_Whitman Joins the Great Immigrating Column. The News of the Safe
Arrival in Oregon, and its Effects Upon the People. The Part
Taken by Dr. Whitman, and Oregon's Importance to the Nation. The
Great Political Contest. The Massacre._
The great immigration of 1843 to Oregon had called out wide attention
from the thinking people all over the land. Congressmen in Washington
began to hear from the people; still, in both houses of Congress were
heard mutterings of "the desert waste" and "dangers of expansion."
Lawmakers have a way of listening to the voices of men who make
lawmakers, and they heard it on the Oregon question. President Tyler
was true to his pledge to Whitman, and if there ever was a thought on
the part of Webster to barter off Oregon, it was never heard of
again. A great political party saw in it a popular national issue,
and emblazoned upon their banners "Oregon and 54' 40° or fight!"
Nobody ever before or since saw such a political upheaval and
somersault. The issue elected both a President and a Congress.
President Tyler was unwilling to let all the glory of it go to his
political enemies, and in his closing message, gave large place to
the importance of Oregon! The incoming President James K. Polk gave
about one-fourth of his entire message to the Oregon question.
Such was the status of the question within a year and a half after
Whitman's great ride.
The question was up to England, and the western boundary of the
United States, which had been so easily settled in 1842, by
compromising on a few farms in Maine, had to move westward from its
fixed place in "the great Stony Mountains," or war was imminent.
England, as well as America, was aroused, and she sent over her
experienced minister plenipotentiary Packingham. James Buchanan
represented the United States, and they began their great task
without delay. We no longer heard the old congressional cry of "No
value in Oregon." Both nations saw great issues at stake, and keen
and prolonged negotiations resulted. It was a battle royal between
experienced diplomatists. Now, please note a prominent fact, this
demand to settle the national dispute began in 1844, and it was not
until April, 1846, that the treaty was signed, after most laborious
efforts.
I wish to impress upon my readers the importance of dates in this,
for they emphasize and make clear the timely acts of Whitman. In less
than seven months the United States declared war against Mexico, and
California was at stake. Suppose England could have foreseen that
event, and the nine hundred million dollars of pure gold mined in
California and Oregon, during the following ten years, would she have
signed the treaty even in 1846? When did that great nation ever allow
such a golden opportunity to pass without reserving tribute? Had
England been given more time and more thorough knowledge, there is
scarcely a doubt but that she would have tenaciously held to Oregon.
It would have been easy for her to have joined hands with Mexico, and
if so, had the United States held any of her present Pacific
possessions, it would have been after a long and desolating war, in
which the United States would have been at a great disadvantage, from
its small navy at that time.
_"I Must Go Now"_
You will recollect when Dr. Whitman's old friends at the mission
conference recited to him the dangers of such a trip, and said "Wait
until spring," he simply and solemnly replied "_I must go now._" The
plain facts of history are the keys that explain that answer! It
would not have done "to wait until spring." In all the sacred record,
dealing with men's duties, the command is "go," "do," not to-morrow,
not next year, but "now." Whitman made no boast to his
fellow-missionaries of any inspiration, but they were of the class of
men who could understand and appreciate his acts. In the glow of
light from history, every thoughtful Christian can read their deeper
meaning.
No, it would have been all too late had he waited to pilot that great
immigration of 1843. No reader can but know, upon the safety of that
band of immigrants, the fate of Oregon was dependent for years to
come. Had another great Donnelley disaster come to them, and they had
perished, who knows when another would have followed? No, it would
not do to "wait until spring." It even then, with an awakened people,
required two years to get England's consent to sign the treaty. Then,
having Oregon we wanted and needed California. More reason still,
great perils were in front, and less than a dozen years later, the
existence of the Union was in danger. With the gold of California and
Oregon, and the three great loyal states behind the flag, it is easy
to see the timeliness of the act, and the immensity of the danger
from delay, _not only to Oregon, but to the nation_.
Some may say, "this is only a supposable case," and it would be
true, but the facts are that England, through her Hudson Bay Company,
had virtually owned and controlled Oregon for nearly half a century,
from 1818 up to the day Whitman started upon his great ride,
altogether with the official sanction of the American people. There
can scarcely be a doubt in regard to it, for reasons before stated,
that England expected to continue to hold it all, or at least a large
portion of it. Those who shout no danger are blind to historic facts.
Had England at the date mentioned owned Oregon, or any part of it, it
is reasonably certain she would have thrown her great influence with
the South in that terrible struggle in 1861-1865, when "cotton was
king," and when it required all the eloquence of America's greatest
orators, backed up by many of England's wisest statesmen, to prevent
England at the most critical period of the struggle, "acknowledging
the belligerent rights of the South."
Old Glory floats to-day from ocean to ocean, and from lakes to the
Gulf the men once at war are at peace: "the gray" and "the blue" have
since marched and fought under the same flag, and have rejoiced
together alike in its achievements.
[Illustration: THE ASSASSINATION OF DR. WHITMAN.]
The brave pioneers of Oregon, without waiting for authority of
Congress, raised the American flag, organized a territorial
government, elected officials to make and execute laws, and from 1843
to 1848, without the aid of Congress, by a single official act, they
carried on the government as becomes good citizens of the Republic.
True, there were murmurings in Congress as of old, but they were only
half-hearted, and half in earnest. The final signing of the treaty in
1846 was the doom, however, of the regime of England in Oregon.
_England in its Saddle_
She did not wait for signatures to the treaty to set on foot an
inquiry, as to the loss of Oregon, or who was responsible for it, and
how this great immigration from the states had originated. The
English company forthwith sent a commission, made up of Messrs. Peel,
Park, and Wavaseur, to Oregon, to learn all the facts. When they
reached there they had an easy task, for both Englishmen and
Americans understood the matter.
When Whitman and Spalding, with their wives, caught up with the
convoy of fur-traders, in that memorable journey in 1836, one of the
old voyageurs who had felt the iron hand of the Hudson Bay Company,
sententiously remarked, as he pointed his finger at the two American
women, "There is something the royal Hudson Bay Company and its
masters can't drive out of Oregon!" And it proved true prophecy. We
have already noted the courtesy and kindness with which Dr. John
McLoughlin, the chief factor, received the missionaries. The London
officials soon learned that they had to deal with but one man, and he
was in their power.
If that interview between the doctor and these eminent Englishmen,
who had grown great and rich through his management, could be fully
reported, it would doubtless make interesting reading. However modern
historians may differ as to the cause of the sudden large immigration
of Americans to Oregon, the commissioners from London had no doubt
upon the subject. They made the direct charge that it was due to
McLoughlin's over-kindness to the missionaries, that had he treated
them as he did the American traders, such conditions would not have
existed. It mattered not that the good old doctor knew that the
charge was substantially true, and yet he arose in righteous
indignation, and replied:
"What would you have? Would you have me turn a cold shoulder on
the men of God, who came to do for the Indians, that which this
company had ever neglected to do? If we had not helped them, and
the immigrants of '42 and '43, Fort Vancouver would have been
destroyed, and the world would have treated our inhuman conduct
as it deserved. Every officer of the Company, from governor down,
would have been covered with obloquy and the business ruined."
This conference was about one year and eight months before the
signing of the treaty, and the English people and the Hudson Bay
Company, while worried over the situation, still had small fear of
losing the entire country. They felt sure of at least owning, upon
final settlement, all north of the Columbia River. They still
expected to undo the work of the man who had for more than a quarter
of a century been coining them fortunes, and they promptly turned him
adrift, and appointed his successor.
After the treaty was signed, in 1846, and came fully into American
possession, the great monopoly continued to show its modesty, and
sent in a bill of damages to the United States for $4,950,036.17, of
which amount the United States paid in cash $650,000. Then the
Company "squatted" upon one of our islands some six miles from shore,
raised the English flag, and the United States had another siege
lasting thirty years, with threatened war, before the question, "who
owns San Juan Island?" was left to the arbitration of the emperor of
Germany, who, in 1875, decided in favor of the United States. With
this brief history we dismiss the Hudson Bay Company from our further
concern, except to note its humane act, in the prompt rescuing of the
captive women and children, after the massacre. Still there is
another good thing that should be said of the Hudson Bay Company.
Under the rule of Dr. McLoughlin "the great white head chief," the
Indians over so large a district were never before so well and wisely
ruled. They obeyed his orders as promptly as loyal subjects to their
king. The desire in these pages has been to do no injustice, or make
unfair criticism. There are "trusts" and "monopolies" in the United
States to-day even more selfish than the Hudson Bay Company. The
English people were not usurpers in Oregon. They only accepted and
used for the first half of the nineteenth century, with the full
official consent of the American people, one of our great
possessions, which we had marked as "worthless." It is well to bear
such facts in mind, and thus allow the mischief done, as well as the
good attained, to rest where it belongs.
_Whitman on the March and at the Mission_
"Who led the great immigration of 1843 safely to Oregon?" has often
been a subject of discussion.
Upon the safety of that band was that of Oregon dependent. Whitman
was not the captain of the caravan, but he was the one man in the
cavalcade who had been three times over the route. In that day there
was not a guide-book in existence, and he, with General Lovejoy (who
had been over this route once, and that from Fort Hall twice), was
relied upon by captain, guide, and people for advice and direction.
It is easy to see the important place he held.
Perhaps no man among the pioneers of Oregon was better qualified to
tell of Whitman's services than was the Honorable Jesse Applegate,
who was a member of the expedition, and for many years after, one of
the most honored citizens of Oregon.
In a great oration, delivered before the State Historical Society of
Oregon, in 1876, he calls Dr. Whitman the "good angel of the
immigration." In closing his address, after noting many eminent men
and their good work, he said:
"Now, I will intrude no other name of that noble band but that
devoted man, Dr. Marcus Whitman. His stay with us was transient,
but the good he did was permanent. From the day he joined us on
the Platte, his indomitable energy was of priceless value to the
migrating column, and it is no disparagement to any individual to
say, that to no other man are the immigrants of 1843 so deeply
indebted for a successful conclusion of their journey as to Dr.
Whitman."
Dr. Spalding, who was present at the Whitman Mission when the
immigrants reached there, says:
"Hundreds of the immigrants stopped at Waiilatpui to take Whitman
by the hand, and many with tears in their eyes, acknowledged
their obligations for his untiring labor and skill, which brought
them in safety over the weary way."
Whitman was not a politician in the sense the term is generally
used, but only a few months before his death he rode on horseback to
Oregon City to induce his old friend Judge Thornton to visit
Washington and try to persuade the authorities to organize a
territorial government in Oregon. The Judge accepted, and was on that
mission at the time of the massacre at Waiilatpui (November 29,
1847).
_The Massacre_
Whitman was a tireless worker. Frequently, after toiling all day in
his fields or upon his buildings, he spent long hours of the night on
the rounds to visit his sick; yet he did not fail to see the bad
influences used upon the Cayuse Indians.
They feared him and his influence. There had been mutterings of
discontent among the Cayuse Indians; too many whites were coming in.
There was much sickness among the Indians; the measles had prevailed;
with their unsanitary living and barbarous treatment of the sick many
had died. They laid it all to the white settlers, and blamed those
who encouraged and helped them. Good old Istikus, their faithful
Indian friend of many years, had warned them that some of his people
had bad hearts toward them, and begged them to go away until their
hearts were good again. But how could they go. On the fatal morning
when the conspiracy was brought to execution, seventy people were in
the mission station, mostly women, children, and sick men worn out by
long travel and exposure. It was two hundred and fifty miles to Fort
Vancouver by trail or in open boats down the Columbia River. That was
the only place of safety, and they could not leave all these people,
nor could they take them. Moreover, Whitman still had faith in his
Indians, which was partly justified by the facts, as it was proved
that no Cayuse could quite bring himself to strike the first blow.
But they found one more treacherous who was ready to take the Judas
part in the tragedy. He was called Joe Tahamas, a half-breed
Canadian, who had come to the mission station several months before
hungry, sick, and half-clad. As their custom was they took him in,
clothed, fed, and nursed him back to health again. After a time they
found him fomenting quarrels among their people, and stirring up
their evil passions in various ways. They finally procured him a
place as teamster to go to the Willamette River, and hoped their
troubles with him were ended. He had returned, and from after
evidence, had no doubt been going through the tribe, and with a lying
tongue rousing the Indians to a mad passion against their friends and
benefactors. Some distant chief of the tribe had armed him with what
was known as "The Charmed Tomahawk." It had long before been
presented to them by the warring Sioux, in some great peace talk, and
was to bring them victory and good fortune wherever it was used.
After the massacre at Waiilatpui and the war following, with the
banishment and partial destruction of their tribe, "The Charmed
Tomahawk" became "Bad Medicine." No one wished to keep it, but with
the old superstition of a living spirit in everything, they feared to
destroy it, lest some greater punishment should fall upon them, and
it passed from one to another as they would receive it.
_The Charmed Tomahawk_
An Indian agent, named Logan, learned the story and purchased it, as
we may believe, for but a small sum. During the Civil War, in an
auction sale for the benefit of The Sanitary Commission, the hatchet
with its story was sold for a hundred dollars, and was presented to
the legislature of Oregon. It has finally lodged among the treasured
relics of the Oregon Pioneer Association in Portland, where it will
doubtless be seen by many during the coming summer. The 29th of
November, 1847, the fatal morning dawned that ended the career of the
devoted missionary band gathered on the Walla Walla. The Doctor no
doubt with a heavy heart, after all his warnings, went out on his
round of duty, to look after the farm and stock, to visit the sick,
and supply any wants of the emigrants camped about them. Returning to
the house, he sat down in his office before his desk and was reading
with John Sager, one of his adopted boys seated by his side. An
Indian came in, saying he was sick and wanted some medicine. While
his attention was engaged by him, Tahamas stole silently in, armed
with "The Charmed Tomahawk," and with one blow on the back of the
head, crushed in the skull, and the poor Doctor sank unconscious to
the floor, though he lived for several hours after. The brave boy by
his side, drew a small pistol from his pocket, and attempted to shoot
the murderer, but was struck down with the same weapon and
immediately killed. The Indians then left the house, where there were
only women and children, to join the great company gathering outside
and find the unarmed men scattered about the place. Two of these
badly wounded made their way back to the house, and barred doors and
windows as best they could to protect the helpless ones inside. Only
four men made their escape unharmed to carry the news to Fort
Vancouver and ask for help. Mr. Spalding, one of their fellow
missionaries, was on his way, and near Waiilatpui, when the massacre
occurred. His little daughter was in Mrs. Whitman's school, a witness
of the whole bloody tragedy, and afterward one of the captives,
carried away by the Indians. From her descriptions, and that of
others who lived to tell the tale, he wrote a full description of the
tragic scenes to the parents of Mrs. Whitman. It is needless to say
they were too terrible to repeat in detail. Still it is well to know
how the heroic wife met death, still giving her thought and life for
others. She and one of the young women had carried the body of her
dying husband to a private room, and she was kneeling by his side,
when the host of savages returned to the house. Maddened like wild
beasts with the sight of blood, they tore the weak bars from doors
and windows, and with savage war-whoops entered the house. Their
superstitions prevented them from entering the death chamber, but
they began looting the house and threatening to kill the women and
children, whose frantic cries added terror to the scene. It was then
the heroic wife left the side of her dying husband, and her safe
retreat, going from one to another trying to comfort and soothe them.
As she walked past a window, a bullet struck her in the breast; she
grasped the window-sill to keep from falling, and recognized her
murderer as Tahamas, for whom she had done so much. She exclaimed,
"Oh, Joe, is it you!" It was like the dying cry of Cæsar, when he
saw his old-time friend in the mob about him, "Thou, too, Brutus!"
and a sharper pang than her wound gave entered that tender heart. She
was carried back to her room. A few hours later the Indians sent word
to her that if she would come out they would not harm her, but would
go away after they had seen her. She was then too weak from loss of
blood to walk, but she asked Mr. Rogers, one of their helpers, and
Miss Beulah, a friend, to carry her into the next room, where the
Indians had gathered. They had hardly entered it when a volley of
shots were fired, and both she and Rogers were pierced by many balls.
Some one now in authority gave an order not to shoot the women and
children. The little ones were all gathered in one corner, witnessing
the whole terrible scene, but one Indian more humane picked up some
blankets and screened it all from their view. One of the men, a guest
at the mission, raised a board in the floor and hid himself, wife,
and three children beneath. They suffered agony in their
imprisonment, with the blood of the murdered ones trickling through
the floor upon them. On a visit to Walla Walla and out to the old
mission farm, two years ago, we met a very intelligent and
interesting lady, who, in the course of conversation, told us that
she was one of the three children hidden under the floor during that
terrible day and that she was then but a little child the remembrance
had never left her, nor could she see an Indian without a shudder.
The Indians went at their work leisurely, and seemed anxious to
prolong the torture. They knew it was two hundred and fifty miles to
Vancouver, and they had no fear of molestation from any other source.
For five days they kept up their orgies, guarding against escape of
their victims. At the end of that time they began to be anxious for
their own safety, and gathering the women and children, forty in
number, they started for a friendly tribe to wait for developments.
[Illustration: D. K PEARSONS, M. D., LL. D]
Runners were sent in haste to Fort Vancouver telling of the disaster,
and Chief Factor Ogden of the Hudson Bay Company lost no time in
starting for the scene with twenty picked men, boats and provisions.
Upon reaching Waiilatpui they found everything in ruins, the houses
wrecked, the mill burned, and the dead bodies of eleven men, one boy,
besides the bodies of Dr. and Mrs. Whitman. These were all tenderly
gathered and buried together, in what has been called ever since "the
Great Grave." In the mean time Chief Ogden had sent runners after the
Indians, with a peremptory order to return all the captive women and
children to him at once, to Fort Walla Walla. For many years the
Indians had been accustomed to obey orders from this source, and
they thought it wise now to comply; besides they soon began to find
the helpless captives a burden to feed. Chief Ogden assured them he
would pay them a handsome ransom if all were brought in safely. One
or two of the chiefs, who were enamored of the young women, insisted
they should be allowed to keep them in captivity and make them their
wives. It required strategy, threats, and promise of larger reward
before that trouble was overcome. All were finally brought in, except
three delicate children, one the adopted child of the doctor, and two
others, who perished from exposure. Ogden gave the Indians blankets,
powder, lead, and other articles they demanded, to the value of five
hundred dollars, and all were conveyed to Fort Vancouver, and places
of safety.
Four men only escaped the massacre. One of these was Dr. Spalding. He
was on his way to visit the doctor on business, and to see his little
daughter, who was a pupil in Mrs. Whitman's school. When nearing the
station he met one of the Jesuit priests, who told him of the
disaster. He immediately retraced his steps, fully expecting a like
work at his own mission. He reached home the second night in a dazed
condition. His Nez Perces, when they heard of it, rallied around him
some five hundred of their bravest warriors, and escorted Dr. and
Mrs. Spalding quickly to a place of safety. Their little daughter
Eliza, nearly ten, was rescued and returned to them.
_Cayuse Thought the Flurry Over_
The Cayuse received their presents and seemed to think their work was
over. In this they were mistaken. The hardy old pioneers of Oregon,
who loved and honored Dr. and Mrs. Whitman, arose as one man, and in
winter, without tents or proper equipments, moved down upon the
Cayuse country. I do not intend to burthen my readers with the story
of a long, desolating Indian war. It was a bloody and savage contest,
where General Phil H. Sheridan was initiated into active military
life and won his first honors.
The leaders in the massacre, Tilcokait, Tahamas, Ouichmarsum,
Klvakamus, and Sichsalucus were arrested and hung at Oregon City,
just before the author reached there. In 1850 one of the most
miserable of the villains, Tarntsaky, was killed while being
arrested. My room-mate in Oregon in 1850, the late Samuel Campbell of
Idaho, spent the winter and spring of 1847 at the Whitman Mission,
and never tired in telling of the lovely Christian character of Mrs.
Whitman, of her kindness and patience to whites and Indians alike.
She had retained the same glorious musical voice, and life wherever
she went was filled with what Matthew Arnold would call "sweetness
and light." Mr. Campbell said while he was a prisoner at Grand Ronde,
old Tarntsaky one day boasted in his presence that he took the scalp
from Mrs. Whitman's head, and told him of the long, golden, silky
hair. He said, "Prisoner as I was, it was all I could do to keep my
fingers from his throat." The many tribes around sided with the
Cayuse, except the Nez Perces, and the whole land was closed to white
settlers for over ten years, as the state government deemed it
impossible to protect the scattered settlements.
_The Result_
The final result was that the tribes engaging in the war were all
removed to distant reservations, and forty thousand square miles of
rich territory were opened to settlement. Thus the great sacrifice
resulted for the good of the people. The work of the American Board
in sending missionaries to Oregon has sometimes been called "a
disaster" and "failure." Was it? What could have been grander work
for any Christian man than Whitman's brave part in saving the whole
great territory to the Union? Patriotism is a part of Christianity,
and an important part. That man is a feeble Christian who does not
love his home and fatherland.
The American Board never claimed, or received, a moiety of the reward
deserved, because of its poor estimate of the great work done at
that time by its servants. Well did Dr. Frank Gunsaulus say:
"Marcus Whitman was more to the ulterior Northwest than John
Harvard has ever been to the Northeast of our common country."
Two names which shine brightest upon the pages of English history are
Dr. Robert Livingstone and Dr. John McKenzie, both missionaries, and
both poor men. Their eminent services were along much the same lines
as those of Dr. Whitman--services to the whole people and the nation.
Dr. McKenzie made three trips to London before he could persuade the
English authorities to plant their flag over Bechuanaland, the flower
and wealth of all South Africa. But how England and English people
have ever since loved to do honor to both these noble men! Dr.
Whitman, by his eminent and heroic service, laid the American people
under as great a debt of gratitude, and I simply point to facts
already narrated to sustain that position. Have the people of the
United States done their simple duty to its noble martyrs?
_The Benefits to the Indians_
As to the benefits from the missionaries to the Indians themselves
eternity alone will reveal how little or how much good was conferred.
The
Cayuse was a trading tribe of Indians, and were almost as
unscrupulous in their dealings as Wall Street is to-day. Dr. Whitman
had hard uphill work in changing their customs. Yet many of the
Cayuse became Christians. Old Istikus was a prince among Christian
men, savage as he was. For sixteen years after the death of his loved
friends, he regularly went to the door of his wigwam, rang the old
mission bell, and invited all to come in to prayers. General Joel
Barlow, who was one of the commissioners after the treaty of peace in
1855, to settle the Indians upon their reservations, says:
"I found forty-five Cayuse and one thousand Nez Perces who have
kept up regular family worship, singing from the old hymn books,
translated into their language by Mrs. Spalding. Many of them
showed surprising evidences of piety."
The most successful of the missions, as far as good to the Indians
was concerned, was doubtless that of Mr. and Mrs. Spalding among the
Nez Perces. They were the friends and companions of Dr. and Mrs.
Whitman on that long wedding journey over plains and mountains. They
were pushed far out in the wilderness by the Hudson Bay Company in
what is now eastern Washington, and the Spokane country near where
the city of that name is located. They were gentle, kind, and
self-sacrificing, and perhaps were fortunate in being so isolated.
The Indians received them and their message kindly, and soon there
were many sincere and earnest Christians among them. A small
printing-press was sent them from Honolulu that had become
insufficient for their work there. Mrs. Spalding translated the Book
of Matthew, some psalms, hymns, and a few school books, into the Nez
Perces language, and they printed them with their little hand-press.
It is said that, now after sixty years have passed, they still have
some of them that are carefully treasured relics. They have never
engaged in wars, remain in the lands of their fathers, are farmers
and stock raisers, have churches and schools, and are respected by
their white neighbors. One little touch of nature lingers with them
still, one will often see an Indian teepee or wigwam in the yard or
some place near a comfortable house. Doubtless the father often goes
there to smoke his pipe in peace and comfort. Mr. Spalding lived to
be an old man, and told and wrote much of the early life of the
missions.
In these chapters we have purposely avoided discussing the motives
which led up to the massacre. There have been many charges not fully
sustained, that have caused ill feeling and done harm. But it is
undoubtedly true that Dr. Whitman's activity to help settle Oregon
with Americans was the direct cause of the great disaster. Dr.
McLoughlin was driven from office for no other reason than his
kindness to the missionaries that made Whitman's ride possible. Just
as certainly Dr. and Mrs. Whitman perished because they loved the
flag and all it represented, and were brave enough to express it by
heroic acts whose results would not be misunderstood by the enemies
of the republic. There is good evidence that Dr. Whitman understood
the perils of his mission before entering upon it, but in such a
character fear played a small part when confronted by duty.