians who usually wintered there had left. The few remaining expressed no desire to be friendly.

On the morning of the third day, two of the guards who had been placed around the horses of the command  were killed by the Indians, who had decoyed them away from camp by tying a horse to some brush a few hundred yards from where the men were located. Supposing the horse belonged to the command, and that the ropes attached to him had been caught in the brush, they went to release the animal, and were shot and killed in the act. Colonel Gilliam determined at once to chastise them and bring them to terms if possible before leaving for Walla Walla.

He sorely feared the consequences of having ami enemy behind as well as one in front of him. These Indians were composed of the Warm Spring and Dalles tribes, numbering several hundred warriors,

 who were daredevils. He learned that their village was located in a deep cut on the east side of the Des Chutes, opposite what is now known as Warm Spring Reservation. He accordingly, the next morning after the tragedy, with all his available command, proceeded thither. Crossing the Des Chutes near its mouth, after making a forced march, he went into camp late in the evening.

On the next morning he sent Major Lee with a small detachment to ascertain if possible the exact location of the Indians. The Major returned late in the evening, and reported that after traveling several miles he discovered a small number of Indians in front of him, and that he in a friendly manner tried to approach them; but as he advanced they retreated.

Thereupon he ordered a charge, but had not gone far before he discovered a large body of Indians in his front. He then ordered a retreat, the Indians pursuing him, and reached the command about eight o'clock p. M., reporting the loss of one man, William D. Stillwell, a private in Captain Thompson's company. This, however, proved a mistake. It appears that in the charge Private Stillwell was in advance, out of hearing distance of the order to retreat; and he did not discover the Indians until his opportunity to retreat was entirely cut off.

He saw that his only chance of escape was to press on down the gulch to its mouth, and then leave his horse and take to the rocks along the Des Chutes river, and by that means save his life, which he did, and reached the command about daylight, having been wounded in the hip by an arrow. He was the same William D. Stillwell who ran the gauntlet when Captain Hembree was killed in the Yakima Indian war of 1855─56, when the Indians were in front, behind amid on each side, showering the arrows at him as he ran; but he escaped unhurt.

On the next morning, as soon as it was light enough to travel, Colonel Gilliam with his command climbed the steep bluff which runs along the whole course of that river, following the Indian trail, and proceeded directly to the point where the Indians were located the day previous. When the command reached that point, they encamped at some mud springs; and the next morning, after moving forward a few miles, they discovered a body of Indians formed in line on the bluff in front and on the opposite side of the deep cut where they were located.

When the command reached the ravine that ran through the cut, the Colonel ordered a halt, and ordered his men to fall into line. After viewing the situation (the Indians taunting the command and calling to them to come up, not thinking for a minute that they would attempt to ascend the steep bluff in front to reach them), he saw that the trail turned both up and down the cut, but not across, and that the bluff was too steep and abrupt to ascend with horses.

The troops were in line awaiting orders. Pointing to the Indians,

 he said: "Boys, we've got to reach those fellows; and we can't reach them with our horses. The only way I see that we can react

them is on foot and in front of them. Dismount! The captains will detail two men from each mess to take charge of the horses; and the balance will form in line in front."

When the line was formed, he said: "Don't get too close together; but keep a space of three or four feet between each of you, and protect yourselves as well as you can by the overhanging rocks. Keep in line, and don't exhaust yourselves. It must be a quarter of a mile from where we stand to where the Indians are. Don't shoot until you reach the top of the bluff, and then give it to them. Forward!"

The command proceeded up the bluff amidst a storm of bullets,which as they whistled by, amid with the cracking of the Indians' guns, drowned all other noise. The Indians in their excitement overshot, and not a man was wounded until they reached the top of the bluff, when the Indians were quickly put to flight and retreated out of reach of the guns.

As they were mounted the command could accomplish nothing more on foot; and the Colonel ordered a halt and directed one of the officers with a small posse of men to find a place by which the horses could be brought up. They soon discovered that the trail at the mouth of the gulch ascended the hill; and the horses were ordered up. During this time the Indians remained in front out of gunshot, silent and sullen, watching their movements. As soon as the horses came up, the command mounted and charged the Indians, who soon scattered and fled.

The Colonel discovered from their movements that their village lay to the east; and he at once started in that direction. Ater traveling about two miles, they discovered the Indian village on a small creek, and found it had been deserted except by a few old and helpless Indians who could not be taken away. Everything showed that it had been deserted in great haste. Not a tent nor skin home had been removed; and a large amount of their furniture and supplies remained in them.

Here that principle which was always prominent in Colonel Gilliam's character, his great sympathy for the fallen, weak and helpless, was tested. A proposition was made to burn the village; but his reply was: "No. I can fight the bucks; but I cannot fight the helpless women and children. It is now winter; and if you burn their village they will likely perish. Let us leave it just as we found it; and it may have a good effect."

The troops proceeded a short distance below the village, and camped, tired and hungry. Being out of provisions, the Colonel sent to The Dalles for supplies, meanwhile sending out detachments to find Indians. During this time the troops lived on horsemeat, the first they had eaten. The supplies arrived on the third day; and the command set out for The Dalles, reaching there in two

 days. As soon as arrangements could be made for the transportation of supplies for the command, the Colonel resumed his march for Walla Walla.

Nothing of interest transpired until the morning after leaving the encampment at the Well Springs. They had now reached the country claimed by the hostile Indians, and expected at any time to be engaged in battle with them. The Colonel, before leaving camp, had sent his scouts in front along the road with instructions to go as far as Butter creek, and to report to him about ten o'clock A. M.

A man was seen approaching at a rapid pace along the road, and was recognized as a scout, who came up and reported a large body of Indians in front near where the road turned off, Now with the hostile Indians in battle array, expecting an easy victory, they looked at their own little band, not to exceed three hundred and fifty men, and thought of the consequences if they failed in the struggle before them.

It was enough to make the stoutest heart quail. Colonel Gilliam said: "Boys, the murderers of Doctor Whitman are before us with their allies; and behind them on the hill are as many more ready to join them in case the battle goes against us. You know the consequences if we fail; not one of us will be left to tell the tale. And that is not the worst.

"Every tribe of Indians in the whole country will unite to desolate our homes, and to exterminate and drive all the Americans from this country. But we are not going to fail. We are going to whip them and teach them a lesson to-day that they will never forget. Don't shoot until you are ordered. Obey your officers, and quietly wait until you are ordered to begin the battle.

The Indians silently and slowly moved up until they were almost within gunshot; and in a moment, as if by electricity, every horse sprang to almost full speed; and every throat produced such unearthly yells and sounds that it seemed as though the infernal regions had been turned loose.

They moved in a circle around the command in regular order, keeping a space of about four feet between their horses, and gradually drawing nearer as they moved nearer around the little army of Whites, until they had entirely encircled it. So regular-was the order, and so well had they gauged their speed, that as their line came up they began to form a circle within the outer circle. They had now approached within gunshot; and their leader kept several paces in front of them.

Lieutenant Charles McKay said: "Colonel, I know that Indian. He is their great medicine man, and their leader here. He has made those Indians believe we cannot kill him, that our balls cannot harm or penetrate him. Let me shoot him. I believe I can kill him." "Kill him," replied Colonel Gilliam; and at the crack of the gun he fell from his horse; and several Indians sprang forward and carried him

 away.

The fight now became general; and the din of discharging guns, war whoops of the savages, and crys of defiance from the soldiers, drowned everything else.

Their principal chief Five Crows, fell mortally wounded early in time action. The loss of their leader threw them into confusion; and the hot and terrible reception they met from the soldiers caused them to fall back out of gunshot. They remained in that position about twenty minutes, when they again attacked the soldiers, this time charging directly upon them; but they were again repulsed and fell back in utter confusion.

The remainder of the day was spent in skirmishing, the Indians changing their tactics. Their object now seemed to be t draw a detachment away from the main body of soldiers, and to cut them off before they could regain a place of safety. They would send out detachments as a decoy to draw out detachments of soldiers against them, when they would retreat, drawing the troops after them, being so posted that a large body of Indians could quickly place themselves between the detachment and the body of the command. Colonel Gilliam at once understood the trick, and determined to gratify them as far as he could with safety.

His forces were so small that he was compelled to keep them in striking distance of each other to protect them against the array of Indians. Therefore, in sending out detachments, his instructions were to only go so far; and the officers in command were to watch closely the enemy posted on each side; and, if any attempt was made to cut them off, to at once fall back. He always kept a sufficient force to assist the scouting parties.

Sometimes the boys would grow too eager, and forget their instructions and get too far away. Then you would see a race between the Indians and the soldiers, the savages trying to cut them off and the boys trying to reach the command. And so the day passed, the Indians failing in every effort.

About four o'clock in the afternoon, the Indians left; and the command stayed on the ground until morning, providing for the comfort and transportation of the wounded. Those supposed to be mortally or dangerously wounded could not be carried in the wagons; and a blanket was lashed to two tent poles, on which a bed was made; and on the shoulders of the uninjured they were gently carried to Walla Walla.

The camp was without both wood and water, except a little in the canteens, which had to he kept for the wounded, among whom was Colonel Waters. Early in the morning the command started, but had traveled only a short distance when they were met by a deputation of Indians bearing a white flag, asking for a suspension of hostilities, and proposing to meet the officers and arrange terms of peace.

The commissioners appointed by the governor to treat with the Indians favored the proposition. Colonel Gilliam opposed it, as he believed it a ruse and done solely to secure time to convey their families and property to a place of safety. The commissioners thought the Indians were acting in good faith, and insisted that the proposition be accepted. Colonel Gilliam submitted, the governor having intended him to operate with the commissioners.

An agreement was made to meet the next day at the crossing of the Umatilla river. The command pushed on to the crossing and camped. The soldiers were tired and very hungry, not having had anything to eat since leaving their camp at Well Springs about thirty hours before. They remained in camp all next day as agreed; but no Indians came. It was only a stratagem on their part to remove their effects to places of safety.

Colonel Gilliam was very much irritated over it. He saw his whole plans defeated, and the war continued by the governor through his commissioners, one of them being a subordinate officer. He had planned to move to the Umatilla river, go into camp to rest and refresh the soldiers, and at night make a forced march to the Indian village, situated about twenty miles above on the river, surround it and on the dawn of morning demand an unconditional surrender.

In all probability he would have succeeded, and would then and there have ended the war. The mistaken policy of the governor was carried out; and the murderers of Doctor Whitman, who were almost within the grasp of the soldiers, were permitted to escape. On the morning after the delay, he proceeded on his march to Walla Walla.

Before traveling far, the road ascended to the high tablelands of that county, from which the foot of the Blue Mountains could be plainly seen; but all along before them was was a dense cloud of dust extending for miles along the foot of the mountains.

The Colonel knew at once that it was the redskins escaping with their stock; and it was useless to proceed any farther in that direction. He turned across the country to the Walla Walla river a couple of miles below old Fort Wallula and camped.

The command was short of ammunition; and Colonel Gilliam wrote a polite note to McBean, who was in charge of the fort at that time, asking him to furnish, for the use of the soldiers, a stated amount of powder and lead, he having previously learned that there was a large amount in store at that place. The officer returned and reported that the request had been refused.

The Colonel declared, "I will go myself," which he did and procured the necessary supplies. Here Sticcus, a noted Cayuse Indian and friend of Doctor Whitman, came to the camp. He came to represent his tribe and ascertain upon what conditions peace could

 be effected.

A council was held, consisting of Colonel Gilliam, the three commissioners appointed by the governor, to wit, General Joel Palmer, Doctor Newell and Major Lee. Sticcus represented to them that his people were very sorry that Doctor Whitman had been killed; that a large number of his people had been sick with the measles, and that many had died; that Joe Lewis, a half-breed among them, had induced the belief that Doctor Whitman had poisoned them, and would poison them all if he was not killed or driven out of the country; that his object was to kill all the Indians and take possession of the country.

As proof of his statements he would point to the sick and dead Indians, and also said that McBean, who then had charge of the Hudson's Bay Company's fort at Wallula, had offered Doctor Whitman a large price for his property, but that the Doctor refused to sell at any price, and that the only way they could get rid of him was to kill him.

He gave a history of the trouble from beginning to end, and the causes that brought it about, implicating McBean and others largely in the matter. He said his people were very sorry, but that they had been deceived and lied to until they had killed the best friend they had among the Whites; that they wanted peace, and that he had come to see at what terms they would grant it.

The commissioners told him that they could have peace by surrendering the murderers of Doctor Whitman. Sticcus told them that the Indians would surrender all of the murderers except Tom Ineea and three others. Colonel Gilliam proposed that if they would bring Joe Lewis, the half-breed, to them, they would release three of the assassins; but the commissioners objected to this, and told Sticcus that his people must surrender all the murderers before they would be permitted to live in peace in their country; but that, if they would surrender them, they might all return and be friends.

This message Sticcus promised to carry to his people, and also to use his influence to induce them to comply with the terms. To Colonel Gilliam's question as to where his people were at that time, he replied that they were at the mouth of the Tukanon on Snake river, stopping with the Palouse Indians.

Thus ended the first and only conference which the commissioners held with the Cayuse Indians. They were now whipped, and were fugitives fleeing for their lives. Owing to their wealth and influence with other Indian tribes of that country, they had yet a hope of uniting the other tribes in their behalf, and thus secure their assistance against the Americans (the Bostons as they called them).

The Cayuses were less in numbers than any of the other tribes; but they were much more intelligent and much wealthier. A number of

 them owned from one to three or four thousand horses each. They had been under the care and personal instruction of Doctor Whitman, who had taught them the value of property and many of the arts of civilization.

A number of them had small farms and houses to live in, and raised a large proportion of their support. They had intermarried largely with the Nez Perces and Walla Wallas, hence their hope of inducing these tribes to co-operate with and assist them. They were loath to surrender the murderers of Doctor Whitman, as some of them were their leading and most influential men.

The next morning after Sticcus left the soldiers' camp to go to his people, Colonel Gilliam ordered camp to be raised, and proceed to Whitman's Station. Here they beheld nothing but desolation and ruin, which was heartrending. The comfortable home and quarters provided by Doctor Whitman for himself, and the worn and weary immigrants and the helpless orphans whose parents had sickened and died by the way, had all been destroyed by the hand of ruthless and brutal savages, who had wreaked their vengeance first upon himself and his estimable wife, and then on the innocent victims whom he was feeding and sheltering.

The Doctor and all who perished with him were buried in one grave, i. e., a trench about seven feet square, and sufficiently deep to hold all the bodies. Into this the bodies of men, women and children were thrown until it was filled to within a foot of the surface, when a little earth was thrown over them. When the command reached the spot, they found large holes which had been dug by wolves and other animals, and a portion of the remains of the dead dragged out and devoured.

The bones were found and replaced in the grave, the holes filled, and the whole inclosed and covered so it could not be again disturbed. Most of the hair from the head of Mrs. Whitman was found some three or four hundred yards from the grave, where it had been taken by wolves or Indian dogs. The hair was carefully gathered up by the soldiers and taken with them to their respective homes as mementoes of a noble and beautiful woman.

The hair was well known, as it was of a beautiful golden color and very fine, and had been seen by many of them adorning the head of that beautiful and accomplished woman as she was assisting her husband in relieving the sick and distressed immigrants, gathering up the orphans and taking them to her own home.

Doctor Whitman was killed while butchering a beef. The Indians came to his place as they often did, seemingly friendly; and, without any warning to him or his assistants, shot them down. Mrs. Whitman heard the firing, and ran out of the house.

She threw up her hands and cried: "Oh, I knew it! I told him they would kill him. Joe Lewis came here on purpose to incite and influence them to kill him. I tried to get him to leave; but he

 always told me to hope for the better, that he would rather die than desert what he believed to be his post of duty."

After accomplishing their object at the corral, they went to the house, where all those who had not been killed had collected, and fired into the windows, wounding Mrs. Whitman. Several of the immigrants who were stopping there, some of whom were employed by the Doctor, had succeeded in reaching the house. The cowardly Indians were afraid to attack the inmates of the house by entering.

They called to Mrs. Whitman and told her that, if she and those with her would come out of the house, they should not be hurt, but that all should be sent to Fort Wallula and be unmolested. The inmates of the house saw the means of escape, and determined to trust the Indians.

They all came out; and as soon as the Indians could get between them and the house they were all shot down, except nine girls whom they took captive to become the slaves and wives of these savage murderers of their parents and friends.

Colonel Gilliam resolved to make the station his headquarters. He arranged and prepared the adobe house, formerly used by Doctor Whitman, to serve as a hospital for the sick and wounded, and arranged his camp so as to ward off any attack that might be made by the enemy.

After being in camp several days, a delegation of Nez Perces visited the camp, headed by the father of Ellis, their principal chief. Craig, an American trapper, who had married a Nez Perce woman, came with them. He was a shrewd and sensible man; and he with Ellis prevented the tribe from joining the Cayuses in a war against the Whites, whom they claimed to always have been friends to; and they pledged their word not to join the Cayuses, and said that they would not harbor the murderers of Doctor Whitman nor permit them to pass through their country.

After remaining at the camp for several days, they returned to their own country. The commissioners, after meeting with the Nez Perce delegation, saw that their work was done, and left under an escort furnished by Colonel Gilliam for The Dalles. Major Lee resigned and accompanied them; and Magone was elected to fill his place.

There was a general feeling of satisfaction with the entire command when they left. Not that the officers or soldiers had anything personal against them; but they realized that their mission had been worse than a failure. The authority for peace or war should have been left entirely in the hands of the commanding officer. If he was competent to command in war, and had studied thoroughly the situation, as every successful commander must, he is certainly better qualified to arrange terms of peace than

 others who knew but little about time condition of affairs.

The governor, no doubt, thought he was doing for the best in appointing the commissioners; but it was a great mistake, and a source of annoyance and confusion from the time they reached the command until their departure. It was also at times a sourCe of keen humiliation to the commanding officer, as one of his subordinate officers was also a commissioner, and in a certain sense his superior.

General Palmer, a man of much more ability than either or both of his colleagues, felt that the appointment of commissioners was a grave mistake; and as soon as he could, with credit to himself, he broke up the commission and returned home. He learned while in the field the needs of the little army; and, as chief quartermaster and commissary, he worked with untiring zeal and energy to furnish the troops with the needed supplies, and by his personal efforts succeeded.

The country owed more to him than to any other man or men for the successful prosecution and termination of that war; and he should be held in grateful remembrance for his services in the early settlement of this country.

Colonel Gilliam learned that the murderers of Doctor Whitman were still camped with the Palouse Indians at the mouth of the Takanon; and he resolved, if possible, to surprise and capture them at that place. He accordingly selected about two hundred of his best mounted men, and proceeded without delay to that point. After crossing the Touchet, and reaching the divide that separates the waters of that stream from the Tucannon, he ordered a halt at about two o'clock in the afternoon.

He remained there until after dark, when he raised camp and proceeded with all possible dispatch to the Tukcanon, and down it to the Indian camp, determined to reach there before daylight. He sent Morge, his guide and interpreter, with Jacob Rhinearson ahead of the command with instructions to examine the defiles and narrow passes along the trail, and that if anything occurred to report to him without delay.

When the command were nearing the Indian camp, one of the soldiers of Company A, contrary to orders and without the knowledge of the officers, stole on in advance of the command and scouts, and fired into a bunch of willows, supposing it to be an Indian wigwam. When the Colonel heard the report of the gun, he ordered a halt and sent out a reconnoitering party, who soon returned and reported as above stated.

The Colonel was informed by the guide that they were but a short distance from the Indian camp; and, believing they had heard the report, he feared they would lay in ambush for the soldiers, as the trail ran along near the stream, the banks of which were steep

 and thickly set with brush, and the valley narrow. He therefore ordered the men to dismount and remain until daylight.

At dawn they were ordered forward, and had proceeded but a short distance when they saw the Indian camp only about half a mile away down the river. The Indians had discovered the approaching troops; and the murderers again escaped, fleeing to the hills and across Snake river. The soldiers went quickly forward to the Indian camp, and found the men all gone except a few who claimed to be Palouses and friends, and protested that the Cayuses were not there, having left some weeks before, going to the Bitter Root country.

The Colonel ordered a portion of the troops to go down the stream to its mouth, amid then up the Snake river to where the main Indian trail crossed that stream; while he and the rest of the command proceeded directly on the trail to the same point.

On reaching the top of the hill that overlooked the river, he saw a large number of the Indians on the opposite side; for they had succeeded in crossing, and were beyond reach of the troops. The disobedience of one man had defeated the accomplishment of his plans; and a large river lay between him and the enemy, with no means of crossing it.

He accordingly ordered the command to retrace their steps to headquarters, then known as Fort Waters, directing that about five hundred' head of horses that were grazing near by be driven with them. The fort was named by the Colonel in honor of the Lieutenant-Colonel.

The command had not proceeded far when the Indians recrossed the river, collected all their available forces, numbering about five hundred men, and attacked the soldiers. The attack was made about twelve o'clock; and a running fire was kept up during the day until dark, when the troops reached a deep ravine thickly set with brush, where they were so arranged as to protect themselves and horses.

The horses belonging to the Indians were ordered turned loose, the Colonel preferring to lose the horses rather than some of the soldiers, which he saw was inevitable if he attempted to guard the horses. There the troops remained until morning, every man on guard. The fight was kept up at intervals through the night and until noon the next day. Just before reaching the Touchet the Indians all at once stopped firing and disappeared.

They were noticed however to proceed rapidly in front of the command. Mingo, the pilot, informed Colonel Gilliam that where the trail crossed the Touchet the stream was shaped like a horseshoe with the hills pointing clear down to the stream on each side; that the stream was thickly set with brush, the trail crossing in the center of the horseshoe; that the Indians no doubt were making for the points at the crossing to cut off the troops when they attempted to cross.

As soon as the Colonel learned the situation, he ordered the companies on the right and left to proceed with all possible dispatch and take possession of the points on each side of the ford. The troops on the left flank reached the point first, and drove the Indians back on the right. The Indians succeeded in reaching the brush, and had to be driver from their cover before the command could cross the stream.

The Colonel ordered Major Magone to take the troops on the right, and to charge the brush am dislodge the Indians, which he did after killing several of them. Here the Indians ceased fighting and left the command after twenty-four hours constant engagement. The troops had now been forty eight hours without food or sleep. None had been killed; but a number had been wounded.

Some had been mortally wounded, and a number so badly that they could not ride on horseback but had to be carried on litters on the shoulders of their comrades. The soldiers rested a short time and then proceeded on their march to Fort Waters.

After traveling a few miles, on account of time fatigue and the suffering of the wounded, Colonel Gilliam thought it advisable to camp and rest until the next morning. Here the boys rested amid refreshed themselves as best they Could on horsemeat, the most of them being without anything else. The next day about noon they reached Fort Waters after an absence of about eighty hours, having during that time eaten only three meals, two of which were composed of horsemeat, and had had only one night's sleep.

Twenty-four continuous hours of the time had been spent in a forced march to reach the enemy; and the twenty-four immediately following were spent in fighting amid the din of musketry and the demoniac yells of the savages. When the soldiers reached the fort they had not to exceed a dozen rounds of ammunition left, many of the guns being empty, as they had nothing to load them with; and the men were weak and exhausted. Colonel Gilliam now saw that to reach the enemy he must cross Snake river, and that to attempt it and maintain his base of supplies would be hazardous in the extreme.

The Indians in the late fight had in many respects a great advantage. The command was compelled to act on the defensive throughout the entire battle, except in one instance, at the crossing of the Touchet. The Colonel was somewhat apprehensive as to the effect on the surrounding tribes. He determined, in view of all the facts, to call for two hundred more men, and to secure and have them in the field as soon as possible.

He also determined to see the governor in person, and accordingly started with the detachment of troops that had been ordered to The Dalles for the supplies which were at that place awaiting an escort to protect them in their transportation to Fort Waters.

On the way down, when the troops were going into camp at Well Springs, the Colonel was accidentally killed by one of the teamsters. He usually attended to his horse himself; and the rope used in staking out the animal was always removed when on the march and put in the rear end of one of the wagons. That evening as usual he went to get the rope, and found it mixed up with other things and somewhat difficult to extricate.

The teamster saw his dilemma, and in attempting to assist him a loaded gun, with the cleaning rod in the barrel, put there contrary to orders, was discharged; and the rod struck the Colonel in the forehead, penetrated his head to the skull on the opposite side, breaking off about six inches from his head. The shock threw him full length on his back, with his arms thrown out, his eyes closed, looking as natural as life but for the rod protruding from his head. Death had been instantaneous, and without the appearance of the contraction of a muscle.

Death came in the noon of his manhood, with a bright future before him. Generous to a fault, quick to arrive at conclusions, and as quick to execute them, be was a born leader. His impulsive nature savored largely of humanity; and he could not bear to see man nor beast cruelly treated if it were in his power to prevent it. He was not schooled in the arts and science obtained from colleges; but he was learned in the school of practical knowledge.

Captain Maxon, being the senior officer, at once took command and ordered camp to be raised, and to proceed without delay to The Dalles, in order to send the body of Colonel Gilliam to his family, and to report to the governor. This report embraced in full the views of Colonel Gilliam.

Here the famous Indian chief, Kamiakin, met the command, and stated in council that be had learned that Colonel Gilliam was on his way to this place, and that he determined to meet him, as he wanted a talk with him. He expressed much sorrow at the Colonel's death, and stated to Captain Maxon that he and his people were friends of the Americans; that he would not harbor nor aid the murderers of Doctor Whitman in any way, and that they should not pass through nor remain in his country.

He made a sensible speech, which was reported to the governor and published in the Spectator, a paper published in Oregon City. He concluded his remarks by asking for a few plows, stating that his people had no means of cultivating the ground. There was at The Dalles a lot of plows sent out by the board of missions for the Warm Spring and Dalles Indians which bad not been distributed; and these Captain Maxon gave to Kamiakin, which greatly pleased him. He was a remarkable Indian both physically and intellectually,─ a veritable giant, being over six feet in height and likewise proportioned.

His appearance indicated that he had the strength of four or five ordinary men, and was very intelligent for an Indian. He was the Tecumseh of the coast; and had he attempted then, as he did afterwards, to unite the Indians against the Whites, the result would have been the massacre and depopulation of the entire country.

By return messenger Captain Maxon received instructions from the governor that he had issued a call for four companies of troops, and that they would be equipped and sent out with all possible haste, and directing him to proceed with the supplies to the main command and report to Lieutenant-Colonel Waters, commanding, together with letters of instructions sent through him to the colonel commanding.

The Captain had everything in readiness, and, as soon as he received the instructions, proceeded without delay to Fort Waters, reaching that place in good time, without any casualties. He reported the death of Colonel Gilliam, which they had not beard, and presented the lieutenant-colonel the letters of instructions from the governor.

Colonel Waters was directed to remain at the fort until the recruits came up, when other instructions would be given. They were under the command of Major Lee, who had been commissioned colonel. The old regiment, as soon as they learned the fact, were indignant over the appointment of Lee, and were loud in their denunciation because of the injustice done Colonel Waters, who was a faithful and efficient officer.

He had been on the ground but a few hours before he saw that it would not do for him to assume command; and that his only way out was to throw the blame of his appointment on the governor, and resign his commission as colonel of the regiment, which he did.

Colonel Waters immediately called the regiment together to know whom they desired should command them, when they elected him without a dissenting voice. Lee was elected lieutenant-colonel; and preparations were immediately made for an advance movement.

Colonel Lee was directed to take three companies and proceed to Spaulding's mission on Clearwater, and to ascertain if possible the location of the murderers, and, if any information could be obtained by him, to report to Waters by messenger; if not, to cross Snake river at that point and proceed down it to Red Wolf crossing, where the main command would meet him.

Colonel Waters proceeded directly to the mouth of the Palouse river, and crossing Snake river traveled up the Palouse a few miles and camped. He remained in camp for a few days, sending scouting parties in various directions; but they returned and reported that there were no Indians in that part of the country. He then proceeded up Snake river to Red Wolf crossing, and remained there awaiting the arrival of Lee.

When he arrived be reported that the murderers had all gone to the Bitter Root country. While at this point a messenger came from Walker and Fells, asking that an escort be sent to accompany them out of the country from Fort Colville.

Major Magone was directed to take sixty men and go to the mission known as the Spokane House, located among the Spokane Indians, from there send a messenger to them at Colville, and return to the escort at that point. This he did; and they were safely conveyed by the Major to The Dalles.

When Colonel Waters learned that the murderers of Doctor Whitman had escaped and heft the country, he saw that his work was done, and that the only course to pursue was to return to Fort Waters, leave a company of soldiers there, order the remainder to The Dalles, report to the governor and await his action.

The governor ordered the regiment home, and disbanded it. This ended a war fraught with difficulties and dangers on every hand.

The little colony of two or three thousand souls were isolated from the home government, with no probability of assistance from that source before it would be too late. Headed by Colonel Gilliam in the field, and General Palmer at home as commissary and quartermaster, was fought to a successful issue the great Indian war of this coast, a war, in view of all the circumstances and difficulties which attended it, with no parallel in all the Indian wars of the country.

There are many incidents connected with the war which are not here given; and no dates were preserved of the events. There were none killed on the battlefield; but some of the wounded, which numbered thirty or forty, died of their wounds afterwards.

After Colonel Gilliam was killed, the copies of his reports, letters and various correspondence and instructions from the governor and adjutant-general, being somewhat bulky and troublesome to carry, were carefully sealed and left with the quartermaster at The Dalles, he promising to keep them safely, and to deliver them to no person without an order.

When they were called for the package was found broken open, and everything of interest taken out by some unknown person or persons; and the quartermaster could not or would not give any information on the subject. It was then as it is now, two parties were aspiring to the management and control of the affairs of the colony. The party in power were jealous and afraid of the growing popularity of Colonel Gilliam, and sought if possible to "check it.

The opposite party thought to get control through the Colonel's influence; and many of the letters to him above-mentioned referred to these facts; and some of them were rich and racy. After his death they determined to get possession of these letters; and,

 learning by inquiry that they had been left at The Dalles, the representatives of one of the parties either purloined them or induced the quartermaster to give them up.

[North Pacific History Company. "Cornelius Gilliam and the Cayuse War," History of the Pacific Northwest Portland: North Pacific Publishing Company, 1889 Volume II, p. 335-343].

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CAYUSE WAR.

[George W. Fuller, A history of the Pacific Northwest. New York: Knopf, 1949, p. 157-169].

[Awaiting assistance from the Federal Government]  the settlers had fought their own war with the Cayuses. One of the first acts of the provisional legislature was the appointment of a peace commission to accompany the troops. This action was taken before Bishop Blanchet wrote his letter and enclosed Spalding's appeal and the petition of the Cayuse chiefs, asking that just this thing be done.

But the legislature sent an army, too, and the intentions of the double-headed expedition were doubtful. The peace commissioners were ordered to take counsel with the field officers regarding the policy to be pursued, and their presence with the army was an embarrassment to the aggressive commander.

Prompt military operations were impossible any way, on account of the distance of the Indian country from the settlements, ─ 300 miles, ─ and the difficulties of transport. Companies were sent up the river as fast as they could be assembled at Portland and equipped. A base was established at the Cascades and was named Fort Gilliam.

One company was detailed to build a road at the portage, a task at which the recruits were inclined to rebel. Colonel Gilliam went ahead with fifty men, as he had received news at the Cascades of the first skirmish of Major H. A. G. Lee with a band of hostile Indians at The Dalles. A mixed party of Cayuses and members of other tribes drove off a herd of 300 cattle belonging to emigrants.

Lee's men were unable to prevent the theft, lacking horses, though they attacked the Indians and killed several. Lee captured sixty Indian horses the next morning, when he went to the assistance of the Des Chutes chief, Siletza, who had been robbed for not joining the raiders.

The raid took place on January 8, only a few days after Ogden had passed The Dalles with the captives. The Cayuses, as previously

 noted, speedily concluded that the settlers meant to fight. Colonel Gilliam took command at The Dalles on January 24. The stockade erected there was named Fort Lee. Three additional companies soon arrived.

Colonel Gilliam, not yet burdened with the peace commission, took 130 men in pursuit of the raiders, as far as the Des Chutes river. Major Lee, with an advance detachment, located the Indians, who were moving their camp to the mountains. After a skirmish, in which he captured some horses, Lee started back to report and was ambushed in a ravine, but his men succeeded in hiding among the rocks and escaped injury from the volleys fired by the Indians and the stones which they showered down from the top.

Gilliam's entire force attacked the Indians on the following day, destroyed their camp, captured forty horses and some cattle and recovered $1,400 worth of stolen goods. Lee continued to harry the Indians for several days. In the general attack the only casualty suffered by the troops was one man wounded. The Indians fled, demoralized by the lusty yelling of the whites, which was far superior to their own, on which they were accustomed to rely, to frighten their enemies before attacking.

In the skirmishing, Lee lost three men killed and one mortally wounded. The Indian losses are unknown, but among the wounded was Edward Tilaukait.

Obstructive Peace Commission

Gilliam contrived to give this demonstration of the fighting qualities of his force before he received instructions to await the peace commission at The Dalles. The commission consisted of Joel Palmer, now Superintendent of Indian Affairs for Oregon and Commissary General of the army, Robert Newell, who was well qualified by his knowledge of Indian traits, and Major Lee.

When Palmer and Newell of the commission arrived, a conference was held, and the difficulty of reconciling the purposes of the expedition was made plain. The Governor's instructions were that the Indians must be informed that the Americans desired only the surrender of the Waiilatpu murderers, restitution for property stolen and the assurance that emigrants would not be molested in the future.

The commission favored calling a council of all the tribes, and Gilliam at first consented reluctantly to send the commission ahead, accompanied by about one hundred men. Then a suggestion came from the Governor that Gilliam might move his entire command to Waiilatpu, if he saw fit. He now had over 500 men and the cannon which McKay's Canadians had succeeded by heroic efforts in bringing around the Cascades in a snow storm. He was strong enough to advance.

Moreover, his men needed something to do. They chafed at serving merely as an escort to a peace commission. Some talked of turning back. Discipline was poor, ammunition was wasted in much useless shooting, and the men raided the commissary at will. All this indicated to a seasoned military man that it was time to get in motion. Rumors came in that the eastern tribes were uniting to resist the demands of the whites.

If the revolt threatened to become general, delay would be costly. Parleying would be interpreted by the Indians as a confession of weakness and would give them time to strengthen their defense. So Gilliam informed the commission that his entire command would accompany them, with the exception of a small garrison at The Dalles.

Two important letters had been dispatched by the commission, with no response. This silence was regarded by Gilliam as ominous, and he decided to hasten his march to Waiilatpu. One of these letters was for the Catholic mission on the Umatilla, and it was not known that the mission had been abandoned on February 19.

Bishop Blanchet had previously left for the lower country, and Fathers Brouillet and Leclaire removed to Fort Walla Walla on receiving information that the Cayuses were resolved to fight. After their departure, their property on the Umatilla was destroyed by the Indians.

The other message was sent to Superintendent McBean at the fort. The messenger was captured by the Cayuses, and presents of flags and tobacco intended for the Nez Percés were stolen, but the letter addressed to McBean was sent to him. The Indians hesitated to retain anything with his name on it.

This circumstance was most fortunate, as the packet contained a letter written in the Nez Percé language by Spalding. It called all the Nez Percé chiefs by name, assured them that the Americans wished only to take the murderers, told them of the military strength of the whites and urged them to meet the peace commission in council. It happened that two of the chiefs were at the fort when the letter was delivered.

They carried the message to their people, and the danger in this quarter which Gilliam feared was happily averted. McBean sent a reply to Gilliam, which was intercepted by the Cayuses and destroyed, but this was not important. It only kept the commission in ignorance of the course of events for a few days, and this lack of information served to speed up the advance.

It was well that Gilliam marched with his main force, for the Cayuses soon disclosed their intentions. Though the peace commission had to accept the whole army as an escort, they insisted on going ahead with a white flag. At noon on February 24, a large party of Cayuses appeared. They respected the white flag to the extent of sending a warning to keep off, whereupon the

 commissioners fell back upon the main force, and hostilities commenced.

About 400 Indians were seen, but one-fourth had come as spectators. These remained at a distance, on the hills. The strength of the combatants was too nearly equal for the Indians to risk a direct attack, and the country did not offer the cover suitable for sniping and ambushes, their customary mode of warfare. They contented themselves with riding furiously past the marching troops and making a great din.

Confidence in their prowess was not lacking, and some of them ventured too near and paid for their temerity. A medicine man who perhaps believed himself invulnerable exposed himself audaciously and was killed. Two chiefs, Gray Eagle and Five Crows, rode close to the Canadians, and the former, recognizing Tom McKay, made the mistake of threatening him. The Captain promptly shot Gray Eagle dead, and Lieutenant Charles McKay of the same company shattered Five Crows' arm with a rifle ball.

Gilliam disposed his lines on both sides of the wagons and cattle and moved steadily forward. Whenever the Indians seemed to be gathering to oppose the advance, the troops rushed them, with yells which caused as much surprise as in the previous encounter with the Des Chutes. The Indians were evidently dismayed at their losses and at the uninterrupted march of the Americans, and they withdrew in disorder to a respectful distance, leaving their dead and wounded on the field. The army went into camp at sunset.

Five Americans had been wounded. The situation of the troops was uncomfortable, for they had neither wood nor water, and they got no water until the following night, when the Umatilla river was reached, after marching all day, with the Indians on both flanks. On the second day of the hostile demonstrations, the spectators of the first day's running fight sent messengers to say that the Cayuses were divided and that they and some of the war party wanted peace and would agree to a council.

But now the peace commission were as anxious as the army to get water before halting to talk, and the march continued. After crossing the Umatilla, on the third day, the Americans could see that the crowds of Indians on the hills were thoroughly alarmed and that there was a real division of feeling among them. Stickas and others came in with offers of peace and were told to meet the commission at Waiilatpu.

In seizing McBean's letter to Gilliam, the Cayuses unwittingly injured their own cause, for if the commissioners had known that conditions were secure at Fort Walla Walla and that their message had reached the Nez Percés in time, they would have treated with the Cayuses, the majority of whom favored surrendering the murderers and making peace. As it was, the peace commission ceased to function at the moment when it could have succeeded, and the Cayuses were compelled to look to their defenses. On the next

 morning all the Indians had disappeared, a sure sign that they had gone to prepare for a campaign.

The army's march to Fort Walla Walla was without further interruption, and here several questions were cleared up. The peace message had reached the Nez Percés; Peupeumoxmox and his Walla Wallas remained friendly to the whites; Walker and Eells were safe in the north country, and the priests from the Umatilla were at the fort. The army moved up the Walla Walla river to the camp of Peupeumoxmox and found a friendly reception.

The next march took the army to Waiilatpu. Gilliam first visited the ruins, with two companies. What he saw there stirred his fighting spirit to a pitch which threatened any further peace proposals. The buildings had been burned, and everything

movable had been thrown into the fire. The orchard had been cut down, and the remains of the victims, exhumed by the wolves, were scattered about the grounds. The soldiers gathered up the bones and buried them all in one grave.

Gilliam moved his camp to the site of the mission and began to build a fort, to be named for Lieutenant Colonel James Waters. It was at this point that Meek and his party took the trail for the East. The army grumbled at having to labor on the fort, particularly on Sunday, and Gilliam declared that he would march against the Indians on the sixth and give battle.

But the peace commissioners forestalled him by sending William Craig, at whose place, near Lapwai, the Spaldings had sought refuge after the massacre, and Joseph Gervais of the Canadian company to meet a large body of Nez Percés who were reported to be approaching. Gilliam did not make his start, for Craig and Gervais returned on the sixth with 250 Indians, mostly Nez Percés, who asked to meet the commission.

They were received with cheers by the troops, and a council was held the next day. Chief Joseph spoke in place of Ellis, the head chief, who was in the buffalo country. Joseph's mother was a Cayuse, and he said that he spoke for the Cayuses present as well as for his own people. He said that the fact that his half-brother, Five Crows, had been wounded made no difference in his desire to keep his people out of the war. Half a dozen other Nez Percé chiefs and one Cayuse, Camaspelo, made friendly speeches.

The council resulted in an agreement by the Nez Percés to return home, to accept William Craig as resident agent and magistrate and to refrain from molesting travelers or the missionaries at Tshimakain. General Palmer promised that no whites would be permitted to settle on Indian lands without their consent and that a teacher and a blacksmith would be sent after the restoration of peace.

An American flag and tobacco were presented, and the Indians

 entertained the army in the evening with a war dance. Through all this Gilliam was wondering what the hostile Cayuses were doing and how many spies they had in his camp.

Cayuse Trickery

The next move was also arranged by Palmer, who induced the Nez Percé chiefs to visit the Cayuse camp, twenty-five miles away, to urge them to surrender the murderers. The army was to follow, a day behind, but it had marched only three miles when it was met by Stickas, bringing cattle, other property and money stolen from the mission. Gilliam was suspicious of the motives behind this peace offering and the request which accompanied it, that the army halt and hold a council.

Subsequent events proved that he was right. But he had to bow to the wishes of a majority of the commission, and the army went into camp. Captain English and forty-two men were sent back to Fort Waters with the cattle. This reduced the force with Gilliam to 158 men when he was again ready to march. Thus the first byplay of the Cayuses succeeded in checking the advance of the troops and drawing off one-fifth of their strength.

At the council, Stickas suggested that some compromises would be necessary. He stated that the Cayuses would not surrender Tawatowe or Tamsuky. The latter was wanted as the murderer of Whitman, but no one had accused Tawatowe, whose camp was on the Umatilla. The object in linking these names was doubtless to start an argument.

Then Gilliam introduced a new idea which broke up the council. He offered to accept Joe Lewis in place of five of the murderers. This might have seemed a good bargain for the settlers, but the peace commission had a definite program to carry out. Writing of Gilliam's proposal, Newell says in his notes, "Seeing such a move, I concluded to be off."

The commission left for Oregon City on March 11, and Gilliam was free to make his own plans. He started again for the Cayuse camp on the day when he got rid of the peace commission. Once more the Indians sought to gain time. Three Cayuses appeared with a flag and returned some of the horses stolen on the march from The Dalles to Fort Walla Walla. They said that Stickas had taken Joe Lewis into custody and was conducting him to Gilliam, when the half-breed had been rescued. The story was not believed, and no time was lost.

Near the head of the Touchet, a message was received from Tawatowe

declaring his intention to desert the hostiles and conveying interesting information. He reported that his own camp was above Gilliam's, on the Tucannon; that Tamsuky had gone into the Nez Percé country and that Tilaukait had gone down the Tucannon, with the intention of crossing the Snake into the Palouse country, where he would find allies.

Gilliam took the chance that this information was correct, as it proved to be, though he ran the risk of being surrounded. He made after Tilaukait, who was the principal chief of the hostiles and one of the murderers whose capture was most desired.

After a night march, Gilliam approached the Cayuse camp, not far from the mouth of the Tucannon, at dawn. He was met by an old Indian who claimed that the camp was not Tilaukait's, but belonged to the friendly Peupeumoxmox; Tilaukait had fled, leaving his cattle on the hills. Some of the cattle could be seen, and the old man said that the Americans might as well take them.

Only a few Indians were found in the camp, painted and armed, but apparently friendly. The old man's suggestion seemed a good one, and the troops climbed painfully up the steep side of the canyon through which the Tucannon flows at this point. When they reached the top, it was found that the stock there were mostly horses. The Snake was visible from this height, and the cattle could be seen swimming the river.

Tilaukait had made good his escape. He had also left another surprise for his pursuers. Gilliam realized that there was nothing to do but round up the five hundred head of stock and return to his camp on the Touchet, but he had marched only a mile when he was attacked by four hundred Palouses. The Cayuses had induced their allies to do the fighting while they ran away. After riding all night, the troops were obliged to conduct a marching fight all day and to pass another sleepless night.

They rested at a small stream, but the Indians fired into their camp incessantly, and the captured stock was turned out, to cause a diversion and in the hope that the Indians might be satisfied at recovering it. When the troops broke camp at daylight, however, the Indians still surrounded them. It was necessary to move along the crest of the hills, to avoid ambushes. The Indians attacked sharply and were driven back. The spirit of the troops was fine, and they sent out an interpreter to challenge the enemy to attack again.

A ford on the Touchet was the Americans' objective, and there were trees at this point, affording cover. The Indians and the whites seem to have thought of this at about the same time. Captain Shaw and twenty picked men charged ahead as the column neared the river and cut off the direct approach of the Indians, who then took a short cut to the stream, intending to follow it and to reach the timber first.

The official report says that the courage and determination of a few young men saved the army from heavy loss and perhaps from being cut to pieces. The race for the timber was won by the Americans, and the crossing was made. The Indians made no attempt to cross. The troops were at Fort Waters on the sixteenth, hungry as well as exhausted, for all they had eaten in three days was a small colt. Their casualties were ten wounded, one of whom died.

Closing Phase of the Campaign

Provisions were badly needed at Fort Waters, and it was decided to send half the force to The Dalles, to bring up a supply train. Gilliam went with the two companies which were detailed for this service, in order that he might get in touch with the Governor. In their camp at the Springs beyond the Umatilla, he was taking a rope out of a wagon when it caught on the trigger of a gun, and he was instantly killed.

From The Dalles, Major Lee and Captain McKay conducted his remains to the Willamette valley. Instead of promoting Lieutenant Colonel Waters, the Governor sent Lee back as Colonel. He accepted the commission reluctantly, possibly with a plan in mind which he carried out on reaching Fort Waters. Lee was a popular officer, and the Governor's action met with more approbation than blame. It had been the hope of Governor Abernethy that the first regiment of volunteers would prove sufficient to occupy the Indian country until the arrival of aid from California.

The United States transport Anita entered the Columbia on March 16, but it brought no assistance. Instead there was a recruiting officer on board, who had been sent, in ignorance of the events in Oregon, to raise a battalion for service in Mexico! The information brought by Lee and the report from Capt. H. J. G. Maxon, commanding at The Dalles, convinced the Governor that the settlers must make further sacrifices, and he issued a proclamation calling for three hundred additional men, to be mustered in by Colonel Lee at Portland on April 18.

The women organized to provide clothing, and a band of young women issued an announcement that they would show no favor to any young man who refused to enlist and that they would defend the claims and rights in the valley of all who joined the army. The fear of losing their land claims had kept many single men from going.

Lee's reluctance to accept the command was due to his knowledge that there were politicians who would seek to injure him, but he found that he had the support of many staunch patriots. Jesse Applegate offered to make almost any sacrifice, if Lee would take the field and seek a prompt decision with the Indians.

Officers were resigning because their private interests were suffering while they were away, and there were desertions of enlisted men who were tempted to enrich themselves by running off Indian horses, which they drove over the Mount Hood road. The operation of the commissary was uncertain.

But Captain Maxon took a supply train to Fort Waters and reported that the men there had improved their condition, having found a cache of wheat and repaired the grist mill. They had slaughtered a large quantity of beef and had dried it, in preparation for a campaign.

Lee left The Dalles with re-enforcements and received news from Waters, en route, that Tawatowe, Otter-Skin-Shirt, Stickas and Camaspelo had returned to the Umatilla with their stock, and professed friendship, and that about one hundred Nez Percés were at Waiilatpu, with a request that a new head chief be named, in place of Ellis, who had died of measles, with sixty other members of the tribe, while on the buffalo hunt. Lee went ahead of the relief column to hold a council with the Nez Percés.

Palmer had resigned as Superintendent of Indian Affairs, on account of his burdensome duties as Commissary General, and the Governor had persuaded Lee to act in his place. Richard, who had accompanied Whitman to the States in 1835, was made head chief, and Meaway was appointed war chief, probably because of his peaceable reputation.

The Indians did not oppose Lee's wishes in these appointments, but. Richard was presently assassinated, and they held an election of their own. Lee also held a council with the Walla Wallas and the Cayuses who had returned and made it clear that the Americans would hold the country until reparation had been made and the murderers had been surrendered. A fresh source of uneasiness was the act of the legislature withholding ammunition from the Indians without distinction of friend or foe.

The Walla Wallas resented this, and Peupeumoxmox threatened to go over to the hostiles. But he reconsidered, and all the Indians near the forts were ready to keep the peace when they saw fresh companies arriving from the Willamette and learned that a regiment of United States riflemen might come from the East at any moment.

Lee found that Waters had acquitted himself most creditably. In the period of waiting, he had effected a remarkable improvement in the troops at Waillatpu. It was plain that he deserved to retain the leadership, and Lee magnanimously turned over the command to him and sent his own resignation as Colonel to Governor Abernethy. This act united the troops in a demand that Lee serve as Lieutenant Colonel, and he consented.

On May 17, over four hundred men set out to find the hostile Cayuses, who were supposed to be somewhere in the Nez Percé country. The expedition was hampered by the reticence of the friendly Indians as to Tilaukait's movements until he was well out of their country, but a considerable amount of his stock was captured, and the Nez Percés assisted in driving it to Fort Waters. Before returning to Waiilatpu, Waters sent two companies to Lapwai, to remove the family and property of the Indian Agent, Craig, who felt unsafe.

Another company was sent to escort the Tshimakain mission families from Fort Colville, where they had taken refuge.

At Fort Waters, it was understood that the campaign must close. The men were needed in the Willamette valley, to harvest the

 crops. No further pursuit of the murderers was possible, for they could easily hide in the mountains all summer. Lee called for volunteers to remain at Waiilatpu and The Dalles till September 15, pledging several of his friends to return by that time with families to settle the country.

He secured more than the fifty volunteers required and obtained the Governor's sanction to the forfeiture of the Cayuse lands. The only missionaries remaining were the Catholics, and Lee notified them that they must not operate missions until their safety could be guaranteed by the presence of United States troops. The Catholics thereupon abandoned their plans to build, but several of the priests remained in the country, farming, or traveling about with the Indians, as French Canadians might do with entire safety.

The regiment started home, and many of the men scurried away without asking to be formally discharged or taking any thought, to secure their pay. Lee's connection with the army ceased at Fort Waters, and he declined to accept the commission as Lieutenant Colonel which had been forwarded to him, and with it the pay. The volunteers who remained in the Walla Walla country got along very well without help from the commissary, which could raise no more funds, for they found some large caches of grain and raised three hundred bushels of corn.

The Indians stayed quiet, and the 1848 emigration was unmolested. The murderers and their friends had no ammunition and kept to the mountains.

Patkanim's Plot ─ Pursuit of Deserters

The capture of the Whitman murderers was the unfinished business of the Cayuse war. Governor Lane, whose active duties commenced in March, 1849, could only await the long expected regiment of riflemen. When it arrived, reduced in numbers and exhausted, no barracks were ready, and the men were housed for the winter at Oregon City. Meanwhile Lane had his hands full of minor Indian troubles.

He restored peace between the Klickitats and Walla Wallas and mended some difficulties near the settlements. In May, 1849, a war cloud appeared on the sound, and Lane went north with the United States forces, which still consisted only of Lieutenant Hawkins and the five men of the Governor's escort who stayed with him all the way to Oregon. But he took arms for the settlers.

Chief Patkanim of the Snoqualmis was responsible for the outbreak, the first object of which was the capture of Fort Nisqually.

An armed force of Indians gathered outside the fort, and Patkanim, who was admitted, said that they were come merely to adjust a domestic difficulty with the Nisqually chief. One of the Company's men accidentally discharged a gun, and this seems to have been

 mistaken by the Indians for a signal from Patkanim. A rush was made for the gate, but the guards closed it.

An American settler who was outside and did not respond to the call, "All hands in!" was killed, and another was wounded. When the Indians saw that the bastions had been manned, they withdrew. Patkanim slipped away during the excitement.

If the plot had succeeded, the Indians would have secured a large stock of arms and ammunition, and a bloody war on the settlers would have followed. The settlers erected blockhouses, and by the time Lane reached Tumwater news overtook him of the arrival of the U. S. propeller Massachusetts with two companies of artillery. Lane sent one company north, and Fort Steilacoom was built, in August.

Two of the guilty Indians were surrendered, in September, and were executed, but one of the artillerymen was murdered a few months later, and his assassin was never identified.

The discovery of gold in California led to numerous desertions from the army, and to prevent wholesale losses the regiment of riflemen then at Oregon City were ordered to new barracks at Vancouver, in the spring of 1850. Before the removal, however, 120 of the men hit the trail to California. They pretended to be a government expedition and got supplies on credit from the settlers. Less than half the deserters succeeded in crossing the Rogue river, after a fight with the Indians, and the number who reached the Sacramento valley is not known.

Governor Lane and Colonel W. W. Loring of the regiment hastened in pursuit. Lane took a volunteer party of mountaineers with him, and a detachment of the faithful troops followed with the pack train. Groups of the deserters were found in a starving condition in the Umpqua valley. In one instance, they had just drawn lots for a victim to be slaughtered for food. All the deserters who were found gladly returned with Lane. Loring took the trail of the other party into the snows of the Siskiyous and captured seven stragglers.

Hanging of Cayuse Murderers

Governor Lane had just returned when news came that the Cayuse murderers had given themselves up, and he went with an escort to The Dalles, to arrest them. The Indians who surrendered were Tilaukait, Tamahas, Klokamas, Quiamashouskin and Tsaiachalkis. They maintained a proud bearing, and as they displayed no feeling of remorse they were surprised at any acts of kindness on the part of their guards.

When offered food from the soldiers' mess, Tilaukait said, "What hearts have you to offer me of your food, whose hands are red with

 your brother's blood?" Though the prisoners must have expected a death sentence, they seem to have cherished the hope that lawyers familiar with the ways of the white man's justice might do something for them, as they offered fifty head of horses for a successful defense.

This offer, their behavior and the fact that one of them was not known to have been connected with the murders aroused speculation as to their motive in surrendering. When questioned on the subject, Tilaukait said, "Did not your missionaries teach us that Christ died to save his people? Thus we die, if we must, to save our people." Edward S. Curtis was told by the Nez Percé chief Yellow Bull and his Cayuse wife, a daughter of Tamahas, that after the Waiilatpu murders, there was disagreement among the Indians as to the persons who had originated the plot and should therefore assume the responsibility.

This disagreement still existed after two years of wandering in the mountains, and there was much discord in the tribe. Tilaukait finally decided that five men who had been accused should shoulder all the blame and sacrifice themselves for the welfare of the tribe." There was also the certainty that the Americans would continue to increase in numbers, and United States troops had actually come. In addition to the riflemen, there were two companies of artillery, which had been sent by sea from California.

The last hope of the wandering Cayuses was gone, and the offer of peace on the surrender of the murderers was kept before them by Governor Lane, who had carried on negotiations from the time of his arrival, though unable to do anything else.

The prisoners were confined on an island in the river, at Oregon City. From the jury were excluded all older settlers or men who had reason for being embittered against the Indians. The trial was fair, and the prisoners were ably defended, the grounds of the defense being that at the time of the murders the laws of the United States had not been extended to cover Oregon, that the deaths had been brought about by a combination of circumstances and that the evidence of the witnesses was uncertain and conflicting.

There was no evidence against Quiamashouskin except the fact that he gave himself up. The jury, however, rendered a verdict of guilty, and the Indians were sentenced to be hung on June 3. Three of them were visibly dismayed at the verdict. Hanging was abhorrent to the Indians; as chiefs and warriors, they had supposed they would be shot. Joe Meek, who acted as executioner, said that on the gallows Quiamashouskin begged to be stabbed, but Meek ended the argument by releasing the drop with his tomahawk.

Peace had presumably been established in the Territory, but Protestant missionary work was ended east of the Cascades, and settlers were not permitted to take up land until treaties could be concluded with the tribes. An effort to induce the legislature

 to close all the Catholic missions failed. `The Catholic missions which remained were all in the North and had not been involved in the Indian troubles.

The Cayuse tribe was broken, its spirit and prestige gone. Tilaukait's men, deprived of leaders and lands, went to the Umatilla, where the other Cayuses lived. In a short time, the once arrogant tribe lost both its name and its language, beside dwindling in numbers. The expenses of the Cayuse war were finally met with an appropriation of $100,000 by Congress, but great indignation was occasioned by the acts of the United States military authorities in reserving lands for the posts which they established in 1849 and 1850.

A reservation at The Dalles ten miles square was declared; the reservation at Vancouver was four miles square, and at Astoria lands were included which had been improved by settlers. A tract for an arsenal was taken at Milwaukie, and when the settlers learned that it would include the land claims of William Meek and Henderson Luelling, indignation ran high.

These men took 700 fruit trees overland in 1847 and were successful in transplanting them. Their nursery was one of the most important enterprises' in the new country. The settlers were delivered from this military usurpation through the efforts of their delegate to Congress. At the same time, they asked the government to withdraw what was left of the regiment of riflemen, and gave notice that they preferred to continue fighting their own wars.

[George W. Fuller, A history of the Pacific Northwest. New York: Knopf, 1949, p. 157-169]

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THE CAYUSE WAR

Eva Emery Dye,"The Cayuse War," McLoughlin and Old Oregon, a chronicle. Fifth edition. Chicago: A. C. McClurg and Company, 1903, p. 350-364].

At the peril of his life Peter Skene Ogden went into the Indian country and despatched couriers calling for a council. The chiefs came to Fort Walla Walla to treat with their old friend, the fur-trader, and if possible to ward off the retribution they feared from the angry Bostons. The great fire of driftwood from the Spokane forests roared in the chimney. The chiefs spread their palms to the blaze and waited.

Ogden noted a troubled look in certain faces, but he was not there to secure the murderers. He only hoped to secure the unhappy captives before news came up from the lower country. His short,

 fat figure, in marked contrast with their tall ones, appeared still more rotund from his bulging, ample cloak. His otter-skin cap lay on the floor. With the grizzly locks trailing over his shoulders and his keen eye fixed on theirs, the trader began:

"Friends and relations, I regret to see that all the chiefs are not here. Repeat to them what I say. We have been among you for thirty years without shedding blood. We are traders, and of a different nation from the Americans. But recollect, we do not supply you with ammunition to kill the Americans. They are the same color as ourselves, speak the same language, are children of the same God.

"Their cruel fate causes our hearts to bleed. Besides this wholesale butchery, have you not robbed the Americans passing peacefully through your country and insulted their women? You tell me your young men did this without your knowledge. Why do we make you chiefs, if you have no control over your young men? You are unworthy the name of chief. You, hot-headed young men, you pride yourselves on your bravery. You think no one can match you. Do not deceive yourselves.

"If the Americans begin war, war will not end until every one of you is cut off from the face of the earth. Your people have died. So have others. Dr. Whitman did not poi~n them. God commanded they should die. We are weak mortals. We must submit. It is merely advice that I give you. I promise you nothing. We have nothing to do with your quarrels. On my return, if you wish it, I will see what can be done for you. I do not promise to prevent war. Deliver me the captives. I will pay a ransom. That is all."

Silence followed for a space of ten minutes. Then Tauitau rose up slowly and spoke with deliberation: ─ "The ─ fur-traders ─ are ─ married ── to ─ Indian ─ women. They ─ are ─ our ─ brothers. I ─ cannot ─ refuse ─ my ─ brother's ─ request."

Another silence; then Tiloukaikt rose, tall and dark, dignified and savage: ─ "They are our brothers. They bury their dead along

with ours. Chief your words are weighty, your hairs are gray. We have known you a long time. You have had an unpleasant journey to this place. I cannot keep the families back. I make them over to you, which I would not do to another younger than yourself."

"I have nothing to say," said Pio-pio-mox-mox. "I know the Americans are changeable. Still, I agree with my brother. The whites are our best friends; we follow your advice. The captives shall be given up."

All day the council lasted, and at night they still talked by the flickering light of the driftwood fire. Outside, the snow beat up against the windows.

Blankets, shirts, guns, ammunition, to the value of $500, lay on

 the council floor.

"There," said Ogden, as an attendant displayed the tempting array, "these are for you. Hasten, now; bring me the captives and receive the ransom."

On Christmas Eve the messengers were speeding over the new-fallen snow to Lapwai, to the Umatilla, to every lodge where a prisoner lay waiting her uncertain doom.

What joy to the poor captives, terrified by old women fierce as Waskema, who came round flourishing their dull tomahawks, only too eager to put them to death; girls who had seen their fathers slain, women who had been snatched from their husbands and brothers, all to be dragged to lonely lodges, a prey to savage passion.

It was yet early morning when the chiefs came to the lodge of Five Crows. On a couch of costly skins lay the beautiful white girl. For a savage Five Crows had been kind to his white wife.

"Don't go," he pleaded. "All horses," he waved his hand toward the herds on the hills, "all cattle," feeding in the lower meadows, "all skins," they were heaped in the lodge of this rich Indian, "all slaves," there were dozens at his command, "all house," close by stood Five Crows' log house with glass windows, "all land," with a gesture toward the young woman ─ yours."

She only shook her head.

"Then let me go with you, live with white people," begged the Indian suitor.

Still she shook her head.

He waved the staring domestics back. With his own hands the Cayuse chief broiled her venison, and brought her tea, and knelt before her couch of skins. Tradition says he was a handsome Indian, taller than his half brother, Chief Joseph, and fairly educated. But the white girl dreaded his eagle plumes and raven hair; she shrank from the touch of his moccasined toe, the brush of his painted robe. She did not hate, she feared him.

The impatient chiefs outside kept calling and spatting their hands, "Oh, Five Crows! Five Crows! Five Crows!

Those voices seemed her deliverance. Still flushed with fever, she tottered toward the door. Five Crows sprang to her assistance, pleading at every step. He spread a new blanket and a tanned robe on the saddle of her horse ─ and still he would detain her. His was a lover's parting, reluctant, seeking every pretext for delay. The chiefs interfered and ended the scene. Supported by her savage escort, the poor girl reached the fort.

Mr. Ogden came out. The tender-hearted trader lifted her in his arms as a father would.

"Thank God; I have got you safe at last! I had to pay the Indians more for you than for all the other captives, and I feared they would never give you up."

Scarcely were the captives in his hands when a rumor reached the fort─" The Americans are coming up the Columbia."

"Tell it not to the Indians. It will be our death," said Ogden.

It turned his hair white to think of the situation with all those suspicious Indians camped around the ill defended fort. The Spaldings had not arrived. Dare he wait? They might be cut off. Two days and two nights Ogden paced the fort and listened; he dared not sleep. Then came the Spaldings, escorted by their Nez Percés from Lapwai. Ogden paid their ransom and hurried them into the ready boats.

It was the morning of New Year's Day of 1848.

"The wind is cold; cover, cover," said old Sticcas, taking off his cap for one of the rescued ones. "Cover ears," he said, compassionately tying his handkerchief over the head of another.

"How fiercely yon Indian rides!" exclaimed Spalding, as the boats shoved off with their shivering passengers.

A howling horseman came into sight, lashing his pony, white with foam, with the cruel double thonged whip tied to his wrist. Another came, and another, fifty infuriated Cayuses dashed down to the water and followed along the river's edge with angry shouts. They had caught the rumor, "The Bostons are coming." The trader and his ransomed had but escaped.

Ogden prudently kept his boats on the farther side, and his Canadians rowed for life. It was an exciting moment.

"Sing," cried Ogden, in tense agitation. The Canadians struck up the spirited ─ "Sur la fenille ron ─ don don don," to steady their strokes as they shot away.

Outwitted, sold, the wrathful Indians jerked up their steeds by the cruel horsehair bits. Blood dripped with the foam. The usual Indian adieu is a gay yell. This was a taunting, scornful, satanic laugh, as they waved their tomahawks and watched them, singing, glide beyond their grasp. Then they turned to the lodge of Pio-pio-mox-mox and threatened his life, because he and his Walla Wallas would not arm to meet "the Bostons."

Even Tauitau said: "If the Bostons come to fight us I will not raise my gun. I will sit in my house. If they will, they may kill me. I shall not resist."

The Nez Percés refused to join them. Only Five Crows and the

 murderers were left to lead the hostiles.

Swiftly gliding down the Columbia the rescued ones met the fifty riflemen landing at the Dalles. Ogden was amazed at the daring of this handful.

"Go back with us, go back," he urged. "You can do nothing. All the tribes will unite against you. The idea of sending a party up there this winter is the wildest notion I ever heard of. You had better burn the mission buildings here and go back to the valley."

But the Americans firmly answered, " No," and proceeded to fortify the mission at The Dalles.

Worried, troubled, nervous from loss of sleep, Peter Skeen Ogden went on to Fort Vancouver. Douglas immediately despatched a letter to the anxious settlement at the Falls.

It was Sunday morning when the courier arrived and found the governor and his people at church. The welcome message was read from the pulpit:

Mr. Ogden has this moment arrived with three boats from Walla Walla, and I rejoice to say he has brought down all the women and children from Waiilatpu and Mr. and Mrs. Spalding. . . . Mr. Ogden will visit the Falls on Monday. . .

In haste, yours respectfully,

JAMES DOUGLAS.

Portland was but a village in the woods, but it fired a salute as the boats went by; again the salute rang out as the gray-haired old hero landed his burden of sixty-two souls at the city by the Falls. Governor Abernethy received the rescued ones, and in the name of humanity thanked the courageous chief factor for his inestimable service.

Many of the women were nervous wrecks. Dr. McLoughlin received some; Governor Abernethy some; the doors of every home were open, as borne on beds they were distributed among the settlers.

Fired at the sight, scarcely better equipped than the patriots at Valley Forge, the little army of five hundred pressed into the Indian country. Fort Vancouver looked on amazed as the daring boats went by.

"Wildest attempt I ever heard of," muttered Ogden, who had returned to the fort. "All the Indians of the country will be upon us. The Cayuses, the Walla Wallas, and the Nez Percés are so intermarried they will fight as one."

The old chief factor's hands trembled. More than anything else the

 company dreaded an Indian war. It meant the ruin and rout of their business, the breaking up of fur brigades, and the end of big returns to London.

"I hear that they have prohibited the sale of ammunition to the Indians," continued Ogden, shaking his disapproving locks. "They even found fault with me because I paid them a few handfuls for portage at the Dalles."

"Prohibited the sale of ammunition!" exclaimed Douglas. "That is a dangerous measure. It will only excite them more and more. They will starve without ammunition, and distress may drive them to dangerous courses. They will prey upon the settlements and slaughter cattle when they can no longer hunt the deer."

"Just so, just so," assented Ogden from his lookout on the porch. "If they tumble the nations down on their heads we are not to blame. There goes another boat-load."

With the whoops of the old voyagers McKay's men dragged the only piece of artillery, a rusty nine-pounder, around the Cascades in a driving snow.

The painted Cayuses were out on their painted horses, galloping on the hills. It was a thrilling sight. Every eminence was filled with Indian men and women, as on a grand review, to witness the defeat of the Bostons. They looked with contempt on these immigrants. Had they not borne with meekness and patience the insults and robberies of the preceding autumn, and autumns and autumns before?

"Ho-ha-ha-ha-ha─a!" laughed the demoniac chorus on the hills. "The Bostons are women. We will kill them with clubs. We will go to the valley and steal their women. Never shall the Americans drink of the waters of the Umatilla."

"Ho-ho-ho-ho─o!" screamed War Eagle, chief of the dreamer-drummers, prancing out in face of the foe. "I am a great tew-at. I bear a charmed life. I can swallow molten lead; powder and shot cannot harm me!"

"Well, then, let him swallow this," said Tom McKay, raising his silver-mounted rifle. One click─ the boasted headlong bit the dust. A shot from another shattered the arm of Five Crows. He dropped his gun ─ like smoke the Indian cavalry disappeared, demoralized by the sudden and unexpected loss of their leaders whom they had supposed invulnerable. In Homeric song the leaders fought the battles; so here in this Pacific Iliad. The spectators melted from the hills.

"That is the Indian of it; they fight and flee," exclaimed the impetuous American, Colonel Gilliam. "They did it in the Black Hawk War, they did it in the Seminole."

Where hundreds had lately stood, now a barren and apparently unoccupied country stretched out in silence. But every rock and ravine and hillock and sand-hollow along the old immigrant road sheltered a foe. All day until sunset they sprang from their ambuscades in the masterly attacks and retreats of Indian warfare.

All day the Indian fusees picked off the volunteers in their march to the upper country. At night for miles ahead the Cayuse signal-fires burned like sleepless red eyes on the hilltops. Without water, almost without food, without tents, and half clad, in the dead of winter, the little army hurried on toward Waiilatpu. Exhausted, famished, chilled, the Americans reached the camp of Pio-pio-mox-mox. The old chief came out to meet them. At his belt hung Siskadee's shot-pouch.

"We are not one with the Cayuses," he said. "We have no part in the war."

"We are glad to hear it," answered Colonel Gilliam. "We hear that you fought with Lieutenant Fremont in California and that you acted bravely. Your conduct convinces tis that you are an honorable Indian. Have you beef to sell?"

Pio-pio-mox-mox drove up his herds. In an hour the savory odor of kouse and bouillon filled the camp. The old chief remained to watch proceedings, and smoked his pipe in a long and friendly talk. Over toward Waiilatpu a few thin lodge-fires rose against the sky.

"That is the spot," said the old chief, pointing. "My people were not there."

The volunteers found only a heap of burned adobes on the site of the Whitman mission. Torn letters, shattered glass and china lay among the trampled poppies. Even the orchard was tomahawked away. Wolves had uncovered the shallow graves, and the remains of the martyr-missionary and his household lay scattered on the wintry plain. Tresses of tangled gold identified the disfigured brow of the queenly Joan of the West.

The bodies were gathered up and reinterred, and above the mound of his little Helen Mar the old trapper, Joe Meek, swore vengeance as he hastened on to Washington. Six weeks later he met his old comrade, Captain Bridger, in a mountain pass.

"And my little Mary Ann?" he asked.

"She, too, is dead," said the trapper by the camp-fire.

Poor old Sticcas! evading the gibes and threats of his countrymen, he hunted up the doctor's cattle, and collecting what he could of the stolen property, delivered them to the volunteers, ─ money,

 watches, books, and then with Tauitau left for the mountains to wait till the war was over.

"Stay a moment," cried the colonel. "Before you go, tell me, where are the murderers?"

With a frightened look to see that he was unobserved by his people, old Sticcas waved his hand and whispered, "Fleeing up the Tucanon."

Colonel Gilliam had thrown up a fort out of the burned adobes. Leaving his wounded there, he continued the pursuit. On the fifth day, after an all-night march, he surprised a camp at the mouth of the Tucanon. An old man came out with one hand on his head and one on his heart.

"We are the people of Pio-pio-mox-mox," he said in bad Chinook; "we are friends."

"He lies. It is a cloak," muttered the impatient volunteers.

The camp was full of painted warriors, apparently just making their toilet for battle.

Still the old man reiterated, "We are Pio-pio-mox mox tilicum [people]."

The volunteers had their fingers on their triggers.

"Don't shoot," commanded the colonel. "Where are the murderers?"

"Fled to the land of Red Wolf," pantomimed the Indian.

"Fleeing, fleeing, fleeing," muttered the disappointed colonel. "Who can catch an Indian in his native hills?"

"This is their stock ─ take it," said the old man, waving his hand around toward the cattle─ Tiloukaikt's cattle.

The hills were covered with herds. Riding up the precipitous highlands, the little army looked down on the winding Snake. It was full of horses and cattle swimming over by thousands and ascending the opposite bank.

"Collect the stock," commanded the colonel, Dark faces peeped and whispered in the shadow of the camp.

The volunteers set out to drive five hundred head before them to Fort Walla Walla.

A flash, a whoop; the land was alive with Indians in all the fury of savage warfare. The painted camp was out, the Palouses sprang from the very earth, the herds were lost in the fierce-running battle of the Tucanon.

For thirty hours the firing never ceased. At last the struggling, fighting, fleeing remnants of the almost entrapped Americans escaped beyond the Touchet. After the hand-to-band struggle at the ford the confusion of battle gave way to the death.wail on the farther shore. Nothing but the superior arms and ammunition of the Americans saved them from utter rout.

"Something must be done, and done at once," ran the report sent to Governor Abernethy, "or we shall have the Indians in the ~alley in a month. There are one hundred and fifty of our boys in the very heart of the enemy's country almost without ammunition and wholly without bread."

Just then the United States transport "Anita" entered the Columbia, seeking recruits for the Mexican War raging below. The captain whistled when he discovered Oregon herself in arms.

"Our settlers are scattered throughout the valleys," said Governor Abernethy," many of them isolated and lying in such a position that they could be swept off in a night, and the Indians be in the mountains out of reach next morning. Our policy is to keep the Indians busy in their own country, and by this means keep them out of the valley, but we have no money, no munitions of war. Our patriotic volunteers are destitute of clothing, tents, and provisions, even while in the field. Our powder is gathered up in half-pounds and parcels as the settlers have brought more or less in for their own use. This will soon give out."

The transport left the Columbia and returned to Monterey, promising to get word to the United States as soon as possible. Then more than ever isolated, Oregon felt itself at the end of the world. How long would it take for an envoy to reach the capital? How long for a ship to double Cape Horn?

The measles had followed the track of the immigrants and found a nesting place in the Willamette valley.

Whole Indian villages lay prostrate. Old Waskema in distress flitted from camp to camp; she squatted by every fire. With her knotted cane in hand she stood on the edge of the forest and pointed toward the settlements ─" Skookum tum-tum gone. Squaw man stay. Quick in the night, quick, cut down the Boston people," hoarsely she whispered to Koosta, chief of the Molallas.

In old time Waskema told the fortunes of chase and of battle. Could she still divine? Koosta sat in his smoky hut and watched her with the luminous eyes of a hunted deer. But he made no move. The moans of his children filled the hut. Waskema flew wild, stamping her feet and tearing her hair. "Shame! shame! shame!" she cried.

"Sick, all die. No medicine, no food, no powder. Boston take land, take game, poison us, starve us." Her frenzy was fearful to look

 upon. A sick baby stretched its thin hand for a wee little muskrat toasting on the coals. A skinny old man came in with a sack of bread, begged at Champoeg.

Old Waskema's tamanowas (spirit) had a strange charm for the young men. Down in the damp marsh grew the Oregon yew; they were shaping it into arrows. She sanctioned what they desired ─ bloodshed and plunder.

Eighty Klamaths came over the southern mountains, and camped at the head of Abiqua creek, a branch of the Willamette, near Koosta's camp. Another force camped in the passes of the Callapooias ─ waiting. The Warm Spring Indians hung like a cloud at the foot of Mt. Jefferson. The Klickitats were riding down the zigzag mountain passes ready to join them.

It was March, raw and windy and squally with snow, when the howling Klamaths sounded the whoop on the hills. They began shooting cattle, raiding cabins, and closing round the house of the .Hyas tyee, the principal white man, into whose log house the frightened settlers fled. A postman came in sight; he put spurs to his steed and gave the alarm up the valley.

Before sunset sixty men and boys had chased the Klamaths to their rock-walled, brush-covered camp on the Abiqua bottom. From a rocky ledge at early dawn there came a flight of arrows. The American rifles blazed. In the cold and drizzling rain lay the dead. Among the fallen warriors was an Indian woman, withered and shrunken, with a drawn bow in her dying grasp. It was old Waskema.

The Klamaths fled over the southern mountains. The rising in the valley was quelled, but the measles went on silently, surely, depopulating the camps of the red men.

Governor Abernethy issued a third call for men. With dismay the Indians beheld a second army advancing into the upper country. Already their herds were ruined, ammunition gone, their families scattered. The Cayuses as a people had no heart in the war. Every day at sunset the mothers lamented the act that had brought this trouble upon them. The opposition narrowed to the few who had participated in the massacre, and some sympathizers who had assisted their escape. In April the army summed up the situation:

"Where are the murderers?"

"Fled beyond the Rockies."

"Will you, Pio-pio-mox-mox and Tauitau, deliver them up on their return?"

"Yes, if you will give us peace."

"Where is Jo Lewis?"

"Escaped to the Mormons."

"Who are the Mormons?"

"Dwellers in a magic city that has risen on Salt Lake."

"Where is Five Crows?"

"Dying at the camp of Chief Joseph."

"Where is Chief Joseph?"

"Quiet in his own valley. He has taken no part in the war."

"And Chief Ellice?"

"Dead. He and sixty of his men went to hunt elk in the mountains and all died of the measles."

Declaring the Cayuse lands forfeited to the United States, and leaving a garrison at the Whitman Fort to watch for the murderers and meet the autumn immigrants, the volunteers gave up the chase and returned to their homes. But Colonel Gilliam came not back ─ he, too, was numbered with the dead.

An autumn immigration of a thousand people entered the country unmolested ─ but yet no word from Washington. Unaided the little colony had fought it out alone.

Eva Emery Dye,"The Cayuse War," McLoughlin and Old Oregon, a chronicle. Fifth edition. Chicago: A. C. McClurg and Company, 1903, p. 350-364].

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CAYUSE WAR.

Herbert C. Lang, "The Cayuse War" History of the Willamette Valley. Portland, Oregon: Himes, 1885, p.305-312].

The first intelligence received by the settlers in the Willamette Valley of the tragedy at Waiilatpu,[the Whitman Massacre] was the note sent to Governor Abernethy by Dr. McLoughlin. The Governor immediately communicated it to the Legislature, then in session, and called for volunteers.

A public meeting was held in Oregon City that night, the eighth of December, and a company was organized for the purpose of taking possession of The Dalles. As winter had set in, there was no danger of an invasion from east of the mountains except by way of

 The Dalles. How much of a combination there was among the Caynses and their neighbors was not known.

Consequently it was necessary to provide against the worst that might be expected. It was evident that a force at The Dalles was necessary as a protection to the settlements in the valley. Of this company Henry A. G. Lee was elected Captain, and Joseph Magone and John E. Ross Lieutenants. The credit of the Provisional Government was pledged by the Legislature to - secure equipments for the command, but the committee which visited Vancouver found

that the Chief Factor preferred their individual responsibility.

Upon giving this, arms were issued to the "Oregon Rifles," who reached Vancouver on the tenth to receive them. On the twenty first they reached The Dalles and went into camp. In the meantime the Legislature entered with energy upon a series of resolutions and enactments with a view to a military organization of magnitude sufficient to chastise the Indians, and the citizens by subscriptions and enlistments seconded cordially the efforts of their Provisional Government.

Many were for pushing forward into the enemy's country at once with a formidable force, but wiser counsels prevailed, and nothing was done likely to prevent the Indians from surrendering their white captives to Mr. Ogden.

In pursuance of the act of December 9, a regiment of fourteen companies of volunteers was raised and equipped upon the credit of the Provisional Government. It speaks volumes for the brave pioneers of the Willamette that they thus responded to the call of duty, supplying, in most cases, their own arms, equipments and horses, without a mercenary thought entering their minds. It was no speculation either by the volunteers or the men who furnished supplies─ something which can not be said of certain subsequent campaigns. The following is a roster of the officers:

FIELD AND STAFF OFFICERS.

Colonel, Cornelius Gilliam (accidentally killed).

Lieutenant-Colonel, James Waters (promoted to Colonel).

Major, H. A. G. Lee.

Adjutant, B. F. Burch.

Surgeon, W. M. Carpenter.

Assistant Surgeons, F. Snider and H. Saffarans.

Commissary, Joel Palmer.

Quartermaster, B. Jennings.

Paymaster, L. B. Knox.

Judge Advocate, Jacob S. Rinearson. -

LINE OFFICERS.

Company A─55 men─Captain, Lawrence Hall; First Lieutenant, H. D. O'Bryant; Second Lieutenant, John Engeut.

Company B─43 men─Captain, John W. Owens; First Lieutenant, A. F. Rogers; Second Lieutenant, T. C. Shaw.

Company C─84 men─Captain, H. J G. Maxon; First Lieutenant, I. N. Gilbert; Second Lieutenant, William P. Pugh.

Company D─36 men─Captain, Thomas McKay; First Lieutenant, Charles McKay; Second Lieutenant, Alex. McKay.

Company D─52 men─Captain, Phil. F. Thompson; First Lieutenant, James. Brown; Second Lieutenant, J. M. Garrison.

Company E─44 men─Captain, Levi N. English; First Lieutenant, Wm. Shaw; Second Lieutenant, F. M. Munkers.

Company E─36 men─Captain, William Martin; First Lieutenant, A. E. Garrison; Second Lieutenant, David Waters.

Company E─63 men─Captain, W. P. Pugh; First Lieutenant, N. R. Doty; Second Lieutenant, M. Ramsely.

Company G─66 men─Captain, James W. Nesmith; First Lieutenant, J. S. Snook; Second Lieutenant, M. Gilliam.

Company H─49 men─Captain, George W. Bennett; First Lieutenant, J. R. Bevin; Second Lieutenant, J. R. Payne.

Company I─36 men─Captain, William Shaw; First Lieutenant, D. Crawford; Second Lieutenant, B. Dario.

Company No. 7─27 men─Captain, J. M. Garrison; First Lieutenant, A. E. Garrison; Second Lieutenant, John Hersen.

F. S. Water's Guard─57 men─Captain, Wm. Martin; First Lieutenant, D. Weston; Second Lieutenant, B. Taylor.

Reorganized Company─Captain, John E. Ross; First Lieutenant, D. P. Barnes; Second Lieutenant, W. W. Porter.

Colonel Gilliam reached The Dalles on the twenty-third of February, with fifty men, followed a few days later by the remainder of the regiment. On the twenty-seventh he moved to the Des Chutes with one hundred and thirty men, crossed to the east bank, and sent Major Lee up that stream about twenty miles on a reconnaissance, where he found the enemy, engaged them, killed one, lost some of his horses and returned to report progress. On the twenty-ninth Colonel Gilliam moved up the Des Chutes to Meek's Crossing, at the mouth of the canyon in which Major Lee had met the Indians.

The next morning, on entering the canyon, a skirmish followed, in which were captured from the hostiles, forty horses, four head of

 cattle and $300 worth of personal property, all of which was sold by the Quartermaster for $1,400. The loss of the Indians in killed and wounded was not known. There was one white man wounded. The result was a treaty of peace with the Des Chutes Indians. The command pushed immediately for. ward to the Walla Walla country and reached the Mission prior to March 4.

On the way to that place a battle occurred at Sand Hollows, on the emigrant road, eight miles east of the Well Springs. It commenced on the plain where washes in the sand make natural hiding places for a foe, and lasted until towards night. The volunteer force was arranged with the train in the road, protected by Captain Hall's company.

The companies of Captains Thompson and Maxon, forming the left flank, were on the north side of the road, and those of Captains English and McKay, as the right flank, were on the south or right of the command. Upon McKay's company at the extreme right the first demonstration was made. Five Crows, the head chief of the Cayuses, made some pretensions to the possession of wizard powers, and declared to his people that no ball from the white man's gun could kill him.

Another chief of that tribe named "War Eagle," or "Swallow Ball," made similar professions, and stated that he could swallow all the bullets from the guns of the invading army if they were fired at him. The two chiefs promised their people that Gilliam's command should never reach the Umatilla River, and to demonstrate their invulnerability and power as medicine chiefs, they dashed out - from concealment, rode down close to the volunteers and shot a little dog that came out to bark at them.

Captain McKay, although the order was not to fire, could hold back no longer, and bringing his rifle to bear, took deliberate aim and shot War Eagle through the head, killing him instantly. Lieutenant Charles McKay brought his shot gun down to the hollow of his arm, and firing without sighting it, so severely wounded Five Crows that he gave up the command of his warriors.

This was a serious, chilling opening for the Indians─ two chiefs gone at the first onset and their medicine proved worthless─but they continued the battle in a skirmishing way, making dashing attacks and masterly retreats until late in the afternoon. At one time during the engagement, Captain Maxon's company followed the enemy so far that it was surrounded, and a sharp encounter followed, in which a number of volunteers were disabled. In fact, eight of the eleven soldiers wounded that day were of Maxon's company.

Two Indians were known to have been killed, but the enemy's loss could not be known as they removed all of their wounded and dead except two.

That night the regiment camped on the battlefield without water,

 and the Indians built large and numerous fires along the bluffs, or high lands, some two miles in advance. The next day Colonel Gilliam moved on, and without incident worthy of note, reached Whitman's Mission the third day after the battle. The main body of Indians fell back towards Snake River, and a fruit. less attempt followed to induce them to give up the parties who had committed the murders at Waiilatpu.

Colonel Gilliam at last determined upon making a raid into the Snake River country, and in carrying out this program surprised a camp of Cayuses near that stream, among whom were some of the murderers. The captured camp professed friendship, however, and pointed out the horses of Indians on the hill, which, they said, belonged to the parties whom the Colonel was anxious to kill or capture, stating that their owners were on the north side of Snake River, and beyond reach.

Too well was their part acted that the officers believed their statements, proceeded to drive off the stock indicated, and started on their return. They soon found that a grievous error had been committed in releasing the village, whose male population were soon mounted upon war horses, and assailed the volunteers on all sides, forcing them to fight their way as they fell back to the Touchet River. Through the whole day and even into the night after their arrival at the latter stream, the contest was maintained a constant, harassing skirmish.

The soldiers drove the Indians back again and again, but as soon as the retreat was resumed, the enemy were upon them once more. Finally, after going into camp on the Touchet, Colonel Gilliam ordered the captured stock turned loose; and - when the Indians got possession of it, they returned to Snake River without molesting the command any further. In the struggle on the Touchet, when the retreating soldiers first reached that stream, William Taylor was mortally wounded by an Indian, who sprang up in the bushes by the stream and fired with but a few yards between them.

Nathan Olney, afterwards Indian Agent, seeing the act, rushed upon the savage, snatched from his -hand a war club in which- was fastened a piece. of iron, and dealt him a blow on the head with it with such force as to cause the iron to split the club, and yet failed to kill him He then closed with- his antagonist in a hand-to-hand struggle, and soon ended the contest with a knife. There were no other casualties reported.

Colonel Gilliam started from the Mission on the twentieth of March, with a small force destined to return from The Dalles with supplies, while he was to continue to the Willamette and report to the Governor. While camped at Well Springs he was killed by

an accidental discharge of a gun, and his remains were taken to his friends west of the Cascades by Major Lee. This officer soon returned to his regiment with a commission as Colonel, but finding Lieutenant-Colonel Waters had been elected by the regiment to that position in his absence, he resigned and filled a subordinate

 office for the remainder of his term of enlistment.

The attempt by commissioners, who had been sent with the volunteers, as requested by the Indians in a memorial to the Americans at the time the captives were ransomed, to negotiate a peaceful solution of the difficult problem, failed. They wanted the Indians to deliver up. for execution all those who had imbued their hands in blood at Waiilatpu; they wished the Cayuses to pay all damages to emigrants caused by their being robbed or attacked while passing through the Cayuse country.

The Indians wished nothing of the kind. They wanted peace and to be let alone; for the Americans to call the account balanced and drop the matter. The failure to agree had resulted in two or three skirmishes, one of them at least a severe test of strength, in which the Indians had received the worst of it, and in the other the volunteers had accomplished nothing that could be counted a success. The Cayuses, finding that no compromise could be effected, abandoned their country, and most of them passed east of the Rocky Mountains. Nothing was left for the volunteers but to leave the country also, which they did, and the Cayuse War had practically ended.

The Cayuses, as a tribe, had no heart in the war. Joe Lewis told them immediately after the massacre that now they must fight, and advised them to send him to Salt Lake with a band of horses, to trade for ammunition with the Mormons. He started with a select band of animals, accompanied by two young braves; and a few days later one of them returned with the intelligence that Joe Lewis had killed his companion and decamped with the horses; and this was the last the Cayuses saw of the scheming villain.

Thus matters stood until the spring of 1850, when the Cayuses were given to understand that peace could be procured by delivering up the murderers for punishment. At that time Tam.su-ky and his supporters, including many relatives who had not in any manner participated in the massacre, were hiding in the mountains at the head of John Day River. The Indians who desired peace went after them, and a fight ensued, ending in the capture of nearly all of the outlawed band.

In this fight "Cutmouth John," an Indian well known in Umatilla, while endeavoring to capture one of the murderers, received the wound which gave rise to his peculiar appellation. Only one of the five actually engaged in the bloody work at Waiilatpu (so the Whitman Indians assert) was captured, and he was Ta-ma-has, an ugly villain whom his countrymen called "The Murderer." It was he who commenced the work of death at Waiilatpu by burying a hatchet in Dr. Whitman's brain.

Taking him and four others, several of the older men and chiefs went to Oregon City to deliver them up as hostages. They were at once thrown into prison, condemned and executed at Oregon City on June 3, 1850; and even the ones who had escorted them, in view of

 this summary proceeding, congratulated themselves upon their safe return. They believed that Ta-ma-has should have been hanged, hut not the others; and to this opinion the few survivors of the tribe cling to the present day.

Herbert C. Lang, "The Cayuse War" History of the Willamette Valley. Portland, Oregon: Himes, 1885, p.305-312].

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CAYUSE WAR.

Clinton A. Snowden, "The Cayuse War," History of Washington. The rise and progress of an American state.  New York: The Century History Company, 1909. Volume II, p. 345-361].

Neither the settlers nor the provisional government were prepared for the startling news that Douglas and Ogden sent to Oregon City on December 7, 1847. They had long realized that they might be called upon, at almost any time, to defend themselves against their savage neighbors. They had frequently petitioned the national government to take notice of their defenseless condition, and provide means for their protection. They were still few while the Indians were many. Though, living far beyond the frontier they had provided their isolated homes with some of the comforts of civilization, while the Indians still lived in all the squalor of savagery and ignorant incompetence.

They were always complaining because the settlers had taken possession of their lands without paying for them, and were getting so much more out of them than they had ever got. It was always possible that they might rise in the brute strength of their numbers, and make bloody reprisal on what they still believed to be their own. When Cockstock and his drunken associates had murdered Le Breton, three years earlier, many supposed that such a rising was at hand, and some slight preparation had been made to meet and repress it, but the excitement soon subsided. Their Indian neighbors became as peaceable as before, and their own condition as defenseless.

But now a war was inevitable. A bloody massacre had been committed, and it was absolutely essential that the guilty perpetrators of the deed should be punished. Unless this was done the emigrant trains in future would be safe nowhere west of the mountains, and worse still the tribes would most likely take courage, unite and attack the settlements. It was therefore necessary to act, and to act at once.

Alanson Himman, who was in charge of the missionary station at the Dalles, was alarmed for its safety. His letter asking for protection reached Oregon City at the same time as that of Douglas

 and Ogden. Both were laid before the provisional legislature by Governor Abernethy, in a brief message. "The distressing circumstance which they describe call for immediate action," he said. "I am aware that, to meet the case, funds will be required, and suggest the propriety of applying to the honorable Hudson's Bay Company, and the merchants of this place for a loan, to carry out whatever plan you fix upon. I have no doubt but the expense of this affair will be promptly met by the United States government."

The boundary question had been settled nearly a year and a half earlier. There was no doubt that the territory now belonged to the United States, but no government had yet been provided for it. A mounted rifle regiment had been raised two years earlier, to police the trail and furnish protection for the settlers, but the Mexican war had begun before it was ready to march, and it had been sent to the support of General Taylor. The settlers were therefore left to their own resources.

When the governor's message had been read, J. W. Nesmith offered a resolution, which was unanimously passed, "authorizing the governor to raise a company of riflemen, not to exceed fifty men, rank and file, and to dispatch them forthwith to occupy the mission station at the Dalles, and retain said station until they can be reinforced, or other measures taken by the government."

A public meeting was held that same evening, which was addressed by Nesmith, S. K. Barlow and H. A. G. Lee, and forty-five volunteers were enrolled on the spot. The volunteers assembled next day at Barlow's house, elected Lee captain, and immediately started for the Dalles. Their departure was cheered by their mothers, wives and sweethearts, who presented them with a flag, which they had made with their own hands while the company was assembling. It was the first flag made on the coast.

The legislature next authorized the governor to call for a regiment of mounted riflemen, not to exceed five hundred in number, to serve for ten months unless sooner discharged, and to be subject to the rules and articles of war. The officers of this regiment were to be appointed by the provisional government, and the rendezvous was appointed at Oregon City on December 23 nd.

The news of the massacre spread rapidly. A newspaper, the "Oregon Spectator," had been established at Oregon City more than a year earlier. Its first number had been issued February 5, 1846, with William G. T'Vault as its editor. It published such details of the massacre as were at hand, together with reports of the action of the legislature, and of the meeting at which the first volunteer company had been enlisted. The settlers were quickly aroused and as quickly responded. Every young and every middle-aged man offered his services and brought his rifle with him if he had one.

The old men only remained at home. All distinction between settlers who had once been foreigners and those who were American

 born immediately disappeared. Tom McKay raised a company among the old Canadian trappers on French Prairie, was elected its captain, and was among the first to report for duty. By the day appointed for the rendezvous, enough men had enlisted to justify the organization of the regiment, and the legislature named Cornelius Gilliam as Colonel, James Waters, Lieutenant Colonel, Henry A. G. Lee, Major, Joel Palmer, Commissary and Quartermaster General, and A. Lawrence Lovejoy, Adjutant.

And now the supreme difficulty began to appear. The provisional government was without funds, and without any means to raise funds in such amount and as promptly as needed. The volunteers must be armed, provided with ammunition, and furnished transportation for a considerable part of the way, if they were to be hurried forward as promptly as was desirable. Then they must be supplied as they advanced into the enemy's country, and this was certain to be expensive. There was only one way to get what was needed promptly, and that was to get it from the Hudson's Bay Company.

Jesse Applegate, A. L. Lovejoy and George L. Curry had already been appointed a loan commission, with authority to negotiate for $100,000 upon the credit of the government, but upon applying at the fort they had been informed by Chief Factor Douglas that he could not grant loans, or make any advances on account of the Hudson's Bay Company, his orders on that point being so positive that he "could not deviate from them without assuming a degree of responsibility that no circumstances would justify." It was therefore impossible to raise the means needed by loan, and there was no other source within reach, from which such a sum could be procured.

It was possible of course to make forcible levy upon the company, and this some advised, though the majority did not approve it at that time. The chief factor had already shown his good will, by sending an expedition at the sole cost of the company, to rescue the women and children at Waiilatpu. That had been done at the call of humanity, but he could not further dispose of the company's

property, in disregard of positive instructions.

He, however, furnished what was necessary to equip the first company, accepting the note of Governor Abernethy, A. L. Lovejoy and Jesse Applegate for $1,000 in payment.

An appeal was made to the merchants of Oregon City, and it resulted in loans amounting to $3,600. But this was so small an amount in comparison with what was needed that the loan commissioners resigned. Others were appointed. These were forced to take orders on stores, and as cash was most needed, they were converted at a considerable sacrifice.

The settlers gave what they could, the volunteers furnished something from their personal resources, and then set off for the hostile country poorly equipped, and not altogether confident that

 they could be regularly supplied as they would need to be.

In addition to raising and sending these volunteers to the front, the provisional government also dispatched a messenger, the redoubtable Joe Meek, to Washington, to notify the government of the massacre, and of the war it was about to make, and also to make an urgent appeal for aid. Jesse Applegate was sent to procure aid from the governor of California. With an escort of fifteen men he started to make the trip by land, through a country inhabited by Indians who had always been more or less hostile, but was compelled to turn back by the deep snow encountered in the Siskiou Mountains, and the dispatch of which he was the bearer was forwarded by sea.

In choosing Cornelius Gilliam to command the volunteers, the provisional legislature had chosen wisely. He was a native of North Carolina, though nearly all of his fifty years of life had been spent in Missouri. He had served in the Black Hawk war, in Illinois, and later had commanded a company in the Seminole war in Florida. Still later he had raised a company to help expel the Mormons from the Middle West, and had returned from that campaign a colonel.

In 1844 he had commanded the emigrant train with which the Simmons party, the first settlers in Washington, and James Marshall, the discoverer of gold in California, had come to Oregon. He had been ordained as a minister in the Free Will Baptist Church, but had not preached regularly. He believed in the sword of the Lord and of Gideon, and in Stonewall Jackson's policy of finding the enemy, and fighting him as frequently as possible, giving him no chance to rest and recuperate.

Before setting out on the campaign he was reported to have expressed some dissatisfaction with the refusal of Chief Factor Douglas to make the loan which the provisional government had requested, and to have threatened to supply his command by the law of war, from the Hudson's Bay Company stations if need be, and thus gave the chief factor some anxiety. He had guns mounted at the fort and made preparations for defense, but was assured by Governor Abernethy that he should not be attacked, and confidences and mutual good feeling were restored again.

On the ninth of January Colonel Gilliam was ready to set out from Portland, then a new settlement on the west side of the Willamette below the falls. On that day Chief Factor Ogden arrived with the captives rescued from Waiilatpu. They were given a most cordial reception, and the story of the massacre, and of their own experience while in the hands of the savages, served to inspire the volunteers with fresh determination to avenge their wrongs.

All fear that they would be slaughtered without mercy, should the Indians learn that the settlers were preparing to attack them,

was now removed, but the danger that the Cayuses might induce the other tribes to unite with them on the plea of common defense

 still remained, and Gilliam made all possible haste to reach the Indian country.

With the advance guard he reached the Dalles on January 23d. On the way up the river he had established a supply station at the Cascades, which was known as Fort Gilliam. Lee had erected a fort at the Dalles, known as Fort Lee. In this the only cannon owned by the settlers, a nine-pounder, was placed,, and it became the general headquarters for the campaign.

The Indians in the neighborhood were already showing a hostile disposition, which strengthened the expectation that the tribes further in the interior would be found united and prepared for defense. The time consumed in raising and arming the troops, had been regarded by them as an indication of indecision, or possibly of cowardice, and this had strengthened their courage, and tempted many of the younger warriors of neighboring tribes to join them.

There had already been some skirmishing between Lee's men and the Indians on the south side of the Columbia, who had stolen some goods belonging to settlers, which had been cached near the beginning of the Barlow Road, and had been caught herding some of their cattle preparatory to driving them off. Major Lee had attempted to parley with them, but had been fired upon, and a fight had followed in which three Indians had been killed and one white man wounded. The Indians had succeeded in driving off about three hundred head of cattle, and on the following day Lee's men had captured sixty Indian horses.

Later two of the volunteers were killed while herding the company's horses. The Indians had left two of their horses in the neighborhood, in the expectation that the herders would attempt to secure them. In this they were not disappointed, and when the herders advanced to drive them in, they were fired upon and both were killed. One Indian was also killed in this engagement.

With a force of about one hundred and thirty men Gilliam now began the advance, and came up with the enemy at a place known as Meek's Cut OW. On the morning of the 3oth an attack was made and after a sharp fight the Indians were driven from their position, with the loss of about forty of their horses and some cattle. As the result of this fight the Des Chutes Indians were induced to give up the struggle, and they made terms with the commissioners, saying that they had been forced into the difficulty through fear of the Cayuses.

Gilliam now pressed forward as rapidly as he could into the Cayuse country. It was clearly seen that if the war was not carried to the Umatilla the Willamette Valley might be soon invaded; and that in any case to let the murderers escape unpunished would give the Cayuses, and all the enemies of the Americans, license to commit further crimes at will. Gilliam therefore made his preparations quickly, and began a forward movement February 15th.

Small parties of Des Chutes Indians followed, offering peace; and signal fires were also seen on distant hills, giving exact information to the tribes on the Umatilla of the force marching against them, and the rate of speed. These signals were translated by Indian interpreters in the army.

As the troops advanced conflicting reports were received, some saying that the Nez Perces had joined the Cayuses, others that Peo Peo Mox Mox, the powerful chief of the Walla Wallas, was uniting with them. Many individual Indians, besides the Cayuses, assembled to oppose the progress of the volunteers. These were gathered to the estimated number of over four hundred, and besides these there were a hundred, or perhaps more, who followed simply to witness the fight, and await the issue to see which party they would join.

On the 25th the Cayuses, with their allies from the north side of the river, felt strong enough to make a stand. The place they chose was the elevated sagebrush plains, west of the Umatilla. Although in midwinter the day was fair and warm. The Indians were deployed on the hills and took shelter behind tufts of sagebrush, and anything else that would conceal them for the moment. Indian observers of the battle, including women and children, were stationed on distant elevations to witness the destruction of the Americans.

Gilliam had his little army well in hand, and his wagons with his supplies thoroughly protected. The Indians began the battle by a charge on horseback, but before coming within range of the rifles of the volunteers, they drew off to one side, and forming a long line, rode around them in a gradually narrowing circle, yelling meanwhile and brandishing their arms in a most threatening and yet entirely harmless manner. The savage seems ever to place great reliance in noise. He shrieks and pounds his tom-tom to frighten the evil spirit out of the sick; he yells and makes all manner of hideous noises to frighten his enemies in war.

So in this battle the savage riders shouted their most savage war cries, and urged their horses to their utmost speed, gradually narrowing the circle as if confident that they would in this manner envelop and finally crush their enemies. The volunteers stood their ground firmly, waiting for their assailants to come within range. Tom McKay, Dr. McLoughlin's stepson, was standing by Colonel Gilliam's side watching the gradually narrowing circle. To him it was no new performance.

He well knew its purpose and harmless character, if properly met. Finally, pointing to one of the foremost and most frantic of the savage riders, he said: "I know that fellow; he is one of the principal medicine men of the Cayuses, and is doubtless boasting that no bullet can reach or harm him. I can shoot him from where I stand."

"Very well, shoot him then," the colonel replied, and raising his rifle the veteran Hudson's Bay man fired, and the Indian rolled

 from his horse. The volunteers could no longer be restrained and the firing soon became general. The Indians ceased their frantic and harmless demonstration and retiring out of range, took shelter on the hills, and behind such objects as could afford them protection. The white men fought in a similar way, advancing from one shelter to another, to get within range. Gradually their whole line advanced and after a battle lasting three hours the Indians retreated.

Over four hundred savages are reported to have taken part in this fight, of which eight were killed and a number wounded. Among the latter was Five Crows, the young chief who carried Miss Bewley away from Waiilatpu, and kept her in his lodge until compelled to give her up. He was struck by two bullets, one of which shattered his arm. None of the settlers were either killed or wounded.

This battle would probably have defeated all hope among the Cayuses of inducing the other tribes to join them, had it not been that the provisional government had appointed a peace commission to negotiate with the hostiles at the same time that it raised the army. It was expected that this commission would go with the army, or in advance of it, and would be able to do much to prevent a combination among the tribes, and perhaps it did do more in this line than was at the time believed.

It was composed of Joel Palmer, who was afterwards a most successful Indian agent and negotiator, and Robert Newell, the old-time trapper, with Perrin Whitman as interpreter. These commissioners did not go forward as promptly as was expected, and perhaps it is as well they did not, for their coming was regarded by the Indians as an evidence of weakness. The messengers they sent out to invite representative chiefs from various tribes to meet them, were often either turned back by the hostiles, or they were able to prevent their invitation from being accepted.

Colonel Gilliam was impatient of their presence. He believed that prompt and effective action on his part would do more than negotiation could, to prevent any accession to the ranks of the hostiles. Delay increased the difficulties of his situation, while it gave the enemy time to rest and recuperate, to gather supplies and to encourage the young warriors of other tribes, who were always inclined to bloodshed, to come to their assistance. In this view he seems finally to have had the sympathy, if not the cordial support, of General Palmer himself.

By the 28th of February the volunteers were encamped on the Walla Walla, whence Gilliam sent a short report of the battle on the Umatilla to Governor Abernethy, and asked for reinforcements, as he feared that the delay caused by the efforts of the commissioners to negotiate, would lead to a coalition of all the tribes. He felt sure that the commissioners were too sanguine; that they were being imposed upon, and would accomplish no result. He asked McBean to provide his men with a fresh supply of ammunition, but this was refused. He therefore made a levy for it,

 and was told to help himself, which he did..

He then moved up the Walla Walla to a point near the camp of Peo Peo Mox Mox, who professed friendship and supplied the soldiers with beef. He next moved on to Waiilatpu, where he reburied the bones of the victims of the massacre, some of which had been dug up by wolves, as previously stated, and then built an adobe fort nearby, which he called Fort Waters, in honor of his lieutenant colonel.

The situation now began to assume a very critical aspect. Indians were seen collecting on the north side of the Columbia, above the Dalles, with the apparent purpose of plundering the supply boats as they passed up the river. In the Willamette Valley the Klamaths arrived and stirred up the Mollallas to make a demonstration at the Abiqua, a small stream in the vicinity of Silverton. In Benton County there was a collision with the Calapooias, two of the Indians being killed and two wounded. That the coast tribes might also take advantage of the situation was shown by a number of Tillamooks coming into Polk County, committing petty depredations, and killing an old man.

In this situation Governor Abernethy deemed it advisable to recall Gilliam to the Willamette, and issued a call for three hundred more volunteers. On March 10th, however, Gilliam wrote Ahernethy that the Cayuses were moving north, through the country of the Walla Wallas, and with their Palouse allies, making a force of about four hundred, were encamped on the Tukanon. He intended taking a force of two hundred and fifty men and attacking them. He urged also the necessity of reinforcements, especially as the term of many of his men would soon expire.

He very correctly saw that the surest way to prevent a combination among the tribes was to make an active campaign, and constantly degrade the hostiles by repeated defeats, until they should submit,

and give up the murderers for punishment. Leaving Fort Waters, with about two hundred men, he marched to the Tukanon, which was reached on the 18th, where his force was reduced to one hundred and fifty-eight, by the return of Captain English, with the worn-out horses and men, and the property of Dr. Whitman, brought in at that time by `Sticcas. Information was here received that the Cayuses had divided, Tamsuky having gone eastward to the land of the Red Wolf, on the Snake, and Telauka-ikt was' preparing to cross the Snake with his Palouse allies.

A plan was then formed to attack the latter at the crossing. Soon after daybreak the troops overtook the Indians, who were thrown into confusion, but at once adopted a ruse. An old man, with well-feigned sincerity, appeared and declared that these were not the hostiles, but the people of Peo Peo Mox Mox; that the Cayuses had gone on, leaving n their haste the cattle upon the hills. The troops were ordered not to fire upon these in the camp, who were assembled to the number of four hundred, armed and painted, but to

 capture the cattle.

But on reaching the hills and overlooking the river, they saw the greater part of the stock already crossing, or else safely on the other side, with the Indian drivers urging them rapidly off; and at the same moment the four hundred painted Indians, just left at the camp as friends, were coming on in the rear of the scattered troops, with war whoops and the discharge of their fusees. About five hundred of the stock captured were hastily coralled on the creek, and the Indian fire returned. Some of the Indians were picked off, but most of them remained at a safe distance in the hills, where the bullets of the soldiers could not reach them.

By this trick the Indians saved the greater part of their stock and drove it safely to the country of the Palouses.

As it was not practicable to cross this river in the presence of such a large hostile force it was decided to. return with the cattle and horses captured at the Walla Walla. The retreat was therefore begun, a rear guard keeping up the fight with the pursuing Indians. Late in the afternoon camp was made on a small stream, but during the entire night a constant fire was kept up and the situation seemed very critical. The captured stock was turned loose, and at daybreak the retreat was resumed, the rear guard still fighting.

It was necessary to cross the beautiful but swift Touchet, and as this stream was approached, the Indians formed the bold design of seizing the crossing before the Americans arrived, and thus blocking their retreat. By urging their horses to their utmost speed, a considerable force of the braves gained the brush at the fords before the Americans. This unexpected dash commanded the admiration even of the troops who were thus jeopardized, Captain Maxon reporting that the history of savage warfare furnished few instances of greater Indian prowess and daring. The Americans were at first thrown into confusion, all their fighting hitherto having been at the rear, and there was positive danger for a few moments of a general rout and massacre.

But a few young men at the most vulnerable point, taking matters in their own hands, encountered the Indians, rolling them back, and causing a melee rather than a battle. For almost an hour the struggle lasted. The Indians, although having every advantage, were unable to concentrate, and fought in their old savage style, each for himself, relying rather on noise and threats, than careful marksmanship. Many of them were wounded, and a number were laid on the field, but quickly borne away.

The river was then crossed safely, and Walla Walla was reached on the 16th.

This retreat might have been turned into a defeat if the Indians had known how to take advantage of it. They were, however, repulsed with loss at the Touchet, and fled to the Snake.

 Telau-ka-ikt and his band were driven across that river, and the Palouses lost faith in him, when unable to hold his own country. From the large numbers of Indians present in this battle, it was manifest that many were Walla Wallas arid Palouses. But these seem to have dwindled away after the fight.

The effect therefore was that of a victory to the Americans. It has been said that there was a large band of Nez Perces in the vicinity, at the battle of the Tukanon, or Touchet; but they remained entirely friendly with the Americans. At this place, and in many others during the winter, if these Indians had decided to become hostile, it is hardly possible that Gilliam's small command could have survived.

After reaching Fort Waters, on the Walla Walla, a council of war was held, and it was decided that about one hundred and fifty men should move down the Columbia to Fort Wascopam, at the Dalles, replenish their provisions, and confer with the governor. Without more men, ammunition and equipment it was useless to follow the bands of the Cayuses, who might at any battle be strongly reenforced by renegades, who would at once become friendly if the Americans won, or hostile if they were defeated.

On the way Colonel Gilliam met his death. This was entirely accidental, but was none the less to be lamented. In attempting to draw a lariat rope from a wagon, or as was said by some, while an aide, or teamster called "California" was removing some mats at the front, a loaded gun was discharged, the bullet, or as some accounts say, the ramrod which had been carelessly left in the barrel, striking him in the forehead, causing instant death.

After this the struggle took the usual course of Indian wars. Troops were kept in the field under the general command of Colonel Waters and Colonel Lee, the latter a very able and discreet officer. As spring opened, the Cayuses were chased from one section of country to another. One company followed their trail into the land of the Red Wolf, and the country of the Nez Perces, but found no hostiles. Some scattered parties were also pursued along the Snake River into the Grand Ronde country. Occasionally there was some skirmishing, but no severe fighting.

The commissioners continued to make efforts to negotiate for the surrender of the murderers, but always without success, and the soldiers more and more blamed them for defeating their efforts to bring on a final and decisive battle. But the Cayuses were more nearly exhausted than the soldiers supposed. The mark of Cain was upon them. None of their old neighbors would give them aid, or lend them encouragement.

Their own resources were exhausted. They were indeed no longer a tribe. Broken up into small bands, hunted by the soldiers, more and more coldly received by their old-time neighbors among whom they sought refuge, they finally ceased to offer any resistance that was worthy of the name of war.

The other tribes began to understand that the murderers alone were wanted, and these wretches who had wantonly slaughtered those who had done so much for them, were left without either friends or defenders. They managed to retain their liberty nearly two years longer, but were finally surrendered to the government at Oregon City.

As the result of the massacre and the war which followed it, the Cayuse tribe ceased to be. From being what Dr. McLoughlin had described it to Whitman to be, the manliest and best of all the Indian tribes east of the mountains, it became in a few months, a handful of scattered fugitives, seeking shelter where none were willing to give it. Its crimes were abhorred even by savages. Its language ceased to be spoken, and even its very name ceased to be used, except to describe a very inferior kind of horse.

There was another result which was more to be regretted. The missionaries were compelled to leave that part of the country, and they were not able to return, nor were white settlers permitted to make their homes there until ten years later.

Clinton A. Snowden, "The Cayuse War," History of Washington. The rise and progress of an American state.  New York: The Century History Company, 1909. Volume II, p. 345-361].

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