THE HOLLOWAY MASSACRE.
It was decided that while in this region we would, whenever possible,
make our camp some distance from the river, in order that the stock
might be prevented from drinking the dangerous river water, also for
the reason that the clumps of willows by the stream could be used as a
cover by Indians bent on mischief: and they, we now believed, were
watching for a favorable opportunity to surprise us.
It transpired that the Holloway party neglected this precaution, at
least on one occasion, sometime after passing the head of the Humboldt
River. Their train was next behind ours when, on the evening of August
13th, after rounding up their stock for the night, a short distance
from the wagons, they stopped near the willows by the river and made
what proved to be their last camp.
Behind them, but not within sight, were several emigrant camps at
points varying from a few rods to half a mile apart.
The Holloway party retired as usual for the night; Mr. and Mrs.
Holloway and their child, a girl of two years, in a small tent near
the wagons; Jerry Bush, Mrs. Holloway's brother, and one of the hired
men, Joe Blevens, in their blankets on the ground; while Bird Lawles,
the other hired man, being ill with a fever, slept in a wagon.
There were others with this party that night; Mr. and Mrs. Callum, Mr.
Hattlebaugh, and a man whose name is now unknown. These four had been
traveling near the Holloway party, and joined it for camping on that
occasion.
The following morning Mr. Holloway was the first to arise. While
making the camp-fire, he called to the others to get up, saying
cheerfully:
"Well, we've got through one more night without a call from the
Redskins."
"Bang, bang," rang out a volley of rifle shots, fired from the willows
along the river, less than a hundred yards away.
Mr. Holloway fell, fatally shot, and died without a word or a
struggle. As other members of the emigrant party sprang to their feet
and came within view of the assailants, the firing continued, killing
Joe Blevens, Mrs. Callum, and the man whose name is not recalled;
while Bird Lawles, being discovered on his sick bed in a wagon, was
instantly put to death.
Meanwhile Jerry Bush grasped his rifle and joined battle against the
assassins. Thus far the savages remained hidden in the bushes, and
Jerry's shots were fired merely at places where he saw the tall weeds
and willows shaken by the motions of the Indians, therefore he has
never known whether his bullets struck one of the enemy.
While thus fighting alone, for his life and that of his people, he
received a gunshot in his side and fell. Knowing that he was unable to
continue the fight, and, though doubting that he could rise, he
endeavored to shield himself from the bullets and arrows of the Indian
band. He succeeded in dragging himself to the river bank, when,
seizing a willow branch, he lowered himself to the foot of the steep
cliff, some ten feet, reaching the water's edge. He then attempted to
swim to the opposite shore. The effort caused him to lose his gun, in
deep water. Owing to weakness due to his wound, he was unable to cross
the stream.
Jerry Bush's parting view of the camp had revealed the apparent
destruction of his entire party, except himself. Observing the body of
at least one woman, among the victims on the ground, he believed that
his sister also had been slain.
But Mrs. Holloway and the little girl were still in the tent, for the
time unhurt, and just awakened from their morning slumber. Having
realized that the camp was being attacked, Mrs. Holloway emerged from
the tent to find no living member of her party in sight, other than
herself and her child. For a moment she was partially shielded by the
wagons. The first object that drew her attention was her husband's
form, lying still in death, near the fire he had just kindled. Next
beyond was the dead body of Blevens, and a little farther away were
the remains of the others who had been slain. Her brother she did not
see, but supposed he had met the same fate as the others whom she saw
on the ground. Jerry was an experienced hunter; she knew that he
always owned a fine gun, and had full confidence that, if he were
alive and not disabled, he would defend his people to the last.
[Illustration: "With hand upraised, in supplication, yielded to the
impulse to flee"]
She saw some of the Indians coming from their ambush by the river.
They approached for a time with caution, looking furtively about, as
if to be sure there was no man left to defend the camp. As they drew
nearer Mrs. Holloway realized that she and her child were facing an
awful fate--death or captivity. On came the savages, now more boldly,
and in greater numbers.
The terrified woman, clothed only in her night robe, barefooted; not
knowing whether to take flight or stand and plead for mercy; with the
child on one arm, one hand raised in supplication, yielded finally to
the impulse to flee. As she started the attacking band resumed firing;
she was struck, by arrows and at least one bullet, and dropped
headlong to the ground.
Though conscious, she remained motionless, in the hope that, by
feigning death she might escape further wounds and torture. But the
Indians came, and taking the arrows from her body, punctured her flesh
with the jagged instruments, as a test whether physical sensation
would disclose a sign of life remaining. She lay with eyes closed; not
a muscle twitched nor a finger moved, while those demons proceeded, in
no delicate manner, to cut the skin around the head at the edge of the
hair, then tear the scalp from the skull, leaving the bare and
bleeding head on the ground.
Horrible as all this was, it did not prove to be the last nor the most
revolting exhibition of wanton lust for blood.
The little girl, who it is hoped had been rendered insensible at sight
of the cruelties perpetrated upon her mother, was taken by the feet
and her brains dashed out on the wheels of a wagon. To this last act
in the fiendish drama there was probably no witness other than the
actors in it; but the child's body, mangled too terribly for
description, and the bloody marks on the wagon, gave evidence so
convincing that there could not be a moment's doubt of what had
occurred.
The marauders now began a general looting of the wagons. Some of their
number were rounding up the stock, preparing to drive the cattle away,
when the trains of emigrants next in the rear appeared, less than half
a mile distant. This caused the Indian band to retreat. They crossed
the river, and then placing themselves behind the willows, hurried
away, making their escape into the mountain fastnesses. Owing to their
precipitous departure, much of the plunder they were preparing to take
was left behind them. Among the articles thus dropped by them was the
scalp of Mrs. Holloway, and the rescuing party found and took
possession of it.
Those emigrants who first came upon the scene found Mrs. Holloway
apparently dead; but, on taking her up, they saw that she was alive.
Though returning to semi-consciousness some time later, her condition
was such that she was unable to tell the story then; but there were
evidences showing plainer than words could have told of the awful
events of that morning, which had converted the quiet camp of this
happy, hopeful company into a scene of death and destruction.
Before noon a large number of people of the great emigrant procession
had arrived. They united in giving to the dead the best interment that
the circumstances permitted. Then the broken and scattered effects of
the Holloway company were gathered up, and the now mournful trains
took position in the line of pilgrimage and again moved forward
towards the Pacific.
Mr. Fennell, aided by Captain Rountree's company and others, attempted
to save such of the Holloway property as had not been carried off or
destroyed. They were successful in recovering about one hundred of the
one hundred and fifty head of stock which the Indians had endeavored
to drive away. Two mules that were being led off by ropes broke away
from the savage band and returned, but the emigrants did not recover
any of the stolen horses.
Jerry Bush found his way back to the scene. His injury, though
apparently of a dangerous character, did not delay the relief parties
more than a day after the attack, and the wound healed within a few
weeks. It was reported that Callum and Hattlebaugh had escaped, but
their further whereabouts was not known.
Captain Rountree took charge of Mrs. Holloway and her brother and
brought them, with such of their stock and other belongings as
remained, to The Meadows, on the Feather River. After partially
recuperating there, an uncle, Mr. Perry Durban, came to their aid, and
they were taken to Suisun. After full recovery from his wound, Jerry
Bush located in Ukiah, and resided there some years. He still
survives, now a resident of Hulett, Wyoming, at the ripe age of eighty
years.
The slaughter of the Holloway party occurred at a point on the
Humboldt River some thirty miles east of where Winnemucca is located,
a few miles west of Battle Mountain. This becomes apparent by careful
estimates of distance traveled per day, rather than by landmarks noted
at the time, there being no settlements there, nor elsewhere along the
route, at that time.
[Illustration: Jerry Bush, 1914]
It was perhaps a year later when I went to a camp-meeting one Sunday,
at Mark West Creek, in Sonoma County, California. The people attending
a service were in a small opening among trees. Standing back of
those who were seated, I saw among them a woman whose profile seemed
familiar, and later I recognized her as Mrs. Holloway.
My interest in her career, due to her extraordinary part in the Indian
massacre on the plains, was heightened by the fact that I had known
her previously, as the daughter of Mr. Bush, a prosperous farmer, and
had been present when she married Mr. Holloway, in a little
schoolhouse, near Rockport, Atchison County, Missouri. It seemed a
natural impulse which prompted me to ask her for particulars of the
tragedy, so disastrous to herself and her family; though later there
were misgivings regarding the propriety of doing so.
Mrs. Holloway appeared at that time to be in good health, and was
cheerful, possessing perfect control of her faculties. Her head was
covered by a wig, made of her own hair, taken from the scalp that was
recovered at the scene of the massacre.
All the heartrending experiences that she had endured were imprinted
upon her mind in minutest detail, and she related them in the exact
order of their occurrence. The recalling of the terrible ordeal,
however, so wrought upon her emotions that she wept, to the limit of
mild hysteria, which brought our conversation to a close, and soon
thereafter she left the place.
I saw her no more; but learned sometime afterwards that her health
failed, then of the giving away of her mental powers, and still later
of her death, at Napa City; caused primarily by shock, and brooding
over the misfortunes she had met on the bank of the Humboldt River.
[Illustration: Mrs. Nancy Holloway, 1857]
It is difficult to believe that a woman, any woman--or any man--could,
in a state of consciousness, endure such torture as was inflicted upon
Mrs. Holloway, and refrain from disclosing to her tormentors that
she was alive. But that she did so endure was her positive statement,
and this was indisputably corroborated by evidences found by those who
arrived at the scene less than an hour after the event.
Through the kindness of Mr. William Holloway, of Fairfax, Missouri,
there is presented here a picture of Mrs. Nancy Holloway, wife of
Smith Holloway. The photograph was taken in California, shortly after
the attack described.