their annual expeditions across the plains, prepared to fight or barter,
as the temper of the Indians might dictate. The old trappers who had
made their abode in the mountain regions met the traders at a given
rendezvous, receiving powder, lead, tobacco, and a few accessories in
exchange for their furs. To one of these parties Wyeth attached himself,
and it was well that he did so.
Before reaching the Platte, five of Wyeth’s men deserted their
companions, either from dissatisfaction with their leader, or because
they had just begun to realize the hazard of the enterprise. Nat Wyeth,
however, was of that stuff we so expressly name clear grit. There was no
flinching about him, the Pacific was his objective, and he determined to
arrive at his destination even if he marched alone. William Sublette’s
party, which Wyeth had joined, encountered the vicissitudes common to a
trip across the plains in that day; the only difference being that the
New England men now faced these difficulties for the first time, whereas
Sublette’s party was largely composed of experienced plainsmen. They
followed the course of the Platte, seeing great herds of buffalo roaming
at large, while they experienced the gnawings of hunger for want of fuel
to cook the delicious humps, sirloins and joints, constantly paraded
like the fruit of Tantalus before their greedy eyes. They found the
streams turbulent and swift; the Black Hills, which the iron horse now
so easily ascends, were infested with bears and rattlesnakes. Many of
the party fell ill from the effects of drinking the brackish water of
the Platte, Dr. Jacob Wyeth, brother of the captain and surgeon of the
party, being unluckily of this number.
Sublette, a French creole, and one of the pioneers that have preceded
pony-express, telegraph, stagecoach and locomotive, in their onward
march, had no fears of the rivalry of the New England men, and readily
took them under his protection. Besides, they swelled his numbers by the
addition of a score of good rifles, no inconsiderable acquisition when
his valuable caravan entered the country of the treacherous Blackfeet,
the thieving Crows, or warlike Nez Perces. The united bands arrived at
Pierre’s Hole, the trading rendezvous, in July, where they embraced the
first opportunity for repose since leaving the white settlements.
At this place there was a further secession from Wyeth’s company, by
which he was left with only eleven men, the remainder preferring to
return home with Sublette. Petty grievances, a somewhat too arrogant
demeanor on the part of the leader, and the conviction that the trip
would prove a failure, caused these men to desert their companions when
only a few hundred miles distant from the mouth of the Columbia. Before
a final separation occurred, a severe battle took place between the
whites and their Indian allies and the Blackfeet, by which Sublette lost
seven of his own men killed and thirteen wounded. None of Wyeth’s men
were injured in this fight, but a little later one of those who had
separated from him was ambushed and killed by Blackfeet.
Wyeth now joined Milton Sublette, the brother of William, under whose
guidance he proceeded towards Salmon River. The Bostons, as the
Northwest Coast Indians formerly styled all white men, arrived at
Vancouver on the twenty-ninth of October, having occupied seven months
in a journey which may now be made in as many days. The expedition was a
failure, indeed, so far as gain was concerned, and Wyeth’s men all left
him at the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort. The captain, nothing daunted,
and determined to make use of his dearly bought experience, returned to
the States the ensuing season. His adventures may be followed by the
curious in the pleasant pages of Irving’s Captain Bonneville. Arriving
at the headwaters of the Missouri, he built what is known as a
bull-boat, made of buffalo skins stitched together and stretched over a
slight frame, in which, with two or three half-breeds, he consigned
himself to the treacherous currents and quicksands of the Big Horn. Down
this stream he floated to its confluence with the Yellowstone. At Fort
Union he exchanged his leather bark for a dug-out, with which he sailed,
floated, or paddled down the turbid Missouri to Camp (now Fort)
Leavenworth. He returned to Boston, and, having secured the means, again
repaired to St. Louis, where he enlisted a second company of sixty men,
with which he once more sought the old Oregon trail.
This was sixty years ago. Since then the Great American Desert, as it
was called, has undergone a magical transformation. Cities of twenty
thousand inhabitants exist today where Wyeth found only a dreary
wilderness; from the Big Muddy to the Pacific you are scarcely ever out
of sight of the smoke of the settler’s cabin. In looking at the dangers
and trials to which Wyeth found himself opposed, it must be admitted
that he exhibited rare traits of courage and perseverance, allied with
the natural capacity of a leader. His misfortunes arose through
ignorance, and, perhaps to no small extent also, from that vanity which
inclines your full-blooded Yankee to believe himself capable of
everything, because the word “impossible” is expunged from his
vocabulary.
NOTES.
[These notes were intended to be material for the closing pages of the
Quarterly, but were misplaced by the printer in the make-up.]
By the death of Elliott Coues last Christmas the history of exploration
of the region west of the Mississippi lost a most active and wonderfully
proficient worker. After nearly a lifetime spent in prodigious activity
in scientific lines he turned his energies to collecting, annotating and
editing the original records of explorers and traders of the northwest
and southwest. When Doctor Coues first took up the work of editing the
narratives of explorers he had attained great eminence as a writer in
ornithology. His reputation for thorough scholarship in the whole field
of biology was such that he was assigned the subjects of general
zoology, comparative anatomy and biology in the preparation of the
Century Dictionary. “His scientific writings number about one thousand
titles.”
He had spent some sixteen years either as a surgeon at different army
posts in the west, as far apart as Arizona and North Dakota, or as
naturalist connected with different surveys. Thus he brought a unique
preparation to the crowning work of his life in history. His
annotations, elucidating points of geography, zoology, and ethnology,
are copious and minute to a degree that quite bewilders the average
reader. The first fruits of his labors in the field of history were the
four volumes of his edition of Lewis and Clark in 1893, Zebulon Pike’s
Expeditions followed in 1895; Henry and Thompson’s Journals in 1897; and
Fowler’s Journal and Larpenteur’s Narratives—distinct works—have
appeared since. He was engaged on the Diary of Francisco Garces, when he
broke down last September, in Santa Fe, at the age of fifty-seven. The
issue of the New York _Times_ of March 3, speaks of the recent great
increase in value of all these works. The first two are particularly
scarce, and have commanded treble their original value.
Through Mrs. Frances Fuller Victor it is learned that he had expressed a
warm interest in the work of the Oregon Historical Society. He would
have been pleased with an honorary membership in the Society. To
acknowledge in some fitting way the great service he has done the
history of the Northwest would do the Society graceful credit.
A two-volume life of Gen. Isaac Ingalls Stevens by his son, Gen. Hazard
Stevens, is announced to appear in May. The history of the Pacific
Northwest during the eight eventful years from 1853 to 1861, cannot be
understood without a knowledge of the striking personality of General
Stevens. As Governor of Washington Territory, in command of the
exploration and survey of the northern route for the Pacific Railroad,
in authority during the terrible Yakima war, 1855-56, and as author and
executor of the summary proceedings for the settlement of the
difficulties arising out of that war, Governor Stevens had a most
conspicuous part in making that history. Gen. Hazard Stevens has been at
work on this life since 1877, and during the last two years has given
almost his whole time to it. He says that he found his father’s reports
in the Indian Department, and others in Washington very full and
complete, especially those relating to his Indian councils and treaties.
“The proceedings at the Walla Walla council,” he remarks, “are
especially interesting, particularly the speeches of the Indian chiefs.”
He believes that the life will have especial historical value in setting
the origin of the Indian war of 1855-56, the policy pursued towards the
Indians, and the prosecution of the Indian war in a correct light.
General Stevens recognizes that the Oregon Historical Society is the
rightful heir to the rich collection of historical material from which
this part of this work was written.
The Oregon Historical Society, as a perusal of the reports of its
activities during the first year of its existence reveals, has entered
upon its work under most favorable auspices. The legislature appreciated
the importance of the functions undertaken, and the expense attending a
successful fulfillment of them. The membership roll indicates a hearty
and strong response to the idea that Oregon shall be true to her makers.
The Society had at the date of the first annual report of the Secretary
seventy-six life members and two hundred and ninety-four annual members.
The primal mission of the Society is to bring together in the most
complete measure possible the data for the history of the commonwealth,
and to stimulate the widest and highest use of them. Every member should
avail himself of his first opportunity to visit the rooms of the Society
in the City Hall at Portland. The Directors believe that he will be
assured that there has been commendable zeal in the prosecution of the
Society’s work. They are concerned, however, that every member shall
realize that the trust devolving upon the Society is such that it cannot
be adequately or gloriously fulfilled unless each is alert in
discovering material, and concerned that it shall reach the collections
of the Society. In this line of our commonwealth’s interests everything
as to serviceability and value depends upon the concentration of the
material.
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REMINISCENCES OF F. X. MATTHIEU.
By H. S. LYMAN.
Francis Xavier Matthieu, a pioneer of French Prairie, near the old town
of Champoeg, of the year 1842, and a participant in the movement for the
Oregon provisional government of May, 1843, was a French-Canadian by
birth. His native town was Terrebonne, twelve miles from Montreal, and
his father and mother were of pure French descent—the father’s family
being from Normandy, and the mother’s from Brittany; and both branches
were very early immigrants to Canada. They belonged to the working
class, and the parents of F. X. were only in the moderate circumstances
of the independent farmer. Owing to this circumstance, young Matthieu
was obliged at an early age to begin life on his own account. He went to
Montreal when quite young, and engaged as a clerk in a mercantile house.
There was, however, still earlier, while he was yet a schoolboy in his
native town, a very powerful formative influence that moulded all his
ideas, and though somewhat blindly as it first seemed, finally, with
wonderful selective affinity, turned his course westward, and made him
almost the deciding factor of free government in Oregon.
The date of his birth, 1818, brought his early life and schoolboy days
into the very critical time of the patriot movement in Canada. With that
disregard of political obligations for which the British government was
formerly noted, such as had caused the rupture with her greatest
American colonies, the royal authority had failed to keep the promises
made to the Canadian provinces; and, now restive under a rule that
seemed both tyrannous and faithless, the leaders of those Canadians were
demanding their covenanted rights as they understood them. Louis J.
Papineau, an orator of the character of Laurier of the present day, was
leading the movement. He had drawn up the famous memorial, or bill of
grievances, to the British crown. Though not a successful military
leader, and, indeed, discountenancing the use of force, he was a
thrilling orator, and had fired the heart of the French-Canadians with
the hope of equal rights; and created the determination to acquire
these, if not by agitation, then by revolution.
It happened that in the town of Terrebonne, where the little F. X.
Matthieu was living, there was a highly educated civil officer, a notary
public—the office of notary then being a profession that required
special legal, and classical education. The name of this notary was
Velade; and, besides his official duties, he was schoolmaster, receiving
a small stipend from the government, and nominal fees from his pupils.
Velade was a student of government, and a great admirer of the United
States. American liberty and law as developed in this country, he taught
in his school almost to the entire neglect of the Canadian system. This
he not only taught, but actually instituted. Every term his school held
an election after the American plan. Some of the boys also regularly
celebrated the Fourth of July, carrying American flags. This was in
connection with some young men from the United States who had come to
Terrebonne, and started a nail factory. With this extreme Americanism,
however, the townspeople were not altogether pleased, and sometimes
broke up their demonstrations.
While still a mere boy, Matthieu went to Montreal, where he was engaged
in clerking, and there acquired a certain impress and manner that
distinguishes him even yet from the farmer. Being already imbued with
ideas of free government, it was easy for him to find and join the Sons
of Liberty—a secret organization auxiliary to the party called
“Democrats,” who opposed the “Bureaucrats.”
The Sons of Liberty, or patriots, carried their movement to the point of
armed resistance. They drilled regularly in secret, using sticks for
guns; and at night met in secluded places to make cartridges and mould
bullets. Mr. Matthieu has preserved to this day his old bullet mould,
used at that time, which he has now presented to the Oregon Historical
Society. He was himself a very useful member of the Sons of Liberty,
since, being a store clerk, he could procure lead and powder more easily
than some others. One of the services of this company was to guard the
house of Papineau, whose appeals he heard in public, and whose boldness
was bringing on the threatened crisis.
As is well known, however, the movement collapsed. Before a blow was
struck, many of the Sons of Liberty were placed under arrest and
executed. Mr. Matthieu recalls the hanging of sixteen patriots in one
market place, tied in pairs, back to back. Though then a youth of not
twenty years old, he was himself in danger of the same fate and sought
safety at Terrebonne. While here, almost in hiding, he was approached by
a certain Doctor Frasier, a Scotchman, holding some government position,
and who, as it happened, was an uncle of Dr. John McLoughlin, then
Hudson’s Bay chief factor at Fort Vancouver, Oregon Territory. Matthieu
was asked why he did not leave Canada.
“I have no pass,” he replied.
“I will give you one,” said the old doctor; and immediately provided the
necessary paper.
With this passport, Matthieu at once started for the American border. He
would become citizen of the United States. At the line, however, where
it was necessary to present his pass, the officer looked at him sharply;
“You do not correspond with the description;” he said, “this calls for
black eyes, yours are blue”—this inadvertence probably being due to the
fact that his eyes were of that changeable color that turns dark under
excitement.
“Can’t help the description,” replied the young refugee, “that is not my
fault.”
The officer then eyed his red and black diamond squared plaid, which was
the patriot uniform, and which Matthieu had not thought of as unsafe
while he had his passport. But instead of detaining him, the officer
said, “Well, get along with you; the sooner the country is rid of you
fellows, the better”—probably little dreaming that the blue-eyed patriot
was to turn up a few years later in Oregon to confront the British
authority and help that important section of North America over to
liberty as defined in the American Constitution.
Coming to Albany, New York, (1838), he soon found employment as clerk in
a store. To him, his patron was honorable; but not altogether so to his
creditors, as he left the city suddenly and secretly. Matthieu was
entrusted with the care of his family, and was instructed to bring them
to the new scene of operations, being Milwaukee, Wisconsin. This, in
course of time, led the young man to that then far western land (May,
1839). From Milwaukee he went to St. Louis, being attracted toward that
old French city (August, 1839). There he found service very soon with
the American Fur Company—then officered almost exclusively by Frenchmen.
His first outing was to Fort Pierre (October, 1839), on the Missouri
River, among the Sioux and Dakotas—the Sioux Indians being the finest
wild men that he has ever seen, whom he describes as “a great nation,
fine, noble fellows.” During this period he encountered many hardships,
and also much to interest a light-hearted Gallic youth. He remembers one
expedition on which provisions became reduced, the daily allowance being
two biscuits to the man and two ounces of dried Buffalo beef to two
comrades. This lean fare was eked out, as they marched, by eating the
frosted rosebuds of the Missouri meadows. As an incident of a trader’s
life among the Sioux, he recalls with much _gusto_ the solemn feasts of
the chiefs, which it would have been the height of impropriety not to
attend, and which must be observed with all _punctillio_, or spoil all
the bargaining. These were dog feasts, and consisted principally in
eating a plateful of soup of tender dog meat boiled to a paste, into
which red buffalo berries were sprinkled. To leave any of this delicacy
uneaten would be a breach of etiquette too serious to allow; and the
higher the trader was held in estimation, the more liberal the share
placed upon his plate. Not only to a refined palate was the dog paste
rather objectionable, but it often included much of the hair of the dog
as well as other portions. The sharp French trader, however, avoided the
difficulty. He hired an Indian chief of unquestioned appetite to clean
up his plate. Thus the feast had been eaten; and etiquette was fully
satisfied.
A limited amount of alcohol was also used by the traders in connection
with driving bargains, and Mr. Matthieu recalls one instance in which
one gallon of the article judiciously diluted procured ten buffalo
robes, worth $10 each—besides other trumpery. However, the better class
of the traders seldom indulged the Indians beyond moderation, or only at
long intervals. So great was their fondness for the stuff that even the
smell of liquor often seemed to set them wild.
After a year’s service in the country of the Sioux, the return to Saint
Louis was made, and at that point he outfitted as a free trapper, going
out on to the Arkansas to Bent’s Fort (1840). George Bent, the notable
trapper-captain, whom he met there, he describes as “a little bit of a
man, but sharp as lightning.” On this jaunt he also met Kit Carson, who
is almost as well known in the annals of the frontier as Daniel Boone of
Kentucky. Carson he describes as “a terror”—not as a desperado, however,
but as a hunter. He was an unerring shot, and dropped many a buffalo. He
was stocky and nervy in build, and had something of the Southwestern
bluster of manner, yet not so offensively so as many others.
Mr. Matthieu recalls serious hardships on this expedition, passing one
stretch of five days without food. But such experiences were little
thought of, the trapper always relying upon his rifle without fear. In
those days the Indians were very friendly.
Returning eastward the next season, he spent the winter and spring
trapping in the Black Hills (1841). However, it seems that this life of
a trapper, nomadic and free, and dependent only upon the unlimited
bounty of nature, and the friendly offices of the generally tractable
Indians, although amusing in many ways to a light-hearted Frenchman, did
not wholly satisfy young Matthieu. The desire for settled society, and
progressive individual life and home frequently took possession of him;
and the opportunity to gratify this was apparently fortuitously afforded
at Fort Laramie, early in the summer of 1842.
With his party of trappers he found there the Oregon immigrants of that
season. This was the first regular immigration to Oregon across the
plains, and aside from the ladies of the mission parties that had
crossed in 1836-38, it was the first appearance of white women in the
Rocky Mountains.
This was the party of Captain Hastings, in which was Dr. Elijah White,
who had first come to Oregon with the large mission party on the bark
Lausanne, in 1839-40; but had returned east, and was now coming to
Oregon again, crossing the plains, holding the appointment to the
position of sub-Indian agent for Oregon, and was accompanied by a party
of over one hundred immigrants. Doctor White is recalled by Mr. Matthieu
as “a sleek looking gentleman,” and “a quick talker.”
A well-known member of the party was Amos L. Lovejoy, described as very
light sandy-complexioned, and “more quick tempered than any man I ever
knew;” Captain Hastings was of heavy build and swarthy complexion. The
pioneer, Medorem Crawford, then in his young prime, was also in the
company. Sydney Moss, now living as a nonegenarian at Oregon City;
Thomas Sladden and——Robb were also quickly made acquaintances. Among the
women of the party Mr. Matthieu especially recalls an elderly widow,
Mrs. Brown, and her daughter, who were said to have been held, previous
to this time, as captives among the Comanches. There were a number of
families in the train, among them being that of Mr. Smith.
The pilot of the company was Fitzpatrick, the famous guide of Wyeth’s
party, whom Matthieu describes as tall and spare with abundant gray
hair; an Irishman of good common education, and even gentlemanly
bearing; perfectly at home anywhere on the boundless prairies, or within
the mountain ranges. Unlike the most of his race, however, he was very
taciturn.
While this company was waiting at Laramie, provisioning, Matthieu and
his comrades quickly decided to go along with them to Oregon. They had
their rifles and their horses; what more was required? The very first
night, however, they discovered that more was needed. They went
supperless, game having failed during the day; and they could not but
look on with a little envy and self-commiseration at the various
campfires where the immigrants were despatching fried bacon and mountain
biscuit and drinking coffee. Mr. Matthieu says, however, that the
immigrants could not be blamed or called inhospitable for neglecting to
entertain them, as they knew as yet nothing of the trappers who had
joined their caravan, and every head of a family felt obliged to guard
his little store of provisions, scant at the best.
The incidents of the journey are vividly recalled by Mr. Matthieu,
though now after a lapse of fifty-eight years. These should be mentioned
here, some being serious and some being laughable, whether recorded
elsewhere or not, as they afford light upon the individuality of this
important member of the group of Oregon pioneers, of the era of the
provisional government.