How the country was saved to the United States.—Article from the New York Evening Post.—Ingratitude of the American Board.—Deposition of Elam Young.—Young girls taken for Indian wives.—Statement of Miss Lorinda Bewley.—Sager, Bewley, and Sales killed.

In taking up our morning Oregonian of November 16, 1866, our eye lit upon the following article from the New York Evening Post, which we feel assured the reader will not regret to find upon these pages, and which will explain the desperate efforts made to secure this country to the United States by Dr. Whitman, the details of whose death we are now giving from the depositions of parties upon the ground, who were eye-witnesses and fellow-sufferers at the fall of that good and noble man whose labors and sacrifices his countrymen are at this late day only beginning to appreciate. We ask in astonishment: Has the American Board at last opened its ears, and allowed a statement of that noble martyr’s efforts to save Oregon to his country to be made upon its record? It has! it has! and here it is:—

“We presume it is not generally known to our citizens on the Pacific coast, nor to many people in the Atlantic States, how near we came to losing, through executive incompetence, our just title to the whole immense region lying west of the Rocky Mountains. Neither has due honor been accorded to the brave and patriotic man through whose herculean exertions this great loss and sacrifice was prevented.

“The facts were briefly and freshly brought out during the recent meeting at Pittsburg of the ‘American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions,’ in the course of an elaborate paper read by Mr. Treat, one of the secretaries of the Board, on the ‘Incidental Results of Missions.’

“In the year 1836 the American Board undertook to establish a mission among the Indians beyond the Rocky Mountains. Two missionaries, Rev. Mr. Spalding and Dr. Whitman, with their wives,—the first white women who had ever made that perilous journey,—passed over the mountains with incredible toil, to reach Oregon, the field of their labor. After remaining there for a few years, Dr. Whitman began to understand the object of the misrepresentations of the Hudson’s Bay Company. He saw, contrary to the reiterated public statements of that company—

“1. That the land was rich in minerals.

“2. That emigrants could cross the Rocky Mountains in wagons, a feat which they had constantly asserted to be impossible.

“3. That the Hudson’s Bay Company was planning to secure the sole occupancy of the whole of that country, by obtaining a surrender of the American title into the hands of the British government.

“Seeing these things, but not knowing how very near the British scheme was to its accomplishment, Dr. Whitman resolved, at every hazard, to prevent its consummation. He undertook, in 1842, to make a journey on horseback to Washington, to lay the whole matter clearly before our government by personal representations. Being a man of great physical strength and an iron constitution, he accomplished the long and perilous journey, and reached Washington in safety. The remainder of the story we will relate in the language of the Boston Congregationalist: Reaching Washington, he sought an interview with President Tyler and Daniel Webster, then Secretary of State, and unfolded to them distinctly what was going on. Here he learned that a treaty was almost ready to be signed, in which all this northwestern territory was to be given up to England, and we were to have in compensation greater facilities in catching fish. Dr. Whitman labored to convince Mr. Webster that he was the victim of false representations with regard to the character of the region, and told him that he intended to return to Oregon with a train of emigrants. Mr. Webster, looking him full in the eye, asked him if he would pledge himself to conduct a train of emigrants there in wagons. He promised that he would. Then, said Mr. Webster, this treaty shall be suppressed. Dr. Whitman, in coming on, had fixed upon certain rallying-points where emigrants might assemble to accompany him on his return. He found nearly one thousand ready for the journey. After long travel, they reached Fort Hall, a British military station, and the commandant undertook to frighten the emigrants by telling them that it was not possible for them to go through with wagons; but Dr. Whitman reassured them, and led them through to the Columbia, and the days of the supremacy of the Hudson’s Bay Company over Oregon were numbered.”

Twenty-four years after that noble, devoted, faithful servant and missionary of theirs had received a cold reproof, after enduring one of the severest and most trying journeys of several thousand miles, his Board at home, and unreasonably cautious associates in Oregon have consented to acknowledge that they owe to him a debt of respect for doing, without their consent or approval at the time, a noble, patriotic, and unselfish act for his country.

And how shall we regard the cold indifference they have manifested to the present day, in regard to the infamous manner in which his life, and the lives of his wife and countrymen were taken, and the continued slanders heaped upon their names? Have they asked for, or even attempted an explanation, or a refutation of those slanders? Their half-century volume speaks a language not to be mistaken. Mr. Spalding, his first and most zealous associate, attempted to bring the facts before the world, but the caution of those who would whitewash his (Dr. Whitman’s) sepulcher induced Mr. Spalding to give up in despair,—a poor broken-down wreck, caused by the frightful ending of his fellow-associates, and of his own missionary labors.

Is this severe, kind reader, upon the Board and a portion of Dr. Whitman’s associates? We intend to tell the truth if it is, as we are endeavoring to get the truth, the whole truth, and as few mistakes as possible in these pages. Therefore we will copy another deposition relative to this massacre.

Deposition of Mr. Elam Young.

I met Dr. Whitman on the Umatilla, about the 1st of October, 1847. He engaged me to build a mill for him at his mission. As the lumber was not handy at the station, I moved up to the saw-mill to do a part of the work there.

Some time in November, my son James, who was teaming for the Doctor, went from the saw-mill with a load of lumber for the mission station, and was to return with provisions for us. This was on Tuesday after the murder. Shortly after he had gone away, Mr. Smith, who was also at the saw-mill, appeared to be very uneasy; stated repeatedly that he was sure something had happened to him; said he had a constant foreboding of some evil; stated that Dr. Whitman was abusing the children at the mission, as he had understood by Stanfield; frequently spoke against Dr. Whitman. The next Sunday, beginning to feel uneasy, I sent my second son Daniel down to the station, who returned on Monday and brought the news of the massacre. It instantly struck my mind that the Catholic priests had been the cause of the whole of it. This conviction was caused by repeated conversations with Dr. Whitman, together with my knowledge of the principles of the Jesuits. Mr. Smith observed at the same time that we must all be Jesuits for the time being. Soon after Daniel returned, three Indians came up and told us we must go down to the station, which we accordingly did the next day. When we got there it was after night; we found that Crockett Bewley and Amos Sales had both been killed that day. The women told us that they had told the Indians, before we came down, that we were English, and we must not contradict it. The Indians soon began to question whether I was English. I told them I was of English parents, but born in the United States.

A few days after we got there two young women were taken as wives for the Indians, which I opposed, and was threatened by Mr. Smith, who was very anxious that it should take place, and that other little girls should be given up for wives. Was employed while there in making coffins and grinding for the Indians.

While there, Miss Bewley was taken off to the Umatilla. Tried to comfort her as much as I could, believing she would be safer there at the Catholic station than where we were. First ten days we were constantly told that the Catholics were coming there to establish a mission. Heard that Mr. Ogden had come up to Wallawalla to rescue us from the Indians. Went to grinding and preparing provisions for our journey. Smith and Stanfield, who appeared to be very friendly with each other, had the management of the teams and loading, took the best teams and lightest loads, gave us the poorest teams and heaviest loads. On the way to Wallawalla they drove off and left us. The hindmost teams had to double in the bad places. Reached the fort perhaps half an hour after Smith and Stanfield had; met Smith at the gate, who says: “Well, you have got along?” “Yes.” “It is well you did, for the Indians found out that you were not an Englishman, and were determined to have your scalp.” I asked him, “How do you know this?” to which he made no reply. Went into the fort and met Mr. McBean and the priest; supposed they would all rejoice at our escape, but their manner was very cold and distant. But Mr. Ogden greeted us cordially. The next day the Indians came into the fort in considerable numbers, and their actions were suspicious, and Mr. McBean seemed to interest himself very much in our behalf, and told us to be very quiet and to keep in our own rooms, and be careful what we said, as the very walls had ears. [If this does not show the sneaking dog, what does? Ogden is apparently all friendship, and McBean is all caution to the captives.]

We arrived on Monday, and Mr. Spalding on Saturday after, and the next day all took boat for the lower country.

Q.—Did your son give you any caution as to what to say when you reached the station.

A.—He said Stanfield said we must say the Doctor poisoned the Indians.

Q.—What did you learn about Mr. Rogers as having made a confession.

A.—Stanfield said that Mr. Rogers had made a confession that the Doctor had poisoned the Indians. I replied, “Who knows this?” He said Mrs. Hays and Mrs. Hall heard it. I afterward asked Mrs. Hays if she did hear it. She replied, “We must say so now.” I afterward, at the station, told Stanfield he had better not mention that to Americans, for there was not one from Maine to Georgia that would believe it. He replied, “We must say so.” I told him I never would.

Q.—What conversation with the Doctor led you to believe the Catholics were at the bottom of the whole of it?

A.—That some years before (1841) he had had difficulty with the Indians, and he had found out satisfactorily where it came from, by charging the Indians of having been made jealous of a certain man. I do not recollect the name, but I think he said he was from Canada, and the Indians acknowledged it. [The difficulty here spoken of was about the horses given as a present to Rev. Jason Lee, on his way to Wallamet. The Indians had been told by the company’s interpreter, old Toupin, that he had as good as stolen their horses, as he made them no presents in return, and they were encouraged to make that a cause of difficulty with Dr. Whitman.] At that time they had knocked off his hat, etc., but other Indians would obey him and pick it up, and so long as they would obey, he was satisfied of his safety; but this had long since passed off. [The writer was present, and saw the whole performance here alluded to, the particulars of which are given elsewhere]. And they were never in a better state until of late, when a body of priests and Jesuits had come in, and were constantly saying in their ears that this sickness came on them by the Americans; that the Americans were a very bad people, that the Good Being had sent on them as a punishment.

Q.—Why did Mr. Smith appear anxious to have the young women given to the Indians?

A.—I do not know, unless to appease them, and get their affection.

Q.—Did the Doctor appear to wish to remain, against the wish of a majority of the Indians?

A.—I heard him say repeatedly, if the Indians wished him to leave he would, but a large majority said he must not, and he thought the times would soon change. I understood him to expect a change from the extension of government.

Q.—Did your son Daniel say any thing, before you moved from the saw-mill, of having cautioned C. Bewley for speaking unadvisedly before Joe Stanfield?

A.—Yes, he gave that; that amounts to the same as he has given in his statement.

Q.—Did you have any fears, while at the station, that Mr. Smith was liable, had the circumstances become more dangerous, to act with the Indians?

A.—Certainly I did.

Q.—Did you get any reason why Bewley and Sales were killed?

A.—Though I did not get it directly from them, the Indian account was, the great chief at the Umatilla said their disease would spread; but I believe it was because Bewley had spoken before Stanfield unadvisedly.

(Signed,)
Elam Young.

Sworn and subscribed to before me, this 20th day of January, 1849.

G. W. Coffinbury, Justice of the Peace.

What shall we say of these depositions, and the facts asserted under the solemnity of an oath, the witnesses still living, with many others confirming the one fact, that Roman priests and Hudson’s Bay men, English and Frenchmen, were all safe and unharmed in an Indian—and that American—territory, while American citizens were cut down by savage hands without mercy? Can we regard the conduct of such men in any other light than as enemies in peace? Without the aid of religious bigotry and the appeal to God as sending judgments upon them, not one of those simple-minded natives would ever have lifted a hand to shed the blood of their teachers or of American citizens. We see how faithful and persevering Joe Lewis, Finlay, and Stanfield were in their part, while the bishop and his priests, and Sir James Douglas, at Vancouver, were watching at a distance to misrepresent the conduct of the dead, and excuse and justify their own instruments, as in Mr. Douglas’s letters to Governor Abernethy and the Sandwich Islands; and Vicar-General Brouillet’s narrative, with more recent proceedings, which are given in another chapter.

We intended to give in this connection the account of this tragedy as given by Vicar-General Brouillet, but it accords so nearly with that given by Sir James Douglas in his Sandwich Islands letter to Mr. Castle, that the impression is irresistibly forced upon the mind that the whole account is prepared by one and the same person; hence we will not encumber our pages with more than a liberal amount of extracts, sufficient to show the full knowledge of the bishop and his priests of what was expected to take place at the Whitman station, and the brutal and inhuman part they took in forcing Miss Bewley into the arms of Five Crows, after that Indian was humane enough to permit her to return to the house of those, that Mr. Young, and all others who were ignorant of their vileness, might naturally suppose would be a place of safety from such treatment. She that was Miss Bewley is now dead, but she has left on record the statement of her wrongs. We give it a permanent place in our history, not to persecute or slander the Jesuit fraternity (for truth is no slander), but to warn Americans against placing their daughters and sons under any such teachings or influences.

Statement of Miss Lorinda Bewley.

Q.—What time did the massacre commence?

A.—I think half-past one.

Q.—Who fled to the chamber?

A.—Mrs. Hall, Mrs. Hays, Mrs. Whitman, Mr. Kimball, Mr. Rogers,—the three last wounded,—myself, Catharine Sager, thirteen years of age, her sisters Elizabeth, Louisa, and Henrietta, the three half-breed girls,—Miss Bridger, Mary Ann, and Helen,—last four very sick. After we got into the chamber the Indians broke in the windows and doors, filled the house and broke down the stair-door. Mr. Kimball advised to attempt the appearance of defense at the stairway. Mrs. Whitman and Mr. Rogers said, let all prepare for death. I found an old gun, and it was held over the staircase by Mr. Rogers. They appeared cool and deliberate in ordering all to prepare for death, when they were breaking up the house. The appearance of the gun appeared to check the Indians from coming up-stairs. A few words passed between Mr. Rogers and one of the Indians. Mr. Rogers said, “The Indians wish me to come down.” Mrs. Whitman objected at first; some words passed between Mrs. Whitman and Mr. Rogers about his going down which I do not recollect; finally Mrs. Whitman took his hand and said, “The Lord bless you; go!” and he went nearly to the bottom of the stairs, but his head was all the time above the stairs; he was not there longer than two or three minutes. A few words passed between them, but I did not understand the language. Mrs. Whitman said, “The Indians say you have guns and want to kill us.” Mr. Rogers says, “No, you wish to get us down to kill us.” This seemed to be all they talked about. Mr. Rogers says to Mrs. Whitman, “Shall we let them come up?” Mrs. Whitman says, “Let one, Tamsaky, come up.” Tamsaky came up and shook hands with us all, and spoke and advised us all to go down and go over to the other house, for the young men would burn the house; he led the way down while the Indians were hallooing wildly in the room below, but when we had got down, the Indians had gone out and were very still. While we were up-stairs the Doctor’s face had been cut awfully to pieces, but he was yet breathing. Mrs. Whitman saw him and said she wanted air; they led her to the settee and she lay down. She appeared to think then, that we were going to be spared, and told us to get all the things from the press we needed. I put a blanket I had over her, and got a sheet for myself, and we put a good many clothes from the press on the settee; Mrs. Hall and Mrs. Hays got their arms full also. Mr. Rogers was going to take us over to the other house, and then come back for the sick children. This was Tamsaky’s advice, as he said the Indians were going to burn the house. It was now getting dark. Mr. Rogers and Joe Lewis carried out the settee, over the bodies of the Doctor and John Sager, which were dreadfully mangled; they passed through the kitchen, and through the outside door toward the end of the house occupied as the Indian room. Here, to our surprise and terror, the Indians were collected, with their guns ready; the children from the school were huddled in the corner of the building. When the settee had gone about its length from the door, Joe Lewis dropped the end he was holding and the guns were immediately fired. Mr. Rogers had only time to raise his hands and say, “O my God, save me,” and fell. I felt my fingers numb till next morning, from a ball that passed so near as to sting them. Mrs. Whitman received two balls when on the settee.

I could not see what was done at the same time on all sides of me. On turning round I saw Francis Sager down bleeding and groaning. The children said an Indian hauled him out from among them and Joe Lewis shot him with a pistol. Mr Rogers fell down by my feet and groaned loud. All three appeared in great agony, and groaned very loud. The Indian women were carrying off things, and the Indians were shouting terribly; the Indians also started and cut Mrs. Whitman’s face with their whips and rolled her into the mud. [This treatment of Mrs. Whitman will be explained in the statement of Stikas, as given from Mr. McLane’s journal.] At this I attempted to escape to the other house. One of the Indians from Mrs. Whitman caught me,—I had run about two rods,—when I screamed and he shook his tomahawk over my head, and I kept screaming, not knowing that he wanted me to hush; then a great many others came round, and pointed their guns and shook their hatchets. I finally discovered they wanted me to be still, and when I was silent, one of them led me by the hand over to the mansion.

Q.—Was Mr. Rogers wounded when he started into the house?

A.—Yes; shot through the arm and tomahawked in the head.

Q.—Did Mr. Rogers have any interview with the Indians after he got in until the one on the stairs?

A.—No. As soon as he got in the house was locked, and none got in after that till we were all up-stairs, when they broke the doors and windows.

Q.—Did the Indians have an interview with Mr. Rogers after the one on the stairs, up to the time he was shot?

A.—No; the Indians were not in the room, except Tamsaky and Joe Lewis, and we were all very still and Mr. Rogers was all the time in my sight, except as I stepped to the bed for the sheet, and I was very quick.

Q.—Did you hear it reported that Mr. Rogers said he overheard Dr. and Mrs. Whitman and Mr. Spalding talking at night about poisoning the Indians?

A.—No; but after being taken to Umatilla, one of the two Frenchmen said that the Indians’ talk was that an Indian who understood English overheard such conversation.

Q.—Did you consider Mr. Rogers and Mrs. Whitman were meeting their fate like devoted Christians?

A.—Yes.

Q.—When did the priest arrive?

A.—Wednesday, while the bodies were being prepared for the grave. The bodies were collected into the house on Tuesday evening.

Q.—Did the Indians bury a vial or bottle of the Doctor’s medicine?

A.—They said they did. Joe Stanfield made the box to bury it in, and the Indians said they buried it.

Q.—Why did they bury it?

A.—They said the priests said it was poison. Stanfield and Nicholas were their interpreters to us.

Q.—How did they obtain this vial?

A.—The Indians said the priests found it among the Doctor’s medicines, and showed it to them, and told them if it broke it would poison the whole nation.

Q.—Was there much stir among the Indians about this bottle?

A.—Yes, a great deal.

Q.—Why did the Indians kill your brother?

A.—Edward Tilokaikt returned from the Umatilla, and told us (after they had killed him) the great chief told them their disease would spread.

Q.—Did your brother make any effort to escape?

A.—He told me the night before he was killed that he was preparing to make an effort to escape. I told him he must not, he was not able to walk. He said he had that day agreed with Stanfield to get him a horse, and assist him away. I said, “What will become of me?” He said, “I know you have been greatly abused, and all I care for my life is to get away, and make an effort to save you; but I may be killed before to-morrow at this time, but, if it is the Lord’s will, I am prepared to die.” This was Monday, a week from the first massacre. About three o’clock the next day my brother and Mr. Sales were killed, and I have always thought that Joe Stanfield betrayed them.

Q.—Did the Indians threaten you all, and treat you with cruelty from the first?

A.—They did.

Q.—Did they on Tuesday assemble and threaten your lives?

A.—Yes, and frequently threatened our lives afterward. (See statement of Stanfield by Brouillet, in a previous chapter, confirming the fact of his unbounded influence over the Indians.)

Q.—When were the young women first dragged out and brutally treated?

A.—Saturday night after the first massacre, and continually after that.

Q.—When were you taken to the Umatilla?

(Miss Bewley will answer this question after we have given Vicar-General Brouillet an opportunity to state his part in this tragedy.)