1850-4. The Territorial law of Oregon combined the offices of Governor
and Indian Agent. One of the most important acts which marked Lane's
administration was that of securing and punishing the murderers of Dr.
and Mrs. Whitman. The Indians of the Cayuse tribe to whom the murderers
belonged, were assured that the only way in which they could avoid a war
with the whites was to deliver up the chiefs who had been engaged in the
massacre, to be tried and punished according to the laws of the whites.
Of the two hundred Indians implicated in the massacre, five were given
up to be dealt with according to law. These were the five chiefs,
_Te-lou-i-kite_, _Tam-a-has_, _Klok-a-mas_, _Ki-am-a-sump-kin_, and
_I-sa-i-a-cha-lak-is_.
These men might have made their escape; there was no imperative
necessity upon them to suffer death, had they chosen to flee to the
mountains. But with that strange magnanimity which the savage often
shows, to the astonishment of Christians, they resolved to die for their
people rather than by their flight to involve them in war.
Early in the summer of 1850, the prisoners were delivered up to Gov.
Lane, and brought down to Oregon City, where they were given into the
keeping of the marshal. During their passage down the river, and while
they were incarcerated at Oregon City, their bearing was most proud and
haughty. Some food, more choice than their prisoner's fare, being
offered to one of the chiefs at a camp of the guard, in their transit
down the Columbia, the proud savage rejected it with scorn.
"What sort of heart have you," he asked, "that you offer food to me,
whose hands are red with your brother's blood?"
And this, after eleven years of missionary labor, was all the
comprehension the savage nature knew of the main principle of
Christianity,--forgiveness, or charity toward our enemies.
At Oregon City, Meek had many conversations with them. In all of these
they gave but one explanation of their crime. They feared that Dr.
Whitman intended, with the other whites, to take their land from them;
and they were told by Jo Lewis, the half-breed, that the Doctor's
medicine was intended to kill them off quickly, in order the sooner to
get possession of their country. None of them expressed any sorrow for
what had been done; but one of them, _Ki-am-a-sump-kin_, declared his
innocence to the last.
In conversations with others, curious to gain some knowledge of the
savage moral nature, _Te-lou-i-kite_ often puzzled these students of
Indian ethics. When questioned as to his motive for allowing himself to
be taken, _Te-lou-i-kite_ answered:
"Did not your missionaries tell us that Christ died to save his people?
So die we, to save our people!"
Notwithstanding the prisoners were pre-doomed to death, a regular form
of trial was gone through. The Prosecuting Attorney for the Territory,
A. Holbrook, conducted the prosecution: Secretary Pritchett, Major
Runnels, and Captain Claiborne, the defence. The fee offered by the
chiefs was fifty head of horses. Whether it was compassion, or a love of
horses which animated the defence, quite an effort was made to show
that the murderers were not guilty.
The presiding Justice was O.C. Pratt--Bryant having resigned. Perhaps we
cannot do better than to give the Marshal's own description of the trial
and execution, which is as follows: "Thar war a great many indictments,
and a great many people in attendance at this court. The Grand Jury
found true bills against the five Indians, and they war arraigned for
trial. Captain Claiborne led off for the defence. He foamed and ranted
like he war acting a play in some theatre. He knew about as much law as
one of the Indians he war defending; and his gestures were so powerful
that he smashed two tumblers that the Judge had ordered to be filled
with cold water for him. After a time he gave out mentally and
physically. Then came Major Runnels, who made a very good defence. But
the Marshal thought they must do better, for they would never ride fifty
head of horses with them speeches.
Mr. Pritchett closed for the defence with a very able argument; for he
war a man of brains. But then followed Mr. Holbrook, for the
prosecution, and he laid down the case so plain that the jury were
convinced before they left the jury-box. When the Judge passed sentence
of death on them, two of the chiefs showed no terror; but the other
three were filled with horror and consternation that they could not
conceal.
After court had adjourned, and Gov. Lane war gone South on some business
with the Rogue River Indians, Secretary Pritchett came to me and told me
that as he war now acting Governor he meant to reprieve the Indians.
Said he to me, 'Now Meek, I want you to liberate them Indians, when you
receive the order.'
'Pritchett,' said I, 'so far as Meek is concerned, he would do anything
for you.'
This talk pleased him; he said he 'war glad to hear it; and would go
right off and write the reprieve.'
'But,' said I, 'Pritchett, let us talk now like men. I have got in my
pocket the death-warrant of them Indians, signed by Gov. Lane. The
Marshal will execute them men, as certain as the day arrives.'
Pritchett looked surprised, and remarked--'That war not what you just
said, that you would do anything for me.'
Said I, 'you were talking then to Meek,--not to the Marshal, who always
does his duty.' At that he got mad and left.
When the 3d of June, the day of execution, arrived, Oregon City was
thronged with people to witness it. I brought forth the five prisoners
and placed them on a drop. Here the chief, who always declared his
innocence, _Ki-am-i-sump-kin_, begged me to kill him with my knife,--for
an Indian fears to be hanged,--but I soon put an end to his entreaties
by cutting the rope which held the drop, with my tomahawk. As I said
'The Lord have mercy on your souls,' the trap fell, and the five Cayuses
hung in the air. Three of them died instantly. The other two struggled
for several minutes; the Little Chief, _Tam-a-has_, the longest. It was
he who was cruel to my little girl at the time of the massacre; so I
just put my foot on the knot to tighten it, and he got quiet. After
thirty-five minutes they were taken down and buried."
Thus terminated a tragic chapter in the history of Oregon. Among the
services which Thurston performed for the Territory, was getting an
appropriation of $100,000, to pay the expenses of the Cayuse war. From
the Spring of 1848, when all the whites, except the Catholic
missionaries, were withdrawn from the upper country, for a period of
several years, or until Government had made treaties with the tribes
east of the Cascades, no settlers were permitted to take up land in
Eastern Oregon. During those years, the Indians, dissatisfied with the
encroachments which they foresaw the whites would finally make upon
their country, and incited by certain individuals who had suffered
wrongs, or been punished for their own offences at the hands of the
whites, finally combined, as it was supposed from the extent of the
insurrection, and Oregon was involved in a three years Indian war, the
history of which would fill a volume of considerable size.
When Meek returned to Oregon as marshal, with his fine clothes and his
newly acquired social accomplishments, he was greeted with a cordial
acknowledgment of his services, as well as admiration for his improved
appearance. He was generally acknowledged to be the model of a handsome
marshal, when clad in his half-military dress, and placed astride of a
fine horse, in the execution of the more festive duties of marshal of a
procession on some patriotic occasion.
But no amount of official responsibility could ever change him from a
wag into a "grave and reverend seignior." No place nor occasion was
sacred to him when the wild humor was on him.
At this same term of court, after the conviction of the Cayuse chiefs,
there was a case before Judge Pratt, in which a man was charged with
selling liquor to the Indians. In these cases Indian evidence was
allowed, but the jury-room being up stairs, caused a good deal of
annoyance in court; because when an Indian witness was wanted up stairs,
a dozen or more who were not wanted would follow. The Judge's bench was
so placed that it commanded a full view of the staircase and every one
passing up or down it.
A call for some witness to go before the jury was followed on this
occasion, as on all others, by a general rush of the Indians, who were
curious to witness the proceedings. One fat old squaw had got part way
up the stairs, when the Marshal, full of wrath, seized her by a leg and
dragged her down flat, at the same time holding the fat member so that
it was pointed directly toward the Judge. A general explosion followed
this _pointed_ action, and the Judge grew very red in the face.
[Illustration: MEEK AS UNITED STATES MARSHAL.]
"Mr. Marshal, come within the bar!" thundered the Judge.
Meek complied, with a very dubious expression of countenance.
"I must fine you fifty dollars," continued the Judge; "the dignity of
the Court must be maintained."
When court had adjourned that evening, the Judge and the Marshal were
walking toward their respective lodgings. Said Meek to his Honor:
"Why did you fine me so heavily to-day?"
"I _must_ do it," returned the Judge. "I must keep up the dignity of the
Court; I must do it, if I pay the fines myself."
"And you _must_ pay all the fines you lay on the marshal, of course,"
answered Meek.
"Very well," said the Judge; "I shall do so."
"All right, Judge. As I am the proper disbursing officer, you can pay
that fifty dollars to me--and I'll take it now."
At this view of the case, his Honor was staggered for one moment, and
could only swing his cane and laugh faintly. After a little reflection,
he said:
"Marshal, when court is called to-morrow, I shall remit your fine; but
don't you let me have occasion to fine you again!"
After the removal of the capital to Salem, in 1852, court was held in a
new building, on which the carpenters were still at work. Judge Nelson,
then presiding, was much put out by the noise of hammers, and sent the
marshal more than once, to request the men to suspend their work during
those hours when court was in session, but all to no purpose. Finally,
when his forbearance was quite exhausted, he appealed to the marshal for
advice.
"What shall I do, Meek," said he, "to stop that infernal noise?"
"Put the workmen on the Grand Jury," replied Meek.
"Summon them instantly!" returned the Judge. They were summoned, and
quiet secured for that term.
At this same term of court, a great many of the foreign born settlers
appeared, to file their intention of becoming American citizens, in
order to secure the benefits of the Donation Law. Meek was retained as a
witness, to swear to their qualifications, one of which was, that they
were possessed of good moral characters. The first day there were about
two hundred who made declarations, Meek witnessing for most of them. On
the day following, he declined serving any longer.
"What now?" inquired the Judge; "you made no objections yesterday."
"Very true," replied Meek; "and two hundred lies are enough for me. I
swore that all those mountain-men were of 'good moral character,' and I
never knew a mountain-man of that description in my life! Let Newell
take the job for to-day."
The "job" was turned over to Newell; but whether the second lot was
better than the first, has never transpired.
During Lane's administration, there was a murder committed by a party of
Indians at the Sound, on the person of a Mr. Wallace. Owing to the
sparse settlement of the country, Governor Lane adopted the original
measure of exporting not only the officers of the court, but the jury
also, to the Sound district. Meek was ordered to find transportation for
the court _in toto_, jury and all. Boats were hired and provisioned to
take the party to the Cowelitz Landing, and from thence to Fort
Steilacoom, horses were hired for the land transportation.
The Indians accused were five in number--two chiefs and three slaves.
The Grand Jury found a true bill against the two chiefs, and let the
slaves go. So few were the inhabitants of those parts, that the marshal
was obliged to take a part of the grand jury to serve on the petite
jury. The form of a trial was gone through with, the Judge delivered his
charge, and the jury retired.
It was just after night-fall when these worthies betook themselves to
the jury-room. One of them curled himself up in a corner of the room,
with the injunction to the others to "wake him up when they got ready
to hang them ---- rascals." The rest of the party spent four or five
hours betting against monte, when, being sleepy also, they waked up
their associate, spent about ten minutes in arguing their convictions,
and returned a verdict of "guilty of murder in the first degree."
The Indians were sentenced to be hung at noon on the following day, and
the marshal was at work early in the morning preparing a gallows. A rope
was procured from a ship lying in the sound. At half-past eleven
o'clock, guarded by a company of artillery from the fort, the miserable
savages were marched forth to die. A large number of Indians were
collected to witness the execution; and to prevent any attempt at
rescue, Captain Hill's artillery formed a ring around the marshal and
his prisoners. The execution was interrupted or delayed for some
moments, on account of the frantic behavior of an Indian woman, wife of
one of the chiefs, whose entreaties for the life of her husband were
very affecting. Having exhausted all her eloquence in an appeal to the
nobler feelings of the man, she finally promised to leave her husband
and become his wife, if he, the marshal, would spare her lord and chief.
She was carried forcibly out of the ring, and the hanging took place.
When the bodies were taken down, Meek spoke to the woman, telling her
that now she could have her husband; but she only sullenly replied, "You
have killed him, and you may bury him."