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University of California • Berkeley
Purchased with contributions
received through
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA,
BERKELEY FOUNDATION
A HISTORY OF THE
WUJT1? RTVJ7R MAQ-QAPD1?
WJ Ei IUYMI MAooAbnii
AND THE PRIVATIONS AND HARDSHIPS OF THE
CAPTIVE WHITE WOMEN
AMONG THE
HOSTILES ON GRAND RIVER,
ILLUSTRATED.
Written and compiled by THOMAS F. DAWSON and F. J. V. SKIFF,
of the DENVER TRIBUNE.
1879.
Printed by the Tribune Publishing House,
Herman Beckurts, Proprietor, J
Denver, Colorado.
INTRODUCTION.
IN giving this little book to the public, no effort is made at literary
excellence. The one aim of the book is to furnish in connected and
comprehensive shape an account of the recent uprising of the Utes,
and the origin and attending circumstances of the entire trouble from
the time of Johnson's attack upon Agent Meeker, including the Thorn-
burgh fight at Milk River, the agency massacre, the captivity of the
women, and other incidents of interest. The authors feel competent to
assume this task. They have, as editors of the Tribtine, written a
complete history of the affair from day to day, and need simply to put
in book form what they have heretofore published. We have culled
largely from the Denver Tribune and other papers, including the New
York Herald and the Chicago Tribune, in preparing the book, and
have added some information never before given to the world. In
submitting this work to the public we desire simply to say that it is
reliable. No facts have been either suppressed or exaggerated for
sensational effect.
JOSIE MEEKER.
CHAPTER I.
THE THORNBURGH MASSACRE THE NEWS IN DENVER
GENERAL EXCITEMENT AND INFLAMATORY RUMORS
. — GOVERNOR PITKIN'S ACTION.
It was about noon on the 1st day of October of
the present year, that the first news of the Milk River
fight between the United States troops under Major
T. T. Thornburgh and the Ute Indians, reached Den
ver and the remaining portions of the outside world.
For, although the battle had occurred two days previ
ous to this time, the long distance between the scene
of the conflict and a telegraph station, and the rough
mountain trail lined, it was supposed, with Indians,
had prevented any earlier communication of the news.
The first information of the disaster came in the
shape of a telegraphic dispatch, dated at Laramie City,
Wyoming, and was sent by Col. Stephen W. Downey,
delegate to Congress from Wyoming, to Governor
Pitkin. It was as follows:
"LARAMIE CITY, October i, 1879.
" To Governor Pitkin, Denver :
"The White River Utes have met Colonel Thorn-
burgh's command, sent to quell disturbances at the
agency, killing Thornburgh himself, and killing and
wounding many of his officers, men and horses,
whereby the safety of the whole command is imper
iled. I shall warn our people in the North Park, and
trust that you will take such prompt action as will
protect your people and result in giving the War
Department control of the savages, in order to protect
the settlers from massacres, provoked by the present
6 THE UTE WAR.
temporizing policy of the government with reference
to Indian affairs, in all time to come.
" STEPHEN W. DOWNEY."
Numerous dispatches followed the one given above,
and the news spread from lip to ear, until by two
o'clock the entire population of the city was excited
to an unusual pitch. The reports were mainly vague
and unsatisfactory, and imagination assisted greatly to
swell the volume of horror and the prospect of war
and murder on our own frontier. To relate half the
stories that fan^j^, wove into shape and fluent lips
spoke into open ears in that one afternoon would be to
fill this volume, and to impart to it the character of
romance which it is not intended to give it. For sev
eral weeks there had been talk in the newspapers
about trouble with the Utes, and the public at large
had been informed of the savage treatment received
by Agent Meeker at White River at the hands of the
Indians; but the masses had passed these warnings
by quite heedlessly, and many had doubtless forgotten
that there had ever been any cause for alarm. During
the few days previous the newspapers themselves had
ceased in a degree to speak of affairs on the reserva
tion. The soldiers under Major Thornburgh having
been sent out from Fort Steele, all seemed to feel a
sense of security on behalf of the people at the
agency. It was tacitly agreed that the sending in of
the troops had put an end to demonstrations on the
part of the Indians.
This was the quiet before the storm — the calm,
clear morning before the dark and storming afternoon.
The surprise was complete. Had the troops marched
into the ambush laid for them at Milk River and
been suddenly fired upon before seeing an Indian, their
astonishment could have been but a degree greater
than that felt by the people of Colorado and Wyoming
THE UTE WAR. 7
on receiving the news. To use a favorite and expres
sive phrase of the reportorial brotherhood, it fell like
a bolt of lightening from a clear sky.
Many days passed before any definite information
could be obtained, and during that interim the wires
were fairly humming with anxious inquiries for friends
in Colorado from all parts of the globe, from news
papers and from the government authorities, and the
responses to all, many of which embodied the start
ling rumors which were floating in the atmosphere
and passing from one person to ano%ber, in lieu of
something more authoritative to send.
The uncertainty in regard to the whereabouts of the
Indians and the certainty in regard to their commit
ting depredations wherever an opportunity might offer,
were causes for the most serious apprehension in be
half of the prospectors, miners and stock raisers along
the line of the reservation. Governor Pitkin took
immediate steps to inform the frontiersmen of the
danger to which they were subjected. He sent or
caused to be sent couriers to North Park, Middle Park,
Bear River, Snake River, Grand River, Eagle River,
Gunnison River and its tributaries, Coal Creek, Ohio
Creek, Anthracite Creek, Taylor River, etc. ; Lake
City, Silverton, Ouray, Rico, Animas City, and other
points which it was believed would be in danger in
case the Indians should scatter or determine to attack
the settlements. Militia companies were organized
and drilled, and arms and ammunition distributed by
the State as fast as they could be obtained from the
government. In less time than a week the entire State
was in arms, and was well ready to fight the Indians
before further news was received from Milk River.
CHAPTER II.
ORIGIN OF THE TROUBLE WITH THE UTES — EARLY REC
OMMENDATION FOR A MILITARY POST ON WHITE RIVER
MR. MEEKER APPOINTED AGENT REFORMS INTRO
DUCED BY HIM AGTICULTURE AND EDUCATION
TROUBLE DURING THE SUMMER JOHNSON'S ATTACK
ON THE AGENT — MR. MEEKER'S STORY — COL. STEELED
INTERVIEW WITH MR. MEEKER JUST BEFORE HIS DEATH
TROOPS TO THE FRONT.
While we are anxiously awaiting this intelligence,
it will certainly not be out of place to revert briefly
to the circumstances which immediately preceded and
led up to the Thornburgh affair.
The origin of the difficulties with the Utes seems
to have lain partially in the fact that this tribe, like
the Cheyennes, could not content themselves upon
their reservation. The country north of the Colorado
Reservation is very desirable for farming and grazing
purposes, and is thickly settled. For three or four
years past the Indians have been in the habit of in
truding into this district, as well as into North and
Middle Parks, which practice has caused considerable
annoyance to settlers, particularly on Snake, Bear and
Grand Rivers. There are many lawless persons in the
vicinity, it is said, who for years have carried on a
brisk trade with the Indians, supplying them with
whisky and ammunition, causing constant complaints
to the Indian Office. Depredations have also been
committed by the Indians along the valleys of the
rivers referred to. In the fall of 1 877 Agent Danforth
visited that country, together with Lieutenant Parke,
THE UTE WAR. 9
of the Ninth Cavalry, United States Army, with a
view to the adoption of measures to protect the set
tlers and break up this unlawful traffic. They re
ported in September, 1877, that it would be necessary
to establish a military post there, that this would keep
the Indians on their reservation, serve to protect the
settlers and break up the unlawful trade referred to.
The recommendation was never complied with.
It was about this time that Hon. N. C. Meeker was
appointed by President Hayes agent at White River.
He found affairs in a deplorable state. Many of the
Indians had left the reservation, and had gone as far
north as Sweetwater Creek in Wyoming, Chief Doug
lass being among those who had wandered from the
flock. Great dissatisfaction existed because of ill treat
ment by former agents, and there was no little talk of
war. But Agent Meeker soon succeeded in restoring
quiet among the discontented, and soon again all
went well.
Very soon after establishing himself at the agency
Mr. Meeker commenced to introduce some reforms
into the system of conducting Indian Agencies, in
which efforts he had the co-ot>eration of the govern
ment. It was a pet theory with him that he could
make the agency self-supporting by stock raising
and agriculture, and that, by an effort in the proper
direction, the Indians could be educated. He did not
believe in wasting time on the old Indians of fixed
customs, but thought that the young might be in
duced to attend school and grow up educated in the
English language and trained in the manners of civil
ized society. For the accomplishment of the latter
purpose he took his daughter, Miss Josephine Meeker,
the herbine of this narrative, with him to the agency,
and she established a school for the benefit of the In
dian juveniles. The agency was removed during Mr.
IO THE UTE WAR.
Meeker's administration twenty miles from White
River, from the old site, to Powell's Bottom, one of
the best favored and most beautiful tracts of land on
the continent. Here he began his agricultural demon
strations, which were the direct cause — at least the
principal one assigned by the Indians — for their out
break and murder of the Agent.
The Indian trouble was really brewing all summer.
In June the Utes began burning the forests and
grasses along the line of their reservation, a distance
of over three hundred miles. Roving bands wand
ered up and down the entire country, leaving a trail of
fire wherever they went. Fires were started in unin
habited districts at first, but in August the houses of
Major Thompson and a Mr. Smart on Bear River,
Routt county, were burned by Indians who were seen
and recognized. Complaints for arson were sworn
out before Judge Beck, First Judicial District, who
issued warrants for the arrest of two Indians named
Bennett and Chinaman. Sheriff Bessey and a posse
followed the Indians into the reservation to execute
the warrants, but they were unable to find the crim
inals. Chief Douglass denied the right to arrest In
dians on a reservation. This fact was officially re
ported to Governor Pitkin by Judge Beck, and* he
applied to General Pope for troops to execute the
warrants, on the ground that no Indian guilty of arson
could escape punishment for crimes by taking refuge
on the reservation. General Pope at once ordered a
company of cavalry, then scouting in Middle Park, to
the agency to arrest the Indians or assist the sheriff.
Meanwhile Father Meeker, the White River Agent,
had difficulty with certain members of the tribe and
had been rudely handled by Johnson, a leading chief.
A plowman was also shot at and exciting scenes
ensued.
THE UTE WAR. IT
As these were the events which led to the following
more serious incidents, we re-produce entire Mr.
Meeker's own explanation of the difficulty, which
was that which follows :
" Having finished the plowing of one field we
started on another. This field was one of about
200 acres, not yet fenced, but only half was to be
plowed, the remainder was to be irrigated for a hay
meadow. Since so many Indian horses eat up the nat
ural hay, we have to go from four to seven miles to
cut hay, and even there the horses leave only a part.
A chief object in moving the agency was to obtain
tillable land, and this particular tract of 200 acres was
an inducement. But after we had irrigated a bed 100
feet wide and half a mile long several Indians objected
and Jane in particular. Her man Parviets had built
a corral on the ground, though he was told previously
that the land would be plowed; and Antelope was
another. Both of these had been off in Middle Park,
cutting up generally, and they had to be sent for and
brought back, and when they came fire followed them
all the way back to Bear River.
" The claim that Jane and Antelope made was that
this is the Utes' country; that they had fixed them
selves and did not want to move, for the grass was
good and they wanted it all the while for their horses.
Being close to the agency, for the buildings are on
the lot, it was handy and they wanted it. Besides, they
said the Utes did not want any more land plowed,
there was enough now, and they wanted to live just
as they had lived. Jane was told that there were
plenty of places just as good; that the employes
would move everything without any trouble to her,
and make things enough sight better; and she
was told, too, that if the buildings were moved she
would be sure to follow and claim land close by, and
12 THE UTE WAR.
so the Agent could have no chance to plow at all.
She said he might plow off in another place, and she
indicated, as Douglass and others did afterward, that
a certain tract, covered with grease wood, cut up with
sloughs, and white with alkali, was good to plow,
though it would take three months to clear the sur
face.
" No, she would listen to nothing; that piece of land
was to be theirs, and they wouldn't have it plowed,
for they had taken it, which was something like the
case when Greeley was first settled, when men wanted
to locate their share on 160 acres next to the town
centre. Therefore the plows were ordered to run, but
before a single round had been plowed, there came
two Indians with guns and forbid the plowing. When
the plowman came back he reported to the Agent, who
told him to go ahead. And so the sulky-breaker
went ahead, and for an hour or so peace seemed re
stored; but after awhile the plowman reported that he
was shot at from a little bunch of sage brush, where
two Indians were seen lying, and the ball whistled
close to his person. Of course plowing was ordered
stopped and the team turned out. Then Douglass
was sent for, but he would do nothing. This was the
Utes' country, and they wanted it for their horses.
" Then Jack, the chieftain, a rival to Douglass, was
sent for, ten miles up the river. Jack has a big body
of big Indians under him, and it was scarcely two
hours before as many as twenty of them, with Jack at
their head, came down on the full run, for Jack had
been told that the Agent was going to telegraph to
Washington, but before he did so he wanted to know
whether all the Utes united to stop the plowing, and
all of them should be heard.
" Then followed a talk lasting nearly to sundown,
when it was decided that the Agent might plow that
THE UTE WAR. 13
bed, but no more. The Agent said that would not do
at all. Then it was decided that he might plow more
and have it all, so the thing seemed settled. However,
it was not settled.
"The next day the plow started, but it had not gone
half around before out came Parviets and Antelope
and threatened dire vengeance if any more than that
land was plowed, which, by the way, was a* fine piece
to fence, being in all about six acres, and requiring
more fencing than a square of one hundred acres.
Still, the plow ran an hour or so, doing first-rate work.
But by this time the employes began to think there
was likely to be different kind of work to do than they
came hither for, and so the plowman was ordered to
retreat from the enemy. About this time the remark
was made to George, 'This is getting rather interest
ing,' to which he replied, ' It may be to you, but I
can't see it for my part.'
" Then Jack was sent for again, and he came down
with a big lot of retainers, earlier than the day before,
and a big long talk was had. The A gent sat for hours
in a hot room filled with tobacco smoke, and listened
to speeches of which he understood nothing, and dur
ing all the time he said nothing — silently representing
the government of the United States.
" Among the speeches was one by Douglass, which
was the closing plea, or summing of the case, lasting
nearly half an hour, and then it was understood why
Douglass was made chief — that is, on account of his
eloquence. First, he spoke in poetic Ute, not in the
ordinary vernacular. Second, the words were uttered
with perfect distinctness, and yet quite rapidly. Third,
the sentences were measured. There would be three
sentences of about fifteen words each ; then a sentence
of thirty or forty words, and so on. The Indians lis
tened to him with the utmost attention, and some
14 THE UTE WAR.
seemed to shed the sympathetic tear, for frequently in
his gestures he seemed to embrace some object, and
with fervor and love. It was afterward learned that
he spoke of the unity of all the Indian tribes, the
Utes, the Bannocks, Arapahoes, Cheyennes, Pawnees,
Apaches and Navajos, and then of the fatherly care of
the government, embracing and caring for all as if
they were the children of one father.
" Soon after the conclusion of the speech, Douglass
asked the Agent what he would do for Jane if she
would move off. The reply was that he would move
the corral, help her husband build a log house, dig a
well, give them a stove, and have everything nice.
This was agreed to, and the Agent was allowed to have
the land. The impression is, that if the Indians had
been free to choose, they would have forbidden an
other furrow to be turned."
Colonel John W. Steele, an agent of the post office
department, visited White River Agency immediately
after this occurrence. Colonel Steele, speaking of the
scenes and incidents of his visit, which fell on the
1 2th of September, says :
" I soon learned that the Agent, Mr. Meeker, had, a
short time before my affival, been violently assaulted
by a Ute chief named Johnson, and severely, if not
dangerously, injured. The white laborers told me
that they had been fired on while plowing in the field
and driven to the agency buildings, but that they were
not much scared, as they thought the Indians only
wanted to prevent the work and fired to frighten
them. Finding Mr. W. H. Post, the Agent's chief
clerk and postmaster, at White River in his office, I
proceeded to transact my business with him. While
engaged at this the Indians began to congregate in
the building.. Mr. Post introduced me to Chiefs Ute
Jack, Washington, Antelope and others. Ute Jack
THE UTE WAR. 15
seemed to be the leader, and asked me my name and
business. I told him. He inquired if I came from
Fort Steele and if the soldiers were coming. I re
plied that I knew nothing of the soldiers.
"Jack said: 'No 'fraid of soldiers. Fort Steele
soldiers no fight. Utes heap fight.'
" He again asked me my name and when I was going
away. I replied : ' In the morning/
"Jack said: 'Better go quick.'
" I offered him a cigar and repeated that I would go
in the morning. He then inquired for Mr. Meeker,
and said to Post : ' Utes heap talk to me. Utes say
Agent plow no more. Utes say Meeker must go 'way.
Meeker say Utes work. Work ! work ! Ute no like
work. Ute no work. Ute no school ; no like school/
and much more of the same sort.
" Jack asked Mr. Post when the Indian goods would
be issued. Post replied : ' In two moons.' Jack said
the goods were issued at the Uncompahgre agency ;
that four Indians had come from there and told him.
" Post replied : ' Guess not.'
"Mr. Post said to me: ' Every fall there is more
or less discontent among the Indians, which finally
dies out. This year there is more than usual.
Jack's band got mad last week because I would not
issue rations to some Uintah Utes who had come
here, and all the bucks refused to draw their supplies.
The squaws drew for themselves and children.'
" Mr. Meeker came in for a short time while we were
talking. About 8 o'clock I went to his quarters, and
found him propped up in his arm chair with pillows,
evidently suffering severely from injuries received
from the assault of Chief Johnson. After a short talk
we discovered that we had formerly been fellow
townsmen, which opened the way for a free conversa
tion about mutual acquaintances. After which Mr.
1 6 THE UTE WAR.
Meeker said : ' I came to this agency in the full be
lief that I could civilize these Utes ; that I could teach
them to work and become self-supporting. I thought
that I could establish schools and interest both Indi
ans and their children in learning. I have given my
best efforts to this end, always treating them kindly
but firmly. They have eaten at my table, and re
ceived continued kindness from my wife and daughter
and all the employes about the agency. Their com
plaints have been heard patiently and all reasonable
requests have been granted them, and now the man
for whom I have done the most — for whom I have
built the only Indian house on the reservation, and
who has frequently eaten at my table — has turned on
me without the slightest provocation, and would have
killed me but for the white laborers who got me
away. No Indian raised his hand to prevent the out
rage, and those who had received continued kindness
from myself and family stood around and laughed at
the brutal assault. They are an unreliable and
treacherous race.'
"Mr. Meeker further said that previous to this as
sault on him he had expected to see the dis
content die out, as soon as the annuity goods
arrived, but he was now anxious about the matter.
In reply to an inquiry, he said that the whole com
plaint of the Indians was against plowing the land,
against work and the school. I told him I, thought
there was great danger of an outbreak, and I thought
that he should leave the agency at once. To this he
made no reply.
, "Shortly after, Ute Jack came into the room
where we were sitting, and proceeded to cate
chise me nearly as before. He then turned to Mr.
Meeker and repeated the talk about work, and then
asked the Agent if he had sent for soldiers. Mr.
THE UTE WAR. 17
'
Meeker told him he had not. Jack then said : 'Utes
have heap more talk.'
" During the conversation Mr. Meeker said that
Chief Douglass was head chief at that agency, but
that he had no followers and little influence. That
Douglass and his party had remained on the reserva
tion all the summer and had been friendly to the
whites ; that Colorow, Ute Jack, Johnson and their
followers paid no attention to his orders and had been
off the reservation most of the summer ; that Chief
Ouray was head chief, but had lost his influence with
and control of the northern Utes.
"I again urged on him the danger of remaining at
the agency, when he told me he would send for troops
for protection. During this conversation the Indians
had remained around the agency buildings, making
much noise. About ten o'clock I went to the quar
ters assigned me for the night in the store-house of
fice. Soon after this the Indians began shouting and
dancing in one of the agency buildings and around
the Agent's quarters. About midnight Mr. Meeker
attempted to quiet them, but was on}y partially suc
cessful, and the red devils made it exceedingly un
comfortable for me most of the night. I was told in
the morning that the Indians had had a war dance.
Those who saw and could have described the scene
are all dead now. At daylight the bucks had all dis
appeared. After breakfast I called on Mr. Meeker in
his room to bid him good-by. He told me he had
written for troops, and requested me to telegraph for
relief as soon as I reached Rawlins."
It was immediately after this occurrence that Mr.
Meeker applied to Governor Pitkin for troops for pro
tection, and he made a request of General Pope, who
at once ordered Major Thornburgh on the mission
in which he met his unfortunate death. General Pope
1 8 THE UTE WAR.
issued orders, September igth, for four companies of
cavalry to concentrate at White River Agency. Two
of these companies were ordered from Fort Fred.
Steele, one from Fort Saunders and one from Pagosa
Springs. The latter company was a negro command,
and had been skirting along the western boundary of
the reservation. It was ordered north two months
previous, in response to the Governor's telegram rel
ative to the Indians firing the forests.
CHAPTER III.
THE MARCH OF THORNBURGH's COMMAND — INCIDENTS
ON THE ROUTE THE PARLEY ARRIVAL AT BAD
CANON THE AMBUSH DESCRIPTION OF THE BATTLE
GROUND — THE ATTACK, THE FIGHT AND THE RE
TREAT — THORNBURGH'S CHARGE AND THE DEATH OF
THE COMMANDER LIST OF THE KILLED AND WOUNDED.
Major T. T. Thornburgh, commanding officer of the
Fourth United States Infantry, and for the past year
in command at Fort Fred. Steele on the Union Pacific
Railroad in Wyoming, was placed in charge of the
expedition, which left Rawlins for White River
Agency, September 24. The command consisted of
two companies, D and F of the Fifth Cavalry, Com
pany E of the Third Cavalry, and Company E of the
Fourth Infantry, the officers included in the detach
ment being Captains Payne and Lawson of the Fifth
Cavalry, Lieutenant Paddock of the Third Cavalry,
and Lieutenants Price and Wooley of the Fourth
Infantry, with Dr. Grimes accompanying the com
mand as surgeon. Following the troops was a sup
ply train of thirty-three wagons.
When the command reached the place known as
Old Fortification Camp, Company E of the Fourth
Infantry, with Lieutenant Price in command, was
dropped from th£ command, the design of this step
being to afford protection to passing supply trains,
and to act as a reserve in case there was demand
for it.
Major Thornburgh turned his force towards the
Indian country in deep earnest, with the balance of
2O THE UTE WAR.
his command consisting of the three cavalry com
panies numbering about 160 men.
Having been directed to use all dispatch in reach
ing the agency, the Major marched forward with as
great rapidity as possible. The route selected is not
well traveled and is mountainous, and of course the
troops did not proceed so rapidly as they might have
done on more familiar highways.
Nothing was seen of or heard from the Indians
until Bear River, which runs north of the reservation
and almost parallel with the northern line, was
reached. At the crossing -of this stream, about sixty-
five miles from White River Agency, ten Indians,
headed by two Ute chiefs, Colorow and Jack, made
their appearance. They were closely questioned, but
professed great friendliness for the whites and would
betray none of the secrets of their tribe. They de
clared that they were merely out on a hunt, and
repeated that they were friends of the white man and
of the Great Father's government, and especially of
the Great Father's soldiers.
After this parley, which took place September 26,
Thornburgh sent his last telegram from camp : " Have
met some of the Ute chiefs here. They seem friendly
and promise to go with me to the agency. They say
the Utes don't understand why we come here. I have
tried to explain satisfactorily ; don't now anticipate
trouble." The conclusion is that Thornburgh was
one of the most prudent]and discreet of officers, but
that he was thrown off his guard by the savages.
The march was continued and nothing more was
seen of the Indians, though a close watch by keen-
eyed scouts was kept up for them, until William's
Fork, a small tributary of Bear River, was reached,
when the same ten Indians first seen again quite sud
denly and very mysteriously appeared. They re-
THE UTE WAR. 21
newed their protestations of friendship, while they
covertly and critically eyed the proportions of the
command. They made a proposition to the Com
mander that he take an escort of five soldiers and
accompany them to the agency. A halt was called
and Major Thornburgh summoned his staff to a con
sultation. After carefully discussing the matter with
a due regard for the importance, the advantage and
disadvantage of the step, the officers' council came to
the conclusion that it was not wise to accept this
proffer on the part of the Indians, as it might lead to
another Modoc trap, and to Thornburgh's becoming
another Canby. Thornburgh's scout, Mr. Joseph
Rankin, was especially strong in opposition to the
request of the Indians.
Major Thornburgh then concluded to march his
column within hailing distance of the agency, where
he would accept the proposition of the Indians.
But he was never allowed to carry out his designs.
Here it became apparent how thin the disguise of
friendship had been, and Thornburgh was soon con
vinced how fatal would have been the attempt for
him, accompanied by only five men, to treat with
them.
The command had reached the point where the
road crosses Milk River, another tributary of the
Bear, inside the reservation and in the limits of Sum
mit County, about twenty-five miles north of the
agency, when they were attacked by the hostiles,
numbering, it is believed, between two hundred and
fifty and three hundred warriors, who had been lying
in ambush.
The scene of the attack was peculiarly fitted for the
Indian method of warfare. When Thurnburgh's com
mand entered the ravine or canon they found them
selves between two bluffs 1,300 yards apart. Those
22 THE UTE WAR.
on the north were 200 feet high, those on the south
100 feet. The road to the agency ran through the
ravine in a southeasterly direction, following the bend
of the Milk River, at a distance of 500 yards. Milk
River is a narrow, shallow stream, which here flows
in a southwesterly direction through a narrow canon.
Through this canon, after making a detour to avoid
some very difficult ground, the wagon road passes for
three or four miles. Along the stream is a growth of
cottonwood trees ; but its great advantage as an am
buscade lies in the narrowness of the canon. On the
top of the two ranges of bluffs the Indians had in
trenched themselves in a series of pits, so that when
the troops halted at the first volley, they stood between
two fires at a range of only 650 yards from either bluff.
The battle took place on the morning of September
29. The locality of the ambush had been known as
Bad Canon, but it will hereafter be described as Thorn-
burgh's Pass. ,
Lieutenant Cherry discovered the ambush and was
ordered by Major Thornburgh to hail the Indians.
He took fifteen men of " E" Company for this work.
Major Thornburgh's orders were not to make the first
fire on the Indians, but to await an attack from them.
After the Indians and Cherry's hailing party had faced
each other for about ten minutes, Mr. Rankin, the
scout, who is an old Indian fighter, seeing the danger
in which the command was placed, hurried direct to
Major Thornburgh's side and requested him to open
fire on the enemy, saying at the same time that that
was their only hope.
Major Thornburgh replied :
" My God ! I dare not ; my orders are positive,
and if I violate them and survive, a court martial and
ignominious dismissal may follow. I feel as though
myself and men were to be murdered."
THE UTE WAR. 23
Major Thornburgh, with Captain Payne, was riding
at the head of the column, Company " F," Fifth Cav
alry, in advance, Lieutenant Lawson commanding
next, and " D " Company, Fifth Cavalry, Lieutenant
Paddock commanding, about a mile and a half to the
rear, in charge of the wagon train.
Cherry had moved out at a gallop with his men
from the right flank, and noticed a like movement of
about twenty Indians from the left of the Indians'
position. He approached to within a couple hundred
yards of the Indians and took off his hat and waved
it, but the response was a shot fired at him, wounding
a man of the party and killing his horse. This was
the first shot, and was instantly followed by a volley
from the Indians. The work had now begun in real
earnest, and seeing the advantage of the position he
then held, Cherry dismounted his detachment and
deployed along the crest of the hill to prevent the
Indians flanking his position, or to cover his retreat if
found necessary to retire upon the wagon train, which
was then coming up slowly, guarded by Lieutenant
Paddock's company, D, Fifth cavalry.
"Orders were sent to pack the wagons and cover
them, with the company guarding them. The two
companies in advance were Captain Payne's company,
F, Fifth cavalry, and Lieutenant Lawson's company,
E, Third cavalry, which were dismounted and deployed
as skirmishers, Captain Payne on the left and Lieuten
ant Lawson on the right.
From Cherry's position he could see that the In
dians were trying to cut him off from the wagons,
and at once sent word to Major Thornburgh, who
then withdrew the line slowly, keeping the Indians in
check until opposite the point which his men had,
when, seeing that the Indians were concentrating to
cut off his retreat, Captain Payne, with Company F,
24 THE UTE WAR.
Fifth cavalry, was ordered to charge the hill, which
he did in gallant style, his horse being shot under
him and several of his men wounded.
The Indians being driven from this point, the com
pany was rallied on the wagon train. Major Thorn-
burgh then gave orders to Cherry to hold his position
and cover Lieutenant Lawson's retreat, who was or
dered to fall back slowly with the company horses of
his company.
Cherry called for volunteers of twenty men, who
responded promptly and fought with desperation.
Nearly every man was wounded before he reached
camp, and two men were killed. Cherry brought
every wounded man in with him.
Lieutenant Lawson displayed the greatest coolness
and courage during this retreat, sending up ammuni
tion to Cherry's men when once they were nearly
without it.
Simultaneously with the attack on Thornburgh's
advance the Indians swept in between the troops and
the wagon train, which was protected by D Company,
Lieutenant Paddock commanding. The desperate
situation of the soldiers in the ravine was at once
apparent to every officer and man in the 'ambush.
The soldiers fought valiently, desperately and the
Indians shrank under the terrible counter fire. A
more complete trap could not be contrived, for the
troops were not only outnumbered but exposed to a
galling fire from bluffs over the edge of which it was
impossible to reach the foe, as the range of sight
would, of course, carry bullets clear over the Indian
pits.
Major Thornburgh was here and there and every
where directing the attack, the defense and later the
retreat. He was constantly exposed to fire and the
wonder is that his intrepidity did not win his death
THE UTE WAR. 25
»
ere it did. Captain Payne and his company under
orders from Thornburgh fell back to a knoll followed
by Lieutenant Lawson and company, the retreat
being covered by Lieutenant Cherry's command.
Hemmed in at both outlets of the pass and subjected
to a steady deathly fire from the hights on either
side, the troops were melting down under the savage
massacre.
MAJOR T. T. THORNBURGH.
Major Thornburgh, seeing the terrible danger in
which his command was placed from the position of
the Indians, at once mounted about twenty men, and
at the head of them he dashed forward with a valor
unsurpassed by Napoleon at the Bridge of Lodi,
and made a charge on the savages between the com
mand and the train.
It was in this valorous dash that Thornburgh met
his fate, thirteen of his bold followers also being
killed, the gallant leader falling within four hundred
yards of the wagons.
26 THE UTE WAR.
The remainder of the command then in retreat for
the train corral, followed the path led by Thornburgh
and his men. As Captain Payne's company was
about to start, or had started, his saddle girth broke
and he got a fearful fall. One of his men dismounted
and assisted him on his horse, the Captain's horse
having run away. F Company, Fifth, followed by
the Captain, he being badly bruised, reached the
wagon train to find it being packed, and Lieutenant
Paddock fighting the Indians, and wounded. Lieu
tenants Lawson and Cherry fell back slowly with their
companies dismounted and fighting all the way, every
man doing his duty.
The stubborn resistance of Lieutenant Cherry in
covering the retreat gave time for the troops at the
train to form temporary breastworks of men's bun
dles, flour, sacks of corn, wagons and dead horses,
and when the last detachment had reached the Pad
dock corral the soldiers fought and entrenched, horses
being shot down rapidly and the foe settling into po
sition on all the high points about them. Captain
Payne, who by Thornburgh's death came into com
mand, drew up eight of the wagons and ranged them
as a sort of a breastwork along the northern and
eastern sides of an oval, at the same time cutting
transverse trenches on the western and southern
points of the oval, along the line of which the men
"posted themselves. Inside the oval eight more
wagons were drawn up for the purpose of corralling
the animals, and there was also a pit provided for
sheltering the wounded. Behind the pits ran a path
to the nearest bend of Milk River, which was used for
obtaining water. The command held their position
until 8:30 o'clock that night, when the Indians with
drew.
In the engagement there were twelve soldiers
THE 'UTE WAR. 2?
killed and forty-two wounded. Every officer in the
command was shot with the exception of Lieutenant
Cherry, of the Fifth Cavalry. The Indians killed
from one hundred and fifty to two hundred mules be
longing to the government. Surgeon Grimes was
wounded but was able for duty. The troops had
about six days' supplies.
When the roll was called, as the darkness of night
settled about the beleaguered troops, it was found that
the following men had been killed or wounded in the
battle :
KILLED.
Major Thornburgh, Fourth Infantry.
First Sergeant John Dolan, Company. F, Fifth Cav
alry.
Private John Burns, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Michael Fieretom, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Amos D. Miller, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Samuel McKee, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Thomas Mooney, Company D, Fifth Cavalry.
Michael Lynch, Company D, Fifth Cavalry.
Charles Wright, Company D, Fifth Cavalry.
Dominick Caff, Company E, Third Cavalry.
Wagonmaster McKinsley.
Teamster McGuire.
WOUNDED.
Captain Payne, Fifth Cavalry, slight wound in the
arm and side.
Lieutenant Paddock, Fifth Cavalry, flesh wound in
the hip.
Dr. Grimes, flesh wound in the shoulder.
Sergeant John Merrill, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Trumpeter Frederick Sutcliff, Company F, Fifth
Cavalry.
Trumpeter John McDonald, Company F, Fifth Cav
alry.
28 THE UTE WAR.
Private Just, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Gibbs, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Private John Hoaxey, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Emil Kurzman, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Eugene Patterson, Company F, Fifth Cav
alry.
Private Frank Simmons, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Eugene Shiek, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Edouz, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Private William Eizer, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Gattlied, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Steiger, Company F, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Nicholas, Company D, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Heeney, Company D, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Thomas, Company D, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Lynch, Company D, Fifth Cavalry.
Private Frederick. Bernhard, Company D, Fifth Cav
alry.
Private E. Muller, Company D, Fifth Cavalry.
Sergeant James Montgomery, Company E, Third
Cavalry.
Sergeant Allen Lupton, Company E, Third Cavalry.
Corporal C. F. Eichmurtzel, Company E, Third
Cavalry.
Frank Hunter, Company E, Third Cavalry.
Private James Conway, Company E, Third Cavalry.
f Private John Crowley, Company E, Third Cavalry.
Private W. H. Clark, Company E, Third Cavalry.
Private Orlando Durand, Company E, Third Cav
alry.
Private Thomas Ferguson, Company E, Third Cav
alry.
Private Thomas Lewis, Company E, Third Cavalry.
Private Edward Lavelle, Company E, Third Cav
alry.
Private Willard Mitchell, Company E, Third Cav
alry.
THE UTE WAR. 29
Private John Mahoney, Company E, Third Cavalry.
Private James Patterson, Company E, Third Cav
alry.
Private W. M. Schubert, Company E, Third Cav
alry.
Private Thomas McNamara, Company E, Third
Cavalry.
Private Marcus Hanson, Company E, Third Cav
alry.
Private James Budha, Company E, Third Cavalry.
Private James Donovan, Company E, Third Cav
alry.
In the fight twenty-three Indians were killed and
two severely wounded, how many slightly wounded
is not known. Among the Indians killed were
Ouray's nephew, Wattsconavot (meaning Doctor),
and Catolowop (meaning Fat Man).
CHAPTER IV.
THE SIX DAYS' SIEGE EXERIENCE OF THE BELEAGUERED
TROOPS MAKING BREASTWORKS OF DEAD SOLDIERS —
THE RENEGADE WITH THE INDIANS SHARP SHOOTING
HOSTILES — SENDING OUT COURIERS ARRIVAL OF THE
NEGRO CAVALRY THE SURPRISE, THE CHALLENGE AND
THE DASH — MERRITT'S RESCUE AND THE RAISING OF
THE SIEGE — A VISIT TO THE BATTLE FIELD — THORN-
BURGH'S BODY — RETURN TO RAWLINS.
During the early part of the first night of the siege
under cover of the darkness, while the Indians had
temporarily ceased their murderous vigil, Joe Rankin,
the scout who had warned the fallen commander of
his danger, stole away from the trenches and suc
ceeded in reaching the open road to the north. His
mission was to convey the tidings of the battle and
call out relief for the beleaguered troops. The won
derful ride of this daring scout has become a feature
in the history of the war. The distance from the
scene of the massacre to Rawlins, the nearest tele
graph point, is one hundred and sixty miles. Ran
kin started at ten o'clock Monday night on a strange
horse, his having been shot in the battle, and deliv
ered the startling tidings at Rawlins Wednesday
morning between two and three o'clock, he having
accomplished the distance in twenty-eight hours.
This man brought the first news of the ambush and
of the death of Thornburgh and his command.
The first morning of the siege broke bright and
clear. It was a glorious day and the romantic scenery
of the canon never spoke greater glory to Nature.
32 THE UTE WAR.
But the picture which the rising sun, as it moved
across the arch, exposed to view, was one which none
but a hostile could gaze upon and not shudder.
As the dark mantle of night was lifted and the first
day of the siege came on, the orb of light was greeted
by the groans of the dying, the moans of the wounded
and the wild cry of the disabled horses. The hours
of the first night had seen the soldiers laboring hard
to complete their defense as far as possible and se
cure to themselves all the protection which the des
peration of a forlorn hope could call upon men to
devise. The location of the pits and wagons and the
position of the trenches and wagons have been given.
There were seventeen pits in all, about seventy feet
long, two and a half feet wide and two feet deep, with
breast works ranging from two to four feet above the
opening and at its sides. In the centre of the pits
were forty-three wounded men, including a few set
tlers. One hundred soldiers occupied the pits and
over two hundred and fifty dead animals surrounded
the corral. There were two look-outs to each pit,
making thirty-four men constantly on guard, through
oddly fashioned loop-holes, in some instances made
through the body of a horse.
As day grew on, the alert foe, securely hidden be
hind the sheltering shelves of the bluffs, renewed
their fire, watching each exposed point and directing
aim at man or beast whenever carelessness or neces
sity brought them in even momentary view.
Captain Payne, then in command, during the night
had the wounded horses shot for breastworks, dis
mantling the wagons of boxes, bundles of the bed
ding, corn and flour sacks, which were piled up for
fortifications, so that the troops were fairly protected
when morning came. The picks and shovels were
used vigorously during the day for digging entrench-
THE UTE WAR. 33
ments. All the time a galling fire was concentrated
upon the command from all the surrounding bluffs
which commanded the position. Not an Indian could
be seen, but the incessant crack of their Sharps and
Winchester rifles dealt fearful destruction among the
horses and men.
The groans of the dying and the agonizing cries of
the wounded told what terrible havoc was being made
among the determined and desperate command. Ev
ery man was bound to sell his life as dearly as possible.
About mid- day a great danger was seen approach
ing at a frightfully rapid pace. The red devils, at the
beginning of the day, had set fire to the dry grass
and sage-brush to the windward of the position of the
pits, and it now came sweeping down towards the
trenches, the flames leaping high into the air and dense
volumes of smoke rolling on to engulf the troops.
It was a sight to make the stoutest heart quail, and
the fiends were waiting ready to send in a volley as
soon the soldiers should be driven from their shelter.
It soon reached the flanks, and blankets, blouses and
empty sacks were freely used to extinguish the flames.
Some of the wagons were set on fire, and it required
all the force possible to smother the blaze. No water
could be obtained, and the smoke was suffocating, but
the fire passed, and the men still held their position.
All this time a constant fire was poured upon the
pits, Captain Payne being wounded for the second
time and First Sergeant Dolan, of Company F, killed
instantly; McKinsley and McKee killed and many
others wounded. But the greatest danger was past.
The men had now nearly covered themselves, but the
poor horses and mules were constantly falling under
sharp fire.
And so passed the first day. That night a second
courier was sent out with despatches up to the hour
3
34 THE UTE WAR.
of his leaving. There was great danger in breaking
from the shelter of the trenches even under cover of
the darkness, but the men who volunteered for this
service knew no fear and were skilled in the intrepid
feats they essayed. During the second day the
bodies of the dead men and animals began to become
offensive, and every opportunity afforded by a brief
relaxation in the firing of the Indians from the heights
which might indicate a temporary cessation of watch
ing, the breastworks which crested the trenches would
be increased in dimensions by the added body of a
dead soldier or horse. Over these bodies dirt was
thrown, and by this means the corpses were poorly
buried and at the same time additional protection
afforded the survivors of the fight. Thus had been
erected three breastworks formed by the dead bodies
of horses, while one was formed of dead soldiers piled
one above the other and covered with earth.
Many were the earnest councils held as to the pos
sible means by craft or daring of escaping the terrible
pen in which the soldiers were. The hours were
counted it would take the relief in which to reach the
trenches, in case the couriers got through safely.
There seemed no way but to wait the coming of the
troops.
Just about sundown this day a charge was attempt
ed, but repulsed, the Indians trying to drive off some
of the horses that had broken loose. The attack
ceased at dark, and pretty soon every man was at
work enlarging the trenches, hauling out the dead
horses, caring for the wounded and burying the dead.
And so came on the third night. In the history of
the siege this was the most uneventful night. Several
trips were made for water, which brought no warning
shot from the bluffs. The wounded were cared for
and the protections made more secure.
THE UTE WAR.
The sun came up on the third day of the siege,
shooting its rays upon the horde of dead, wounded
and alive alike. How succor was prayed for; how
the speed of the couriers was urged by the despairing
soldiers as they contemplated their desperate, almost
hopeless condition, rendered ten-fold wretched by the
presence of their dead comrades and the sufferings of
their wounded companions. But while yet the be
leaguered troops were praying for the safety of their
messengers and the hurrying forward of their relief,
an outlook shouted alarm, and preparations were
made for an attack from the foe which had been ex
pected for hours. Every man jumped to his post
ready to give the red devils a warm welcome. Even
the wounded who were able to do so, grasped rifles
and made ready to defend themselves, shattered as
they were. But it was a relief, entirely unlocked for,
but welcome beyond expression. It was the famous
colored cavalry under command of Captain Dodge,
who had been intercepted by a Rawlins courier and
had ridden to the support of their white brethren in
arms.
The Dodge command had arrived at the entrance
to the pass wherein the troops were entrenched before
a note of their proximity had been conveyed to the
Indians or the men in the pits. Here a halt was
made, and Gordon, the mail carrier, and Sandy Mel-
len, from Middle Park, the guide, were sent forward
toward the rifle pits to announce the arrival. The
three men were challenged as they came in, and
answered, "A company of cavalry." "That's a
damned lie ; it's an Indian ruse — look out," was the
response from the pits. One of the advance then
shouted, " I'm John Gordon," and the voice being
recognized, they were directed to "come on in."
When the men in the pit,s heard that Dodge's com-
36 THE UTE WAR.
pany was near and that their couriers had probably
reached Merritt, the poor fellows sent up a great shout,
which was a sufficient signal for the colored boys to
come on, and the command made a dash for the pits.
The shouting of the Payne men had aroused the In
dians, and one or two shots from the heights were
followed by a heavy and continuous volley in the
direction of the pits. The dash was over a distance
of 600 yards, and not a man was struck. Reaching
the corral, the horses of the negro cavalry were
quickly tied and unsaddled, and the men sank into
the pits with their besieged comrades.
A soldier with Payne thus speaks of the arrival of
Dodge and his colored company :
" We were getting pretty d d tired about that
time. It was the third morning after we were cor
ralled, and of course we didn't know whether any of
our messengers sent out from camp had struck help
or not. Suddenly that morning in the dusk we heard
a noise. Even by that time some of us had begun to
fear that the Indians would charge us, and we all then
supposed it might be Indians. If it hadn't been for
the voice of John Gordon, the scout, who was riding
in the advance, we might have poured in a volley at
them ; but you bet your life there wasn't no volley
except cheers when Gordon rode in with five or six
darkies alongside of him. Pretty soon he told us
what was up and what to expect, and when Captain
Dodge came up at a canter, leading the rest of his
men, we didn't take much account, except to wonder
a little at the color of their faces. We forgot all about
the danger of exposing ourselves, and leaped up out
of the pits to shake hands all around. Why," con
tinued this soldier with curious naivete, " we took those
darkies in right along with us in the pits. We let 'em
sleep with us, and they took their knives and cut off
slips of bacon from the same sides as we did."
THE UTE WAR. 37
Captain Dodge threw up pits to the east of the
others, the work being accomplished very quietly be
fore moon-up on the night following their arrival. As
soon as Captain Dodge arrived the spirits of the be
leaguered troops revived, and they became rather gay,
and said if Merritt was coming no thousand Indians
could take their pits. At night regular details had to
make a sortie for water from the river, about one hun
dred and fifty yards away. The Indians would fire at
random, but only two men were struck during the
entire six days, and these only scratched. The Indians
were in seven pits on the heights surrounding the little
valley in which the troops lay hidden, and during the
six days' siege became very skillful marksmen, doing
sharpshooting that would do credit to the Creedmore.
A soldier would take his hat, and placing it on a
sword or stick, hoist it above the pits, and in five sec
onds it would be riddled with bullets sent from all
directions. The soldiers got very few chances at the
Indians, as they were well hidden, and so high up that
good range was impossible. Most of the Indians seen
at a distance wore citizens' clothes, hats and all, many
wearing uniforms taken from the bodies of the dead
soldiers. On the second day of Dodge's rest in the
pits, and the fifth day of the siege, a charge was ex
pected from the Indians, as the soldiers had fired few
shots the previous day, and the Indians evidently
thought their ammunition was exhausted. But night
came and went and no charge was made. During the
two days that the colored relief were in the trenches
the only events to chase the monotony away were call
ing the hour, and an occasional shot at an exposed
Indian. Little effort was made at jest or story-telling,
as the presence of the dead and wounded chased away
any desire for sport, and the stench from the dead
animals and men was insufferable. One man by the
38 THE UTE WAR.
name of Hogan essayed to make light of the situation,
but the laughter was feeble and forced.
In this way, unwashed, unkempt, illy fed, at a time
when even night, illumined by stars, refused its cus
tomary shield of darkness, the men of Payne's (white)
and Dodge's (colored) commands awaited further suc
cor. They were not only beleaguered by savages,
who kept a cross-fire on them from two commanding
bluffs, but were listeners to constant insults, uttered in
English and seeming to come from some white man
quartered with their savage foes. When a horse or a
mule fell a taunting voice from the bluffs would come,
saying : —
"Better go out and harness him again for your
funeral."
Again : — " Lift up your hats and give us a mark."
Still again: — "Come out of your holes, you ,
and fight. square."
This last from the renegade ensconced with the
Utes.
The situation was chiefly horrible from the con
stant wounds and death-struggles of the poor animals,
which they could in no way protect from the Indian
fire. "Every few minutes," says one, "you heard the
dying gurgle of a horse or a mule, and although we
fastened them as securely as possible at night, their
pangs were such that they would often break away
after being hit, threatening the men's lives in the
trenches. Once a wounded horse leaped in his agony
right into the pit we had dug for the wounded, where
Lieutenant Paddock and seven men were lying at the
time. It was a miracle, almost, that he did not
trample them to death. As it was, we all opened a
terrific fire on the bluffs, so as to make the Utes stop
firing, and under cover of this fusilade a lot of our
boys jumped up and hauled the horse out of the
THE UTE WAR. 39
trench. We had to watch out continually to give
dangerously wounded horses and mules their quietus.
If they got cavorting after receiving an Indian bullet,
and we could see that they were maimed or fatally
injured, the soldiers would take aim and finish them.
It was awfully hard once in a while. A friend of
mine got three flesh wounds in trying to save his
horse's life. Finally, the horse was shot through one
of his iorelegs. Instead of writhing around like the
others, he came hobbling up to the edge of the pit
where Joe and I were and looked down at Joe, as if
to say, "Help me, for God's sake!" Joe turned to
me and said, "You'll have to finish him, Hank; I
can't do it; by God, I can't!" I watched my chance
as the horse turned and put a ball in right behind his
left ear, and dropped him. That night we hauled
him outside with the rest."
There were several pet dogs in the camp, among
them a beautiful greyhound, belonging to Lieutenant
Cherry. " I used to let him out of my pit occasion
ally," says the Lieutenant, "to run down to the water.
One night he came back with one of his paws shot
off. It turned out that he had been fired on by one of
our own sentinels, who mistook him for a crawling
Indian. There was nothing to do but kill the poor
old fellow to save him misery."
One morning a soldier of Payne's command,
wounded in the arm and so ill that he had had no
appetite for two days, turned to a negro soldier close
by him, saying, " Here, pard, stop shooting at them
bluffs, and for the Lord's sake make me a little coffee."
The colored hero thus addressed answered not a word,
but set to work. There was no coffee in the pit, but
there was some in the next one which was tossed over.
But how to make a fire without wood, that was the
question. The colored man calculated the chances,
40 THE UTE WAR.
made a break for the sutler's wagon, snatched a loose
side of a provision box and came back with a bullet
hole in the board, which was meant for his own body.
Then he made a fire in a corner of the pit and pre
pared the coffee for his patient.
The sutler's wagon was a fair target, and the sutler
himself was hit in the leg while making an incautious
approach to it. It had a limited supply of provisions,
the regulation hard tack and raw bacon, and a little
liquor, which was of great service to the _ wounded.
Another vehicle which "saw service," and will
doubtless be preserved at Fort Steele as a pet relic
of siege -history, is the ambulance taken down by
Major Thornburgh. It stood out with the wagons
near the centre of the oval space occupied by the
troops, and is ventilated by some thirty bullet holes.
Rankin, the scout, got under it one day for a nap and
was awakened by a ball which struck one of the
spokes within two inches of the top of his head.
The horses of Dodge's soldiers were left standing,
but before two mornings had dawned nearly every
one of the animals was lying dead, three deep. All
but four of the Dodge command's horses were picked
off by the Indians and these four were badly wounded.
It was better to have them killed than for them to be
taken by the Indians.
Had the heights been accessible, Captain Dodge
would have charged them with his company, while
the others, including the wounded, covered him from
the rifle pits, but this being utterly impossible, the
ascent being nearly perpendicular, all that could be
done during the day was to keep a good lookout from
the loop-holes and return the fire when any Indians
showed their heads. This, however, was a very rare
occurrence, as the Indians had rifle-pits and loop
holes. A very fortunate thing for the soldiers was
THE UTE WAR. 4!
that the Indians left them unmolested at night with
the exception of an occasional shot to make them
scatter to their pits. They were able, at great risk, to
haul off the dead animals every night ; otherwise the
stench would have been intolerable. A sally was
made every night for water, a distance of two hundred
yards from the entrenchment.
THE SCOUT — JOE RANKIN.
The sixth night of the siege Private Eizer, of Com
pany F, was shot in the face while out with a party
after water. The Indians were only a few yards away,
and were driven off by a volley from the guard and
trenches. This night no courier could be got off
owing to the constant firing of the Indians into the
pits, but the troops determined to hold out if it took
42 THE UTE WAR.
a month for succor to reach them. But they were
confident that General Merritt, whose name was upon
the lips of every one, was on the road to rescue them.
On the morning of the 5th about five o'clock, just
as the grey streaks of day were penciling the Eastern
sky, the bugles of Gen. Merritt's advance sounded the
officers' call, which is the night signal of the Fifth
Cavalry. The men in the pits heard the glad notes
with rejoicing, and impetuously turned out of their
safety quarters to welcome the advancing rescuers.
As soon as the Indians saw Merritt's little army
coming they fell back, and it is supposed held a coun
cil as to what to do. In the meantime firing had
ceased entirely, and the men in the pits swung their
hats, and danced and pranced and — ate like gluttons.
General Merritt headed his command as it advanced
to the pits. When he saw the wreck and carnage, the
dead and wounded, and viewed the signs of massacre
on every hand, he turned aside and wept like a child.
This evidence of feeling on the part of the commander
brought out cheers on every side, and while not un
mindful of their dead comrades, the hour was one of
rejoicing over the raise of the siege.
Several witnesses describe the arrival of Merritt
and his troops, and say that when the General met
Captain Payne, the two threw their arms around each
other, and that tears were shed. That is not unlikely.
Both men were exhausted, Payne by his wounds and
anxiety, Merritt by his long march. As for the rest,
there is no concealment about the tears. There was
such a scene in that wretched corral for five or ten
minutes as few men witness twice in a lifetime, or
want to.
A company of fresh men was ordered forward to
the scene of the battle, about eight hundred yards
south of the pits. In making this trip a lively skir-
THE UTE WAR. 43
mish took place with a band of concealed Indians,
during which a considerable number of shots were
exchanged, but only two men were killed and five
wounded. In the midst of the skirmish, and to the
surprise of every one, Brady, the white courier from
Ouray and his Ute chiefs, stepped out from the brush
on the mountain side, waving a flag of truce. Merritt
permitted the courier to advance, and held a brief
parley with him, in which the message to Douglass
that the troops would go to the agency was delivered.
While the talk was in progress firing ceased. Finally
Merritt told Brady to " go back where he came from.
He would not talk with him." The truce party then
withdrew, and no more was seen or heard of the hos-
tiles by the soldiers around Thornburgh Pass.
Lieutenant Hughes was one of the first to see
Thornburgh's body, as it lay where it fell on the field
of battle. The Lieutenant says there were five or six
wounds in the body, and that the scalp from the
crown back was removed — the only scalp taken in
the fight or in isolated murders. Thornburgh was
stripped, and lying on his back, and on his breast
was a photograph of the young Chief Wammaniche.
It was discovered in visiting the battle field after
the siege that during the stampede of the wagon
train by the Indians the trunk of Lieutenant Cherry,
who covered the retreat and brought off the wounded,
was secured by the Indians and broken open. They
took everything of the contents but a bible, and left
Lieutenant Cherry's picture in the trunk with the
scalp of the likeness carefully cut out.
The force at the pass after General Merritt's arrival
numbered all told 800 men — thirteen companies.
The troops remained in camp three days, when Gen
eral Merritt went south to the agency while Captain
Dodge and his company acted as escort for the body
44 THE UTE WAR.
of Captain Thornburgh and the wounded to Rawlins,
which point was reached on the eighteenth.
In writing the account of the siege, which closes
with the preceding paragraph, the arrival of the Dodge
relief party and of Merritt's rescuing army is included.
The exploits performed by these two commands and
their wonderful marches to the trenches in the pass,
present two of the most extraordinary events in the
military service.
The courier who brought the news of the Thorn-
burgh fight came direct to Rawlins and by 3 o'clock
on the morning of his arrival, October ist, the intelli
gence had been flashed to Fort Omaha. General
Williams in less than a quarter of an hour was at
work giving orders, consulting General Crook, who
was in Chicago, and ordering matters forward. General
Merritt, at Fort D. A. Russell, Cheyenne, was tele
graphed to and ordered to the command of the expe
dition. The message was carried by the operator who
received it at the latter place, to the General at his
headquarters on horseback at break-neck speed.
General Merritt at once began preparing for the expe
dition. The same was true of the arrangements at
Camp Douglass, Salt Lake, and no time was lost, but
everything perfected at short notice at Forts McPher-
son and Sanders. This activity was also displayed
by the Pacific Railroad. Though called to do almost
extraordinary things it worked in harmony with the
military, and the troops were all en route to Rawlins
in a few hours, from which point succor was to be
sent out. A special train of four cars of troops from
Camp Douglass left Ogden at 2 p. m. of that day for
Rawlins. Three hundred men and six hundred
horses left Cheyenne the same hour for Rawlins.
One company left Fort Sanders and two companies
of cavalry left Fort Steele. The latter had their
THE UTE WAR. 45
horses, baggage, etc., with them. Troops were
ordered forward from Forts Fetterman and Robinson
to leave for the seat of war as soon as they might
reach the railroad, by special train. General Merritt,
to whom the command of the expedition was given,
was considered one of the best Indian fighters in the
country, and his troops have accomplished wonderful
things. At 11:45 ^e morning of the ist, he tele
graphed to General Williams that he would be ready
and start at 4 o'clock on the morning of the 2nd
with a force of nearly five hundred and fifty men and
animals, and provisions in plenty.
Early on the morning of the 2nd, General Mer
ritt, at the head of four companies of cavalry, three
hundred men, left Rawlins for the rescue, closely fol
lowed by five companies of infantry, two hundred and
fifty strong, in wagons. Merritt was accompanied by
Scout Rankin. On the 6th, Colonel Gilbert, of Fort
Snelling, Minnesota, who had been placed in charge
of Merritt's supporting column, left Rawlins with six
companies of the Seventh Infantry, three companies
of the Third, and three of the Fifth Cavalry ; in all
four hundred and forty men. Merritt's march to the
rescue will be memorable as one of the most eager,
energetic and rapid on record. The distance from
Rawlins to the rifle pits is one hundred and sixty
miles, and Merritt made the distance in forty-eight
hours, transporting five companies of infantry in
wagons. " Old Wesley," it was said, would " come
with a whirl," and he did.
The experience of the Dodge command, while a
small body of men, was none the less thrilling and
exciting, and the intrepidity of their ride to the relief,
after learning of Payne's situation, has been honorably
mentioned by General Sherman.
The company, forty-three strong, under command
46 THE UTE WAR.
of Captain Dodge, Lieutenant Hughes being next in
command, left Fort Garland August 4, under orders
to proceed to Middle Park and remain there as dis
cretion directed, to prevent any collision between the
settlers and the Indians. Camp was struck ten miles
below Hot Sulphur Springs on the iQth of August
Here the command remained until the 2/th of August,
when the troops proceeded to Peck's crossing of the
roads leading to Rawlins and the agency. A halt of
two days was made at this point for advices from the
agency, when the command started back, as the
rations were out. On the return route a communica
tion was received to proceed to the agency to assist
in the arrest of Indians* under authority of the Agent.
The command secured rations at Steamboat Springs
and then took up the line of march for the agency.
On the I Qth of September, Mansfield the courier
from the agency was met. He bore the second of
the three messages sent by Agent Meeker. On the
2Oth, the command started in quick time for the
agency. The morning of the following day a slip of
white paper was found attached to a bush by the side
of the trail, with the injunctionMn large characters to
hurry on the troops, as the soldiers at the agency had
been massacred. This word, it was afterwards learned,
had been left by a man named Clark, a ranchman.
The Dodge command pushed on to Bear River, about
ten miles further on, and here it was discovered that
ranches had been deserted, and fleeing ranchmen who
were met declared that the soldiers would be slaugh
tered if they proceeded. These messages and indica
tions of the uprising only hastened the movements
of the company and on they pushed. While waiting
on Bear River for the wagons to close up, Mansfield,
the courier, again appeared, this time in company
with Gordon, the freighter, whom he had met, and
THE UTE WAR. 47
who bore messages from Captain Payne. The word
conveyed was that the troops were corralled, with
forty wounded men, and sorely pushed. Gordon was
the third courier sent out from the beleaguered com
mand, and Captain Dodge knew from this that the
other two had gone on their errand to Merritt. Gor
don himself bore a message to General Merritt, but
it fortunately fell into Dodge's hands, at the same
time assuring all that the two other messengers had
gone on safely. After the receipt of this advice
Dodge proceeded eleven miles, it then being dark,
and pitched camp. It was the belief that they were
watched by Indians, and they planned to go into
camp as if intending to remain all night, and then
during the darkness to steal away in their march to
Payne's rescue. Gordon and Mansfield and a mail
carrier from Middle Park, who had acted as guide,
were with the command and aided in directing the
ruse, and the course of the troops. An hour after
the night was on them, camp was broke, and the com
pany, at first as quietly as possible, but soon after
with abandon, rode as hard as possible in the direc
tion of the Thornburgh ambush. The company rode
all night, the wagons being sent to Fortification from
Peck's, and just before daybreak, about half-past four
o'clock, the command reached within hailing distance
of the besieged troops. The ride thus accomplished
was one of the bravest on record, not so much from
the daring or exposure, as from its rapidity and the
fact that every moment an ambush was looked for.
The distance from the spot where the news of the
Thornburgh massacre was received to the rifle pits
was eighty miles by the trail followed, and it was
accomplished in twenty-three hours.
CHAPTER V.
ON TO THE AGENCY THE INDIAN FORTIFICATIONS SUR
RENDERED — MERRITT'S MARCH TO POWELL VALLEY —
A ROADSIDE STREWN WITH THE BODIES OF WHITE MEN
AND PLUNDERED TRAINS THE REMAINS OF A SOL
DIER, GORDON, TWO FREIGHTERS, ISAAC GOLDSTEIN,
JULIUS MOORE AND YOUNG DRESSER DISCOVERED — THE
STORY OF THE JEW THE QUIET DESOLATION OF THE
AGENCY ASHES AND ASHES — DISCOVERY OF THE BOD
IES OF THE AGENT AND EMPLOYES.
Dispatches sent out from Rawlins on the nth of
October, based upon information which had been
brought through from the front, stated that, having
reached Milk River and relieved Payne's command,
and recovered the remains of Major Thornburgh,
General Merritt found himself unable to proceed fur
ther south, thus increasing tenfold the suspense felt
concerning the fate of the people at the agency. It
was stated that the Indians still occupied their for
midable position on the bluffs overlooking the road, or
trail, to the agency, and it was known that they had
built fortifications and were prepared to resist an ad
vance while taking very little risk upon themselves.
Having no artillery General Merritt found that it
would be almost impossible to dislodge the enemy.
They occupied a position covering and commanding
the only road passing through the Milk River Canon.
To illustrate the advantage of position occupied by
the Indians, it is stated by those who were in the
siege that an Indian, from his position in the bluffs,
lying behind his breastwork, entirely safe and yet
THE UTE WAR. 49
commanding a full view of the fortifications, killed
forty horses belonging to Payne's and Dodge's com
mands.
Information had already been received, through
Indian runners employed by Chief Ouray at Uncom-
pahgre agency, that the Agent and the employes of
the agency had fallen victims to the relentless knives
and bullets of the so-called noble red man. It was
also ascertained from the same source that the women
had been made captives by the savages, and while
every assurance was given that Mrs. Meeker, her
daughter Miss Josephine, Mrs. Price and her two chil
dren, were entirely unharmed, there was still much
room to doubt these stones, and every reason to fear
the worst, while the best was hoped for. The report
of the massacre of the male members of the agency
was generally credited, but nothing certain was
known. The greatest suspense prevailed upon all
hands ; hence the disappointment felt when the news
was spread broadcast over the land that General Mer-
ritt would be unable to proceed to the agency until
Colonel Gilbert, then at Fortification Creek with four
hundred soldiers, should arrive to reinforce him.
Twelve days had already elapsed since the massacre,
and no news, except the unsatisfactory reports gath
ered from Indian runners, had been received.
But while the world at large was discussing this sad
situation of affairs, General Merritt was solving the
problem. In fact, he had really marched on to White
River, and had become fully informed of the condition
matters were in, before the news of the resistance of
the Indians had been telegraphed abroad. The In
dians remained in their fortifications until the runner
left carrying the news above referred to, but deserted
them soon afterwards, on the loth. It is a well-
known fact that they employed spies, who watched
4.
5<D THE UTE WAR.
the progress of troops from the north, and who were
thoroughly informed as to the steps taken to reinforce
Merritt and supply him with provisions and ammuni
tion. Seeing and appreciating resistance would be in
vain, the hostiles suddenly withdrew, leaving the field
to General Merritt, who lost no time in taking advan
tage of the situation and of pushing on to the agency.
He accordingly took up his line of march and reached
White River Agency, or the site of the agency, on the
nth of October, the very day on which the news that
he would not be able to proceed had been given out.
The story which his march revealed is a sad one.
It is a genuine frontier tale, as startling and pathetic
as any of the works of fiction to which American
border life has given birth. Sadder, because true.
The people of Colorado have tried in vain, when
perusing the blood-curdling narratives as they have
appeared from day to day in the newspapers, to imag
ine that they were reading stories which had had their
origin alone in the hot-house brain of some sensational
Indian story-teller. But we all knew "Father"
Meeker, as the good old Agent was called. He was
universally known, and his family and the employes at
the agency were widely known of. The facts were
facts; disagreeable but stubborn, and self-assertive.
Hard as it was, we were forced to see that Colorado,
a new, but one of the most prosperous and progress
ive States of the Union, had sustained an Indian
massacre within her borders. General Merritt had
not proceeded far on his march before he discovered
this unpalatable fact.
When Mr. Meeker went to the agency at White
River, he set about to make it in every way respect
able, and being a man determined to do what was
right by the Indians and the government, he was nat
urally anxious to surround himself with people in
THE UTE WAR. 5 I
whom he could place implicit confidence. He accord
ingly selected as employes at the agency men, most
of them unmarried, whom he had known at Greeley,
all of them sober, industrious and intelligent. The
white people at the agency were :
Agent N. C. Meeker.
Mrs. N. C. Meeker.
Miss Josephine Meeker.
Frank Dresser.
Harry Dresser.
Ed. L. Mansfield.
William H. Post.
Mr. and Mrs. Price.
May Price, aged 3 years.
Johnnie Price, aged 18 months.
Fred. Shepard.
George Eaton.
Young Thomson.
Of the males of this party, only Mr. Mansfield, if
we except Mrs. Price's little boy, survives. He owes
his life to the fact that he was sent out with messages
just previous to the massacre.
Signs of the work of the savages met the command
at every turn after they left the scene of the siege.
They left behind them the dead bodies of comrades
in arms to find the corpses of the unfortunate men
who had attempted to serve the government in a dif
ferent capacity. The road was literally strewn with
the nude and decaying remains of white men, whom
chance had thrown in the way of the savages. The
carcasses of innumerable horses were found, and the
remains of one soldier passed lying by the roadside.
The poor soldier had been stripped of all his clothing.
On his left forearm was worked in India ink a star and
shield, and on the right forearm the initials "A. B."
In Fifteen- mile Canon the ruins of several small trains
52 THE UTE WAR.
employed in forwarding agency goods, notably the
train of which George Gordon, of Rawlins, had charge,
were passed. His loads consisted mainly of various
sorts of agricultural appliances, hoes, spades, picks,
shovels, and several sorts of wire fence. To the fence
the Utes are reported to have objected strongly, be
cause their ponies injured their feet and legs on coming
into contact with it, and they warned Mr. Meeker that
he would not be permitted to put up any more of it.
At this point Gordon, the freighter, and two of his
train employes were killed, names unknown, and the
bodies rest in one grave, marked with a rough board.
A few miles further south are to be seen the charred
remnants of a thresher and separator, and piles of
broken crockery ware, while about the same distance
north the Utes destroyed a wagon loaded with coffee
and sugar, and at two other points are to be seen the
remnants of burned trains.
The soldiers had marched but a few miles when the
advance guard came upon another body, the remains
of a white man, when, as the story was told to a cor
respondent of the Denver Tribune, who was on the
ground, a conversation, of which the following is a
report, occurred :
"What have we here ?" asked one soldier of a com
rade.
" It looks like the body of a man ; and it is."
" It's a white man, too."
"To be sure it is, and terribly mangled and muti
lated. The red devils have got in their work on some
unfortunate fellow. "
Investigation revealed the fact that the body was
that of Isaac Goldstein, an Israelite who was called
' The Jew, " and whose proper name was known to
but very few. Fortunately there was one soldier in
the command to whom the old man had confided the
THE UTE WAR. 53
secrets of his heart, and among others his great
secret, the history of his own life, which though con
taining material for a volume may be related here in
a few words and without marring this narrative,
indeed as properly a part of it. Old Isaac was be
tween fifty and sixty years of age but, he looked
to be seventy. He was ever sad and uncommunica
tive, seeming to bear about with him a burden which,
while it weighed him down, he did not care to share
with others. But becoming friendly with this soldier,
a private in General Merritt's ranks, he gradually con
fided the story of his romantic career to him. In
his early manhood Isaac Goldstein had loved a fair
daughter of Israel as he loved not his own life. They
lived in an eastern city, and a few months promised
to see them united as man and wife. This young lady
had a brother who had gone to California among the
first who were attracted to the gold coast. At first he
prospered and was cheerful and hopeful in his letters.
At last he lost his health and was low spirited and
despondent. His sister, whose name was Rebecca,
determined at once to go {x> her brother to comfort,
and, if possible, cure him. She had an opportunity
to, and did, join the unfortunate party in its overland
trip which perished at Mountain Meadow at the
hands of the Mormons and the Indians combined.
Isaac waited a long, long time for tidings of his love.
At last the sad news of the massacre came. He at
once came west to investigate the matter, and has
here remained since. He was never convinced that
his Rebecca had been killed, but believed her to have
been made a captive by the Indians. He determined
to seek her out, and for many, very many, long years
he had been searching and searching in vain for her,
going from tribe to tribe, and gaining the confidence
of the Indians that he might the more successfully
54 THE UTE WAR.
prosecute the search. That the Utes now of Colorado
took part in the Mountain Meadow affair is estab
lished almost beyond dispute. And thus, according
to the story related by the soldier over the remains
of the long, grey bearded old man as they lay on the
hard sand-stones of the bottom of Milk River Canon,
came " The Jew " to be engaged in trading with
Douglass's Indians.
The few auditors who gathered around the surviv
ing friend of the old Jew, listened with interest and
attention to the narrative. It was received with a sigh
by all and derision by none. A few moments more
and the remains of "The Wandering Jew" were hid
den away in a trench dug for the purpose, and covered
with earth, and the following legend appears on the
simple stone grave mark :
ISAAC GOLDSTEIN.
Killed by Indians
Sept. 29, 1879.
About two hundred yards from the spot where the
body of old man Goldstein was found, the body of his
trading companion, Julius Moore, a young man from
Bainbridge, Mass., was also discovered, stripped of all
clothing, and decaying, on the mountain side. Both
Goldstein and Moore had been shot through the
breast, and in the breast of each there were two bullet
holes. Moore's body was badly hacked and mutilated.
It also was buried.
Passing on a short distance the command came
upon a coal mine, the mouth of which opened upon
the canon. Looking into this they discovered another
body, which from papers found upon the person, was
judged to be the body of Harry Dresser. He bore a
letter from Agent Meeker, which read as follows :
" WHITE RIVER, September 29, i o'clock P. M.
" Major Tkornburgh :
" I will come with Chief Douglass and another chief
THE UTE WAR. 55
and meet you to-morrow. Everything is quiet here,
and Douglass is flying the United States flag. We
have been on guard three nights, and will be to-night
— not that we expect any trouble, but because there
might be. Did you have any trouble coming through
the canon ?
"N. C. MEEKER,
" United States Indian Agent."
The bearer of this message had crawled a short dis
tance into the mouth of the shaft, where he was found
dead, with his shirt bundled up for a pillow and under
his head, he having died in that condition after having
been shot in the head.
The soldiers also discovered in the fortifications of
the Indians, the 'body of an unknown white man sit
ting in a squatting posture, with his gun in his hands
as if ready to shoot. He is believed to have been a
renegade who after fighting with the Indians, had
been shot by them out of pure deviltry on the eve of
their departure for the south.
A few hours march carried the command to the
site of the agency. Of course every member was on
the tip-toe of expectation — all anxious to discover
what was to be found, and still all fearful to do so,
because the worst was feared. The view which
greeted their anxious gaze was one not to be for
gotten. White River gurgled quietly on and seemed
to be the only living object left. There was not
even a breeze blowing to stir the tops of the trees
which line the hill-sides surrounding the beautiful
Powell Bottom in which the agency was located.
Everything was dead. The quiet of the grave
reigned. The soldiers felt instinctively before reach
ing the actual location of the agency buildings that
they were in the region of the lifeless.
So they were. The story of the finding of the
56 THE UTE WAR.
nude and mutilated bodies of Father Meeker and
those who had cast their lot with him among savage
men and women, has already been printed in almost
every newspaper in the land, and the sickening, but
necessary details dwelt upon until the reader has been
almost surfeited with the narrative. We will not
linger over a picture so sad and disagreeable — a pic
ture of the utmost loneliness, desolation, and death — a
picture which has no bright side, not one pleasant
corner.
All the buildings except one, the house which had
been built for Johnson, had been burned to the
ground. The Indians had taken everything except
the agency flour and decamped. The women and
children were missing, and nothing whatever could be
found to indicate what had become of them. It was
evident that they had either been murdered and
buried or else taken away as hostages.
The Indian Agent, N. C. Meeker, was found lying
dead about two hundred yards from his headquarters,
with one side of his head mashed. An iron chain,
the size of which is commonly known as a log chain,
was found encircled about his neck, and a piece of a
flour barrel stave had been driven through his mouth.
When found his body was in an entire state of nudity,
and was lying on the back. A bullet hole through
the head indicated plainly the cause of death. The
dead body of Mr. W. H. Post, Father Meeker's assist
ant, was found between the buildings and the river, a
bullet hole through the left ear and one under the
ear. He, as well as Father Meeker, was stripped en
tirely naked. Mr. Price, the agency blacksmith, was
found dead with two bullet holes through his left
breast. The Indians had taken all his clothing and
he was found naked. Thomson's remains were found
burned to a crisp. His gun was found by his side.
THE UTE WAR. 57
E. W. Eskridge was found about two miles north of
the agency. He was stripped to an entire state of
nudity, and had his head mashed in as if he had
been struck over the head with some heavy appliance.
Eaton was found dead. He was stripped naked,
and had a bundle of paper bags in his arms. His face
was badly eaten by wolves. There was a bullet hole
in his left breast. Frank Dresser (a brother to the
one found in the coal mine, as was at first supposed),
was found badly burned. He had, without doubt,
been killed instantly, as a bullet had passed through
his heart.
The bodies were all buried and proper inscriptions
placed over their graves. They will be allowed
to remain where they now are until next spring,
when they will be removed to the town of Greeley,
where their friends and relatives will be allowed to
drop a sympathetic tear upon their coffins, and their
bones be permitted to rest among those of their kin
dred, and not in a strange and savage land.
CHAPTER VI.
THE AGENCY MASSACRE INCIDENTS PRECEDING AND
LEADING UP TO THE BUTCHERY INDIAN STEALING
AND BURNING OF TIMBER FURTHER QUOTATIONS
FROM COLONEL STEELE PURCHASING AMMUNITION
JACK'S STATEMENT TO A TRADER THE SUNDAY WAR
DANCE SCOUT LOWRY'S REPORT SECRET PREPARA
TIONS THE FIRING BEGUN FRANK DRESSER'S TEM
PORARY ESCAPE IMPRISONMENT OF THE WOMEN —
THEIR FLIGHT THEIR CAPTURE — DRESSER'S FATE
MRS. MEEKER'S LAST LOOK AT HER HUSBAND.
This is the bloody chapter of our little history —
the story of the butchery of the agency people by the
Indians, the one great crime of the record. We have
already seen that the savages had become greatly dis
satisfied with Agent Meeker and anxious for a change.
Their savage nature had not accepted with good grace
the gentle manners and other reforms which he made
an effort to introduce. The Agent had commenced
early in the spring to prepare for a good crop of
wheat and corn. He had planted potatoes and onions
and beans; had fenced the ground, dug wells and
built irrigating ditches. But the Indians made serious
complaint at these innovations, and did not hesitate to
express their displeasure, not more in word than in
deed. They made frequent protests to Mr. Meeker,
and at last sent a delegation of four, which was headed
by Captain Jack, one of the White River chiefs, to
Denver, to lay the complaints of the Indians before
His Excellency Governor Pitkin. While in this city
these commissioners from the Indian nation made no
THE UTE WAR. 59
threats, but many complaints, bewailing bitterly that
the Agent should attempt to plow the ground and his
daughter to teach the young Indians the English lan
guage and the ways of the white man. They gave
the Governor to understand that they thought their
civilization much superior to that of the white man, and
said that they much preferred that the Agent would
give them their food and leave them to live their own
lives.
During the entire summer, complaints were, being
made of the hostile demonstrations of the Utes along
the line of their reservation, north, east and south, and
constant fears were entertained of an outbreak and
massacre, at almost any small mining settlement in
North Park, or along the Grand, Eagle, Gunnison,
Dolores or Animas, while apprehensions were also
felt for the fate of the stock raisers along the Bear
and Snake rivers and in Middle Park. Two miners
who ventured across the Indian line on the Blue Riv
er were shot down like dogs and other parties were
fired upon for crossing over, and this at a time when
the Indians were coming and going, hunting and
camping and stealing, as suited them, on the white
man's side of the line. During almost the entire
month of July, the country was on fire. From the
Wyoming line to the New Mexico boundary, the
great Continental Divide was a blaze of fire. Thous
ands of acres were burned over, and millions of dollars
worth of timber on the reservation and off of it were
destroyed, and game of all kinds driven out and
burned. This the savages were not loth to acknowl
edge they did to spite the whites.
In this connection we cannot do better than to quote
again from the account of Colonel Steele's visit to the
agency, written since the horrible scenes of September
29th. Colonel Steele says :
6O THE UTE WAR.
"Early in July last I was called to Rawlins, Colo
rado, to look after the mail route from that point to
White River Agency. I remained at Dixon, on Snake
River, several days. While there, Indians belonging
to the Ute chief, Colorow's outfit, frequently came to
Dixon to trade buckskin and furs for Winchester rifles,
ammunition and other supplies. I learned that they
were camped on Snake River, Fortification Creek and
Bear River, from fifty to one hundred miles from their
reservation. The'Indians seemed to be quiet, but set
tlers complained that the Indians were burning the
grass and timber, and occasionally killing their cattle
and doing much damage to the country. I also heard
much complaint from the mining district near Hahn's
Peak and Middle Park ; that the Indians were burn
ing the timber, and had burned the houses of several
settlers and killed one man. Smoke was at that time
plainly visible from large fires on the head-waters of
the Snake and Bear rivers. On completing my busi
ness on the mail route, I returned to Washington.
The first week in September I was called, (by distur
bances on this mail route) to visit it again. Arriving
at Rawlins, Mr. Bennett, the sub-contractor for the
route told me that he had attempted to establish his
line of mail carriers on the route; that he had gone as
far south as Fortification Creek, where he was met by
Utes belonging to Colorow and Ute Jack's band ; that
three Indians stopped him and told him that he must
go back; that he parleyed with them and finally went
on as far as Bear River, where he was met by more
Indians of the same tribe, and though he fully explain
ed his business to them, he was so violently threaten
ed that he returned to Rawling without establishing
the mail route. Bennett has freighted Indian supplies
to the Ute reservation for several years, and knows
many of the Indians. He was accompanied by a man
THE UTE WAR. 6 1
who has lived among the Utes for years, and with
whom they have heretofore been friendly. Both ad
vised that it would be dangerous to attempt to go to
the agency. On the night of September 4th, I
arrived at Snake River, and on the 5th went to Bear
River, meeting no Indians on the way, but finding the
grass and timber destroyed by fire all the way along
the route. I remained at Bear River several days en-
endeavoring to find parties to carry the mail to the
agency. Many -of the settlers were alarmed by the
hostile actions of the Utes. Others anticipated no
trouble, but all complained of the burning of the grass
and timber. On the morning of September loth, I
started with two mail carriers for the agency. We
rode over the route followed by Major Thornburgh's
command, and at noon rested at the mouth of the
canon where the battle has since taken place. Here
at a tent occupied by an Indian trader, and two miles
from the reservation, we met a number of Utes, one
of whom asked where I was going. I told him to the
agency. After a short talk with other Indians, he
told me we must go back. I mac^e no reply, but
leaving one of the carriers at the tent, I proceeded up
the canon in which the Indians laid the ambuscade
for Major Thornburgh's command, toward the agency.
The Indians followed us to the agency. I afterwards
learned that they belonged to Ute Jack's party.
" On the return trip to Bear River I met many
Indians going to the agency for the issue of rations.
Several of the bucks hailed me, but I hadn't time to
stop. At the trader's in the canon I found several
Indians purchasing supplies. At the crossing of
Howard's Fork, thirty miles from the agency, I met
three Indians, two of whom I saw at the agency the
night before. They stopped me and inquired for
ammunition for Winchester rifles. I replied, 'No
62 THE UTE WAR.
sabe. ' After detaining me for nearly one-half hour I
persuaded them to let me pass, and reached Rawlins
without further incident worthy of mention."
Having written this account of his experiences,
Colonel Steele adds an opinion or two of his own,
which are all the more forcible for coming from a
government employe :
" Eastern papers, the Secretary of the Interior and
others are seeking some provocation for this out
break. It was not the encroachment of miners, for
there are none nearer than Hahn's Peak, one hundred
miles away. It was not settlers, for there are none
nearer than Bear River, fifty miles from the agency ;
they are few and scattered, and their only safety for
life and property has been in retaining the friendship
of the Utes. On the other hand, these Utes have
since early summer been off their reservation from fifty
to two hundred miles. They have destroyed all the tim
ber and grass they could, have destroyed the property
of miners near Hahn's Peak, and burned the houses
and hay of settlers on Bear River ; they have killed
cattle belonging to settlers on Bear and Snake Rivers,
and terrorized that whole region. They complained
only that Father Meeker urged on them the benefits
of civilization. I knew that these Indians meant war.
Early in the summer they occupied the territory over
which troops must pass to reach them. Slowly they
retreated toward the agency, burning the grass to
render it difficult for cavalry to operate against them.
They purchased arms and ammunition of the most
improved pattern and in large quantities. Within six
weeks of the outbreak one trader sold them three
cases of Winchesters and a large amount of ammuni
tion, and the last Utes I met inquired of me for more.
They gathered disaffected bucks from the Uncom-
pahgre and Uinta agencies, and got mad because the
THE UTE WAR. 63
agent at White River would not feed them. When
everything was ready they assaulted Agent Meeker
and shot at his employes to provoke an attack by the
troops, and when the troops approached, with peace
ful intent, to adjust the difficulty and right the wrongs
of all parties, they laid an ambuscade and prepared to
annihilate the whole command."
The trade in guns and ammunition with the Indians
was unusually active during the entire summer. The
post office for the Snake River settlement is at Dixon,
about seventy miles south of Rawlins, and here there
is a general Indian trader named Perkins, who is
reported to have done more trading with the Utes
this season than in five years before, and it is natural
to suppose from recent accounts, that the bulk of it
has been in war material. It is also said that the
trader on Bear River (Peck) and Taylor, on Milk
Creek, have had similar experience in this business
with the Utes. Just the day before the Thornburgh
fight it is reported that a party of Utes, headed by
Jack, visited one of these traders and possessed them
selves forcibly of a case of Winchester cartridges,
saying they expected to fight the white soldiers on
Monday.
All of this goes to prove that the White River
Utes were expecting and preparing during the entire
summer to fight, and had perhaps, long before the
massacre occurred, determined to kill the Agent.
That they were no longer in doubt as to the course
they meant to pursue after they ascertained that the
soldiers were coming in, we are forced to believe.
The assertion of Jack quoted above is proof sufficient
of this. The note found on the body of young
Dresser, whose body was found in the coal shaft as
above described, is another indication of this fact,
though we are told that Douglass was flying the
64 THE UTE WAR.
American colors. Mr. Lowry, the Snake River set
tler, who was among the killed in the Thornburgh
disaster, on Sunday previous to the fight made his
way to the agency, found the Indians in their war
paint, dancing and about ready to massacre Meeker
and family and the other whites there. He succeeded
in arguing them out of their intention, however, by
assuring them that there would be no trouble, and,
having effected this, started back with difficulty to
Thornburgh's command, reporting to the Major
that if he pursued his march towards the agency the
Utes would doubtless carry out their original inten
tions and massacre the agency people. The Major,
however, said he must obey orders, and his command
was headed toward the agency when the bloody events
transpired of which the reader has already had aft
account.
On that same day Miss Josephine Meeker wrote a
letter to her sister at Greeley saying that all was quiet
and peaceable again. Johnson had apologized to her
father for his conduct, and expressed himself sorry for
what had happened. She felt quite as safe there as in
Greeley. The Indians had removed their women and
children, and instead of there bfcing one hundred and
fifty tepees in the vicinity now there were only four.
The military were expected every day, and Mr.
Meeker had sent two Indians and a white man to
meet them, but the Indians soon returned much
alarmed. Mr. Dresser of Greeley also received a
letter of the same date from his son Frank, who
expressed himself similarly as to the safety of all at
the agency. He said the only fear they had was that
some of the Indians might set fire to some of the hay
belonging to the agency, and to guard against this
some of the boys mounted guard at night, otherwise
they slept as soundly as in Greeley.
THE UTE WAR. 65
Before these letters had passed out of the Indian
reservation, the massacre of the Agent and employes
and the burning of the buildings had been consum
mated. The Indians had been preparing, but secretly,
for the worst. The removal of the squaws, which
Miss Meeker seems to have regarded rather favorably
than otherwise, was a very bad omen. The fate of
the agency people was sealed then. The savages
had already doubtless determined in council of war
what plan to pursue, and could have foretold to an
hour the fate of the few whites among them.
N. C. MEEKER.
The dreadful day gradually approached. Thorn-
burgh was expected to reach the agency on Tuesday
at noon with the troops. The Indians, who at first
were angry, brightened up, evidently at the thought
of getting Thornburgh to Milk River Canon. Doug
lass sent two Indians, with one white man, Mr. Esk-
ridge, to meet Thornburgh.
5
66 THE UTE WAR.
On the morning of the massacre Douglass came to
the agency and spoke of soldiers coming. Mr.
Meeker said :
" Let them crime. They will not hurt any one.
But we will send for all the chiefs and head captains
and hear their complaints and talk the matter over. "
Douglass did' not say much and went away. The
Indian Paveetz, husband of the notorious Jane, asked
Mrs. Meeker on Saturday, Sunday and Monday if she
was afraid. She said, " No, " and each time he
received the reply with a "knowing" look which it
has since been very easy to translate into a warning
or hint of the fate of the agency people.
Secretly the Utes were preparing for the massacre.
Just before Eskridge left with the Indians, a runner
was seen rushing up to the tent of Douglass with, as
was afterwards learned, news of the soldiers fighting.
Half an hour later twenty armed Indians came to the
agency from the camp of Douglass and began firing.
They seem to have marched quietly down from their
camp to the agency quarters and without any extra
" ado " began to deliberately shoot down the employes
wherever found. Mr. Eskridge, who had been sent
out with a second message to Thornburgh, was killed
two miles from the agency, and the others were killed
about the buildings, with the exception of Frank
Dresser.
The firing began about half-past one, immediately
after dinner at the agency. Douglass, the chief to
whom so many good qualities were attributed before
the outbreak and who has since proven himself to be
one of the most cruel and heartless, as well as one of
the most hypocritical of the savages, had eaten din
ner with the employes. After the meal had been con
cluded he staid about the table, joking in a lively
manner with Mrs. Meeker, Miss Josephine and Mrs.
THE UTE WAR. 6/
Price. He drank a little coffee and ate some bread
and butter. Suddenly he turned around and went
out doors. Mr. Price and Mr. Thompson and Frank
Dresser were working on the building a few steps
from the house and the chief joined them. He seemed
to be in very good spirits and was joking with the
men.
A few minutes afterwards the firing began. Mrs.
Meeker and her daughter were washing dishes in one
of the houses and Mrs. Price was washing some
clothing at the door when the first report was heard.
This was quickly followed by another. There came
a volley of firearms — a succession of sharp explosions.
It was startling and all knew what was coming. Miss
Josephine and her mother looked into each other's
faces. Mrs. Price, who was washing clothes at the
door, rushed in, exclaiming:
"My God! the Indians are killing everybody; what
shall we do ? "
Josephine said, " Keep all together," and the girl
was as cool as if she were receiving callers in a parlor.
Just then Frank Dresser, an employe, staggered in,
shot through the leg. Miss Josie said :
" Here, Frank, is Mr. Price's gun."
It lay on the bed. He took it, and just as they were
fleeing out by the door the windows were smashed in
and half a dozen shots were fired into the room.
Frank fired and killed Chief Johnson's brother and
wounded another Indian who was passing him.
Then began the great suspense. The windows
were shot in and the bullets were flying everywhere.
The first move of the poor women was to get under
the bed in Josephine's room, to avoid the bullets,
which were whizzing over their heads. Josephine-
had the key of the milk house and proposed to go
there. The bullets were flying like hailstones, but
68 THE UTE WAR.
the women and children and Dresser succeeded in
reaching the place suggested, and they locked them
selves into the house, which had double walls filled
in with adobe clay, and there was only one little win
dow. They stayed there all the afternoon, and heard
no sounds but the crash of the guns. They knew all
the men were being killed, and expected that the
Indians would finish the day with the butchery of the
women. Firing went on for several hours at intervals.
There was no shouting, no noise, but frequent firing.
While waiting in this horrid suspense Dresser said he
had gone to the employes rooms, where all guns were
stored, but found them stolen. In the intervals of
shooting Dresser would exclaim :
" There goes one of the government guns."
Their sound was quite different from that of the
Indians.
The party stayed in the milk room until it began
to fill with smoke. While in the building they
barely whispered, and tried to keep Mrs. Price's babies
still. As the fire was increasing they left the milk
house cautiously, and Josephine reconnoitred the
enemy.
" It's a good time to escape," said she. " The
Indians are busy stealing agency goods."
The shouting had ceased when, at about five o'clock
they began to see the smoke curling through the
cracks. Mrs. Price said :
" Josie, we have got to get cut of here ; you take
May, I'll take baby, and we will try to escape in the
sage brush across the road."
Miss Josie took May's hand and they went out, but
first went into Mr. Meeker's room. It was not dis
turbed. The doors were open and the books were
lying on the stand as he had left them. " Pepy's
Diary " lay open on the table. It was at first thought
THE UTE WAR. 69
by the party that it would be well to secrete them
selves in Mr. Meeker's room, but they ultimately de
cided to try to escape then, as the Indians were busily
engaged in stealing annuity goods, and as there was
also a strong probability of their burning the house.
They had broken open the warehouse and were pack
ing blankets on their ponies. They started for the
garden, when Frank said:
" Perhaps we can hide in the sage brush and
escape."
He ran through the gate in the field with Mr.
Price's rifle. He was near the field when last seen.
Mrs. Meeker and Mrs. Price went inside the field
through the wire fence. The Utes were so busy steal
ing annuity goods that they did not see the escaping
party at first. About thirty of them, loaded with
blankets, were carrying them toward Douglass's camp,
near the river. The fugitives had gone one hundred
yards when the Utes saw them. They threw down
the blankets and went running toward them, firing as
they went. Bullets were as thick as grasshoppers
around the fugitive women and poor little babies.
They tried to shoot Frank Dresser, who had almost
reached the sage brush, but merely shot to frighten
the women. However, Mrs. Meeker was hit by a
bullet, which went through her underclothing and
made a flesh wound three inches long.
As the Indians came nearer they shouted :
"We no shoot! Come to us! No shoot; white
woman good squaw ; come!"
Mrs. Meeker had fallen to the ground an easy prey.
She was taken to Douglass's tepee, while Mrs. Price
was taken possession of by an Uncompahgre Ute.
The women and children were dragged across the
irrigating canal and were wet to the skin when they
reached the Indian camp. They were quite rough in
/O THE UTE WAR.
handling their captives, but they said they would not
hurt them.
As for the butchery of the employes, no white per-
Son survived who witnessed it. The women and
children did not leave their hiding place until late,
and when they did come out the cruel work had been
accomplished. All was over. Mrs. Meeker in pass
ing across the grounds passed the prostrate form of
her husband, stripped with the exception of his shirt.
She stooped to kiss for the last time the cold, blue
lips, which had spoken so many kind and loving
words to her in their married life of thirty-five years,
but she was ordered by the brave Douglass to pass
on. This one last simple tribute was denied hen
The Indians 'say that most of the men took refuge in
a house, and that they fired it and ran the white men
out, killing them as they came. Their bodies were
doubtless left where they fell, and we tell in the pre
ceding chapter of how they were discovered by the
soldiers.
There is one error which may as well be ex
plained here. It was stated that Harry Dresser's
body was found in a coal bank about twelve miles
from the agency ; this proves to have been a mistake.
Josephine Meeker says that Harry was to have taken
a dispatch from her father to Thornburgh ; he was
prevented from going, and when the shooting began
was among the first victims. His brother Frank,
after being wounded in the leg, managed to reach the
house, and Josie gave him Price's gun. They all took
refuge in the milk house and remained there several
hours — until the smoke drove them to seek shelter
elsewhere. In the milk house Frank said Harry and
Eaton were the first shot. Frank and the women ran
for the sage brush, he being a little ahead. The
Indians, as soon as they saw them, threw down the
THE UTE WAR. /I
agency goods they were stealing from the warehouses,
and started for the fugitives, shooting as they ran, but
they told the women to stop, they would not shoot
them. Frank reached the sage brush. At this time
he had on neither coat nor vest, and no shoes, conse
quently could not travel over the cactus. He had
said that he should try to reach the troops that night,
and must have gone back to the agency after dark
and taken off the coat, vest and shoes from his
brother's body, and then tried to reach the soldiers ;
he got as far as the coal bank, where he most likely
encountered Indians and was again wounded by them
and crawled into the shaft to die.
The bodies of the eight unfortunate men repose in
a beautiful spot in Powell Bottom, underneath a clump
of cottonwood trees and near the crystal waters of
White River. The pines on the distant hillsides sing
the requiem to the dead, when stirred by the soft
winds of the valley. All is again peaceful and calm
on White River. There are no Indians there, and
nothing but dull, dead stones rise to assert the pres
ence of the bones of the martyred men. They were
honest, conscientious men, who died in the interest of
mankind. They will live in the memory of their
fellow-mortals.
CHAPTER VII.
THE SOLDIERS IN CAMP AT WHITE RIVER — WAITING FOR
ORDERS HOW THE TROOPS FARED AN ADVANCE
TO THE SOUTH RECALLED FROM WASHINGTON AND
A TRUCE ORDERED THE HUNTING PARTY DEATH
OF LIEUTENANT WEIR AND SCOUT HUMME — MORE
TROPHIES FOR THE UTES.
Merritt and his little army, now swelled by the
arrival of Colonel Gilbert's detachment, started for
the south on the nth and went into camp three miles
above the agency, headquarters being established and
a supply dep'ot located directly at the agency. The
strongest company in the gallant regiment hardly
numbered forty-five men, the smallest numbering
twenty-seven men. As soon as the camp was located
and the troops had commenced to recover from their
hard march and exposure, scouting parties were sent
out for a radius of fifty miles to ascertain, if possible,
the camp of the Indians, but in no case were any
"signs" discovered. As Merritt's orders had been
simply to go to the agency, the commander made no
further advance than an occasional reconnoissance in
the direction the Indians were supposed to have
retreated. In the meantime, while waiting for dis
patches as to what course to pursue, reinforcements
were gathering at Rawlins to be hastened on to Mer
ritt's support. Nine companies, under command of
Colonel Brackett, had reached Rawlins, waiting orders
to go forward. It was generally supposed that the
hostiles had divided into small bands and scattered to
different agencies, while the fate of the white women
THE UTE WAR. 73
was, of course, still in doubt. No orders, except to
restrain the Indians from violence and keep them at
the agency, having arrived, General Merritt, on the
morning of the I5th, at the head of seven hundred
men, with ten days' supplies and in light marching
order, started south, leaving Colonel Clifford with two
hundred and forty men to guard the agency. The
objective point was the camp of the hostiles who held
the agency women, which by this time, it was con
cluded, was located on Grand or Blue rivers. The
troops had only been on the march six hours when
dispatches arrived at the agency for the commander.
A courier at once started in pursuit of the army
moving south, as the dispatches were of importance.
They were orders suspending operations against the
Indians and directing the withdrawal ofvthe troops
under Merrit to their proper stations in the Depart
ment of the Platte, leaving sufficient number of men
at the agency to guard government property. Gen
eral Merritt was to remain in command and await
further orders, either at White or Bear River, as
negotiations for peace were in progress, and it was
understood that the hostiles would agree to surrender
the captives and be made to deliver those warriors
who had led the outbreak.
There was general regret felt all over the country
and especially in military circles, that the outbreak
was likely to be concluded without the troops chas
tising the red devils, and a universal feeling of disgust
at the disgraceful termination of the campaign. If
the Utes escaped deserved punishment this time it
was felt that frontier settlers had no guaranty what
ever that the Indians would not re-enact the same
terrible atrocities at will.
And so the soldiers went unwillingly into quarters,
returning to camp on White River on the i/th. The
74 THE UTE WAR.
weather was very pleasant. The troops had a nice
camp and very little sickness among the men. There
were immense herds of cattle on the surrounding hills
and the command was in daily supply of fresh beef.
The flour found on the storehouse floor at the agency
was issued to the troops.
It was believed everywhere at this time that no
further demonstration would be made in the north
and eyes were turned to the military in the south and
the peace commission. But on the 2ist two more
gallant white men were sacrificed on the peace policy
altar. The circumstances of the death of these two
men were as follows:
It must be recollected that General Merritt had
previously started, with nearly all of his force, from
the White River Agency across the White River,
intending to penetrate as far as possible southward
with his wagon train. It was generally understood
that no wagons could make their way south of the
White River, but Merritt was too persistent a soldier
to be dismayed by the maps and reports of those who
had preceded him. He made for the White River
Mountains, below the stream, and failed to find a pass
for his wagon train. Almost at the moment when his
wagon master reported to him the impossibility of
making headway through the mountains, Merritt was
handed by a courier, who had ridden from Rawlins,
the dispatch peremptorily ordering him to halt. Mer
ritt, however, had his own reasons for ascertaining
the state of affairs all around and below his command,
in case he should be ordered to move on or in case
he should be molested. Therefore he dispatched two
companies of cavalry, under Captain Henry W. Wes-
sells, Jr., and First Lieutenant William P. Hall, on
the morning of the 2Oth inst., to effect a reconnois-
sance in force. A number of scouts, headed by Paul
THE UTE WAR. 75
Humme, their chief, accompanied the command, whose
double object was to learn whether the hostile Utes
had made a permanent departure from the neighbor
hood and whether there was any perceptible wagon
road between the White River and the Grand River.
It appears that when the troops got some twenty-
two miles below the White River Agency, Lieutenant
Hall's command was attacked guerilla fashion by a
body of Utes, who annoyed it till nightfall without
stampeding it or doing it any injury, although
the couriers report that two men were wounded.
First Lieutenant William B. Weir, Chief of Ord
nance of the Department of the Platte, who was a
volunteer on the expedition, attached to General
Merritt's staff, had in the meantime left the com
mand, along with the chief scout, Paul Humme, to
hunt deer. Firing was soon after heard by the mem
bers of the main party, but nothing was thought of it
until the long absence of the two men suggested the
advisability of looking for them. After a brief search
Lieutenant Weir's naked body was found where it had
fallen, pierced by two bullets from rifles in Indian
hands. Later on it was learned that he had encount
ered a war party of twenty savages by whom he had
been killed and robbed, and at the same time Chief of
Scouts Humme was killed. The cavalry found
Humme's body on the 23rd and buried it. Both
Weir and Humme were shot through the head, Weir
being shot in the forehead and Humme in the eye.
Weir's head was mutilated and Humme was stripped.
The Indian version of the fight is that a party of
ten Indians had been stationed in the mountains to
watch the movements of the troops on White River,
and that on the 2Oth, about noon, a party of white
men approached them ; that watching the party from
their places of concealment they allowed it to pass,
76 THE UTE WAR.
believing it to be merely a hunting party from the
soldiers' camp ; that two of the party of white men
fell behind and pursued some deer at which one of
them shot, and that thereupon one of the Indians
stepped out to see if the shot had taken effect, where
upon one of the white men, probably Humme, shot
and killed him; that several* of the Indians having
been discovered by the man who had shot one of
them, he continued to fire upon them, whereupon as a
last resort they raised the war-whoop, when the rest
of the party of Indians rushed down from the moun
tains and attacked the party of six white men in a
ravine, where one Indian was killed ; that the party in
the vicinity of the two men pursuing the deer killed
both of them, and then went to the assistance of the
others.
On the 23rd a battalion of five companies of the
Fifth Cavalry, under Major Sumner, went into the
mountains to the divide between the Grand and
White rivers, about eighteen miles south from where
the fight occurred on the 2Oth, to reconnoitre, and
here, with the troops excited over the butchery of
Weir and his scout, and expecting another covert
attack from the Indians at any moment, we leave
Merritt and his command and pass to the considera
tion of other events, crowding fast upon each other.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SOUTH — NEWS OF THE UPRISING AS RECEIVED AT
LOS FINOS — OURAY'S ORDER AND BRADY'S RIDE — IN
TERVIEW AT THIS TIME WITH THE RED PATRIARCH
THE MILITARY IN SOUTHERN COLORADO AFFAIRS IN
SOUTH AND MIDDLE PARKS AND THE GUNNISON COUN
TRY — RUMORS RUNNING RIOT — BRIEF REVIEW OF AF
FAIRS AT THIS PERIOD.
Thus far in this history little has been said regard
ing the movements of the troops in the south or the
condition of affairs at the southern agencies. News
of the uprising at White River reached Los Pinos by
runner the same day that Scout Rankin got into
Rawlins. The day that the outbreak occurred, Chief
Ouray had started on a big hunt, which was to have
lasted three months, but the news carried through to
him by the runner in twenty-four hours caused his
speedy return to the agency. Ouray had always been
a firm friend to the whites, and this horrible massacre
caused him great grief. People everywhere felt
assured that if any effort of his could save the imper
illed lives of those at the seat of war they would be
saved, and his past reputation led all to believe that
should there be danger of an insurrection among the
Uncompahgre Utes, the people would be warned by
him. He called in all the hunting parties which were
out, intending to keep them under his own eye, and
not let them have any connection at all with their
brethren of White River.
Immediately upon the intelligence reaching the
Los Pinos Agency, Major W. M. Stanley, Agent, sent
78 THE UTE WAR.
Joseph Brady to the White River Agency, accom
panied by a body-guard of fifteen Utes sent by Ouray.
Ouray sent a positive command to the hostile Utes
to cease fighting, the order reading as follows :
" To Chiefs, Captains, Headmen and Utes at White
River :
" You are hereby requested and commanded to
cease hostility against the whites, injuring no innocent
persons or any others further than to protect your
own lives and property from unlawful and unauthor
ized combinations of horse thieves and desperadoes,
as anything further will ultimately end in disaster to
all parties.
" [Signed] OURAY,
" Head of Ute Nation. "
Brady, who is a young man and unaccustomed to
any continuous exertion, stood the terrible ride nobly,
not one halt being made between the two agencies.
It required a great deal of courage to start out imme
diately upon hearing the horrible news from White
River, and go there with no other protection than a
band of red men directly allied to the assassins, with
the noble hope of trying to save the lives of the
remaining whites ; and this is exactly what this young
man did. On his return from his mission he spoke
in the highest terms of Sapavanaro's kindness to him
on the journey, and said that nothing would induce
him to believe anything but that this chief was a
warm friend of the whites. " Give the devil his due.''
Following the dispatching of this order came start
ling rumors from the south to the effect that Ignacio,
at the head of one hundred bucks, had left for the
north, and that Chief Ouray was powerless to con
trol his young men. It was reported that three hun
dred Southern Utes were on the war-path, and the
inhabitants of the frontier settlements became greatly
THE UTE WAR. 79
alarmed for the safety of themselves and homes.
The militia of the south was organized, arms were
sent to them and General D. J. Cook, of Denver, was
placed in charge of the State troops below the
Divide. At the same time application was made to
General Pope for regular troops to be sent to the
southern agencies.
Likewise in the west came daily rumors of the
proximity of Indians. At Fairplay, Alma, Breckin-
ridge, Eagle River, Twin Lakes and other points,
citizens and settlers prepared for an attack from the
hostiles, it being generally feared that the White River
tribe, after being repulsed by Merritt's advance, would
scatter and fall down in small bands upon the exposed
and more isolated settlements and camps along the
main range. General Joe C. Wilson was placed in
charge of the State troops in the South Park and
Gunnison countries, and reported within two days that
he could send out nearly any number of men required
for the defense of the people and towns along the
carbonate belt. A large amount of arms and ammu
nition were forwarded to Leadville, where General
Wilson established his headquarters. Chapters could
be written on the different "scares" which sprang up
from this direction.
The most extravagant reports of danger came also
from Middle Park and that section, and campers,
herders, and prospectors " came in " in a hurry. Gen
eral W. H. Harnill was ordered to the command of the
militia in this section, and with arms forwarded from
Denver went from Georgetown to Middle Park and
armed all the people on the frontier and within the
line of possible attack. State companies at George
town, Central and other points, were placed under
arms and a system of scouts and runners established,
8o THE UTE WAR.
which would assure the earliest news of any danger
at remoter points.
It may be as well to state here as anywhere in this
work that only one or two stray Indians were even
seen, and that no loss Of life or property transpired in
the Eagle River, South Park or Middle Park coun
tries during or succeeding the White River uprising.
But while the condition of affairs at the northern
agency and the fate of the women captives were in
doubt and uncertainty, public attention was attracted
to proceedings in the south, where the utterances and
opinions of Head Chief Ouray were eagerly watched
for, and weighed as having the deepest significance.
The well-known friendship for and loyalty to the
government of this old chief gave to many the as
surance that' what he said might be relied upon, and
what he prophesied might safely be anticipated.
Numerous stories came from the southern agency,
or credited in their source to that point, that Ouray
could not control his people and had warned the set
tlers in the south to be on their guard; that many of
Ouray's immediate followers had forsaken him, and
that bands of New Mexico Indians were swarming
into the Uncompahgre country to form conjunction
with the red raiders of the north and declare general
war. As these reports came to the more thickly set
tled sections, and were taken up by the press of the
State, the numbers of Indians engaged or in sympathy
with the revolt increased gradually, until it was cur
rently stated and generally believed that fully two
thousand Indians were on the war-path, with acces
sions gathering from Utah tribes, the Northern
Arapahoes, Bannocks, Shoshones and other nations.
As a large part of the Ute nation was located in the
vicinity of the San Juan country, and as two influen
tial chiefs lived in that section, actual developments
THE UTE WAR. 8 1
from the south were awaited with deep anxiety, espe
cially as it was believed that the rapid hurrying of
troops toward the Los Pinos and Uncompahgre agen
cies would have a tendency to precipitate any threat
ened uprising among the southern bands.
The first really authentic information as to the ac
tual situation of affairs among the Indians of the
south; the sentiment of the head men and the posi
tion of the principal chiefs, reached the capital of the
State in the shape of a letter from the clerk for the
Agent at Los Pinos Agency, received October Qth, in
which he said :
"Chief Ouray was at the agency this morning,
accompanied by a special messenger from Chief
Douglass, of the White River Utes. The messenger
left on the evening of the 2d inst., with instructions to
Ouray to have no fears of any trouble from his tribe;
that the fight now going on is an affair of their own,
am1 do not wish any one to interfere. They propose
to settle it without any assistance from outside parties,
and in any event will not trouble him or his people.
That the three women and three children, one a babe,
are safe at his house, shall be well cared for and
released as soon as the fight is over. The money and
papers belonging to the agency have been turned over
to the Agent's wife. A messenger sent out by Ouray,
who arrived at the same time, reports that the troops
are strongly intrenched and still fighting; that with
the supply of provisions on hand he has no fears of
their ability to hold out until reinforcements arrive.
" I am requested by Chief Ouray to state to the
people of Ouray and vicinity that they need have no
fears whatever from the Indians of the Los Pinos
Agency; that none of his people took any part in the
affair at White River, and that they are desirous that
the peaceful relations which now exist shall forever be
6
82 THE UTE WAR.
maintained; that in case any danger threatens us he
will immediately notify the agency and the people of
Ouray; that he deplores the trouble existing at White
River, and is extremely anxious that no further fight
ing or bloodshed shall take place, and will use his
utmost endeavors to bring about a speedy settlement
of the present difficulties. Any information he may
receive will be immediately communicated to the
agency and promptly forwarded to Ouray City.
"Ouray's word is 'legal tender' in this valley, and
I trust it will have its effect and quiet, in a measure,
the excitement which now exists.
"Yours, respectfully,
•' GEORGE P. SHERMAN."
General Edward Hatch, commanding the depart
ment of New Mexico, was ordered to assume charge
of the forces in Southern Colorado, which promptly,
on application to General Pope, of Fort Leavenworth,
were rapidly concentrated at and below Alamosa.
General Hatch remained in command of the Southern
Colorado troops until the appointment of the Investi
gation Commission spoken of in the succeeding
chapter, when he withdrew, and General McKenzie, of
San Antonio, Texas, was appointed in charge. Troops
were located before the outbreak at Forts Garland and
Lewis, where permanent posts were established.
These were at once ordered to prepare for march and
to await commands from headquarters. Troops were
ordered from San Antonio and Fort Clark, Texas,
Fort Hayes. Kansas, and Fort Union, New Mexico, to
Southern Colorado and Northern New Mexico, to pro
tect the settlements and advance the war in Colorado,
and at the same time to frustrate the hostile demonstra
tions of the Indians in New Mexico. By these move
ments quite an army of regular troops were formed
for march to the frontier in the south, their plan of
THE UTE WAR. 83
operations being to protect settlements, check uprising
and co-operate with Merritt in the north.
When this sub-department or column was placed in
charge of General McKenzie after the recall of Gen
eral Hatch, at which time its maximum strength was
reached, the force numbered one thousand men and
was officered as follows: General McKenzie com
manding; John F. Guilfoyle, Ninth Cavalry, Assistant
Adjutant General; Second Lieutenant Charles W.
Taylor, aid.
Battalion of four companies of the Twenty-second
Infantry, Major A. L. Hough, commanding.
Company H, Fifteenth Infantry, Captain J. W.
Bean.
Detachments of Companies I and B, Fifteenth In
fantry, First Lieutenant George A. Cormick.
Battalion of mounted troops, Captain James H.
Bradford.
Company G, Nineteenth Infantry, Captain James
H. Bradford.
Company K, Ninth Cavalry, Captain Charles Parker.
Surgeons, Dr. J. H. Collins and Dr.xF. H. Atkins.
The positions assumed by the troops were arranged
so as far as possible to cover as wide a scope of
country, and, at the same time, have the column as
compact as such a plan made practicable; the main
body, or rather the largest body of troops, proceeding
to a point in the vicinity of the Indian villages near
Animas City, from which point by trail and road it is
but eighty miles to Ouray. The troops from here
could strike the Dolores trails readily, and were in a
position to cover the settlements and strike quickly
and hard, should the Indians make a break.
In this condition affairs in the south, like those in
the north, remained passive for some time. Merritt
at White River guarded that frontier ; the State mili-
84 THE UTE WAR.
tia, armed and equipped, protected settlements ; Gen
eral McKenzie and his forces swarmed along the
frontier in the south. It was well known at this time
that the Indians engaged in the White River massacre
were on Grand River, and in probable possession of
the white women. The hostiles were hemmed in on
three sides and had but two alternatives : to surrender
or take flight along the valley of the Grand to Utah,
and seek refuge in the wilderness in the southern part
of that territory or the protection of their relatives,
the Uintas.
CHAPTER IX.
AN ENVOY TO THE HOSTILE CAMP GENERAL ADAMS AND
AN INDIAN ESCORT GOING TO THE RESCUE OF THE
WHITE CAPTIVES THE TRIP TO GRAND RIVER JOSIE
MEEKER MAKES HER ESCAPE THE DEMAND AND THE
COUNCIL — WHAT THE UTE CHIEFS SAID — SURRENDER
OF THE HOSTAGES A JOYFUL REUNION ADAMS
PROCEEDS TO WHITE RIVER HIS NARROW ESCAPE
RETURN TO LOS PINOS.
On the evening of October 14, General Charles
Adams, Special Agent for the United States Postoffice
Department, received, at Denver, telegraphic notifica
tion that at the request of Secretary Schurz he had
been detailed for special work as representative of the
Interior Department among the Indians. A second
dispatch from Washington gave General Adams spe
cific instructions as to his mission and how to proceed.
His principal, overshadowing duty was the rescue of
the captive white women. The appointment was re
garded with great favor. General Adams was Agent
for the White River Utes in 1870-1, and was the first
Civil Agent of the Los Pinos tribe, acting in that
capacity during the years 1872-3-4. His intimate
knowledge of the Indian character, his bravery, energy
and sagacity, it was felt, would be equal to any de
mands his errand might make upon them.
The General said very little as to his plans, and the
people at large were ignorant of his intentions or
movements until he commenced to act, when the his
tory of his course became public. This much was
understood, however: that he was to proceed directly
86 THE UTE WAR.
to the hostile camp and demand the immediate sur
render of the women, if in camp, and that the hostiles
lay down their arms. If these demands were not
acceded to, General Adams was to at once withdraw
and notify the Department and the military. The
tenor of Secretary Schurz's pronunciamento left no
doubt as to the contingent proceeding on the part of
the government; the Indians then had to be brought
to justice and by the military. The troops would
take care of the hostiles, while General Adams would
endeavor to keep at peace those Indians who were not
engaged in the Meeker-Thornburgh butchery. In
the event of the acquiescence of the Indians in Gen
eral Adams' demands, it was not understood that they
were to be accorded leniency. The General was to
hold out no promises except the general one that their
good conduct would be reported at Washington, and
prompt compliance with the demands would be taken
into consideration by the government.
General Adams left Denver October i$th for Los
Pinos.
Two days after he was followed by W. J. Pollock,
United States Indian Inspector, who was to officially
investigate affairs at the southern agencies. Major
Pollock was accompanied by Ralph Meeker, a son of
Agent Meeker, who, armed with special authority from
the Interior Department, hoped to assist in the recovery
of his mother and sisters. Messrs. Pollock and
Meeker expected to join General Adams, but were
prevented from so doing and proceeded to Los Pinos,
where they remained.
General Adams arrived at Chief Ouray's camp on
the night of the i8th, where he had a long conference
with the head of the Ute Nation, and with his aid
and advice perfected his plans for the trip to the Grand
River one hundred miles north, where the captives
THE UTE WAR. 8/
were then known to be. The following day General
Adams arrived at Los Pinos and began active prepa
rations for his perilous and important journey. Ouray
accompanied the General to the agency and assisted
him in arranging for his departure.
On the morning of the iQth General Adams started
north for the Grand River country. His escort con
sisted of three chiefs and ten Indians. The chiefs
were named Sapavanaro, Shavano, and Young Colo-
row. He was accompanied by Count von Doenhoff,
Secretary of the German Legation at Washington, an
intimate friend of Secretary Schurz, by a special cor
respondent of the Denver Tribune, and Captain Cline,
an old scout and frontiersman. There were also two
white men along to drive wagons and take care of the
camping outfit.
A provision wagon and buck board were taken
along, in order that the ladies might be spared the
fatigue of a long return journey on horseback. With
great thoughtfulness, Ouray had sent along his own
tent for the use of the ladies.
The route taken was the wagon road, built by John
son's army in 1859, to Utah, which was followed for
forty miles beyond the Gunnison River, where the
wagons were left, and the remainder of the journey
performed on horseback.
The party secured an early start and traveled
forty miles, to the crossing of the Gunnison River,
on an old Mormon trail, the first day. Here two run
ners were sent ahead by Sapavanaro to inform Chief
Douglass of their approach, in order that he might
collect his head men and consult with them before
the arrival of the envoy. The next day they reached
Whitewater Creek, thirty miles further, arriving there
about two o'clock. A halt was made until sundown
when the ride was resumed, and they got to
00 THE UTE WAR.
Grand River that night. At noon that day two
Indians met them. .They were Cojoe and Henry Jim.
They were from the hostile camp, and told the party
where the camp was, and that the women were all
safe. The Indians also told where the women were
kept and in whose tents they were. The next morn
ing, the 2 ist, the General and his escort left Grand
River and struck the hostile camp about ten o'clock.
It was twenty miles distant from the river. Shortly
before they reached there one of the two Indians
sent ahead returned and said that, after a whole night's
council, the Indians had concluded to let them come
in. Douglass and some of his men, they said, would
meet them. When they got to the camp General
Adams discovered that the women were in a small
camp on Plateau Creek. The main camp was at the
mouth of Roon Creek, on the Grand River. Adams
went to the small camp, composed of about fifteen
lodges, and proceeded to the further end. There were
three tents, and in each tent a prisoner.
"Ugh! Ute house; pretty soon see white squaws,"
said Sapavanaro.
So at last they had arrived at their goal in just six
calendar days from the time General Adams left
Denver.
The General, who was in advance, rode first toward
the farthest group of tepees, and stopping at one, in
the doorway of which stood a squaw, asked if the
white squaws were in there.
" Katch," (no), was the reply, and General Adams
started for the other tent, when, " Hold on, General,"
exclaimed Captain Cline, excitedly, "I see one of
them."
"Good," said the General, "keep an eye on her,"
and rode off to the other tent. This was entirely
empty, and he rode back to the first.
THE UTE WAR. 89
The lady whom Captain Cline had seen, in spite of
the efforts of the squaw to conceal her by standing in
the door, then came out, exclaiming:
"Oh, have you come for us? I am so glad."
She then said she was Miss Josephine Meeker;
that this was the camp of Chief Johnson ; that her
mother, and Mrs. Price and little boy, were in the
other tepee, Josie having the little girl with her. After
a few moments conversation, General Adams told her
that he would return in a short time, and rode off to
the other tents. One of these was empty, and the
other entirely closed, save a small opening in the
door-way. Before this the party dismounted, and
then began an excited colloquy between Sapavanaro
and the occupants of the tent, he seeming to speak
angrily and indignantly, and the other speakers, who
afterward proved to be Captain Billy and Waro, both
Uncompahgre Utes, answering in a sulky way.
Presently Sapavanaro turned to General Adams
and told him in Spanish that, seeing them coming,
the women had been hid, and that only the unlooked-
for move of his in riding to the fartherest tent first
had prevented them from hiding Miss Meeker.
They had sent for Douglass, whose camp was about
sixteen miles distant, and nothing could be done until
his arrival. Upon this information, saddles were un-
cinched and horses were picketed for a stop. While
waiting the party had a fine opportunity to observe
the camp and its surroundings.
The plain upon which the tents were pitched was as
fine pasture land as Colorado contains, and extended
in three directions as far as the eye could reach,
mountains rising on the other side, and a small creek
flowing within fifty yards of the tents. Upon a small
stand set up between the tents hung a non-commis
sioned officer's sash and a cavalry sabre, topped by a
QO THE UTE WAR.
uniform coat ; several army saddles were piled in front
of the tents; mules and horses with the United States
brand on them were grazing on the mesa, while gov
ernment blankets, bags of flour, etc., were scattered
all around.
The escort, the Uncompahgre Utes, save only
Sapavanaro and Shavano, who stood aloof, mingled
freely with their white brethren, and were soon laugh
ing and talking loudly.
After perhaps an hour's waiting, a short, ungraceful
Ute rode up, followed by two others. Though com
monly dressed, yet a brightness of face about him
and the hushed talk of the Indians around prepared
the party to be told that that was Douglass.
Dismounting from his horse he spoke to General
Adams, shook hands with him and the rest of the
party, and then turned away and became absorbed in
a consultation with Shavano and his two head men.
This lasted a short time, when Douglass went up
to General Adams, who, seated on the ground, had
been quietly waiting for him to open the negotiations,
and kneeling on the ground, drew a map of White
River and the surrounding country with his finger.
He then explained that the troops were continually
advancing and his men retreating before them ; that
neither he nor his men wished to fight, and concluded
by requesting the General to go to White River and
tell the soldiers to stop their advance.
To this General Adams replied that he had been
sent by the government to tell him that it wished for
no war; but that the "white squaws must be returned
to their friends."
"I give you white squaws, you go to White River?"
asked Douglass.
"Yes."
"White squaws stay here till you come back?"
THE UTE WAR. 9!
"No," replied General Adams, "white squaws start
to-morrow home. I go to-day to White River."
Douglass thought a moment, then, rising, said to
the General :
"You come in," and went into the tepee, which had
during the conversation become filled with Utes.
General Adams followed, and seating himself, there
began a council which lasted for five hours.
General Adams furnishes the following account of
the proceedings council tepee:
"There were about fifty chiefs in the tent. I was
supported, as you might say, by Chiefs Sapavanaro
and Shavano, who were under my charge at the
southern agency, and there was also present Sawawic,
a chief whom in 1870 I nursed for three months in
my own house at the southern agency. I formally
made my errand known, and then one chief after
another spoke, nearly all of them refusing their con
sent to the surrender. The pipe was passed around,
but I refused to smoke with them, and so did Sapa
vanaro until they had consented to a release. Finally
Shavano became angry and discouraged and arising
from the council told me it was useless to parley fur
ther, and left the tent. At this Sapavanaro stepped
into the circle and made a most powerful and deter
mined speech, more of a threat, than an appeal. Dur
ing his great talk there was considerable excitement
and pow-wow in the council, but I learned later that
the chief said that he bore the mandate of Ouray.
The Indians must surrender the captive women to
General Adams or they would not be recognized by
Ouray. They would be shut off from communication
with their head chief; not allowed to come to his
camp, and Ouray would join with the white soldiers
and force the surrender or drive the rebellious Utes
from the country.
92 THE UTE WAR.
" This speech had a deep effect, and an old Uintah
chief who was in the council held private conversation
with Chief Douglass, evidently urging him to obey
Ouray as the politic course. Douglass then arose,
and after endeavoring to get me to go with the troops
first and then return for the prisoners, but being again
refused, he finally yielded an ungraceful assent.
Then one after another of the opposing chiefs followed
suit and the agreement became nearly unanimous.
" I saw Cojoe, an Uncompahgre, in the council.
He wore Lieutenant Cherry's dress coat and his watch
and chain. I think this chief had three or four men
in the camp. There were probably ten or twelve
Uintahs in the camp. Of these latter there had
undoubtedly been many more at first, but they fled to
the west when the message from Ouray was received."
At the close of the council the long pipe was passed
around, and General Adams came out, saying to his
company that the ladies had been sent for and would
be here in a few moments.
Presently there came toward the white men an old
lady leaning on a stick, whom they knew at once to
be Mrs. Meeker. Mrs. Price followed her, her little
boy being carried behind in a blanket, Indian fashion.
They shook hands cordially with Adams and the
others.
" We are so thankful you have come," they said.
«' Yesterday a runner came in, and a little while after
we were told that Washington would be here to-mor
row ; but the Indians had so frequently told us things
of that kind to torment us that we hardly believed.
But now we can't help believing it. When are you
going to take us away ? "
" Very soon," said General Adams. " I have ar
ranged everything so you can start to-morrow."
" We are so glad," said Mrs. Price. " When the
THE UTE WAR. 93
Indians came to our tent and made us go into that
brush we didn't know what was going to happen to
us ; but we had become so hopeless that we didn't
care much."
In a few moments General Adams rode off with
Douglass, Sapavanaro, and Shavano. He was to go
to the camp of Douglass that night, and in the morn
ing start for White River. Count von Dcenhoff
accompanied him. Before he left, Douglass ordered
Miss Meeker and the little girl to be brought over to
where the rest were ; and when they came there was
a joyful reunion on the part of the ladies.
One of the tepees was prepared for their sleeping
accommodation, and they early retired to rest to pre
pare for the necessarily early start next morning.
After the women had been given up, and in com
pany with the twelve southern Utes who had accom
panied the envoy to Grand River, had started south,
General Adams took a guard of twenty-five White
River Utes and, in company with Chiefs Sapavanaro,
Shavano and Sawawic, started for Merritt's command,
to stop their march south. When about twenty miles
below the agency the party were discovered by Mer
ritt's scouts, who reported, as was afterwards learned,
that a band of Indians were approaching. Before
Adams was aware of his proximity to the soldiers the
party were surrounded, and, as he believes, escaped
fire by a moment by their discovery of Adam's flag of
truce, which he at once raised. The Indians were
positive he had been treacherous, and showed every
manifestation of anger and bitter resentment. But
the faithful Sawawic exhibited his confidence in the
General, and re-assured the others by dismounting
and proceeding forward alone. Adams sent word to
the soldiers and the bugle call was sounded. The
Indians had clambered up the mountain side and were
94 THE UTE WAR.
waiting developments, and the General turned back
for them. Just as he had prevailed upon Shavano to
come to his side, a squad of soldiers, who had not
heard the bugle sound, rode up, when Shavano with a
yell again bounded away, and it was some time before
Adams could get his escort together again. The
party proceeded to the agency, and General Adams
told General Merritt what he had accomplished and
promised. Merritt at once withdrew his advance, and
Adams and escort returned to the Grand River camp,
the escort reporting what Adams had done, which was
satisfactory evidence that he had fulfilled his agree
ment.
General Adams proceeded next day towards Los
Pinos, and arrived at that agency October 29th.
CHAPTER X.
GOING BACK — CAPTURE AND DISPOSAL OF THE WOMEN
AND CHILDREN — DOUGLASS TAKES THE AGENT'S WIFE
AND DISPUTES WITH PERSUNE OVER HIS DAUGHTER-
FIRST FEELINGS — LIGHTS AND SHADOWS — MRS. MEEK
ER RELATES HER STORY SETTING OUT FOR THE
SQUAWS' CAMP.
During this time we have left the women, Mrs.
Meeker, Miss Josephine and Mrs. Price, and Mrs.
Price's babies, in the hands of the hostiles. Twenty-
three days have elapsed since they were made captives,
and they have passed through an experience which
seems in every way incredible. That they should
have borne up under the trying ordeal of this time is
the wonder of the day. The experience at the
agency, the imprisonment, the massacre, the treat
ment they received at the hands of the savages, the
dread and anxious state of mind which must
have been continual with them from beginning to
end, were sufficient, it would seem, to break down the
strongest organizations. During all this time thous
ands, millions, of anxious eyes have been turned
towards the western border of Colorado, peering into
the wilderness and the mountains, to discover some
trace of the captives. An occasional glance which
was only sufficiently plain to strengthen hope and
create doubt was afforded, thus heightening rather
than lessening the suspense of the nation and in
creasing the sympathy and anxiety felt for the poor
wanderers in a strange land among a wild and sav
age race. Once in a while there came state
ments from the Indian runners, who were constantly
96 THE UTE WAR.
plying between the camp of Chief Ouray and that of
the hostiles, saying that they were safe in the hands
of the White River Utes at a spot some hundred
miles north of the Uncompahgre, or Los f.Pinos,
Agency. But the statements of the Indians were not
considered strictly reliable, for, while it was thought
they were held as captives, it was doubted whether
they had been treated with any respect or indeed
whether their lives would be spared.
The story as told by the rescued captives is a
pathetic and an absorbingly interesting one. It is a
strange and peculiar story — a new picture of Indian
life and of the Indian land, full of light as well as of
shadow, abounding in bright and sunny spots, we are
pleased to say, as well as in dark and gloomy corners
— in streaks of sunlight as well as in thunder storms.
It is a revelation, a new account of the life and man
ners of the aboriginal American, the noble red man
of the Rocky Mountains. The stories of the captives
' as told to General Adams, and as afterwards related a
hundred times over by the captives to their friends
and the press, give glimpses of Indian life more
curious and instructive than anything which has ap
peared in the press or in literature for the last thirty
years. A great deal of picturesque Indian life is
painted in Cooper's novels, but that is either fiction or
facts so embellished and heightened as to be undis-
tinguishable from the veriest romance. In the reports
we have had of the incessant Indian wars in recent
years, the barbarities of the native tribes have made a
great figure, but there have been few relieving
features, and little light has been shed on the kind of
life which the Indians lead among themselves. These
are narratives of thrilling interest which lift the
curtain and disclose phases of savage humanity as it
exists in the far-off western wilds, and enlarge our
THE UTE WAR. 97
'knowledge of Indian character as it exists at present.
Public attention has been chiefly fixed on the massa
cre and the rescue, but since the women and children
who were carried off are out of danger, a singular
interest attaches to what happened to them while they
were in the power of the savages and to the knowl
edge they gained while in that hapless condition.
The minute and interesting recitals of Miss Meeker,
Mrs. Meeker and Mrs. Price, form the most valu
able contribution, to our knowledge, of the interior
life of the Indians which has been made in this
generation. It is better than anything in the Leather
Stocking series because it is authentic, and does not
fall below anything in those celebrated fictions in
pictorial interest or curious illustration of Indian
traits. During their captivity of twenty-three days
these ladies had opportunities to observe the charac
ter and the strange antics of their captors such as
have not before occurred in our time, and, it is to be
hoped, will never occur again to persons of their sex.
To begin with the beginning, we must retrace our
footsteps, and ask the reader to return with us to
White River. We will not stop to listen to the moan
ing of the winds, the lowing of the agency cattle as
the sun descends on that sorrowful day, or to moralize
over the ashes of the agency buildings or the dead
bodies of good " Father" Meeker and his faithful fol
lowers. For the present we leave these things to
those who have not the living to care for. We leave
the dead to bury the dead, while we pursue the cap
tives on their wild course into the mountains.
Having massacred the men at the agency and
burned all the buildings but one, the savages set
themselves to work to secure the plunder and carry it
away. As we have already seen they had removed
their women to a place south of the agency, that they
7
98 THE UTE WAR.
might be out of danger in case the soldiers should
push through and attack them. To the squaws' camp
later in the day they repaired.
When the women rushed out of the burning build
ing, driven from their hiding place like foxes from
their dens by the sportsman, and made the one
despairing dash across the open field, hoping to cover
themselves in the chapparal and the sage brush, and
thus hide until they could be protected by the dark
ness of the approaching night — they discovered the
Indians at a distance busily engaged in packing mules
and horses with agency supplies. They were so oc
cupied piling on the blankets and guns and stowing
away the meat and flour that they did not see Dresser
and the women and children until they had almost
reached their goal. A wild yell, which came simul
taneously from a score of throats, a mad rush and
the discharge of firearms followed. Mrs. Meeker fell
when struck by a ball, while Dresser, for whom the
shot was most likely intended, bounded on and was
lost in the dense growth.
The women could do nothing but place themselves
at the mercy of the savages, who promised protection
and security. However little confidence they may
have had in this guarantee, no alternative but to ac
cept and go along with them was left them. Their
friends were all dead. They were helpless and in the
hands of the slayers. Mrs. Meeker had scarcely
fallen to the ground when a big buck, holding a gun
in his hand, stood over her, his face illumined by a
ghastly savage grin. " Me no hurt white squaw," he
said; "Ute no hurt squaw, good squaw. Come to
Douglass." Mrs. Meeker followed, limping after the
red scoundrel, who had taken what money she had —
some $30 — and went to the camp of Douglass with
him. She was then delivered over to the considerate
THE UTE WAR. 99
care of that " good " chief, who rewarded her captor
by giving him two silver dollar pieces which he had
taken from the old lady. Mrs. Meeker has related in
her own language what next transpired, and as in that
is included a pathetic incident, which is all the more
affecting as related by her, we repeat her words :
MRS. N. C. MEEKER.
" I told Douglass that I must have some blankets.
He sent an Indian named Thompson to the burning
building with me, and I got a hood, a shawl and one
blanket. I handed around bedding, etc., among the
Indians, rather than have them destroyed. The In
dians took them, and I afterward saw them in camp
when I was suffering for the want of blankets to keep
me warm. I went back to Douglass and said that I
wanted my medicine and my 'spirit book.' I had
doctored Douglass and his family. He said, 'Go';
so I went back a second time and got a large copy of
'Pilgrim's Progress' and a box of medicines. The
box was so heavy that an Indian refused to carry it.
It was lost, but he took the book. When I got back
IOO THE UTE WAR.
to Douglass and told that chief the Indian had said
that the medicine chest was too heavy to carry, Doug
lass looked disappointed and sorrowful, and asked —
"'Couldn't you have split the box a little, so you
could have brought part of it?'
" In going back this last time I saw the body of my
husband stretched out on the ground in front of the
warehouse; all the clothing was gone but the shirt.
The body was not mutilated. The arms were ex
tended at the sides of the head. The face looked as
peaceful and natural as in life, but blood was running
from the mouth. I stooped to kiss him, but just as
my lips were near his I saw an Indian standing stone
still, looking at me, so I turned and walked away.
Douglass afterward said that my husband was shot
through the side of the head."
Mrs. Price surrendered to an Uncompahgre Ute,
Cojoe by name, and Miss Josephine was made the
captive of a subordinate chief or head man called
Persune, whose name has become known to the out
side world because- of his gallant bearing toward the
Agent's daughter — " The pale white squaw who grieve
much." When taken Miss Josephine was in charge
of Mrs. Price's little girl May, while Mrs. Price still
retained possession of Johnnie.
An incident worthy of note, to which doubtless the
captives owe much of their fair treatment during the
three weeks that succeeded this dreadful day, occurred
a few minutes after the women and children had fallen
into the hands of the barbarians. When Miss Jose
phine first went to the agency she was an object of
much curious interest and of attention on the part of
the Indians. Young, rosy-cheeked, bright, cheerful
and vivacious, she charmed the savage eye and won
the red man's heart. During her stay of over twelve
months in their midst she was loved and wooed by
TftE UTE WAR. IOI
fully a dozen braves, many of whom occupied first
rank as chiefs. They made all kinds of offers to her,
those that were married agreeing to put away their
other wives, and those that were not swearing that
their love and admiration for the white maiden should
never be dimmed or diminished by affection for any
other woman, wild and untutored or gentle and edu
cated. One moccasined lover had hardly been sent
away until another succeeded in his plea at the shrine
of love. Douglass had himself become a victim to
Miss Meeker's superior charms, and hesitated not to
speak his admiration to the daughter of the Agent.
Persune, a younger and handsomer, and withal a bet
ter Indian, had also avowed his passion and his desire
to possess "the white lily."
As was naturally to be expected there was a gen
eral anxiety to hold this treasure, now in the hands of
the tribe. Persune had been alive to the situation,
and while the other Indians were engaged in securing
the agency goods, he was pursuing the fleeing charm,
which he captured. He did not prove in all respects
a gentle lover, and when in conducting his captive
back to the Indian headquarters, he came to an irri
gating canal, which had been constructed by the
Agent for the purpose of watering the valley, over
which there was no means of crossing, he rudely
dragged her through the water, which was quite deep,
wetting her to the skin, so that when our heroine
came up on the opposite bank, she was not in ball
room plight. Little May suffered the same indignity
offered her protector, and also came out of the pool
looking more like a clothes-line appendage than a
piece of mortality.
Persune had scarcely more than emerged from this
watery pathway than he came upon the great chief
whom the whites call Douglass, but whose Indian
IO2 THE UTE WAR.
cognomen is Quinkent, who no sooner discovered
that Persune had made a captive of Miss Josephine,,
upon whom he had turned his own eye, than he en^
tered an objection. It was plain to be seen that he
had been drinking, for he swaggered and swore:
Miss Josephine, who had seen only the better side of
Douglass's character, was disposed to request him to*
take her, as she thought he would protect her. But
second counsel with herself prevailed, and she decided
to let the savages settle the matter among themselves,
especially as she had little hope of influencing the re
sult. She therefore held her tongue while the braves
quarreled over the possession of her. They came
near to blows, and the young lady thought at one
time that the day which had been so eventful and
which had seen the spilling of so much of the blood!
of the white man, might yet see the letting of some
of the extra supply of an Indian, or perhaps two.
Little May clung close about her protector while the
Indians disputed over the possession, seeming to
assert that, let whomsoever might take her away, they
two would not be parted.
Persune was not, however, in the least daunted by
Douglass's braggadocio. He told him that the captive
was his, and that he meant to retain possession of her,
and after parleying for a while with the chief, and
exchanging a few uncomplimentary epithets, alluding,
among other things, to Douglass's connection with
the Mountain Meadow massacre, he pushed the White
River chief to one side and passed on with his cap
tives, leaving Douglass to his own cogitations and
chagrin.
The Indians told the women that they must now
get ready for a long march, for they had a great way to »
go that night, to the squaws' camp, far away toward the
Uncompahgre country. But this warning was almost
THE UTE WAR. 1 03
unnecessary, as there were no preparations for them
to make. Their clothing, except what they wore,
had been burned with the other agency effects. The
day had been warm, and as the ladies considered
themselves out of the sight of all but "home folks,"
they had dressed themselves as scantily as they could
for protection against the heat. They wore only their
calico dresses,. and neither shoes nor stockings. Thus
they rendered themselves comfortable during the
warmth of the day; but towards evening, in the
mountains, when the sun begins to disappear, the air
grows chill, and wraps and fires become comfortable.
Darkness had come upon them while in this unprotect
ed state, and the prospect of having to ride horseback
during a long and cold night opened before them.
They shuddered at the thought, and because of the
cold. It was a case of mingled prospect and reality.
The present was an indication of what the future,
might be.
The Indians had finished their plundering and
packing and were now ready to leave the agency
and the agency ashes. The women were told
to mount. Mrs. Meeker was set upon the bare
back of a horse, behind Chief Douglass. Miss
Josie was placed on a pony, and little May was lashed
on behind her. She was provided with a saddle, but
with no bridle, the Indians depending upon driving
her horse as they desired it to go, rather than upon
her guiding it. The Uncompahgre Ute who had
captured Mrs. Price spread a blanket over the saddle
of a pony and told her to mount. She crawled upon
the animal's back, her baby boy was handed to her,
and the Indian threw himself on behind. There were
about twenty Indians in the party, all mounted, and
with quite a number of annuity goods strapped on
pack-mules. The Indians had attired themselves
1O4 THE UTE WAR-
quite picturesquely before beginning the massacre,
having assumed their feathers and their war-paint.
These decorations they still retained.
The cavalcade started directly southward, taking
the Indian trail to Grand River, which led gradually
into the mountains. ' The sight was a peculiar one —
as wild as weird and as weird as can well be imagined.
The Indians and the women appeared in costumes which
on the streets of any city would attract the gaze of
all who might catch a glimpse of them. It would
have made a fine picture, and the artist present would
have lacked nothing to complete the view. Moun
tains, valleys, trees, streams, figures, Indian hilarity,
female sorrow, the dark back-grounds of the agency
and its recent scenes — all lighted by a full moon,,
which had just risen over the mountains to the east,,
and fitly and graphically described by Bret Harte's-
pretty little word painting —
Above the pines the moon was slowly drifting ;
The river sang below;
The dim sierras far beyond uplifting
Their minarets of snow.
These were terrible times for the poor women.
What thoughts must have crowded their brains ! what
phantoms taken shape! what pictures must have
formed on the camera of the imagination ! A day of
terror such as mortal seldom experiences succeeded
by a night among wild and drunken men, in fastnesses
in the heart of the Rocky Mountains unexplored by
men of their own race and color. Having, as we may
say, witnessed the massacre of husbands, fathers and
friends ; having been cooped up all day in a hole, for
self-protection ; having seen the buildings which had
afforded them shelter crumble to the ground as the
savage flames mounted to the skies ; having almost
been dragged over the dead bodies of their dead
THE UTE WA&. 105
friends by their murderers, they were now, alone and
without protection, trusting only to Providence for
relief, in the hands of these barbarians, and were
doomed to spend — not only a night, but perhaps an
eternity with them.
We draw the curtain over the scene.
CHAPTER XL
ON THE TRAIL — SOUTHWARD BOUND — THROUGH VAL
LEYS AND OVER HILLS — A DARK AND WINDING WAY
ROMANTIC SCENES — THE FIRST CAMP — INSULTING AND
THREATENING THE CAPTIVE WOMEN MISS JOSEPHINE'S
INTERVIEW WITH DOUGLASS SHE DEFIES THE FIEND
MRS. MEEKER INSULTED AND TAUNTED, AND ALMOST
TORTURED MRS. PRICE AND HER BABIES INDIAN
COUNCILS AND WAR DANCES — ON THE GRAND.
The trail was a well defined pathway, giving evi
dence of having been traveled for many a day by man
and beast.' It was tortuous and narrow, winding
about on the hillsides and descending into the hol
lows, sometimes ascending an abrupt point and at
others leading through a deep canon with the moun
tains looming up, it seemed, well nigh to the skies,
and cutting out all but the faintest shadows. But
for the continual jabber of the Indians, the down-cast
and sad-hearted women might have easily imagined a
hundred armed warriors concealed behind as many
pillars of stone and pine trees, ready to march stealth
ily forward and take possession of and murder them.
The Indians seemed in excellent spirits, and, whether
they marched up hill or down, laughed and talked
continually, generally among themselves, but some
times addressed their conversation to their captives.
Their naturally wild and uncouth characters were
brought out in bolder relief by the use of whisky
with which they seemed to be abundantly supplied,
and which they used without stint. Each one carried
a well filled bottle, which found its way to his mouth
THE UTE WAR. IO/
at short intervals. They had robbed the medicine
stores at the agency of all the liquor to be obtained
there, and were also evidently well supplied before they
had begun their plundering. They drank and laughed
continually. In fact, to use a common expression,
they were gloriously drunk. But, as may well be
imagined, their hilarity was in sad contrast to the feel
ings of the despairing women and frightened children.
Relating her experience Mrs. Meeker says :
" Douglass's breath smelt strongly of whisky. He
said :
" ' Your father dead ; I had a father once ; he too is
dead. Agent no understand about the fight Indians
make. '
" The other Indians all took out bottles of whisky,
which they held up between their eyes and the moon
as they drank so as to see how much was left.
Douglass as he rode along sang what seemed to be
an obscene song to a pretty melody in slow measure.
When he had finished he asked how I liked it. My
limb ached so terribly that I could scarcely sit on the
horse. Douglass held it a while; then he strapped it
in a kind of a sling to his saddle.
" I asked if I should see my daughter, Josephine.
Douglass replied, ' Yes. ' *
" As we rode a villainous looking Indian trotted
alongside and slapped me on the shoulder and asked
how I would like to be his squaw, and he made inde
cent proposals. Chief Douglass listened and laughed.
He said the Indian was an Arapahoe, and I would kill
Utes if I married an Arapahoe. "
Mrs. Price relates that she was treated quite civilly
by the Uncompahgre Indian who had made her a
captive and who rode behind her. He pulled a watch
out of his pocket and asked her if she recognized it.
It proved to be a gold time-piece taken from Mr.
IO8 THE UTE WAK,
Post, the agency clerk, and a valued family relic.
The Indian, who evidently did not appreciate the
value of the property, put the guard over Mrs. Price's
head and strung it around her neck, saying it was her
watch. She states that the road at times ascended
such steep hills that she was almost unable to hold
on, while Mrs. Meeker, who rode behind Douglass,
was compelled to cling to him with all her strength
to avoid falling off behind.
Persune early began to display towards Miss Jose
phine the gallantry which characterized him in all his
dealings towards her. He rode alongside of her,
driving his two pack-mules in front, and was not in
the least rude or presuming. When she complained
of thirst, he went to the river and brought her a drink
in his hat. To illustrate the different degrees of po
liteness among savages, it may be related that Mrs.
Price had also asked her Indian for some water, being
also very thirsty. He gave it to her also out of his
hat, but before handing it to her, drank himself. This
Persune did not do.
The Indians traveled at a rapid trot for three or four
hours and at last left the trail, and soon entered a
small ravine, where they camped for perhaps half an
hour, the prisoners being separated. Here the pris
oners were told to dismount, and obeying instructions,
they were carefully searched by the Indians, even to
their shoes and stockings. They found on Mrs.
Meeker's person a pocket-book, which was full of
needles and a handkerchief. Thjs last piece of prop
erty was taken by the ten-year-old son of Douglass,
whose full name is Frederick Douglass. He is a boy
ten years old, who had received special care at the
hands of the women at the agency. He had been
taught to read and to speak English to a degree.
His instructors were much encouraged at his progress,
THE UTE WAR. 1 OO,
and thought, until they saw him in his real character,
unrestrained by conventionalities, that he was a bright
and shining contradiction of the prevailing opinion
that the Indian could not be civilized. Now, how
ever, that there were no restraints about him, and that
his savage nature was at liberty to assert itself, it did
not fail him. Like Mark Tapley, he came out strong.
He not only stole Mrs. Meeker's handkerchief, but he
abused her to the greatest extent possible with the
words which had been taught him at the agency. He
also taunted and jeered and poked fun at Miss Jose
phine and Mrs. Price, and teased and tormented the
babies until they cried.
In doing these things the young Douglass only
followed the example set by his illustrious sire and
others of the tribe. Of all the Indians the house of
Douglass seems to have proved on this occasion the
most conspicuous. Miss Josephine had scarcely dis
mounted from her horse when this villain approached
her in an indecent and threatening manner. She had
lain down upon some blankets to take needed rest
while stopping.
Chief Douglass addressed her as "white squaw,"
laughed at her, and then made her a speech, upbraid
ing her father, reciting his wrongs, and ending with a
threat to kill her. He was greatly excited and used
many gestures while speaking, representing what had
been done — what he thought and felt — quite as much
by actions as by words. He began with the story of
his own grievances, which were many and trivial.
He said the massacre (he had not yet heard of the
Thornburgh fight, though they knew of his ap
proach southward) occurred because Major Thorn-
burgh, whom he knew not by name, but who was
perfectly described, told the Indians that he was going
to arrest the head chiefs, take them to Fort Steele and
IIO THE UTE WAR.
put them in the calaboose — perhaps hang them. He
said Agent Meeker had written all the letters to the
Denver papers and circulated wild reports about what
the Indians would do, as set forth by the western
press, and that he was responsible for all the hostility
.against the Indians among the whites in the west.
He manifested a perfect knowledge of what had been
said in the papers, and quoted largely, almost word
for word, from them.
He said, furthermore, that pictures of the Agent
and all his family, women and children, had been
found on Thornburgh's body just before the attack on
the agency, and the pictures were covered with blood,
and showed marks of knives on different parts of the
bodies. The throats were cut The one of the
Agent had a bullet hole in his head. Josephine was
represented in one of the pictures as shot through the
breast. Douglass said Father Meeker had made these
pictures, representing the prospective fate of his fam
ily, and sent them to Washington, to be used to
influence the soldiers and hurry troops forward to
fight the Indians.
This remarkable statement, strange as it may seem,
was afterward repeated to the captives by a dozen dif
ferent Indians, and the recital and the particulars were
always the same.
While Douglass was telling this he stood in front
of the captive girl with his gun, and his anger was
dreadful. Then he shouldered his gun and walked
up and down before her in the moonlight and imitated
the employes, who had kept guard at the agency for
three nights before the massacre. He mocked them,
and sneered and laughed at them, and said he was " a
heap big Indian." Then he sang English songs
which he had heard the agency employes sing in their
rooms. He sang the negro melody, "Swing Low,
THE UTE WAR.
Ill
Sweet Chariot," and asked Josephine if she under
stood, which she easily did, because he had the words
and tune perfectly committed. He said the Agent
had always been writing to Washington. He always
saw him writing when he came to the agency. It
was write, write, write all day, he said. Then he
swore a fearful oath in English, and said if the soldiers
had not come and threatened the Indians with Fort
Steele and the calaboose and threatened to kill the
other Indians at White River, the Agent and em
ployes would not have been massacred.
CHIEF DOUGLASS.
Then the brave chief, Douglass, who had eaten at
the family table that very day, walked off a few feet,
returned and placed his loaded gun to Josie's forehead
three separate times, and asked her if she was going
to run away.
She told him that she was not'afraid of him nor of
death, and should not run away.
112 THE UTE WAR.
When he found his repeated threats could not
frighten her, all the other Indians turned on him and
laughed at him, and made so much fun of him that
he sneaked off and went over to frighten her mother.
She heard her cry " Oh ! " and supposed that she
thought some terrible fate had befallen her daughter,
who shouted to her that she was not hurt ; that she
need not be afraid ; that they were only trying to
scare her. The night was still, but she heard no res
ponse.
What happened to Mrs. Meeker is related by her.
She says :
" They talked indecently to us and made shameful
proposals. They were drunk, and their conversation
was loud with ribaldry. They even threatened me
with death if I did not submit to their bestiality.
Fortunately I escaped outrage, but had to submit to
terrifying threats of violence and death. Douglass
went through the burlesque of imitating the employes
in keeping guard at the agency. He mocked the
soldiers, walking up and down with a gun on his
shoulder, and sang.
" As I lay on the ground, not knowing when I
should be butchered, I thought of my young daughter
Josephine, who was not far away, and wondered if she
had already been slaughtered. My face was partly
covered, but suddenly I heard Douglass's voice. I
turned and saw Chief Douglass standing close by me,
with the muzzle of his gun pointed directly at my
face. I involuntarily cried out. Josephine heard me
and her voice came out of the night, saying :
" * I am all right, mamma , don't be afraid ! '
" Douglass lowered his gun, raised it again and
took aim. I said nothing and he walked away. An
Indian standing near said :
THE UTE WAR. 113
" ' Douglass no hurt you. He only playing sol
dier."'
After half an hour of this exhibition all hands took
a drink around Josie's bed ; then they saddled their
horses, and Persune led the young lady's horse to
her and knelt down on his hands and knees for her to
mount from his back. He always did this, she says,
and when he was absent his wife did it. 'She saw
Persune do the same gallant act once for his squaw,
but it was only once, and none of the other Indians
did it at all for the other white women or their
squaws.
They urged their horses forward and journeyed in
the moonlight through to the Grand Mountains with
the Indians talking in low tones among themselves,
having greatly quieted down. The little three-year-
old May Price, who was fastened behind Josephine,
cried a few times, for she was cold and had had no
supper, and her mother was away; but the child was
generally quiet.
It was after midnight when they made the second
halt in a deep and sombre canon, with tremendous
mountains towering on every side, where the squaws
were camped. Mrs. Meeker was not allowed to come
up where her daughter was. Douglass kept her with
him half a mile further down the ravine. Mrs. Price
was kept away from both of the other ladies, all being
separated.
Mrs. Meeker's rough treatment, which continued
during the entire captivity, began here. She says
that when she reached the Ute women's camp,
Douglass ordered her roughly to get off the horse.
She was so lame and in such pain that she told him
she could not move. He took her hand and pulled
her off, and she fell on the ground, because she could
not stand. An Indian and a squaw soon came and
8
H4 THE UTE WAR-
helped her up and led her to a tent. When she went
to bed Douglass and his wife covered her with
blankets, and she was more comfortable that night
than at any other time during her captivity.
Relating her experiences of that night and the next
morning, Mrs. Price says:
"When we arrived at the camp that night, a squaw
came and took my little boy from the horse and cried
over him like a child. I dismounted and sat down in
Persune's camp. I wasn't at all hungry, and when
they offered me coffee, cold meat and bread I could
not eat. After a while the squaw got over her weep
ing, when they talked and laughed. All I could
understand was when they repeated the soldiers'
names and counted what number of men they had
killed at the agency. They said they had killed nine.
At first they said ten, and I told them differently, as I
thought Frank had escaped. They asked me how
many, and seemed to accept my statement as correct.
They spread some blankets for me to lie on, but I
could not sleep. The moon shone very brightly and
everything looked ghastly. In the morning I went
to Persune's tent and sat by the fire. I was cold, for
I had nothing to wear except a calico dress. I sat
there weeping — I could not help it — with my little
boy in my arms. The squaws came around and
talked and looked at me, and laughed and made fun
of me. I didn't understand what they said, only
occasionally a word. After a time some of the men
came in and talked to the squaws, and looked at me
and laughed. "
Persune had plenty of blankets, which were stolen
from the agency. He spread some for Miss Jose
phine's bed, and rolled up some^for her pillow and
told her to retire. Then the squaws came and
laughed, and grinned and gibbered in their own grim
THE UTE WAR. 11$
way. When she hacTlain down on the blankets two
squaws, one old and one young, came to the bed, and
sang and danced fantastically and joyously at her feet,
piercing the wild mountain midnight air with their
yells. The other Indians stood around, and when the
women reached a certain part of their recitative they
all broke into laughter. Toward the end of their
song Persune gave each of them a newly stolen gov
ernment blanket, which they took and then went
away. The young lady relates that the strangeness
and wild novelty of position kept her awake until
toward morning, when she fell into a doze, and did
not awake until the sun was shining over the moun
tains.
CAPTAIN JACK.
By this time the Indians were all astir, and Miss
Josephine opened her eyes upon a wild and exciting
scene. It was all understood when Douglass an
nounced:
" Runner just come; Indians killed heap soldiers;
Douglass go to front; gone five days."
Il6 THE UTE WAR.
It was evident that an Indian runner had followed
close upon their heels the night before, bringing the
news of the fight with Thornburgh, and that he had
arrived early in the morning. The Indians were now
off for the front, to assist their brethren in the resist
ance to the invasion of their country by the soldiers.
The runner reported that Thornburgh had been killed
and his troops forced to retreat to a point where they
could be easily picked off by the Indians. The
women were left with the squaws, and the bucks all
took their leave for the scene of battle, Cojoe strap
ping a cartridge belt about him and going with the
White River Utes.
At this juncture the story of the women becomes
more interesting, as told in their own language, than
in any other shape :
"On Tuesday, after most of the men had left the
camp," says Miss Josie, " mother came up to see me,
in company with a little Indian girl. On Wednesday,
the next day, Johnson went over to Jack's camp and
brought back Mrs. Price and her baby to live in his
camp. He said he had made it all right with the other
Utes.
" We did not do anything but be around the various
camps and listen to the talk of the squaws, whose hus
bands were away fighting the soldiers. On Wednes
day and on other days one of Supanzisquait's three
squaws put her hand on my shoulder and said: —
'"Poor little girl, I feel so sorry; you have no
father, and you are away off with the Utes so far from
home.'
"She cried all the time, and said her own little'
child had just died and her heart was sore. When
Mrs. Price came into camp, another squaw took her
baby, Johnny, into her arms and wept over him, and
said in Ute that she felt very sorry fdr the captives.
THE UTE WAR. 117
*
" Next day the squaws and the few Indians who were
there packed up and moved the camp ten or twelve
miles, into an exceedingly beautiful valley, with high
mountains all around it. The grass was two feet
high, and a stream of pure soft water ran through the
valley. The water was so cold I could hardly drink it.
" Every night the Indians, some of whom had come
back from the soldiers, had councils. Mr. Brady had
just come up from the Uncompahgre Agency with a
message from Chief Ouray, for the Indians to stop
fighting the soldiers. He had delivered the message,
and this was why so many came back.
"On Sunday, most of them were in damp. They
said they had the soldiers hemmed in a canon, and
were merely guarding them. Persune came back,
wearing a pair of soldier's blue pantaloons, with yel
low stripes on the legs. He took them off and gave
them to me for a pillow. His legs were protected
with leggings, arid he did not need them. I asked
the Indians before Brady came where the soldiers
were. They replied that they were "still in that cel
lar," and the Indians were killing their ponies when
they went for water in the night. They said : —
"'Indian stay on mountains and see white soldiers;
soldiers no see Indian; white soldier not know how to
fight.'
" About an hour after supper of the day the Indians
left, " says Mrs. Price, " an old squaw ordered me to
go with her to another tent to sleep, so I went to
Henry Jim's tent, where I sat down. They had no
fire, but soon made one, and the squaws crowded
around. Henry asked me a few questions. He said
he felt very bad for me. He said he told the Utes
not to murder the people at the agency. He had
been assisting the issuing clerk and acted as interpre
ter. He said they were friendly and he liked them
Il8 THE UTE WAR.
i
very much. He said the Utes told him he was noth
ing but a little boy for refusing to kill the white men
at the agency, but when they called him a boy he
said it was too much for him. He had no more to
say after that. He asked me if I was going to stay
all night in his tent. I said the squaw had brought
me over there to sleep. He said, 'All right; you
stay here all night. ' So his squaw made me a very
nice bed of about ten blankets. I went to bed and
she tucked me in quite nicely. I slept well, got up,
washed myself, combed my hair and felt pretty well.
Henry's squaw cooked breakfast. She made bread
and prepared some coffee and fried venison, and there
was another squaw who brought in some fried pota
toes.
" I ate breakfast with my little boy in my arms, and
presently Chief Johnson came in, looking very angry
and troubled. He said gruffly, ' Hallo, woman ! ' and
shook hands. He sat down and presently three more
Utes came in. Johnson got out his pipe and they all
had a smoke around, and they talked about the sol
diers and their big battle.
" Henry said to me : ' You go now with Johnson
to see your little girl, who is with Josephine.' So I
mounted the horse behind Chief Johnson and rode
about five miles, and when I came up to Douglass's
camp I first saw Mrs. Meeker, and I went up to her,
shook hands and kissed her, and felt very badly for
her. She said :
" ' Don't make any fuss. '
" Josephine and my little girl had been to a brook
to get a drink. We sat down and had a nice talk
until the squaws came and told me I must go to
Johnson's tent and the little girl to Persune's. Miss
Josie went down to Johnson's tent, where they put
down Mrs. Meeker's comforter for me to sit down on,
THE UTE WAR. I 1 9
and asked if I was hungry. I told them yes, and
they went to work and cooked some dinner for me.
" The next day we moved from that place to another
camp. It was a very nice place, with grass two feet
high, a nice brook of clear, cool water flowing
through it. The Indians had killed many soldiers
MRS. PRICE AND HER BABIES.
and were prancing around in their coats and hats,
putting on airs and imitating soldiers, and making fun
of them while going through a burlesque drill, and
making believe they were the greatest warriors in the
west.
"They took a great fancy to^rny little child and
wanted to keep him. They crept into the tent after
I2O THE UTE WAR.
him, and when they found they could not steal him
they offered three ponies for him.
" In the afternoon, about two o'clock, they cut a lot
of sage brush, piled it up and spread over it the
clothes they had stolen from the soldiers. Four of
the Indians then began to dance around them, and at
intervals fell on their knees before them and thrust
their knives into them and went through a mimic
massacre of soldiers. Other Utes kept joining the
party that was dancing until a ring was made as big
as a good sized house. They would first run away,
then turn and dance back the other way, yelling and
hollowing like frescoed devils. They had war suits,
fur caps with eagle feathers, and they looked strangely
hideous. They wanted Miss Josie and me to dance
with them. We told them we could not. ' We no
sabe dance.'
" That afternoon Mrs. Meeker came over and we
had an old-fashioned talk. She told us her troubles.
They harl threatened to stab her with knives, she said.
Charley, Chief Douglass's son-in-law, soon came
around in a very bad humor, and as he could speak
good English we didn't dare to talk much after he
appeared. Mrs. Meeker said she felt as though she
might be killed any night ; that they treated her very
meanly. Josephine seemed down-hearted, though she
was plucky. I tried to cheer her all I could.
" The Indians would not let us go alone any dis
tance from the camp. They asked me if I had any
money,. and I told them I did not, as it was all burned.
We asked them where the soldiers were, and they
said they were down in that cellar, meaning the en
trenchments. They said the Indians would lay around
on the mountains and kill the soldiers' horses. The sol
diers would not appear at all in the day time. At
THE UTE WAR. 121
night they would slip out, only to be shot by the
Indians.
" They threatened if I attempted to run away they
would shoot me. Johnson put a gun to my forehead
and told me he would kill me. I said :
" ' Shoot away. I don't care if I die ; shoot- if you
wan't to. '
" He laughed then, and would say : ' Brave squaw;
good squaw ; no scare. '
" They also said Josephine would very soon die, as
she drank no coffee and ate very little. I told them
it was the same at the agency, that she ate little and
drank no coffee. They talked it over among them
selves and said no more about it. They made fun of
Mrs. Meeker, and said 'maybe the Utes will kill her.'
I said to them : ' No, don't you kill my mother ; I
heap like her. ' ' All right, ' they would say. ' Pretty
good mother; pretty good mother.' Cojoe pointed
his gun at me and 'threatened to kill me many times.
' The Indians held considerable conversation with
each other in regard to the massacre and tried to get
information from us. They told various stories how
the fight occurred and who were concerned in it.
From all that I heard of their talk I think Antelope
or Pauviets shot the Agent. Chief Johnson said he
shot Thornburgh in the forehead three times with his
pistol, and then got off his pony and he went to him
and pounded him in the head and smashed his skull
all in. They took some of his clothes off, but I did
not see any of them worn in camp. The Indians
Ebenezer, Douglass, Persune, Jim Johnson and Char
ley Johnson were at the agency massacre. Jack was
not there. He was fighting the soldiers. Johnson's
brother lata was killed by Frank Dresser. Washing
ton was on the ground. They all had guns and
helped to shoot. Josephine said she saw an Indian
122 THE UTE WAR.
named Creep there. I did not see any of the bodies
at the agency. I only heard the firing and saw the
Indians shooting toward the buildings where the men
were working.
" The Utes said they were going to kill all the sol
diers, and that the women should always live in the
Utes' camp, excepting Mrs. Meeker. Douglass said
she could go home by and by, when she would per
haps see Frank Dresser, who, the Indians thought,
had escaped. They made me do more drudgery than
they did Josephine. They made her cook and made
me carry water. They told me to saddle the pony,
and I told them I didn't know how.
Mrs. Meeker's story covers many points of interest
not touched upon by either her daughter or Mrs.
Price, and we reproduce it also. She says:
" Douglass's squaw treated me very well for one or
two days ; then she began to ill-use me, and gave me
nothing to eat for one day. While Douglass was
gone his son-in-law told me frightful stories. He said
the Indians 'no shoot' me, but would stab me to
death with knives. One squaw went through the
pantomime of roasting me alive — at least I so under
stood it. Josephine told me that it was only done to
torment me. If Douglass had got killed, I would
probably have been punished. A row of knives was
prepared, with scabbards, and placed in the tent for
use. Then Douglass's son-in-law, Johnson, came to
me and asked if I had seen the knives being fixed all
day. I said ' Yes.' He replied that ' Indians perhaps
stab ' me and ' no shoot ' me. ' You say Douglass
your friend ; we see Douglass when come back from
soldiers.' Many of the squaws looked very sorrow
ful, as if some great calamity were about to happen ;
others were not kind to me, and Freddie Douglass,
the chief's son, whom I had .taken into my house at
THE UTE WAR. 123
the agency, and washed and taught and doctored and
nursed and made healthy, came to me in my captivity
and mocked me worse than all the rest. The Doug
lass blood was in him, and he was bad. He said I
was a bad squaw and an old white squaw. He tried
to steal the old wildcat skin that I slept on, and he
stole my handkerchief while I was asleep and jeered
me during my imprisonment.
" Douglass returned from fighting the soldiers on
Saturday night. On the next day his wife went back
to the agency for the cabbages raised by the cultiva
tion the Indians professed so much to despise.
Douglass was morose and sullen, and had little to say.
He did not seem to be satisfied with the military sit
uation, but thought the Indians would annihilate the
soldiers. Large numbers of head men and captains
came to consult Douglass. They were in and out
most of the night, making speeches and discussing
things in general, as though the fate of the universe
depended on their decision. Douglass often asked us
where the Agent was. I said that I did not know.
Douglass rejoined that neither did he know. Mrs.
Douglass treated me spitefully, and her chief was not
much better, though he . gave me enough to eat.
When he was gone, very little was cooked."
On Sunday night Jack came to camp and made a
big speech, as also did Johnson. They said more
troops were coming, and they recited what orders
they said had been brought from Chief Ouray. They
were in great commotion, and did not know what to
do. They talked all night, and the next morning
they struck half their tents and put them up again.
Part were for going away, part for staying, and being
undecided they remained. Jack's men were all day
coming up into camp, and all left on Tuesday morn
ing before daylight for Grand River and they had a
124 THE UTE WAR-
long ride. The cavalcade was fully two miles long.
The wind blew a hurricane, and the dust was so thick
that Miss Josephine says she could not see ten feet
back on the line, and she could write her name on her
hand in the dust. Most of the Indians had had no
breakfast, and they traveled all day without food or
water.
" It was," says Mrs. Meeker, " a very long and ter
rible journey that I made that day. I rode a pony
with neither saddle nor bridle nor stirrups. There
was only a tent cloth strapped on the horse's back,
and an old halter to guide him with. It was the most
distressing experience of my life. Not a single halt
was made, and my pain was so great that the cold
drops stood on my forehead. I could only cling to
the pony by riding astride. We traveled rapidly,
over mountains so steep that one would find difficulty
in walking over them on foot. The dust was suffo
cating, and I had neither water nor dinner. Josephine
and Mrs. Price rode afhead. One of the mountains
was so steep that, after making part of the ascent,
Douglass's party had to turn back and go around it.
This incident shows what hardships delicate women
on bare-back horses had. to endure. We reached a
camping ground half an hour after dark and pitched
our tents in- the valley. I was so faint that I could
not get off the horse nor move until a kind woman
assisted me to the ground. I was too ill and exhausted
to eat, and I went to bed without any supper."
The camp that night was in the sage brush. The
following morning (Wednesday) they moved five
miles down the river.
CHAPTER Xir.
MARCHING ON TO THE FINAL CAMPING PLACE EXPOSED
TO THE WEATHER MISS MEEKER'S NOTE TO THE UIN-
TAH AGENCY MRS. MEEKER^S GREAT DEPENDENCE ON
JOSEPHINE — RENEWED THREATS BITTER TREATMENT
OF THE OLD LADY WAR AND MEDICINE DANCES —
MRS. PRICE TAKES A HAND — DESCRIPTION OF THE UTE
COUNTRY TRADITION CONCERNING IT THE GOOD
SQUAW SUSAN — HER GRATITUDE FOR PAST KINDNESSES
— A TOUCHING STORY — RESCUE BY GENERAL ADAMS
OUT OF BONDAGE-J-THE JOURNEY HOME — ORATIONS —
LEADVILLE'S RESOLUTIONS.
The Indians, Johnson apparently in charge, re
mained on Grand River with their captives until Sat
urday. While there Miss Josephine sent a note to
the Uintah Agency in Utah by Uintah Utes, who were
with the hostiles, requesting that it be forwarded. It
read as follows :
" GRAND RIVER, 40 to 50 Miles from Agency,
"Oct. 10, 1879.
"To UINTAH AGENT:
" I send this by one of your Indians. If you get it
do all in your power to liberate us as soon as possible.
I do- not think they will let us go of their own accord.
You will do me a great s'ervice to inform Mary
Meeker, at Greeley, Col., that we are well and may
get home some time. Yours, etc.,
"JOSEPHINE MEEKER,
"United States Indian Agent's daughter."
The note was written with a lead pencil on the
back of a piece of paper which had formerly done
126 THE UTE WAR.
service as a dry goods label. It reached Washington
on the 3Oth of October, after the captives were liber
ated, and was not then of the service it might have
been under different circumstances.
The mountains were very high, and the Indians were
on the peaks with glasses watching the soldiers. They
said they could look down on the site of the agency.
Johnson had field glasses and all day he was watching
the soldiers, and would only come down'to his supper.
The Indians took turns watching during the night, and
during the day they covered the hills and watched
the soldiers through their glasses. Runners came in
with foaming steeds constantly. On Saturday morn
ing the programme was for twenty Utes to go back
to White River, scout around on the mountains and
watch the soldiers ; but just as they were about to de
part there was a terrible commotion, for some of the
scouts on the mountains had discovered the troops,
ten or fifteen miles south of the agency, advancing
toward the camp. The Indians ran in every direc
tion, the horses became excited, and for a time hardly
a pony could be approached. Johnson flies into a
passion when there is danger. This time his horses
kicked and confusion was supreme. Johnson seized
a whip and laid it over the shoulders of his youngest
squaw, named Cooz. He pulled her hair and re
newed the lash until she cried and screamed. He
then went to help his other squaw, Susan, Chief
Ouray's sister, pack up. They put Mrs. Price and her
baby on one horse, and strapped little May in a
blanket behind Josephine. Johnson was very mad
and pointed his gun at Mrs. Price and Miss Jose
phine. Mrs. Price told him to shoot away, and asked
him to shoot her in the forehead. He said :
" No, good squaw ; no scare. "
THE UTE WAR.
127
They then started for another camping place south
of the Grand River.
The next day was Sunday, and the camp and Miss
Josephine were again moved twenty-five miles south
to a point on Grand River; but Mrs. Meeker and
Mrs. Price did not come up for three or four days.
The rain set in and continued two days and three
nights. Miss Josie*did not suffer, for she was in camp,
but the other ladies and the baby, who were kept on
the road, were soaked each day. Johnson, who had
Mrs. Price, went beyond the camp in which Miss
Meeker was left, and all the other Indians behind
camped with Johnson.
DOCTOR JOHNSON.
Johnson's oldest wife is the sister of Chief Ouray,
and he was kinder than the others. His wife cried
over the captives and made the children shoes.
The • Indians said they would stay at their camp,
and if the soldiers advanced, they'would get them in
a canon and kill them all. They said that neither
American soldiers nor American horses understood
128 THE UTE WAR.
the country. The Utes were now close to the Un-
compahgre district, and could not retreat much farther.
Colorow made a big speech, arid advised the Indians
to go no farther south. However, they were removed
one day's ride to Plateau Creek, a little stream empty
ing into Grand River from the south. Eight miles
more travel on two other days brought them to the
camping ground where General Adams found them.
This was near to Plateau Creek, but high up, and not
•far from the snowy range.
After this last place was reached, Douglass permit
ted Josephine to see her mother every day, and the
long hours were more endurable. " The courage of
the brave girl and her words of hope," says Mrs.
Meeker, "cheered me very much. My life would not
have been safe had it not been for her influence with
the Indians. She could speak some of their language,
and she made them cease terrifying me with their
horrible threats and indecent stories. She finally
forced Douglass to give me a saddle, so that in the
last days of journeying I had something besides a
bare-back horse to ride upon. It gave me great joy
on one of the evenings of those terrible first days to
have her, as we passed each other in the moonlight,
sing out cheerily : —
"'Keep up good courage, mother; I am all right;
we shall not be killed."
The last evenings of the stay among the red devils
were devoted to songs and merry making by those
who were not away on the mountains watching the
soldiers. Mrs. Price joined in some of the choruses*
because it helped the captives and made the Indians
more lenient. They told a great variety of -stories
and cracked jokes on each other and on the white
men. They had dances and medicine festivals.
Speaking of these trying times Mrs. Price says :
THE UTE WAR. 1 2Q
" In regard to my days of captivity I can only say
the Indians were at times lively and joked with us, so
that I was forced to laugh a good many times at their
strange humor when I did not feel like it. It seemed
to please them very much. They would say ' Biiena
momets ' (good woman). When Josephine came in
they would say she was cross. She was very much
grieved, and when her blood was up she talked to
them in a lively strain and made them treat Mrs.
Meeker better. After Johnson and Mrs. Meeker had
talked together about the Agent, Mrs. Meeker came
to Johnson's to stay. He treated her with great care.
Previously she was not welcomed. The meanest
thing they did to the poor little woman was to fright
en her with their knives and horrible grimaces and
bad stones. They tried to scare us all out of our
wits."
The children also took part in their festivities and
sang as gleefully and loudly as if real papooses, thus
increasing their favor with the Utes, until before the
captives left the savages made Mrs. Price an offer of
ten ponies for them.
The singing of the medicine song is always resort
ed to when an Indian is sick, and Miss Josephine was
favored with several opportunities to witness these
ceremonies.
As a usual thing no whites are admitted to the
tents while these songs are in progress, but she being
considered one of Persune's family, was allowed to
remain. When Persune's child was sick his family
asked Josephine to sing with them, which she did.
The Medicine Man kneels close to the sufferers, with
his back to the spectators, while he sings in a series
of high-keyed grunts, gradually reaching a lower and
solemn tone. The family join, and at intervals he
howls so loudly that one can hear him a mile ; then
9
130 THE UTE WAR.
his voice dies away and only a gurgling sound is
heard, as if his throat were full of water. The child
lies nearly stripped. The doctor presses his lips
against the breast of the sufferer and repeats the
gurgling sound. He sings a few minutes more, and
then all turn around and smoke and laugh and talk.
Sometimes the ceremony is repeated all night. Miss
Josie assisted at two of these medicine festivals.
Mrs. Price's boy became expert at singing Ute songs,
and the children sang to each other on the journey
home. The sick bed ceremonies were very strange,
and Miss Meeker says weird, and more interesting
than anything she saw in all her captivity of twenty-
three days.
Frequent war dances were also witnessed. One
of their favorite amusements was to put on a negro
soldier's cap, a short coat and blue pantaloons, and
imitate the negroes in speech and walk. The captives
could not help laughing because they were so accu
rate in their personations. On Sunday they made a
pile of sagebrush as large as a washstand, and put
soldiers' clothes and a hat on the pile ; then they
danced a war dance and sang as they waltzed around
it. They were in their best clothes, with plumes and
fur dancing caps, made of skunk skins and grizzly
bear skins, with ornaments of eagle feathers. Two or
three began the dance, and others joined, until a ring
as large as a house was formed. There were some
squaws, and all had knives. They charged on the
pile of coats with their knives and pretended that they
would burn the brush. They became almost insane
with frenzy and excitement. The dance lasted from
two o'clock until sundown.
In these war dances, the grotesque and horrible
form a dreadful accompaniment, which even to a sav
age mind can be excused only by the dread uncertainty
INDIAN WAR DANCE.
132 THE UTE WAR.
of the war to follow the uncouth ceremony. The
devil is particularly materialized for the occasion, and
the enemies of the tribe turned over to his domain,
while the wild bull of the happy hunting grounds is
propitiated, in the hope that his prototypes in the op
posing camp will become the loot of the victors.
Notwithstanding these hilarities, however, the In
dians were troubled and anxiQus about the troops.
Runners were constantly coming and going. The
least rumor or movement of the soldiers threw the
Indians into a flutter. Chief Douglass began to real
ize the peril of the situation. Colorow advised them
to go no farther south, though the troops were moving
down from the north. "They had better fight," he
said, " and defend their camps, than retreat." Chief
Ouray, the friend of the whites, ^did not want the
White River Utes on his domain. Douglass spoke of
the agency as gone forever. He said it would have
to be built up again. The Indians had lost all, and
with a sigh he exclaimed:
" Douglass a heap poor man now."
When he had time he fell to abusing the Agent,
and said that if he had kept the troops away, there
would have been no war.
The Indians, when in camp, spent their time mold
ing bullets from lead which they carried, singing,
drinking, dancing, holding councils to discuss the
state of affairs, and in referring to the scenes of the
few preceding days. They told over and over again
the story of the White River massacre, alleging gross
provocation suffered from Meeker, the delay of the
government in paying them what it owed, and the ad
vance of the troops, as excuses. They said that
Colonel Thornburgh and many of his soldiers were
intoxicated at the time of the battle on Milk Creek.
They also denied mutilating the bodies of their vie-
THE UTE WAR. 133
tims. They repeated and re-repeated the assertion
that Agent Meeker was a bad man ; that he lied about
them, and would not issue supplies to them unless
they would work ; and that when they refused to work,
he threatened to bind them with handcuffs and chains
and hang them. They said that he told them that
Thornburgh had chains with him, and that upon his
arrival he would help to bind and hang them. [This
probably accounts for their binding Meeker's body,
as at the agency, where the body lay, when first seen a
chain was found around his neck.] They said that
they interviewed Thornburgh at Bear River and on
Williams' Fork before the fight on Milk River, when
he appeared haughty and would not afford them any
explanation or satisfaction, saying that he was a big
warrior, too, and would go to the agency with his
whole command, and not a few men only, as they
asked him to do, and that he was their best friend
when fighting them ; that they were his best friends
when fighting him, although they might kill him;
and that, while so talking, he held a loaded carbine
ready in his hands and seemed to want to fight; that
thereupon, they determined to resist his march
through the canon, and stationed themselves on Milk
River, at the mouth of the canon, to await his arrival
and show their determination. Colonel Thornburgh
persisted in pursuing his march toward the agency,
and the fight ensued September 29th on Milk River,
Colonel Thornburgh being one of the first to fall, the
Indians losing twenty men in the first day's fight and
thirty-four in all during the irregular fight of six days
with Thornburgh's command, two of the thirty-four
being killed in the skirmish with Merritt's men Sun
day morning, October 5th, upon the arrival of the
relief column.
The arrangements for a fight with Merritt's com-
134
THE UTE WAR.
mand they said were most complete. Two hundred
Arapahoes, according to account, had joined Jack,
and many others from the neighboring tribes, and had
it not been for the timely arrival of Chief Ouray's
order to cease fighting the name of Merritt and his
command would have passed into history by the side
of Custer, with the same epitaph — "Annihilated by
Indians."
They seemed especially to despise Agent Meeker
and the efforts which had been made to improve and
civilize them. One day a squaw said to Mrs.
Meeker :
"What could you expect? The Indians had to
kill the whites, because neither they nor the Agent
would do as the Utes told them to do. "
Many of the Indians during those times made con
fessions which may well be used to their detriment in the
investigation now in progress. Chief Johnson, while
speaking of the battle with the troops, avowed him
self to be the one who fired the shot which killed
Colonel Thornburgh, and Mrs. Price in relating her
experience says : ' While Douglass was drunk he
told me a lot of things that he don't know of now.
If he had ever remembered, he would have killed me.
He arranged the whole thing, and the soldiers coming
has made him afraid, and he is trying to get out of it
now. He's the smartest and meanest of them all. "
They generally agreed that Jack led the fight at
Milk River, while Douglass conducted the massacre
at the agency.
Washington expressed himself freely. " Meeker
heap fool," he said speaking of the Agent. " Me no
likum work. Make Washington heap tired. Me
shoot ; me no work. Me killum black tail. " Wash
ington did not like Ouray, and was not especially
friendly towards Douglass. He said that Ouray had
THE UTfi WAR. 135
sold Indian land and put the money which he had re
ceived for it into his own pocket. In fact Washing
ton did not seem to like any Indian except himself.
He was a good Ute — liked the white man, never
troubled the whites, wouldn't lie or steal, and so on.
After a eulogy on his virtues he took carefully from
his vest pocket a soiled envelope, from which he took
a piece of legal cap paper, which he handed to his
white auditors with much satisfaction of manner. It
was a " character " and read about as follows : " The
bearer, George Washington, is a good Ute. He will
not steal the white man's horses, nor anything else
from the white man." The signature was a scrawl,
which meant nothing. When the paper was returned
to him he put it away as carefully as if it had been his
last dollar bill and he a thousand miles from home.
It is needless to add that Washington is a sneak and
a scoundrel.
While remaining here, awaiting the arrival of Gen
eral Adams on his mission of mercy, it will not be out
of place to give the reader the tradition of the Indians
in regard to tfoe geological history of their country,
the scene of the tradition being laid very near where
the Indians were then encamped. This legend is to
the effect that the forefathers of the tribe, long years
ago, lived near a vast warm lake northeast of the Big
River; that the country was warm, full of big trees
and big deer and big oxen with white horns; that big
fishes and snakes as long as an hundred lodge poles
abounded in this lake; that one day all the big oxen
began to roar together, and that they raised such a
steam from their nostrils that the earth reeled and the
sun was obscured; that suddenly the lake fell, and
continued falling for three moons, and then became so
much reduced that they knew it not any more, but
that the big lake they found had been drained away
136 THE UTE WAR.
to the south, and that its warm water had gone out
through the mountains, the present canon of Green
River and of the Big River (the Colorado); and that
£his old bed in the Toom-pin-to-weep, as they call the
stream, is where the lake waters were drained. They
also say that the story goes on that all the big deer
and the big oxen with white horns strayed away east
ward, and all perished in the mountains from cold or
by the arrows of the Ute hunters; that soon after a
big flood formed Grand River Canon, and after this
flood came a small race of people who had skin ca
noes, and who brought seed corn of a small kind,
called in Spanish chiquito maze; that these people
were almost white, and that they taught the Utes how
to make good spears and bows and earthenware ; that
they built stone houses in the cliffs, and cultivated
pumpkins, corn and beans; that they had silver and
gold in abundance, and iron tools that they had ob
tained in the mountains to the northeast; that after
wards, from the northwest, came big red Indians over
to this country and killed and drove off the little
people, who finally all went south, as we'll as the big
red men, who are the Apaches, Navajoes and Kiowas.
They also say that the big oxen with white horns, the
grande lagarios (probably alligators), were found down
among the Apache and Navajo Indians, but that by
and by the country became dryer and colder, and the
Utes only were left on the Big River and its branches;
that melted rocks were poured out everywhere and
left the country desolate, and that the little people had
told their forefathers that where they came from were
big waters, and in these waters were men with bodies
like a fish. They say that in this old river bed is
plenty of gold, but that it is sure death for any one to
go into the canon to get it.
And while we are speaking of the formation of the
THE UTE WAR. 137
land it will not be out of place to refer to it now, es
pecially as there are good grounds for hoping that it
will now be opened to settlement by the removal of
the Indians. Speaking of the nation from an agricul
tural point of view, General Adams says :
" It is good for nothing. There is room for two or
three good cattle ranches, but nothing else. The
elevation is 8,500 feet, and nothing but potatoes will
grow there. Out of the 12,000,000 acres in the entire
reservation, perhaps 25,000 in the Uncompahgre val
ley could be cultivated. I rode one hundred miles
along the Grand River and did not find in the whole
distance feed for my horse. One year the govern
ment supported a farmer on the reservation at $60 a
month. Besides this he had his living. He raised as
the result of this year's work twelve potatoes, three
heads of lettuce and two bunches of radishes. Ex
cept the Uncompahgre Valley there is no country
worth anything for farming."
The Uncompahgre Valley of which General Adams
speaks is a lovely strip of land running through the
southern portion of the reservation. Settlers have
already squatted upon portions of it, which yield
splendid crops of all cereals, corn, garden vegetables,
including potatoes, turnips, etc. This river empties
into the Grand, which is also skirted" by pretty valleys
as are many of the other creeks and rivers. In Powell
Bottom, on White River, Agent Meeker was making
excellent progress in growing wheat and potatoes.
There are doubtless many valleys besides the Uncom
pahgre which would produce well; and as for the
grazing, it is unexcelled. The cattle on Bear River
are always in better condition than those on the
plains, and the agency herd at White River were in
excellent shape when the massacre began. There is
no conjecture concerning the existence of mineral
138 THE UTE WAR.
wealth. Iron ore and splendid coal were found in the
greatest abundance near White River Agency. In
deed Mr. Meeker opened up five or six coal mines
within a few miles of his location. On Anthracite
Creek, a branch of the North Fork of the Gunnison
River, on the reservation, Mr. Richard Irwin has
opened up a bed of anthracite coal which is unex
celled anywhere in the world. The best coking coal
in the west is found here.
In this same neighborhood placer gold has been
found in large quantities, and most miners believe that
quartz lodes of both gold and silver will be found
whenever they shall be afforded an opportunity to
search for them.
Climatically the country is during most seasons of
the year more pleasant than that on the east side of
the mountains.
The scenery is beautiful. Any one who has visit
ed the wonderful land which lies " over the range "
knows how impossible it is to put on paper a descrip
tion which will give the reader anything like a real
izing conception of the country. The immense
height of the hills and loftier crags and peaks, the
seemingly immeasurable depth of chasms and canons,
the wonderful expansion of distances, the color and
character and density of brush and timber, all unite
in forming a veritable terra incognita totally unlike
anything which lies beyond the Missouri River. The
fantastical contortions of the earth's surface are
chiefly due to volcanic action, of which evidences ap
pear at every turn. Great cliffs of lava ridge the
parks, and the same substance is found intruded be
tween strata of other rock, split asunder by the con
vulsions which made these mountains untold centuries
ago, and he who is venturesome enough to climb the
giddy heights will every now and then come upon the
THE UTE WAR. 139
well defined crater of an extinct volcano. Fossils —
unmistakable sea shells — have been dug from heights
ten or eleven thousand feet above tidewater, unques
tionably put there by the upheaval which lifted these
lofty ranges from depths below the sea. From two
hundred miles east from the White River Agency,
extending north into the British possessions, south
far down into Mexico and westward almost to the
Pacific, a net work of ranges, whose peaks tower from
ten to fifteen thousand feet above sea level — from two
to six or seven thousand feet above the rapid rivers
which wind through the narrow valleys between them
— are the Rocky Mountains. Although the great
" divide " which parts the waters flowing into the
two great oceans is termed " the Snowy Range," it is
not proper to speak of the Rockys as a " range " in
the sense that the term may be applied to the Green
Mountains or the Alleghanies. They are rather a
succession of interwoven ranges, extending north and
south the whole length of the Continent, and almost
a thousand miles from east to west.
It may be doubted if the fiftieth part of the ter
ritory included within their boundaries is capable of
tillage, to say nothing of climatic difficulties. But
the whole region abounds with the best imaginable
hiding places for thousands of fugitives, and almost
insurmountable obstacles to invaders. The most
available passes between the peaks are of some eleven
thousand feet elevation, while many others, which
must be crossed to reach certain districts, are much
higher ; and all of them impassable for six or seven
months of the year except on snow shoes. As the
sun advances higher and higher north of the Equator
these great snow barriers are gradually dissolved, and,
running down the steep declivities in thousands of
mountain rivulets, are gathered in the valleys in
I4O THE UTE WAR.
foaming torrents, tearing through numberless inacces
sible canons unbridged and unfordable, except at rare
intervals. A maze of trails webs the whole region,
perplexing and misleading the stranger, but as familiar
to the roving aborigines as the streets of New York
to the native gamin, who roams all over the island
without ever looking at the signs at street corners,
which he could not read if he did. There is hardly
any level ground, scarcely one acre in a hundred.
The whole country is up and down, with such steep
ascents and sharp declivities as cannot well be ima
gined by those who have not seen them.
Short, nutritious, wild mountain grasses grow in
profusion in the valleys and on the hills, and even
cover the lofty mountain tops, far above timber line,
wherever they happen not to be naked rock. These
grasses, unlike those of lesser altitudes, cure on the
ground, and after their life goes out retain the proper
ties of hay. Subsistence for animals is, therefore,
abundant so long as it is not covered with snow or the
country be not burned over; in that case the trans
portation of forage becomes one of the most serious
and expensive obstacles to invasion.
But this wonderful and inaccessible country — so
full of peril and hardship to the white man — is the
home of the Indian. He has climbed those crags
from childhood and knows every trail and ford. He
has learned to measure those heights and distances
with eyes which can see an approaching enemy miles
and miles away, while the observation is unsuspected
and the signals which telegraph his coming from peak
to peak are little dreamed of. He is as familiar with
every nook and corner of this rough, wild maze for
hundreds of miles in every direction from his agency
as any farmer's boy of sporting proclivities is with the
woods and glens and thickets which lie within ten
THE UTE WAR. 14!
miles of his paternal acres. The light air has no de
pressing influence upon his powers and endurance, for
he has run and leaped and climbed and hunted in it
all his life. He does not suffer from the cold and
snow, for he has learned to endure and protect him
self against them winter after winter. He clothes
himself in furs, and goes forth fearlessly in the rough
est weather, or wraps himself in buffalo or bear skins
and sleeps warm and comfortable when the mercury
is out of sight. Practice has taught him to go for
days without eating, and if it is not convenient to
cook the game he lives on, he will take it raw with
equal relish. For all practical purposes there is no
limit to the number of his ponies, strong of limb and
sure-footed, fleet as the wind, tough and hardy as
their master, accustomed to carry him one hundred
miles in a day whenever called upon, to climb those
steeps and swim those torrents, and to subsist and
grow fat on mountain grass, summer and winter, paw
ing, when necessary, through the snow to find it.
On Monday night the captives were told that a
white man, whom they called Washington, and who
proved to be General Adams, would come soon. At
last an Uncompahgre Ute came from Chief Ouray
and spoke very kindly, and as he sat by the fire,
said:
" To-morrow five white men coming and some In
dians."
Among them would be "Chicago man Sherman, a
great big peace man." General Adams and the In
dians were going to have a talk and the captives
would go home. The Uncompahgre said that a
wagon would be waiting at a certain place below the
plateau.
Relating the arrival of the Adams party, Miss Jo
sephine says :
142
THE UTE WAR.
" The next day, about eleven o'clock, while I was
sewing in Persune's tent, his boy, about twelve years
old, came in, picked up a buffalo robe and wanted me
to go to bed. I told him I was not sleepy. Then a
squaw came and hung a blanket before the door, and
spread out both hands to keep the blanket down, so I
could not push it away ; but I looked over the top and
saw General Adams and party outside on horses.
GENERAL ADAMS.
The squaw's movements attracted their attention, and
they came up close. I pushed the squaw aside and
walked out to meet them. They asked my name and
dismounted; said they had come to take us back, if
we cared to go. I -showed them the tent where mother
and Mrs. Price were stopping, and the General went
down, but they were not in; for, meanwhile, Johnson
had gone to where they were washing, on Plateau
Creek, and told them that a council was to be held,
THE UTE WAR. 143
)
and that they must not come up until it was over.
Dinner was sent to the ladies, and they were ordered
to stay there. About four o'clock, when the council
ended, General Adams ordered them to be brought to
him, which was done, and once more we were all to
gether in the hands of our friends."
We now quote Mrs. Meeker :
"When I first saw General Adams I could not say
a word, my emotion was so great. We had borne in
sults and threats of death, mockery and ridicule, and
not one of us had shed a tear, but the sight of General
Adams, Captain Cline, Mr. Sherman and their men
was too much for me. My gratitude was greater than
my speech. We owe much to the wife of Johnson.
She is Ouray 's sister, and, like him, she has a kind
heart. Ouray had ordered us to be well treated and
that we should be allowed to go home.
" The council was a stormy one. Various opinions
prevailed. The war party wanted us held until peace
should be made between the Indians and the govern
ment. They wanted to set us against the guilty mur
derers, so as to save them through us. After a few
hours of violent speeches, Mrs. Johnson burst into
the lodge, in a magnificent wrap, and demanded that
the captives should be set free, war or no war. Her
brother Ouray had so ordered, and she took the as
sembly by storm. She told the pathetic story of the
captives, and advised the Indians to do as Ouray re
quested and trust to the mercy of the government.
General Adams said he must have a decision at once,
or he would have to leave. That settled it, and we
were set free.
" Next morning, when we were about to start for the
wagon, which was a day's journey to the south, Chief
Johnson, who was slightly cool toward us, threw out
a poor saddle for me to ride upon. His wife Susan
144 THE UTE WAR.
caught sight of it and was furious. She flung it away
and went to a pile of saddles and picked out the best
one in the lot. She found a good blanket, and gave
both to me. Then she turned to her chief and poured
out her contempt with such effect that he was glad to
sneak away.
" So long as I remember the tears which this good
woman shed over the children, the words of sympathy
which she gave, the kindness that she continually
showed to us, I shall never cease to respect her and
to bless the goodness of her brother, Ouray, the
Spanish-speaking chief of the south. I trust all the
good people will remember them."
All the ladies agree that Susan was uniformly kind
and pleasant. Mrs. Price says :
"Johnson's wife was very kind. She treated me
just like a mother, though sometimes when tired she
would order me to get water. She treated my little
girl very kindly, made moccasins for her, and she
grieved over her and my boy as if they were her
own. She said the Utes had killed the child's papa ;
' Utes no good. ' She was for peace. She was Chief
Ouray 's sister, and Ouray was friendly to the whites,
and had sent messages to her to see that the whites
were not abused and should be returned soon. "
In this connection a story coming from the lips of
Major Whitely, who was for several years Agent at
White River, will be found of great interest. The
Major relates that while on his way to the Hot Sul
phur Springs, in Middle Park, he was overtaken by a
messenger from Governor Evans, who informed him
of the rescue of a Ute squaw from the Arapahoes and
Cheyennes by the officers of the United States Army
at Fort Collins. These Indians had captured this
squaw in some of their raids, and, while encamped
near the mouth of the Cache La Poudre, had deter-
THE UTE WAR. 145
mined to burn her at the stake. The commanding
officer at Fort Collins hearing of this, took a detach
ment of troops, and by alternate threats and promises
obtained her release, after she had already been tied
to the stake and the fires lighted. This squaw was
forwarded to Major Whitely, and after her arrival at
Hot Springs was sent by him to her people, being ac
companied by U. M. Curtis, the Major's interpreter,
and delivered to them after a journey across the west
ern portion of Colorado into the border of Utah, to
the camp of the Indians on the Snake River, where
she was received with every demonstration of joy by
the tribe. Major Whitely gave this squaw the name
of Susan, which she has borne ever since. A remark
able coincidence in this story is that the rescued
Meekers came from Greeley, which is the identical
spot where Susan herself was saved from burning by
the whites.
The rescue party found the captives picturesquely
attired in woolen blanket dresses made by themselves
with needles and O. N. T. Miss Josie's costume was
the most striking. Her dress was made of an Indian
blanket, plain skirt and long jacket waist with tight
sleeves. The blanket stuff was dark brown, the broad
yellow stripes in the goods acting as a border around
the bottom of the dress and the flowing waist. Her
feet were encased in moccasins, and on her head was
a broad white sombrero. Miss Meeker, though by no
means a handsome young lady, is bright and attrac
tive in appearance. She rs a blonde and naturally of
fair complexion, though now sun-burned. Her hair
is cut short to the neck, a sacrifice she made after
becoming a captive on account of the vermin which
swarmed everywhere. Mrs. Price is a young lady
yet. Though but twenty-three years of age, she has
been married eleven years. She is a neutral, natural-
10
146 THE UTE WAR.
ly bright and active, but just now the death of her
husband and her terrible experience has saddened
her. Mrs. Price was dressed in a plain woolen dress,
which she wore when taken captive. She, however,
exchanged it for a "blanket" dress similar to that
worn by Miss Meeker. She also wore a sombrero.
The two little children, May and Johnnie, wore their
agency clothes, sadly tattered and torn.
Relating her experience in the camp Miss Meeker
says : " In camp I worked all the time and so did
Mrs. Price. We baked and sewed and kept busy and
as cheerful and indifferent as we could. Besides
making myself some clothes I made a lot of clothes
for the young Indians, at which they were pleased.
The Indians said we would be kept there all winter,
and so while I expected that such would not be the
case, I concluded to make some clothes for myself,
especially as those I had were all banged up. "
After they were released they stopped all night at
Johnson's camp, and started early the next morning
on ponies for the wagons, which had been left at the
end of the road, about forty miles south toward the
Uncompahgre River. General Adams had left them
and gone to see the soldiers, so Captain Cline was in
charge of the party and the escort to the wagons on
the way back. The Indian escort which had accom
panied them for a time, left them, and Captain Cline
grew suspicious. He was an old pioneer, had served
in the army, and had fought the Indians in New
Mexico, and traveled over ' the western country so
much that, although a great friend of Ouray and his
Indians, still he was suspicious of these savages, and
thought that while the escort had been with the
White River Indians they had become corrupted. So
when he saw that they had left them he put spurs to
his horse and rushed on ahead of the party to where
THE UTE WAR. 147
the wagons were. He was afraid that they would cut
the harness to pieces or do some mischief to prevent
the captives from leaving immediately. This would
keep them in the neighborhood, so that in case Gen
eral Adams failed in stopping hostilities by a general
pow-wow they could recapture them and 'hold them
as hostages for a further treaty.
Captain Cline reached the wagons in a short time
and, as he suspected, found the Indians seated around
the wagons in a body with most of the blankets lying
on the ground already divided among them. They
had also got hold of the boxes of provisions and
canned fruit which General Adams had brought from
Los Pinos for the captives. They had burst them
open and were eating the contents. Captain Cline is
personally acquainted with many of the Indians, and
he completely astonished them. Jumping off his
horse he threw the reins on the ground, and, rushing
forward in great anger, he shouted : " Chief Ouray
shall hear of this, and will settle with you !"
The Captain then picked up an axe and began to
split kindling wood to prepare for the captives. His
object was to keep the axe in his hand and be master
of the situation until the main party should arrive.
He feared treachery, and, putting on a bold front, he
made it pretty li\ ely for the Indians. They fell back,
got off the blankets and gave up the canned fruit.
Captain Cline threw the blankets on the wagon with
what canned provisions there were left. Shortly after
this occurrence the party arrived with Major Sher
man. They then traveled on to Chief Ouray's
house.
Captain Cline was met by Ouray at the gate. The
good chief looked at him a moment and said :
" Captain, tell me how you found things when you
reached the wagons; "
148 THE UTE WAR.
The Captain was surprised, but narrated the facts
as stated. Ouray listened a moment and, grimly
smiling, said :
" Yes, you reached the wagons at such a time and
you found Utes around the wagons eating fruit. I
know all about it. Ouray not a fool. I had good
and true Indians in the mountains around the wagons.
They look down and see bad Indians, and then when
wagons start safely the good Indians run back to
Ouray on fast horses ^nd tell Ouray, and Ouray make
up his mind about it. Bad Ute can't fool Ouray. "
The chief said this in broken English to the Cap
tain, but when he spoke to Mr. Pollock he conversed
in eloquent and melodious Spanish, for he had been
educated among the Spanish Mexicans of Taos, down
on the border, and his words are always delivered
with great fluency.
Ralph Meeker, son of the Agent, Inspector Pollock
and Dr. J. H. Lacy, the agency physician, came down
to meet the ladies within a few minutes after their ar
rival. Ralph Meeker's meeting with his mother and
sister was exceedingly affecting, Mrs. Meeker giving
way entirely to her emotion.
They were well treated at Ouray's house. It had
Brussels carpet, window curtains, stoves, good beds,
glass windows, spittoons, rocking chairs, camp stools,
mirrors and an elegantly carved bureau. They were
received as old and long-lost friends. Ouray 's wife,
Chapeta, wept for their hardships, and her motherly
face, dusky, but beautiful with sweetness and compas
sion, was wet with tears. They left her crying. *
From this point the party, now headed by Ralph
Meeker, took the United States mail coaches, with
fleet horses and expert drivers. The journey, over
lofty mountains for three days and one night, brought
them out of the San Juan country to the swiftly flow-
THE UTE WAR. 149
ing Rio Grande. The Indian reservation was seventy
miles behind them. Two ranges of mountains lay
between them and that land of captivity and terror.
They could not forget the noble Ouray and his true
friends who lived there, yet it made their tired hearts
beat rapturously when they saw the steam cars at
Alamosa.
At Alamosa they remained two days, the guests of
Judge C. D. Hayt. Coming on to Denver, they re
mained two days, and then passed on to Greeley.
They were received everywhere most cordially, and
were welcomed back in words of love and warmest
greeting.
******
It may be added that the captives are rapidly re
covering from the bad effects of their trying experi
ences. Mrs. Meeker and Mrs. Price and her babies
are at home at Greeley, and Miss Josephine has begun
a lecture tour which promises to yield her a rich
harvest. She relates her thrilling story in plain, but
strong language. Up to this time she has lectured
once in Greeley and twice in Leadville. At the latter
place she was rapturously received, and after the close
of her first lecture the following series of resolutions,
offered by Lieutenant Governor Tabor, were adopted
by a unanimous and rising vote:
WHEREAS, The citizens of Leadville have assembled
this evening to listen to the recital of the foul murder
committed on one of the leading citizens of the State
at the White River Agency ; and
WHEREAS, These Utes occupy the finest and richest
portion of Colorado, and utterly refuse to cultivate the
soil and allow others to do so,
- Resolved, That the whole so-called Ute Reservation
is not worth the life of their best friend, whom they
so foully massacred on the 2Qth of September.
I5O THE UTE WAR.
Resolved, That we condemn the Indian policy of
the United States government, in allowing our citizens
to be murdered by the Indian fiends.
Resolved, That the Ute Indians must and shall be
removed outside the border of our State, or that it
will, be our duty to make them peaceable Indians.
Resolved, That we heartily applaud the resolution
and courage of Miss Josephine Meeker in telling the
story of the outrages and sufferings endured by her
self, her family and associates, and we commend her
to the friendship and courtesies of those who desire
to know the true inwardness and want of principle of
the noble red man.
CHAPTER XIII.
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES — MAJOR THORNBURGH'S LIFE AND
DEATH SKETCH OF LIEUTENANT WEIR FATHER
MEEKER AND HIS FAMILY THE INDIAN CHIEFS —
OURAY'S CAREER — KILLING OF OSEPAH — COJOE'S CON
DUCT — INTERESTING STORY OF JACK'S LIFE DR.
JOHNSON'S BRAVERY — DOUGLASS'S MEANNESS — BILLY —
PI AH — WASHINGTON — COLOROW.
A few words, we are sure, in regard to the careers
of those who have figured in this history, will be ac
ceptable to the reader, and render the book all the
more complete.
First, as regards Agent Meeker: The annals of
Indian crime do not contain mention of a darker deed
than the murder of Hon. Nathan C. Meeker — Father
Meeker, as he was called throughout Colorado, a
name which had taught many who had never seen
him to love him. In the death of Father Meeker, a
good man has passed away. He was kind and good
to all, and to none more than to the Indians. When
Mr. Meeker was appointed Agent at White River the
Indians were really suffering for want of the food and
clothing which the government had failed to furnish
them. Some of the preceding Agents had utterly
neglected their business. The new Agent went to
work with his accustomed energy, and with that dis
play of conscientiousness which characterized him in
all his undertakings and in all of his dealings with his
, fellow-beings, to make the agency satisfactory both to
the government and the Indians. He labored ever so
hard, and pursued an honest, even course.
152 THE UTE WAR.
Mr. Meeker was about sixty-four years old. He
was born in Euclid, Ohio, near Cleveland. The place
is now known as Callamer. At an early age he began
to write poems and stories for the magazines. When
he was still in his boyhood he traveled on foot most
of the way to New Orleans, where he arrived without
money or letters of recommendation. He succeeded
in getting work on the local staff of one of the city
papers, which barely gave him a living. In a year or
two he returned to Cleveland, and taught school until
he could earn enough to pay his way to New York,
whither he went with the friendship of George D.
Prentice, whom he had met during his southern
travels. In New York he was encouraged by N. P.
Willis, and he contributed poems and sketches regu
larly to the New York Mirror, a literary journal
edited by Willis, and .which attracted considerable at
tention from good writers of that day. The young
man's style was quaint and somewhat melancholy,
and his poems were copied, but he could scarcely
earn bread to eat and his sufferings were so great that
he abandoned poetry for the rest of his life. He
managed to raise money enough to enable him to
proceed on foot to Pennsylvania, where he taught
school and continued his literary studies. Afterward
he returned to Ohio, and in 1844, when about thirty
years old, married the daughter of Mr. Smith, a
retired sea captain, at Claridon, and took his bride to
what was known as the Trumbull Phalanx, which was
just being organized at Braceville, near Warren, Ohio.
The society was a branch of the Brook Farm and the
North American Phalanx, of which Hawthorne, Cur
tis and Greeley were leading members. The Ohio
Phalanx was composed of .young and ardent admirers
of Fourier, the socialist. There was no free love, but
the members lived in a village, dined at common
THE UTE WAR. 153
tables, dwelt in separate cottages and worked in the
community fields together, and allowed the proceeds
of all their earnings to go into a common fund.
Manufactories were established, the soil was fertile,
and prosperity would have followed/had all the mem
bers been honest and the climate healthful. Fever
and ague ran riot with the weeds, and the most
selfish and avaricious of the Arcadian band began to
absorb what really belonged to the weaker ones, who
did most of the hard labor. Mr. Meeker, who was
one of the chief workers, was glad to get away alive
with his wife and two boys, the youngest of whom
was born shaking with the ague. Mr. Meeker was
the librarian and chief literary authority of the com
munity, but he lost most of his books, and when he
reached his Cleveland home he had but a few dollars.
In company with his brothers he opened a small store
and began business on a " worldly " basis ; and he
prospered so that he was invited to join another com
munity, the disciples and followers of Alexander
Campbell, a Scotch-Irishman, the founder of the reli
gious sect the members of which, are sometimes
called " Campbellites." General Garfield is a follower
of this faith, and he became a fellow townsman of
Mr. Meeker. The " disciples " were building a large
college at Hiram, Ohio, and Mr. Meeker moved his
store thither and received the patronage of the school
and church. While there he wrote a book called
"The Adventures of Captain Armstrong." In 1856,
when the great panic came, he lost nearly everything.
Then he moved to southern Illinois, and, with the
remnants of his goods, opened a small store near
Dongola, in Union county. For several years his
boys " ran " the store, while he worked a small farm
and devoted his spare hours to literature. His cor
respondence with the Cleveland Plaindealer attracted
154 THE UTE WAR.
the attention of Artemus Ward, and the result was a
warm and personal friendship. When the war broke
out he wrote a letter to the Tribune on the southwest
ern political leaders and the resources of the Missis
sippi Valley. Horace Greeley telegraphed to A. D.
Richardson, who was in charge of the Tribune at
Cairo, this dispatch :
" Meeker is the man we want."
Sidney Howard Gay engaged him, and, after serving
as a war correspondent at Fort Donelson and other
places, at the close of the war Mr. Meeker was called
to New York to take charge of the agricultural de
partment and do general editorial work on the Tribune.
He wrote a book entitled " Life in the West," and his
articles on the Oneida Community were copied into
leading German, French and other European journals.
In 1869 he was sent to write up the Mormons, but
finding the roads beyond Cheyenne blockaded with
snow he turned southward and followed the Rocky
Mountains down to the foot of Pike's Peak, where he
was so charmed with the Garden of the Gods and the
unsurpassed scenery of that lovely region, where
birds were singing and grasses growing in the moun
tains, that he said if he could persuade a dozen
families to go thither he would take his wife and girls
to live and die there. Mr. Greeley was dining at the
Delmonico when he heard of it.
"Tell Meeker," exclaimed he, "to go ahead. I
will back him with the Tribune. "
A letter was printed, a meeting held, subscriptions
invited, and $96,000 were forwarded to the treasurer
immediately. Mr. Meeker was elected president of
the colony and Horace Greeley made treasurer. So
many applications were sent in that it was thought a
larger tract of land would be needed than seemed to
be free from incumbrance at Pike's Peak. Several
THE UTE WAR. 155
miles square of land were bought on the Cache-la-
Poudre River, where the town of Greeley now stands,
and several hundred families were established in what
had been styled " The Great American Desert. "
Horace Greeley's one exhortation was :
" Tell Meeker to have no fences nor rum. "
On this basis the colony was founded. To-day
Greeley has 3,000 population, a hundred miles of irri
gating canals, a fine graded school, and it is the capi
tal of a county 160 miles long.
He was one of Colorado's Commissioners to the
Centennial Exposition, and soon after Mr. Hayes be
came President, Mr. Meeker was appointed Agent at
White River. Mr. Meeker's plan was to have the
Indians raise crops and support themselves in an im
proved way. He encouraged them to live in log
houses, and have some of the miscellaneous conven
iences of civilization. It was an experiment and had
worked well until the beginning of the past season.
A large and effective irrigating canal was built by the
Indians, and many acres ploughed by these red farm
ers. One of the bands favored this new system, and
their chief helped to make peace at the first outbreak.
More real agricultural work was accomplished at this
agency than at any of the others. The ploughing
was done for the benefit of the agency and for the
Indians, and not for the Agent, as has been reported.
Speaking of appearances at the agency under Mr.
Meeker's management, Mr. R. D. Coxe, who visited
the place just previous to the outbreak, says:
" The agency had been moved since any of the
party had been there, and as we came in sight of it,
it presented a pretty picture to our eyes. The White
River valley at the agency is some half or three-
quarters of a mile in width, and is splendidly adapted
to agriculture, as well by the ease with which it can
156 THE UTE WAR.
be irrigated as by the natural qualities of the soil.
Facing the agency buildings, under fence, was a field
of fifty acres, in which were growing corn and garden
truck, and from which a good crop of wheat had been
harvested. Around were the signs of a practical
farmer, and under the sheds of the agency were the
latest improvements in agricultural implements. Here,
thought I, is the model farmer. Another generation
will find our dusky neighbors tilling their ranches and
pursuing the peaceful avocations of civilization, and
the blessing will, rest upon the head of N. C. Meeker.
But a herd of horses skirted the fenced field, and it
seemed to me they looked with jealous eye upon the
growing crops. On the hills upon the other side of
the river were large herds of cattle, and everything
.looked pastoral and quiet.
" It needed no introduction to tell us that the tall,
angular, grey-headed man who welcomed us to the
agency was Father Meeker. To look at him was to
see the plows, and harrows and fence wire. He told
us to unsaddle at the corral, and after an eight hours'
ride over a rough trail, we were not unwilling to
do so."
Mr. Meeker went to the White River Agency with
his wife and youngest daughter, Josephine, who
taught the young Indians and was a general favorite.
Mr. William H. Post, of Yonkers, was his "boss
farmer" and general assistant. Mr. Post had been a
competent and very popular Secretary of the Greeley
Colony. He was at the agency at the time of the
outbreak.
Mrs. Meeker is sixty-four years old, with black
hair, now partly tinged with gray, and blue eyes.
She is small in stature, her weight being only ninety
pounds. She is the daughter of a sea captain, and
was born in Cheshire, Connecticut. She moved with
THE UTE WAR. 157
her parents, when a child, to the Western Reserve in
Ohio, when the country was a wilderness, and was
reared as a pioneer's daughter, with many sisters and
brothers. She taught school for several years, and
was married at the age of twenty-nine to N. C.
Meeker, in Clariden, Geauga county, Ohio. She is
the mother of five children.
Miss Josephine Meeker is twenty-two years of age,
a blonde, with blue eyes and light hair, and is tall in
stature and vivacious in manner and conversation.
She was a teacher at the agency and a great favorite
among the Indians. She taught the boy of Chief
Douglass, and had half a dozen offers of marriage
from the Ute braves.
Mrs. Meeker is one of the gentlest and most moth
erly women, with a heart large enough to embrace all
humanity. Her kindly disposition and gentle manner
should have protected her from the assault of the
veriest brute.
' Miss Josie seems to have inherited much of the
force and enthusiasm of her father. She appears to
have overcome the feeling of disgust, which savages
must inspire in any lady, and to have entered on her
duty of teaching with the highest missionary spirit.
Around this family were gathered, as help, people
peculiarly genial and calculated to win by kindness
the regard of the Utes, and whose names have already
been published. It may here be stated that the
Christian name of Mr. Thompson, which has not yet
been given, was Arthur. He was a son of one of the
leading citizens of Greeley. The agency was well
cared for. Comfortable buildings were erected and
fine avenues were laid out. One of these, the main
street, which ran as straight as a line from the canon
to the agency, was named after Chief Douglass. Mr.
Meeker was preparing to plant mountain evergreens
158 THE UTE WAR.
on both sides of it. The government Indian farm
was enclosed with a neat wire fence, and it produced
all kinds of crops. The Indians until the mutiny
helped to cultivate the soil. They raised potatoes,
beets, turnips, and other vegetables. The white em
ployes planted the wheat. In the agency yard Mrs.
Meeker had some flowers, such as verbenas, mign
onette, petunias and others of a more common sort.
The Indians seemed to like the improvements, and
they admired the flowers. On ration days their chil
dren were to be seen with bunches of flowers in their
hands. A large irrigating canal was built by the In
dians under the Agent's direction. It afforded water
for the whole valley. A good table was set for the
employes, and they were only charged $3.50 per
week, which is much less than is charged at the other
agencies, where it is $4.00 and $5.00. The best pro
visions were used and bought at Rawlins. Mr.
Meeker refused to have any Indian blankets or Indian
goods in the house, so as to be free from all irregu
larities or charges of corruption. The Indians fre
quently ate at his private table, and the chiefs came
and went when they pleased. They were treated
kindly, but not allowed to take charge of the place, as
they sometimes wanted to do.
Among the losses sustained by our troops in the
Milk River fight, the most serious was the death of
that veteran Indian fighter Major Thomas T. Thorn-
burgh, of the Fourth Infantry. This gallant officer
was born in Tennessee, from which State he enlisted
as a private in the Sixth Tennessee Regiment of
Volunteers in September, 1861. He was in the ser
vice from that time until August, 1863. During this
term he served for the first five months as a private,
for two months as Sergeant- Major, and for the re
mainder of his term in the service as Lieutenant and
THE UTE WAR. 1 59
Adjutant. He took part in the battle of Mill Springs,
was with our army when General Morgan made his
celebrated retreat from Cumberland Gap to the Ohio
River, and participated in the battle of Stone River,
September ist. He was entered at the United States
Military Academy of West Point, and was one of the
class of '63 graduates from there June 17, 1867. He
was commissioned Second Lieutenant in the Second
Artillery, June 17, 1867. After three years' service
upon the Pacific and Atlantic coasts, he was regularly
promoted, Aprjl 21, 1870, and as First Lieutenant of
Artillery was appointed Major and Paymaster, April
26, 1875. In this capacity he served upon the staff
of Brigadier-General George Crook, with station at
Omaha; but tiring of the inactivity of the life, he
sought and effected an exchange with Major G. H.
Thomas, Fourth Infantry, May 23, 1878. By this
transfer Major Thornburgh stepped above no less
than two hundred and fifty captains of infantry and
many lieutenants of that corps, whose original com
missions antedated his, and procured the command of
Fort Fred Steele, in Wyoming Territory.
In the fall of 1878 he was placed in charge of the
troops assembled at Sidney, Nebraska, to intercept
the Cheyennes. The latter crossed the Union Pacific
Railroad near Julesburg, and a few hours later,
having been conveyed to this point by a special train,
Thornburgh's column was in hot pursuit. The
Cheyennes forded the treacherous Platte, with whose
shifting quicksands they were familiar, and took
refuge for the night in an adjacent canon. Thorn-
burgh followed, but his preparations for an immediate
attack were foiled by a dense fog, which rose from
the river and enveloped it. In the early morning
smouldering fires revealed their late proximity, but
the Cheyennes had dispersed. Their trail led fan-
l6o THE UTE WAR.
shaped into and through the dreaded sand hills.
Thornburgh followed, and during the day accom
plished not less than eighty miles. For forty-eight
hours he wandered through this terrible waste, and
was only relieved from extreme hunger and thirst by
the timely arrival of Major C. H. Carlton, Third Cav
alry, and a battalion of that regiment. By many his
failure was attributed to excess of caution, but per
haps he only avoided then the disaster that has so re
cently overwhelmed his command. Major Thorn-
burgh was shot in the breast and instantly killed. He
was a man of splendid physique, and if not a brilliant
soldier, a very earnest, brave, ambitious, and conscien
tious officer, and a genial, whole-souled gentleman.
He was an excellent horseman, and the finest shot in the
army. He hunted prairie chicken and grouse with an
ordinary Springfield rifle. When Dr. Carver made
his superb score with glass balls at Omaha, Major
Thornburgh, at the solicitation of his numerous
friends, followed and almost equalled it. Immediate
ly subsequent to the fruitless chase after the Chey-
ennes, a council was held with Red Cloud, Young-
man-afraid-of-his-horses, and other prominent Sioux
chiefs at Fort Sheridan. At its termination the In
dians were in an unusually amiable mood, and face
tiously compared the battered carbines in the hands
of our cavalrymen to their own handsomely mounted
Winchesters. Major Thornburgh, seizing at random
one of the former arms from a soldier, challenged the
group of dusky boasters to a trial of their vaunted
weapons. Silver half and quarter dollars thrown into
the air, or even nickels, were rarely missed ; and the
coins being too soon exhausted, they insisted on
tempting his unerring aim with potatoes, which,
although they grow particularly small in the rugged
northwest, he invariably cleft in their flight. The
THE UTE WAR. l6l
braves stood aghast at such wonderful dexterity, and
conferred upon him a euphonious sobriquet in their
own language, meaning " The-chief-who-shoots-the-
stars. "
Major Thornburgh was a brother of the ex-Con
gressman of that name from Tennessee. He leaves a
wife (daughter of Major R. D. Clark, paymaster, and
niece of Pay master- General Alvord, U. S. A.) and
two children, a boy and a girl, who are now at
Omaha, where his remains were buried with becoming
ceremonies.
Lieutenant Weir, who was killed south of White
River, was the younger son of Robert W. Weir, a cele
brated painter and for many years professor of draw
ing, etc., at West Point. The latter retired with the
pay of Colonel July 25, 1876, being then over sixty-
two years of age. The Lieutenant's elder brother, an
artist, now in Europe, has won a reputation equal to
his sire's. Lieutenant Weir was hardly thirty years
old. He had a fair face, gray eyes, a light mustache,
light brown hair, a pleasant smile, a gentle manner
and a cheerful disposition, and he is bewailed by so
many of his acquaintances among the troops at Raw-
lins as to indicate a general grief at his fate. Lieuten
ant Weir was a native of New York and a graduate of
the West Point Military Academy, which he entered
as a cadet July I, 1866. He was appointed a Second
Lieutenant in the Fifth Artillery, but was transferred
to the Ordnance Department November I, 1874, re
ceiving a commission of First Lieutenant.
Of the Indians, the greatest interest centers in
Ouray (pronounced U-ra), the head chief or king of
the Utes, who has come prominently before the coun
try during the time covered by this history and who
was, by no means, unknown before. He is, in many
II
1 62 THE UTE WAR.
respects — indeed, we may say in all respects — a re
markable Indian; a man of pure instincts, of keen
perception, and apparently possesses very proper ideas
of justice and right — the friend of the white man
and the protector of the Indian, ever standing up and
boldly asserting the rights of his tribe, and as contin
ually doing all in his power to create favor for the
white man with the Indians.
Ouray, in telling the story of his life, says that he
was born in Taos Valley, N. M., near the Pueblo village
of that name, in 1839, His tribe of Utes were in the
habit of spending much of their time in the Taos
Valley, and San Luis Park, and along the Sangre de
Cristo Mountains. Down in this region they were
accustomed to meet the Apaches, who came up from
the north. It is a very common thing for the women
of a tribe of Indians to marry out of their tribe.
Ouray's father married an Apache woman ; hence the
epithet which is so often sneeringly applied to Ouray
by those of the Indians who dislike him, of being an
"Apache papoose." The Indians became so accus
tomed to associating with the Mexicans that some of
them began to adopt the customs of this people, and
when Ouray's father and mother came to the conclu
sion that they wanted to be married, they quietly
marched .up to the little adobe church which stands on
the hill, in the village at Red River crossing, and had
the priest perform the ceremony, just as any good
Catholics would. And when Ouray was born, they
took him to the same adobe building and had him
baptized into the Catholic Church — the only instance
on record of the kincj.
Ouray had three brothers and two sisters, but he sur
vives all of his brothers, while both of his sisters still
live, one of them near the home of the chief on the
Uncompahgre and the other is Susan, the wife of Chief
THE UTE WAR.
163
Johnson, of the White River Tribe, who so signally
distinguished herself in her kindness to the Meeker
women and Mrs. Price while they were captives among
the tribe.
Ouray has long been a chief among the Utes, but
is more renowned for his wisdom than his bravery.
During his young manhood, however, he was accus
tomed to lead the Ute braves to battle and was a very
(Head Chief of
the Utes.)
brave as well as successful fighter. He generally
planned well and fought bravely. During these times
the Utes were engaged in a deadly encounter with the
Arapahoes, Cheyennes and Sioux. It was a war be
tween the plains Indians and the mountain tribes, be
tween Highlanders and Lowlanders. Ouray entered
into the spirit which characterized his race with a will,
and soon became a renowned warrior. He soon was
164 THE UTE WAR.
famed for wisdom, and his counsel was sought by the
Utes far and near. When the white men first began
to settle what is now Colorado, they found Ouray
chief of the Tabequache or Uncompahgre tribe, the
largest band of the tribe and in great favor with the
members of other bands, so that while he was not
head chief, he was a man of the greatest influence
and power among his people. He was also disposed
to be friendly towards the white settlers and soon be
came known as a mediator between the two races.
He continued increasing his authority and influence
among his people until, as he expresses it, " the year
after Lincoln's death," he was recognized as head chief
by the Indians. In 1873 ^e acted as interpreter be
tween the Indians and Commissioner Brunot, in the
conference looking to the cession to the government
of the San Juan country, and in recognition of his
services at that time and in the past, the government
settled an annuity of $1,000 upon him, which he has
since continued to draw regularly. He made his first
trip to Washington during the same year that he was
made head chief.
The Utes have had five wars with the Arapahoes,
and Ouray states that during some of these he led as
many as seven hundred warriors to the battle-field.
The second war occurred about 1858, and some of
the battles were fought just above where Denver
stands. Ouray had but thirty men with him, while
the Arapahoes numbered seven hundred. They came
upon the Utes in the morning, just before daylight,
and took the mountain Indians completely by sur
prise. However, Ouray rallied his few warriors, and
they hurriedly formed in a square, after retreating a
short distance, and after a fight which continued four
teen hours, repulsed the Arapahoes.
It was during this fight that Ouray lost his little
THE UTE WAR. 165
boy — the only son that has been born to him.
He says that when he saw the Arapahoes coming, he
threw water in the face of the child, then six years of
age, for the purpose of awaking him, but failing in
this, he threw covering over him and left him to go
and fight the invaders of the camp. But the entire
day passed before he could extricate himself from the
entanglements involving him, and when he did get
away and have an opportunity to return to his tepee,
his boy had disappeared and has never since been
seen by his father. This incident is still vividly re
membered by Ouray, and he never refers to it without
manifesting the greatest sorrow over it. He professes
to believe his boy is dead, though he knows he is not.
He is still with the Arapahoes, and as Ouray heartily
despises the Arapahoes, he would prefer the death of
his son to the disgrace implied in being an Arapahoe.
This feeling on his part most likely explains the rep
resentation of the matter as made by the old chief.
Ouray has never been able to get his boy back, though
he has made every effort to recover him. The gov
ernment, too, has done all in its power to restore
Ouray's son to him. Mr. Brunot himself made a
strong effort. But the boy declines to go back, or to
be talked to upon the subject. It seems that he has
imbibed Arapahoe ideas, and that he utterly despises
the Utes. This is really what most hurts old Ouray.
His family pride is injured. He thinks his son has
been utterly disgraced. The boy is a good-looking
Indian. He is now about thirty years old. He has
been adopted by Chief Friday, and, it is said, stands
a good show of becoming chief, whenever that re
nowned warrior shall "cross the range."
Ouray has lived at his present home on the Un-
compahgre and in that vicinity during the past
twenty-three years, having resided, previous to estab*
1 66 THE UTE WAR.
lishing himself at that point, in New Mexico. Cho-
peta, his present wife, is his second, his first having
been the mother of his boy and also of a girl child,
now dead. Ouray lives in good style. He owns a
farm, which is a real garden spot, of three hundred
acres. Of this he cultivates about a hundred acres,
raising all kinds of cereals and vegetables. He lives
in a neatly built and commodious adobe house built
for him by the government and neatly furnished and
carpeted. He owns great numbers of horses and a
good many cattle and sheep, and. when he goes out
rides in a carriage which was a present from ex-
Governor McCook. He hires laborers from among
the Mexicans and Indians, and also expects his wife
to do her share of the farm work. Ouray 's present
wife, Chopeta, is kind-hearted and very much like
Ouray in her nature, being kind and well disposed
towards the whites. The Chief has become very
much attached to his present manner of living, and it
is said is disposed to remain on his farm and surren
der the reins of government to some younger man.
Speaking before the Commission, of which he is a
member, now investigating the present trouble, at Los
Pinos, on the i6th of November of the present year
he said :
" I do not want to be a chief. I grow old and am
tottering. Let some young man with the fire of
youth in his veins take my place. I have my farm,
which I would rather cultivate and watch the seed
planted by me grow up to maturity than to be head
chief. They all come to me with their troubles. I
know everything and have all their burdens to bear.
Washington no want me to give up my position,
wants me to stay and govern Utes. I want only to
be. known as Ouray,, the friend of the white man."
So far as the present difficulty is concerned, Ouray
THE UTE WAR. 1 67
has continued from first to last friendly to the whites
and an advocate of peace. As soon as he learned of
the Thornburgh fight he sent runners to White River
ordering that hostilities cease. He also did every
thing in his power to secure the surrender of the cap
tive women, and when there was a prospect of the
southern Utes breaking out, he sent timely warning
to the white settlers near. He has pursued a straight
forward and manly course and deserved the honor
which the government conferred upon him in making
him a member of the Commission.
Although baptized into the Catholic Church, Ouray
does not profess the white man's religion. Senough-
Ibase is the Ute god, and in him Ouray believes. He
says that when good people die they will go to a
delightful place like a beautiful valley, with a clear
stream of water running in it, there to meet with the
friends and the spirits of friends who have gone
before. They will all meet there — friends, brothers
and parents. He speaks with much tenderness of his
father and mother. He also believes there is a bad
place where bad people cannot meet their friends who
have preceded them.
One little instance may be related as going to show
the character of Ouray and the manner of his dealing
with his inferiors. Since he became head chief he
has promoted Sapavanaro, Shavano, Waro and Billy
to chieftainships under himself among the Uncom-
pahgre Utes. He has made Ignacio head chief of
the Southern Utes, and Pavisatch second chief of the
Southern Utes. As is often the case with people
making greater pretensions to civilization, most of
these fellows scorn the hand that feeds them. Ignacio
has grown unfriendly to Ouray, and Waro and Billy
seem to have deserted him for the White River Utes.
Cojoe, who has figured extensively in this narrative
1 68 THE UTE WAR.
already, was in favor at Ouray's court at one time,
being the chief medicine man of the Tabequache
tribe. He, and not Ouray, as has frequently been as
serted, was the man who killed the young brave
Osepah, during the summer of 1878. Osepahwasan
ambitious young man, and was working hard to secure
the coveted prize, a chieftainship. He saw that a
number of the tribe were displeased with the farming
operations of Ouray, and his notorious friendship to
the whites, and thought that by making himself the
mouthpiece of the tribe, he would acquire great re
nown and their admiration. Consequently, he rode
to Ouray's house, meeting the chief on his way to
the agency. Cojoe had just come in from a hunt, and
with his rifle slung on his shoulder, was accompany
ing Ouray. Osepah stopped them, and dismounting
from his horse, laid before Ouray the fact that he was
wanted no longer as their chief; that he was a white
man at heart, and ought to join the whites, concluding
with a perfect tirade of abuse, in which he called the
chief " a squaw," the most degrading epithet that can
be applied to an Indian, and one which he is generally
quickest to resent. Ouray took no notice of the
speech, regarding it as the insane utterances of a hot
headed young man; but not so Cojoe. Waiting until
Osepah had mounted his horse and ridden several rods
away, he unslung his rifle, took deliberate aim, and
Osepah fell dead with a bullet through his brain. For
this offense Cojoe was expelled by Ouray from the
tribe and went to White River, most probably being
concerned in the murder of the employes there. He
now is arrayed in a dresscoat, with two gold chains
dangling from his pocket. Ouray says that he will
never again return to the agency, his conduct having
given him more trouble than that of all the rest of his
Indians.
THE UTE WAR. 169
Captain Billy has generally professed friendship for
the whites, though he has been a great deal among
the White River Utes since the troubles of which we
write began. He paid a visit to Washington in the
fall of 1878. Bill is a brother of Jack, though much
more kindly disposed. He really looks like an in
offensive Indian, but he has plenty of Indian fire in his
brain. At one time he boasted that no lead could
kill him, and when one of the tribe said he would like
to try, Bill stood up, folded his arms, and said, " Fire ! "
The bullet went through his left side below the ribs.
Bill laughed, and said, " I told you lead no kill me. "
He was laid up about two weeks, and came out all
right.
During the present disturbance Douglass and Jack,
both White River chiefs, have attracted more atten
tion than any other two Indians. They are quite in
telligent fellows, though very different in appearance,
stature, physique, temperament and manner. Doug
lass is rather short — about five feet six or seven
inches in height — of medium build, about fifty years
of age, and with a decidedly German cast of counte
nance. His complexion is rather darker than most of
his tribe. Mr. A. D. Coxe, formerly of Middle Park,
now residing in Quincy, 111., who visited White River
Agency, describes Douglass as follows :
" As we approached the corral a figure came toward
us from the direction of the river, that I gazed at with
increasing interest as it approached. Dressed in what
I should call the fall attire of a workman in the
States, I set myself to solve the problem of what
nationality. White, red or black ? Once it was a
sunburned white man, then a " nigger, " but when it
reached us the inevitable red smear betrayed it. It
was an Indian, and, moreover, an Indian who spoke
respectable English. There was something I should
I/O THE UTE WAR.
describe as a reserved force in his manner (not matter)
of speaking. Our conversation was trivial. I had
put my estimate on him, and it was that he had
grown civilized enough to doff the blanket (emblem
of the aboriginee) and to become generally no ac
count. Imagine my surprise when the sheriff turned
to me and told me our visitor was Douglass. I had
expected to find the great chief in a mud palace, ex
acting the reverence .and homage of all comers. In
stead, he is an Indian who would be taken for a res
pectable negro church sexton in Kentucky, and he
keeps up the likeness by his grave reticence and res
pectful curiosity as to what our mission is. Douglass
is about five feet seven inches in height, medium
stature and outrageously bow-legged. The most
noticeable thing about him is that he shaves, but
manages to escape an iron-gray growth of moustache
on the sides of his mouth in that operation. In his
dress he made no pretence to the gaudy — was satis
fied with the substantial."
Douglass was made a chief among the White River
Utes in 1869, and been considered a friend of the
whites. He has ever professed the warmest regard
for his pale face brothers, and when Agent Meeker
first went to White River was among the first to man
ifest a friendly feeling towards the old gentleman.
He sent his boy to school when Miss Josephine estab
lished her institution for teaching the young Indian
how not to shoot, and seemed in every way satisfied
with his lot and surroundings. But it now appears
that he has all this time been merely simulating
friendship, and that all the while he has harbored a
deep-rooted feeling against the Americans. His treat
ment of Mrs. Meeker and her daughter, the part he
took in the massacre and his confessions to Mrs.
Price are proof positive of his bad feeling. It has also
THE UTE WAR. . I/I
been recently charged that he took a prominent part
in the Mountain Meadow massacre. The Indians
themselves assert that he did, but Douglass when
questioned concerning this accusation replied :
" No ; me no fight. Me no chief then ; papers
heap lies."
Even to the most unobservant, he displayed great
agitation, which, in an Indian, is extremely uncom
mon, while speaking, and it would not be at all sur
prising, if the facts can be obtained, that this maltreater
of helpless women and coward as well, should prove
to have been concerned in this massacre. Mrs. Price's
characterization of him as "the smartest and meanest
of the Utes " may be classified as accurate.
Ouray being asked about Douglass could not be
brought to tell much of the history of this chief, say
ing that Douglass was not a very brave man, but great
in the council. His speeches are always eloquent,
generally to the point, and always convincing.
Through his tongue, he has acquired about the same
influence over his band that Jack has through his
bravery, and when a question is hanging in suspense
in one of the Ute councils, that voice turns the bal
ance. He speaks English very imperfectly, but
appears to be good natured, though decidedly taci
turn and thoughtful. Even to his own people he says
little, and what he says is in a low tone and in short
paragraphs. He impresses one as having considerable
ability, though not as being as intelligent as Jack.
This, however, may be due to the different manner of
his Lieutenant, and the fact that the latter has traveled
as far east as Boston, while Douglass has never crossed
the Missouri.
Jack is far more the typical Indian than his leader.
Some five feet ten or eleven inches in height, straight
and slender, but strong and sinewy. He has a narrow
172 . THE UTE WAR.
forehead, prominent, hooked nose, protruding cheek
bones, large, black eyes and an immense mouth. His
complexion is that of a bright mulatto. His straight
black hair falls is profusion over his shoulders and he
wears large hoop earrings and a silver medal about
three inches in diameter, which was presented to him
by the government and of which he is very proud.
One edge of it is deeply indented, he says, by a
bullet fired at him by Piah. His eyes flash when he
speaks of this little experience, and he suggests a pur
pose of returning the compliment whenever a suitable
opportunity shall offer. Another article which he
particularly prizes is a pipe of polished red stone,
which he says was captured from the Sioux. He car
ries it in an ornamented buckskin case and cleans it
with the utmost tenderness every time it is smoked.
He usually dresses in a complete suit of buckskin,
but wears a black slouch hat. He is something of a
dandy and had a good deal of ornamental work on
his clothing as well as on his pipe and gun cases
embroidered with colored porcupine quills and beads.
He is generally armed, even in time of peace, with a
first-rate Winchester rifle and his belt is full of cart
ridges. His pose and manner are dignified and grace
ful, and he is exceedingly jovial in disposition; though
a serious, thoughtful look comes into his eyes when
he is at business. He knows more of the world than
his fellows, and consequently respects and fears the
whites more. He talks English quite well and likes
to talk.
"Jack," Ouray says, "was always a brave man.
When he was a boy he was taken by a white family
to Salt Lake City, as a sort of page, and was petted
greatly by them. He resided there about a year, and
probably learned what English he knows at that time.
Being taken to task by his mistress one day about
THE UTE WAR. 1/3
some trivial offence, Jack then threw a knife at her,
cutting her severely in the head, and started for Col
orado. He has had two duels with members of his
own tribe, and in each came off victorious, in the last
one, after disabling his opponent by a stab, lassooing
him and dragging him at his horse's tail until nothing
was left save a mangled mass of flesh. The Utes all
know of Jack's bravery, and know his great influence
over his band. " Said Ouray, " Jack will fight three
white men ; but he no hide and shoot them when they
come past. When Jack say to white man, ' You my
friend, ' all right. When he say, ' You no stay here, '
white man better go. "
Previous to this present outbreak Jack was consid
ered friendly to the whites. He was about Denver a
great deal, and received considerable attention from
the people here. But he objected strongly to the inno
vations which Father Meeker attempted to introduce,
and when it came time to take up arms he headed the
hostiles. Previous to this he said it was useless for
the Indians to fight the white man, for they would
certainly get the worst of it in the end. And he fully
appreciated what he said. He had witnessed the
great extent and power of our people, and seemingly
profited by what he saw. He went so far as to invite
the whites to settle on the reservation saying that
they and the Indians should be great friends.
Johnson gained his chieftainship by a daring act of
valor in the last war of the Utes with the Arapahoes.
One day their scouts having reported none of the
enemy near, Johnson, then a stripling, and two com
panions started out on a hunt. They had gone about
twenty miles from their camp when they were at
tacked by eight Arapahoes. Johnson's two friends
were killed, and he only escaped by leaving his horse
and concealing himself in a river or stream flowing
1/4 THE UTE WAR.
near. The Arapahoes took all three horses and start
ed for their camp, Johnson following them on foot.
When they camped for the night Johnson crept up,
stabbed the sentinel and the other seven, took their
scalps and horses, and returned to his friends to tell
the story. For this instance of prowess he received
the chieftainship of the band which he now com
mands. Although a brave Indian, Johnson differs
from Jack in that he will, if he can, take an unfair ad
vantage of an enemy, and should he bear one a
grudge, will not hesitate to ambuscade and shoot him.
His wife, Ouray's sister, was given to him as a further
recognition of his services against the Arapahoes.
Johnson is also the best shot among the Utes, with
both the bow and rifle, and his tepee, after a hunt,
contains more game than any of the rest. Johnson
has recently acted as chief medicine man at White
River, and he figures in Mr. Meeker's letters as Dr.
Johnson. He is about forty-five.
The next most noted of the hostile chiefs is Colo
rado, pronounced and generally spelled Colorow. He
is a bully and a coward, and commands the loathing
and the disrespect of both white man and Indian.
He is a renegade among the White River Utes, and
at one time had attained considerable influence among
this band, rising to the chieftainship of a quite re
spectable number. But he was deposed from power,
for which result ex-Governor McCook is highly re
sponsible. Formerly, the State government was made
in some way responsible for the care of the Indians.
During McCook's administration, Colorow and a band
of Utes came to this city and camped on the out
skirts. One day the chief sent word that he wanted
a new tent. McCook dispatched an agent to see in
what condition Colorow's tent was, and the report was
that he did not need a new tent, and McCook accord-
THE UTE WAR.
175
ingly refused him. In the afternoon, while the Gov
ernor was in his office, Colorow came in half drunk,
with a revolver in his hand, and came over where
McCook was writing and sat down. The Governor
took in the situation at a glance, but did not look up.
"McCook, liar!" said Colorow.
The Governor went on writing.
" McCook, dam liar!" said the chief.
Still McCook continued. with his work.
" McCook, heap d — m liar!" said Colorow, reach
ing a climax.
Nevertheless, McCook would not look at him.
COLOROW.
By this time Colorow had concluded that there was
no fight in the Governor and allowed the hand con
taining the revolver to drop to his side. The move
was a fatal one. In an instant McCook seized his
wrist, knocked the weapon away from him, and, catch
ing the astonished Indian by the neck, kicked him
176 THE UTE WAR.
down stairs and out into the street, where there were
a number of Utes standing about. With great tact
McCook pointed to the prostrate and humiliated form
of Colorow, and turning to the Utes, said: "No man
to lead braves. Colorow old woman. Get a man
for a chief." Then turning on his heel, he walked up
stairs. The next day the mortified Utes deposed
Colorow.
Colorow still, however, boasts a considerable fol
lowing among the worst of the Utes, if such a distinc
tion is allowable. He is old and chubby, and pre
sents the worst appearance of all the tribe.
Piah is the chief of the Middle Park Utes. He is
a clever fellow enough, but very deceitful. He has
been to Washington, New York and Boston, as have
some of the others. Piah says he got shaved in
Washington, which accounts for the few hairs on his
chin, of which he is very proud. In conversation
with him, he said, " Washington heap big, heap big
houses ; New York heap big, big houses, big boats ;
plenty white men ;" and so of other Eastern cities ;
but at the end he says, " White man heap no good,
heap lie. Indian no lie." Upon being asked what
the great white father said to him, his answer was:
" White father at Washington said Indian must make
potato, cabbage, and work. I tell white father no
make potato, cabbage, no work; Indian hunt, fish.
No hunt, no fish, Indian fight and die. Me great war
rior. Warriors no plow. Me go to Washington and
see John Grant. (The Indians all call Grant "John.")
John Grant great warrior. He no work. Me see
John Grant's squaw. She no work, either, too. Great
warriors no work. Tell you what do. You say to
John Grant he come here and go with me. We go
out and fight 'Rapahoes and Cheyennes, and kill
plenty braves, and get plenty squaws. Then squaws
THE UTE WAR. 1 77
work and me and John Grant have bully good time.
No work ; no plow ; no nothing."
Washington is another chief supposed to have been
engaged in the recent fighting — at any rate, in the
depredations committed along the frontier. He is get
ting to be an old Indian, and is remarkable for the ex
treme low cunning of his countenance and his stove
pipe hat, which has long ago seen its best days.
Describing the appearance of this chief, Mr. Coxe,
whom we have above quoted, says :
"I think that Washington is about as ugly a bipe'd
as we have at present on the continent, and what
homeliness of face he lacked, he had attempted to
supply by dress. I am not a good hand at descrip
tion of dress, but I shall endeavor to tell you how
Washington was attired. His head was surmounted
by a soft hat, turn-down rim, which was ornamented
by a band of calico. He had on a red flannel shirt,
soiled and torn, and about as poor a pair of pantaloons
as the law allows. But the leggings, the one article
of the dress of equestrians which the Indians make
better than the whites, were handsome. An old and
ragged pair of boots protected his feet. As he came
up I saw he was cross-eyed, and that the 'whites' of
his eyes had become 'browns/ as well as bloodshot."
There are, of course, many other chiefs among the
tribes, but those which we have described are the
most noted, and most of them have taken prominent
part in the late outbreak.
• 12
CONCLUSION.
It remains to be stated that at the present writing,
November 25, 1879, there is a commission in the field,
appointed by the Secretary of the Interior, the Hon.
Carl Schurz, to investigate the recent troubles with a
view to bringing the guilty to justice and arriving at
some means of settling the Indian difficulties in Col
orado. This commission consists of General Edward
Hatch, of the army; General Charles Adams, special
agent of the postoffice department, and Chief Ouray.
The meetings of the commission are held in a log
hut, built for a stable, at Los Pinos, or Uncompahgre
Agency. Ouray early sent a message to the hostile
Indians, ordering them to meet the commission at his
agency. All the leaders except Jack came to the
agency. Douglass, Johnson, and Sewerwick were
examined, and all appeared before the commission
with sullen countenances, "armed to the teeth," and
all declared unequivocally that they knew nothing.
At one time the commission seemed in imminent
danger of losing their lives. Even Ouray veered
about, put on his Indian clothes, and appeared thought
ful and ferocious. General Hatch had previously sent
for a detachment of soldiers as an escort, who appear
ed, most likely, in time to be of good service in fright
ening the Indians and preventing ill treatment of the
commission.
Ouray has made a proposition to have a delegation
of the hostiles sent to Washington to treat with the
Secretary, but the Secretary has virtually declined to
grant them this privilege, whereat the Indians are
THE UTE WAR. 1/9
greatly displeased. Thus the matter stands. The
hostiles have gone back to their mountain retreats
and probably expect to remain there during the win
ter. It is probably not well to make predictions in a
book which may so soon as is the prospect in this case
be verified or prove unfounded, but we feel perfectly
safe^in saying that if the Indians are to be punished
for their past offences the army will yet be compelled
to take the matter in hand, either this winter or dur
ing the coming spring.
We have refrained in our narrative from burdening
it with opinions of our own 'concerning the events
which we have related, believing that the facts speak for
themselves and that the more boldly they are allowed
to stand forth in their own natural ugliness, the more
apt they will be to impress upon the reader the true
condition of Indian affairs in Colorado. Our position
is not a half-way one. We join in the chorus that
comes^up from the entire State, from the entire west,
alike from the plains and from the mountains, and
the gist of which is that the Indians must go. In this
State we^conftne ourselves to the Utes. They have
been a hindrance and a drawback to Colorado's pro
gress, occupying a third of the area of the State.
Standing in the way of the march of civilization, for
bidding schools, preventing settlement, keeping out
railroads, they are a pest and a nuisance. More than
this, they are murderers and thieves — criminals of the
worst character, malicious towards the whites and
bent upon doing all they can to annoy and injure the
race. So far as their rights are concerned, they have,
if they ever had any, forfeited them by their own con
duct. They have robbed the white people, burned
the forests, destroyed the game and murdered a hun
dred men. They are savages because they will not
ISO THE UTE WAR.
become civilized. They lie and steal and murder
because they prefer doing so to adopting the customs
and manners of the white people, and not because
they do not know that it is wrong and against the law
of the land to do these things. The people of the
west will never be satisfied until the murderers of
Thornburgh and his soldiers and of Agent Meeker
and the agency employes, atone for these deeds with
their own blood. The death of one or two or a dozen
will not be sufficient to satisfy justice, but all who
took part in the bloody work must be punished.
And the other Utes should be accommodated at some
other place. It will be better for them and better for
the whites. The opinion prevails throughout the
State that the land now occupied by the Indians is
rich in mineral. There are ten thousand prospectors
along the border, casting wistful eyes to the land
beyond which they believe to abound in mineral treas
ure. Many have ventured over and have found what
they sought.
All who have crossed the line have determined to
return, and their reports have decided many others
to follow them. It may safely be predicted that three
thousand prospectors will invade the Ute reservation
land next spring. These men can not understand
why gold and silver should exist right under their
noses, though it be on an Indian reservation, lying
there like capital buried, and they not be allowed to
dig it out and put it to use. We agree with them.
The mineral is there, and the miners and prospectors,
upright to a man, who are courageous and hardy
enough to undertake to get it, should have it.
Frontier life in the mountains is hard enough and
perilous enough at best. Bad roads, the distance
from home and the necessities of life, and hard cli
mate, are sufficient of themselves, without adding
THE UTE WAR. l8l
danger from Indians. These frontiersmen, whether in
Massachusetts or Virginia, Ohio or Kentucky, Wis
consin or Missouri, Colorado or the Black Hills, in
whatever part of the continent they may go, have
opened up the way for the advance of the white man
and civilization. To them the present prosperity and
extent of the country are due. To them the existence
of North America is wholly due — not to any presum
ing Secretary of the Interior or Boston Tract Society.
These noble men should be protected in their work.
Though, of course, self-interest is with most of them
the impelling motive, they nevertheless do mankind
a vast service in their advances into the new and wild
lands, opening up new sources of wealth and new
places for homes. But the prospectors expect to
explore the western border of Colorado next year,
whether it be pleasant to a half-dozen men at Wash
ington, who know really nothing about the matter
which they control, or attempt to control, or not; or
whether the Indians are there or not. If the Indians
are not removed, conflicts are inevitable, and many
valuable lives, not only those of prospectors but those
of families in settlements off the reservation, are sure
to be sacrificed.
What Colorado asks is :
That the Utes who took part in or inspired the
Thornburgh fight and the agency massacre, be exe
cuted.
That the remaining members of the tribe be re
moved to some reservation outside the bounds of
the State.
What the West asks is :
That the Indians of all tribes and nations be gath
ered at one place, Indian Territory for example.
That they be made to earn their own living as
other men and women are, or allowed to starve.
1 82 THE UTE WAR.
That the control of them be left to the army as a
police force to preserve and compel order, and not to
contrive devices to induce the Indians to be good — to
coerce them into proper habits.
The following resolutions, adopted by a mass meet
ing of the people of Greeley, the town founded and
guided to prosperity by Mr. Meeker, we consider a
fit conclusion of this volume of frontier history :
Resolved, That while paying tribute to our de
ceased friends and neighbors, we would gladly cher
ish a hope that this awful sacrifice may somehow
serve to lessen the volume of atrocity incident to our
Indian policy.
Resolved, That the government be called upon
through our representatives in Congress to^make full
compensation for all private property destroyed by
this outbreak, and to suitably pension all persons who
were dependent for support upon our friends and
neighbors who were killed.
Resolved, That we heartily commend the prompt
and diligent efforts of Governor Pitkin to protect the
citizens of the State from Indian ravages ever since the
hostile attitude of the Utes became apparent.
Resolved, That we mournfully deprecate the great
apparent neglect of Mr. Meeker's touching appeal for
relief made as early as the loth of September last.
Resolved, That we indignantly denounce the grace
less insinuations and gratuitous assertion of some
eastern papers that this defection among the Utes is
the result of bad faith on' the part of the Agent and
people of Colorado, as wholly unfounded in fact, and
made in a fault-finding spirit among people entirely
ignorant of the situation, and of the Indian character.
Resolved, That the idea so often offered by Con
gress that the Indian is the ward of the government,
merits the application of a policy more analagous to
THE UTE WAR. 183
the humane principles of the common law of " Guar
dian and ward " than any hitherto adopted by the
government.
Resolved, That, conceding the embarrassment inci
dent to the proper solution of the Indian question, we
insist that the constant breeding of a horde of savages
in the central part of the continent, maintaining them
in idleness as wards of the government, without re
stricting 'influences, providing them with the best
weapons of destruction, appears, after so many years
of experience, like a special invention of evil genius
to make savage warfare and atrocities inevitable and
frequent.
Resolved, That so long as the most romantic por
tions of our domain are to be especially dedicated as
nurseries of barbarism, we insist that, so fast as the
Indian is thus bred up, equipped and fitted for his
treacherous warfare, and found hostile and determined
to kill and murder; he be certainly slain, and no more
fed and petted as a ward.
Resolved, ^That all efforts to civilize the Indians
must prove futile as long as they ar.e permitted to re
tain their tribal relations, indulge in barbarous prac
tices, taught to regard themselves as independent
nationalities, to be treated with, upon an equal foot
ing, like a foreign country, and as such, pampered
with the idea of a sovereign right to make war against
the government for any fancied grievance.
Resolved, That the first requirement in the process
of civilizing the Indian, is to teach him a sense of
responsibility to the government, which supports and
protects him ; whereas, under the policy which has so
long obtained, he derives no such lesson, but, on the
contrary, is habitually impressed with the idea that
the government owes him a living, and has no right
to his loyalty or obedience in return, he should either
184 THE UTE WAR.
be accorded the same rights as a citizen, or should be
regarded as irresponsible and dangerous, and rigidly
kept in restraint.
Resolved, That while the Indian is allowed to remain
within the limits of a State, he should be subject to
the police regulations of the State and governed and
punished by its law and authority. Finally, be it
Resolved, As the sense of this people, that the In
dians within the limits of our State are a hindrance to
its proper development, and a constant menace to the
safety of the people ; that by their recent unprovoked
and inexcusable depredations they have forfeited all
claims to remain among us ; and we insist as our ulti
matum in this matter that the death penalty be inflict
ed upon the fiendish murderers of our friends ; and
that the Utes be speedily removed beyond the bor
ders of Colorado.
Two hundred thousand people pray for this result.
1 86
THE UTE WAR.
ADVERTISEMENTS. 1 87
THE
ALVORD
HOUSE
CORNER LARIMER & ISra STREETS,
DENVER, COLO.
REFURNISHED AND IMPROVED THROUGHOUT.
i88
ADVERTISEMENTS.
OLFE LOW
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W\v*('i
W
All testify that they know nothing of the Massacre or the Thorn-
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COR, 15iH AND BLAKE STS,, DENVER, COL
them Qm mj
ADVERTISEMENTS.
Tfre Wentwortft Mouse*
j&~ za:. I^ISTIES, x=roprie-tor.
CURTIS STREET, BET. 15ra& IBTH, DENVER, COL
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Special Contracts made to parties and families. Weekly
rates from $8.OO to $2O.OQ, according to
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The proprietor offers to the public his present new facilities with the full
assurance that he has the most elegant and complete hotel building to be found
in this or any other city of the west. Fifteen years' experience in hotel life
convinces him that the people want less nonsense and more of real comforts,
and the new Wentworth will be found especially arranged and adapted to the
real demands of the traveling public. Special rates will be given families.
Rooms in my cottages and the old Wentworth are still at the command of guests
at same rates as formerly. Thanking my rrtany friends and the public generally
for past favors, I shall endeavor with present facilities and reasonable prices to
merit a long continuance of their patronage. A, H. ESTES, Proprietor.
190
ADVERTISEMENTS.
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world, this is purely vegetable, and possesses a delightful flavor, so
that the most delicate and fastidious find it a pleasure to avail them
selves of its wonderful healing properties.
*
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SOLE PROPRIETORS,
For Sale by all^Druggists.
ADVERTISEMENTS.
E
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THE HEADING
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C LOTH I E R S
OF COLORADO.
Men's, Boys' and Children's Clothing
EVER SHOWN IN THIS STATE.
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192
THE UTE WAR.
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