goldfields

“Saturday, 5th. Started early to get clear of our red visitors. Descried a large herd of buffalo on the opposite side of the river–saw several boats descending the river, laden with fur, robes, etc. They belonged to the American Fur Company–one of our Company, E. Stone, returned with them.

The latter part of the day was very inclement, high winds, dark clouds rushed in wild confusion around and above us. Soon with amazement we saw a lofty waterspout, towering like a huge column to support the arch of the sky; and while we were moving with all haste, lest it should pass over us and dash our wagons to pieces, it moved off with the swiftness of the wind and was soon lost among the clouds. Rain & hail succeeded, the largest hailstones I ever saw. Several were found, an hour after the sun came out bright & warm, larger than a turkey egg.”

Tornadoes, hailstorms, and wild weather are nothing new to the Great Plains, but this was the first time Bidwell had seen weather quite so spectacular.

“Friday, 4th. Half past six this morning saw us on the march. The valley of the river was here about 4 miles wide. Antelope were seen in abundance. A young man (Dawson) was out hunting, when suddenly a band of Cheyenne Indians about 40 in number came upon him; they were pleased to strip him of his mule, gun, and pistol, and let him go. He had no sooner reached the camp and related the news than the whole band came in sight. We hastened to form a corral with our wagons, but it was done in haste. To show you how it affected the green ones, I will give the answer I received from a stout, young man (and he perhaps was but one of 30 in the same situation), when I asked him how many Indians there were. He answered with a trembling voice, half scared out of his wits, there are lots, gaubs, fields and swarms of them!!! I do really believe he thought there were some thousands. Lo! there were but 40, perfectly friendly, delivered up every article taken, but the pistol.”

Nicholas Dawson was ever after this incident known in the company as “Cheyenne,” to distinguish him from the other Dawson in the company, V. W. Dawson, called “Bear.” He left his own account of the incident. The guide, Thomas Fitzpatrick, had warned them not to stray beyond sight of the wagon train, but in following an antelope herd Dawson had wandered out of sight. Suddenly he was accosted by the band of Cheyenne, who forced him to dismount and, in his words, “seized my gun and knife, stripped me of my outer clothing, and taking my mule, left me.”

Dawson ran back to the wagon train, told his story, and Fitzpatrick and a few men on horseback set out to find the Indians.

“I was very angry now, and intent on vengeance, so hastily borrowing a horse and gun, I hurried after the party. I came on at full speed and was aiming at the first Indian within range, when I was stopped by some forcible language from Fitzpatrick, and perceived that Fitzpatrick and the Indians were engaged in a friendly powwow. It had proved to be a band of Cheyennes, friendly but thievish. They camped near us that night, and Fitzpatrick attempted to get back my property. He and I and the Indians sat around in a circle, and for every article to be returned, gifts of blankets, clothes, etc. had to be thrown down, a peace pipe smoked by all, and much haranguing done. Fitzpatrick’s patience gave out before all was got back, and declaring that I ought to be satisfied to have got off with my life, he refused to intercede further.”

Seems to me that it was a good thing all around that the Bidwell-Bartleson Party had joined up with the missionaries and their guide, Fitzpatrick. Otherwise they would have all been dead on the prairie within a month from their misadventures.

“June. Tuesday, 1st. This morning we hastened to leave our miserable encampment and proceeded directly north, we reached Big Platte river about 12 o’clock. The heat was uncommonly oppressive. . . . This afternoon we had a soaking shower, which was succeeded by a heavy hailstorm.”

The Rev. Williams wrote of this weather “At 2 o’clock commenced a most tremendous bad storm, with wind, which blew down most of the tents, accompanied with rain and lightning and thunder almost all night. I slept but little, the ground being all covered with water. That night dreadful oaths were heard all over the camp ground. O the wickedness of the wicked!” Poor Rev. Williams found it very trying to travel “in the midst of an ignorant and hard-hearted people.”

Bidwell continues his journal entry: “Wonderful! This evening a new family was created! Isaac Kelsey was married to Miss Williams, daughter of R. Williams. The marriage ceremony was performed by the Rev. Pr. Williams, so we now have five families, if we include a widow and child.”

Miss Winifred Williams was the daughter of Richard Williams and his wife, whose name is not recorded. Isaac Kelsey, who was also known as Zedidiah, was one of the four Kelsey brothers on the trip. He and Samuel went to Oregon, and Benjamin and Andrew went to California. Isaac was born in 1818, making him one year older than John Bidwell, and 22 or 23 years old when he married on the trail. Very little else is known about the young couple and their further adventures.

“Wednesday, 26th. Two wagons were broke today; about a dozen Pawnees came to our camp, stopped to repair the wagons, having come about 15 miles. . . . A man by the name of Williams, a Methodist preacher, overtook the company this evening on his way to Oregon Territory. He had not arrived in time to start with the company from the settlements, and had traveled entirely alone, without any gun or other weapon of defense, depending wholly on Providence for protection and support.”

The Rev. Joseph Williams was 64 years old in 1841 when he set out to visit the missionaries in Oregon. That made him the oldest member of the Bidwell-Bartleson Party. He left a short record of his experiences on the trail entitled “Narrative of a Tour from the State of Indiana to the Oregon Territory in the Years 1841-2.”

Williams was greatly disappointed when he reached Westport, the starting point, and found that the company had already left. When he was told that he had only missed them by three days, he set off to catch up. On the 26th he rode across the prairie, “happy in my soul,” until about 4 o’clock, when he spotted the company a few miles ahead. He stopped to feed his horse, then traveled on and by evening he joined the company. They told him how narrowly he had missed being captured by Indians. Williams didn’t seem particularly surprised, for he was confident that God was watching over him.

“Wednesday, 19th. This morning the wagons started off in single file; first the 4 carts and 1 small wagon of the missionaries, next 8 wagons drawn by mules and horses, and lastly, 5 wagons drawn by 17 yoke of oxen. . . . Our course was west, leaving the Kanzas no great distance to our left, we traveled in the valley of the river which was prairie excepting near the margin of the stream. The day was very warm and we stopped about noon, having traveled about 12 miles.” (Bidwell-Bartleson Party, p. 28-29)

The missionaries were led by Father Jean Pierre De Smet, a Belgian Jesuit who spent many years working among the American Indians. In 1841 he was on his way, with two other priests and three lay brothers, to minister to the Flathead Indians. He established St. Mary’s Mission on the Bitterroot River near Missoula, Montana. Bidwell described him as follows:

“He was genial, of fine presence, and one of the saintliest men I have ever known, and I cannot wonder that the Indians were made to believe him divinely protected. He was a man of great kindness and great affability under all circumstances; nothing seemed to disturb his temper.” (Echoes of the Past, p. 114)

More information on Father De Smet can be found in this article from the Catholic Encyclopedia: http://oce.catholic.com/index.php?title=Pierre-Jean_de_Smet

I had a good time speaking to the Chico Friends of the Library last night. I have been a member for many years, and always have enjoyed hearing the speaker at the annual meeting—I remember Steve Brown, Roger Aylworth, and Michelle Stover, among others. And now it was my turn!

On this date in 1841, what later became known as the Bidwell-Bartleson Party was ready to roll. Bidwell wrote in his journal:

“Having waited at this place (2 miles W. of Kanzas river) 2 days, and all the Company being arrived . . . the Company was convened for the purpose of electing a Captain and adopting rules of government of the Company; when T. H. Green was chosen President–and J. Bidwell, Secretary.” (Bidwell-Bartleson Party, p. 28)

Bidwell did indeed spell Kansas that way, but then that’s the way it sounds. Talbot H. Green was an interesting character. To begin with, his name was not Green, but Paul Geddes. As a bank clerk in Pennsylvania he had embezzled $8,000 from the bank and then headed west, abandoning his wife and four children. After tending a dying Englishman on a steamboat on the Mississippi River, he adopted the dead man’s name and began passing himself off as Talbot H. Green. (Shades of “What was your name in the States?”!)

Green had a successful career as a businessman in California during the 1840’s. By 1851 he was living in San Francisco, where he was considered a trustworthy and generous pillar of the community. He married again (bigamously) and had a son. He had served on the city council and decided to run for mayor. But this prominence was his undoing. He was recognized on the street by a man who had known him in Pennsylvania as Paul Geddes. Although he denied it, it was the end of his career in San Francisco. He returned East, spent a number of years in Tennessee and Texas, and finally lived out the last years of his life back in his hometown with his first wife. (If you ask me, this story would make a pretty good movie.)