corral. It was as wide as the fort and deep enough to contain a large
herd. The walls were about eight feet high and three feet thick at the
top. The gate was on the south side of the corral, and so faced the
river. It was of wood, but was completely plated with sheet-iron. More
than that, to prevent any one from climbing in by night, the tops of
the walls had been thickly planted with cactus--a large variety which
grows about a foot high and has great fleshy leaves closely covered
with many and sharp thorns. This grew so luxuriantly that in some
places the leaves hung down over the walls, both within and without,
and gave most efficient protection against any living thing that might
wish to surmount the wall.
Through the west wall of the fort a door was cut, leading from the
stockade into the corral, permitting people to go through and get
horses without going outside the fort and opening the main gate of the
corral. This door was wide and arched at the top. It was made large
enough, so that in case of necessity--if by chance an attacking party
seemed likely to capture the horses and mules in the corral--the door
could be opened and the herd run inside the main stockade.
About two hundred yards to the south of the fort, and so toward the
river bank, on a little mound, stood a large ice-house built of adobes
or sun-dried bricks. In winter when the river was frozen this ice-house
was filled, and in it during the summer was kept all the surplus fresh
meat--buffalo tongues, antelope, dried meat and tongues--and also all
the bacon. At times the ice-house was hung thick with flesh food.
On hot days, with the other little children, young George Bent used to
go down to the ice-house and get in it to cool off, and his father’s
negro cook used to come down and send them away, warning them not to
go in there from the hot sun, as it was too cold and they might get
sick. This negro cook, Andrew Green by name, a slave owned by Governor
Charles Bent, was with him when he was killed in Taos, and afterward
came to the fort and was there for many years, but was at last taken
back to St. Louis and there set free. He had a brother “Dick,” often
mentioned in the old books.
Besides Bent’s Fort, Bent and St. Vrain owned Fort St. Vrain, on the
South Platte, opposite the mouth of St. Vrain’s Fork, and Fort Adobe,
on the Canadian. Both these posts were built of adobe brick. Fort St.
Vrain was built to trade with the Northern Indians; that is, with the
Sioux and Northern Cheyennes, who seldom got down south as far as the
Arkansas River, and so would not often come to Fort William. The Fort
Adobe on the Canadian was built by request of the chiefs of the Kiowa,
Comanche, and Apache to trade with these people. The chiefs who made
this request were To´hau sen (Little Mountain) and Eagle-Tail Feathers,
speaking for the Kiowa, Shaved Head for the Comanche, and Poor (Lean)
Bear for the Apache.
These in their day were men of importance. Shaved Head was a great
friend of the whites and a man of much influence with his own people
and with neighboring tribes. He wore the left side of his head shaved
close, while the hair on the right side was long, hanging down to his
waist or below. His left ear was perforated with many holes made by
a blunt awl heated red-hot, and was adorned with many little brass
rings. Before peace was made between the Kiowas, Comanches, and Apaches
in the year 1840, the last three tribes were more or less afraid to
visit Fort William, lest they should there meet a large camp of their
enemies, and Colonel Bent and the traders were also especially anxious
to avoid any collision at the fort. Each tribe would expect the trader
to take its part, and this he could not do without incurring the enmity
of the other tribes. The wish of the trader was to be on good terms
with all tribes, and this William Bent accomplished with singular
discretion. Although he had a Cheyenne wife, he was on excellent terms,
and always remained so, with the enemies of the Cheyennes.
Both Fort St. Vrain and Fort Adobe, being built of adobes, lasted for
a long time, and their ruins have been seen until quite recently. Near
the ruins of Fort Adobe two important fights have taken place, to be
referred to later.
In the business of the fort William Bent had the direction of the trade
with the Indians, while his brother Charles seems to have had more to
do with affairs in the Mexican settlements, until his death there, at
the hands of the Mexicans and Pueblos, in the year 1847. It is not
certain when St. Vrain, Lee, and Benito Vasquez became partners in the
business, nor how long they were interested in it. George and Robert
Bent, who came out from St. Louis, certainly later than the two elder
brothers, may have been partners, but there is nothing to show that
they were so. Robert died in 1847.
Some time before this George Bent went to Mexico and there married a
Mexican girl, by whom he had two children, a son and a daughter. The
son, Robert, went to school in St. Louis. He died at Dodge City, Kan.,
in 1875. George Bent was a great friend of Frank P. Blair, whom he
appointed guardian for his children. He died at the fort about 1848 of
consumption, and was buried near his brother Robert in the graveyard
which lay a short distance northeast of the northeast bastion of the
fort. The old tailor, a Frenchman, afterward planted cactus over George
Bent’s grave to protect it from the wolves and coyotes. Their remains
were later removed to St. Louis.
After the death of Charles Bent, in 1847, William Bent continued
his work. Perhaps St. Vrain may have remained a partner for a time.
Fitzpatrick speaks of “Messrs. Bent and St. Vrain’s post” in 1850.
Bent was an active man and interested in many other projects besides
the fort and trade with the Indians. He bought sheep and mules in New
Mexico and drove them across the plains to the Missouri market. In
the forties, in company with several other men, he secured a large
land grant from the Mexican government in the Arkansas valley above
the fort and attempted to found a colony there. Mexican settlers were
established on the lands. The colonists were inert, the Indians were
hostile, and from these and other causes the project proved a failure.
In 1847 William Bent and St. Vrain drove a large herd of Mexican cattle
to the Arkansas and wintered them in the valley near the fort, thus
making the first step toward establishing the cattle industry, which
many years later so flourished on the plains.
Besides his lands near the fort, Bent had a fine farm at Westport (now
Kansas City), in Missouri, and a ranch south of the Arkansas in the
Mexican territory. In 1846 he guided Colonel Price’s Missouri regiment
across the plains to New Mexico, and was so popular among the volunteer
officers that they gave him the brevet of colonel, a title which stuck
to him until the day of his death.
II
GOVERNOR CHARLES BENT
Charles Bent was a close rival to his brother William in the esteem
of his fellow traders and the trappers and Indians of the Arkansas.
He seems from the first, however, to have taken the most active part
in the Santa Fé trade of the company, leaving the Indian trade to
the other partners. Among the traders and teamsters of the Santa Fé
caravans he was as much liked as William Bent was among the trappers
and Indians; indeed, on more than one occasion, he was elected captain
of the caravan and conducted it safely to Santa Fé. These caravans
of Missouri traders were richly laden for those days. The outfit of
1832 brought back from New Mexico $100,000 in specie and $90,000 in
other property, including large numbers of Mexican mules. In 1833
the caravan with Bent as captain assembled at Diamond Springs, on the
Missouri frontier. There were 184 men, with ninety-three large wagons
loaded with goods. They brought back $100,000 in money and much other
property.
Charles Bent married a Mexican woman and made his home at San
Fernando,[6] a small town in the valley of Taos. He was popular among
his Mexican and Pueblo neighbors until he was appointed governor of
the territory by General Kearny, who marched into New Mexico with
his little army in the fall. Having put Governor Bent and his civil
government in control of affairs, the general left a few troops in and
about Santa Fé, and with the rest of his forces marched for California.
Hardly had he gone when rumors of a revolt of the Mexican and Indian
population against American rule began to be heard, and late in
December evidence of such a plot was unearthed. These events are set
forth in the following letter from Governor Bent to the Hon. James
Buchanan, secretary of state:
[6] This name is spelled in various ways even by Mexicans.
“Santa Fé, N. M., Dec. 26, 1846.--Sir: I have been informed indirectly
that Col. A. W. Doniphan, who, in October last, marched with his
regiment against the Navajo Indians, has made treaty of peace with
them. Not having been officially notified of this treaty, I am not able
to state the terms upon which it has been concluded; but, so far as
I am able to learn, I have but little ground to hope that it will be
permanent.
“On the 17th inst. I received information from a Mexican friendly to
our Government that a conspiracy was on foot among the native Mexicans,
having for its object the expulsion of the United States troops and
the civil authorities from the territory. I immediately brought into
requisition every means in my power to ascertain who were the movers in
the rebellion, and have succeeded in securing seven of the secondary
conspirators. The military and civil officers are now both in pursuit
of the two leaders and prime movers of the rebellion; but as several
days have elapsed, I am apprehensive that they will have made their
escape from the territory.
“So far as I am informed this conspiracy is confined to the four
northern counties of the territory, and the men considered as leaders
in the affair cannot be said to be men of much standing.
“After obtaining the necessary information to designate and secure the
persons of the participators in the conspiracy, I thought it advisable
to turn them over to the military authorities in order that these
persons might be dealt with more summarily and expeditiously than they
could have been by the civil authorities.
“The occurrence of this conspiracy at this early period of the
occupation of the territory will, I think, conclusively convince our
Government of the necessity of maintaining here, for several years to
come, an efficient military force.”
Having taken measures for the arrest of the leaders of the conspiracy,
Governor Bent set out from Santa Fé early in January for a few days’
visit to his family at San Fernando, near the pueblo of Taos, inhabited
by civilized Pueblo Indians. Three Pueblo thieves had been arrested and
locked up in the calabozo at San Fernando some time before Governor
Bent’s arrival. On the 19th of January a mob of Pueblos entered the
town and attempted to force the American sheriff, Lee, to give up
these three prisoners. Lee, being helpless to resist the Indians’
demands, was on the point of releasing his prisoners when the prefect
of the town, Vigil, a Mexican who had taken office under the American
Government, appeared among the Indians and, calling out to them in a
fury that they were all thieves and scoundrels, ordered Lee to hold
the three prisoners. Enraged at the prefect’s harsh words, the Pueblos
rushed upon him, killed him, cut his body into small pieces, and then,
being joined by a number of Mexicans, set out to kill every American in
the settlement.
Governor Bent’s house was the first they visited. He was still in bed
when aroused by his wife on the approach of the mob, and he at once
sprang up and ran to a window, through which he called to a Mexican
neighbor to help him get through into his house and conceal him. The
Mexican refused his aid and replied that he must die. Seeing that all
ways of escape were blocked, the governor quietly left the window and
returned to his family. “He withdrew into his room,” writes Mr. Dunn,
“and the Indians began tearing up the roof. With all the calmness of a
noble soul he stood awaiting his doom. His wife brought him his pistols
and told him to fight, to avenge himself, even if he must die. The
Indians were exposed to his aim, but he replied, ‘No, I will not kill
any one of them; for the sake of you, my wife, and you, my children.
At present my death is all these people wish.’ As the savages poured
into the room he appealed to their manhood and honor, but in vain.
They laughed at his plea. They told him they were about to kill every
American in New Mexico and would begin with him. An arrow followed the
word, another and another, but the mode was not swift enough. One, more
impatient, sent a bullet through his heart. As he fell, Tomas, a chief,
stepped forward, snatched one of his pistols, and shot him in the face.
They took his scalp, stretched it on a board with brass nails, and
carried it through the streets in triumph.”
Garrard, who was at Taos in the days immediately following the
massacre, tells of Governor Bent’s death in the following words:
“While here in Fernandez (San Fernandez) with his family he was one
morning early aroused from sleep by the populace, who, with the aid of
the Pueblos de Taos, were collected in front of his dwelling, striving
to gain admittance. While they were effecting an entrance, he, with
an axe, cut through an adobe wall into another house. The wife of the
occupant, a clever, though thriftless, Canadian, heard him, and with
all her strength rendered him assistance, though she was a Mexican. He
retreated to a room, but seeing no way of escaping from the infuriated
assailants who fired upon him through a window, he spoke to his weeping
wife and trembling children clinging to him with all the tenacity
of love and despair, and taking a paper from his pocket endeavored
to write, but fast losing strength he commended them to God and his
brothers, and fell pierced by a Pueblo’s ball. Rushing in and tearing
off the gray-haired scalp, the Indians bore it away in triumph.”
Among the people killed were Stephen Lee, Narcisse Beaubien, and others.
When the news of Governor Bent’s death reached the plains it created
great excitement, for Charles Bent was exceedingly popular with white
people and Indians alike. The Cheyennes proposed to send a war-party to
Taos and to kill all the Mexicans, but William Bent would not permit
it. A party from Bent’s Fort set out for Taos, but on the road were met
by messengers announcing that Colonel Price had marched into Taos at
the head of two hundred and fifty men and had had a fight with Mexicans
and Indians in which two hundred were killed, and had then bombarded
the town and knocked down its walls. A neighboring town was razed and a
large amount of property destroyed.
The killing of the people at Turley’s Ranch, on the Arroyo Hondo, was
a costly triumph to the Pueblos. Here were shut up men who fought well
for their lives.
Ruxton tells of the battle in graphic language:
“The massacre of Turley and his people, and the destruction of his
mill, were not consummated without considerable loss to the barbarous
and cowardly assailants. There were in the house, at the time of the
attack, eight white men, including Americans, French-Canadians, and
one or two Englishmen, with plenty of arms and ammunition. Turley had
been warned of the intended insurrection, but had treated the report
with indifference and neglect, until one morning a man named Otterbees,
in the employ of Turley, and who had been dispatched to Santa Fé with
several mule-loads of whiskey a few days before, made his appearance
at the gate on horseback, and hastily informing the inmates of the
mill that the New Mexicans had risen and massacred Governor Bent and
other Americans, galloped off. Even then Turley felt assured that he
would not be molested, but, at the solicitations of his men, agreed to
close the gate of the yard round which were the buildings of a mill and
distillery, and make preparations for defence.
“A few hours after, a large crowd of Mexicans and Pueblo Indians
made their appearance, all armed with guns and bows and arrows, and
advancing with a white flag summoned Turley to surrender his house
and the Americans in it, guaranteeing that his own life should be
saved, but that every other American in the valley of Taos had to be
destroyed; that the Governor and all the Americans at Fernandez and the
rancho had been killed, and that not one was to be left alive in all
New Mexico.
“To this summons Turley answered that he would never surrender his
house nor his men, and that, if they wanted it or them, ‘they must take
them.’
“The enemy then drew off, and, after a short consultation, commenced
the attack. The first day they numbered about 500, but the crowd was
hourly augmented by the arrival of parties of Indians from the more
distant pueblos, and of New Mexicans from Fernandez, La Cañada, and
other places.
“The building lay at the foot of a gradual slope in the sierra, which
was covered with cedar-bushes. In front ran the stream of the Arroyo
Hondo, about twenty yards from one side of the square, and on the other
side was broken ground, which rose abruptly and formed the bank of the
ravine. In rear and behind the still-house was some garden-ground,
inclosed by a small fence, and into which a small wicket-gate opened
from the corral.
“As soon as the attack was determined upon, the assailants broke, and,
scattering, concealed themselves under the cover of the rocks and
bushes that surrounded the house.
“From these they kept up an incessant fire upon every exposed portion
of the building where they saw the Americans preparing for defence.
“They, on their parts, were not idle; not a man but was an old
mountaineer, and each had his trusty rifle with good store of
ammunition. Wherever one of the assailants exposed a hand’s breadth of
his person there whistled a ball from an unerring barrel. The windows
had been blockaded, loop-holes being left to fire through, and through
these a lively fire was maintained. Already several of the enemy had
bitten the dust, and parties were constantly seen bearing off the
wounded up the banks of the Cañada. Darkness came on, and during the
night a continual fire was kept up on the mill, while its defenders,
reserving their ammunition, kept their posts with stern and silent
determination. The night was spent in running balls, cutting patches,
and completing the defences of the building. In the morning the fight
was renewed, and it was found that the Mexicans had effected a lodgment
in a part of the stables, which were separated from the other portions
of the building, and between which was an open space of a few feet. The
assailants, during the night, had sought to break down the wall, and
thus enter the main building, but the strength of the adobes and logs
of which it was composed resisted effectually all their attempts.
“Those in the stable seemed anxious to regain the outside, for their
position was unavailable as a means of annoyance to the besieged, and
several had darted across the narrow space which divided it from the
other part of the building, and which slightly projected, and behind
which they were out of the line of fire. As soon, however, as the
attention of the defenders was called to this point, the first man who
attempted to cross, and who happened to be a Pueblo chief, was dropped
on the instant and fell dead in the center of the intervening space.
It appeared an object to recover the body, for an Indian immediately
dashed out to the fallen chief and attempted to drag him within the
cover of the wall. The rifle which covered the spot again poured forth
its deadly contents, and the Indian, springing into the air, fell over
the body of his chief, struck to the heart. Another and another met
with a similar fate, and at last three rushed at once to the spot,
and, seizing the body by the legs and head, had already lifted it from
the ground, when three puffs of smoke blew from the barricaded window,
followed by the sharp cracks of as many rifles, and the three daring
Indians added their number to the pile of corpses which now covered the
body of the dead chief.
“As yet the besieged had met with no casualties; but after the fall of
the seven Indians, in the manner above described, the whole body of
assailants, with a shout of rage, poured in a rattling volley, and two
of the defenders of the mill fell mortally wounded. One, shot through
the loins, suffered great agony, and was removed to the still-house,
where he was laid upon a large pile of grain, as being the softest bed
to be found.
“In the middle of the day the assailants renewed the attack more
fiercely than before, their baffled attempts adding to their furious
rage. The little garrison bravely stood to the defence of the mill,
never throwing away a shot, but firing coolly, and only when a fair
mark was presented to their unerring aim. Their ammunition, however,
was fast failing, and to add to the danger of their situation the
enemy set fire to the mill, which blazed fiercely and threatened
destruction to the whole building. Twice they succeeded in overcoming
the flames, and, taking advantage of their being thus occupied, the
Mexicans and Indians charged into the corral, which was full of hogs
and sheep, and vented their cowardly rage upon the animals, spearing
and shooting all that came in their way. No sooner, however, were the
flames extinguished in one place, than they broke out more fiercely in
another; and as a successful defence was perfectly hopeless, and the
numbers of the assailants increased every moment, a council of war was
held by the survivors of the little garrison, when it was determined,
as soon as night approached, that everyone should attempt to escape as
best he might, and in the meantime the defence of the mill was to be
continued.
“Just at dusk, Albert and another man ran to the wicket-gate, which
opened into a kind of inclosed space, and in which was a number of
armed Mexicans. They both rushed out at the same moment, discharging
their rifles full in the faces of the crowd. Albert in the confusion
threw himself under the fence, whence he saw his companion shot down
immediately, and heard his cries for mercy, mingled with shrieks of
pain and anguish, as the cowards pierced him with knives and lances.
Lying without motion under the fence, as soon as it was quite dark he
crept over the logs and ran up the mountain, traveled day and night,
and, scarcely stopping or resting, reached the Greenhorn, almost dead
with hunger and fatigue. Turley himself succeeded in escaping from
the mill and in reaching the mountain unseen. Here he met a Mexican,
mounted on a horse, who had been a most intimate friend of the
unfortunate man for many years. To this man Turley offered his watch
(which was treble its worth) for the use of his horse, but was refused.
The inhuman wretch, however, affected pity and commiseration for the
fugitive, and advised him to go to a certain place where he would
bring or send him assistance; but on reaching the mill, which was now
a mass of fire, he immediately informed the Mexicans of his place of
concealment, whither a large party instantly proceeded and shot him to
death.
“Two others escaped and reached Santa Fé in safety. The mill and
Turley’s house were sacked and gutted, and all his hard-earned
savings, which were considerable, and concealed in gold about the
house, were discovered, and of course, seized upon, by the victorious
Mexicans.
“The Indians, however, met a few days after with a severe retribution.
The troops marched out of Santa Fé, attacked their pueblo, and levelled
it to the ground, killing many hundreds of its defenders, and taking
many prisoners, most of whom were hanged.”
The death of Charles Bent, of his brother Robert later in the same
year, and of George Bent in 1848, left only Colonel William Bent to
carry on the business of Bent’s Fort, and the trade with Mexico,
together with all the other operations in which he was engaged. From
this time forth William Bent worked alone.
Charles Bent had one son and two daughters. Alfred, the son, died some
years ago. One of the daughters is said to be still living (1909) in
Mexico, very old. Tom Boggs married the other daughter. She had one
son, Charles Boggs. He and his mother are both believed to be dead.
III
FORT ST. VRAIN AND FORT ADOBE