[From the New York Herald,
1873; story by Edward Fox]
Camp on Lava Beds, April 14, 1873.
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hree days have now elapsed since the massacre of General Canby
and Dr. E. Thomas, and, as to-morrow we go take action, I write this in case
any stray shot might prevent my giving a detailed account of this most heartless
and treacherous act. In some such instances the brutal and treacherous nature of
the Indian has been passed over and his deeds of blood laid to the account of
ignorance; but here no such palliation can be offered, as the Modoc Indians are
far above the average in intelligence, having associated freely for the past
ten years with the whites. The knowledge of civilization which they have
obtained has, however, only rendered them more dangerous, and I do not scruple
to say that they are one of the worst bands of Indians in the United States.
I have followed very closely the negotiations that have passed
between the Peace Commissioners appointed by the government and these Indians
and, although at one time I was inclined to believe they were peaceably
disposed, I am now assured that the insolent manner in which they carried
themselves, the result of their fight on the 17th January, could only be destroyed
by a sound thrashing. They felt like a victorious army, and received the
friendly offers of the government as a victorious people would treat the
solicitations of their vanquished foes. On the occasion of my visits to their
stronghold I always found them talking of the late fight—how one of their men
had defended a line of rocks two miles in length; how their little band had
whipped three hundred soldiers without losing a man, when the soldiers lost some
forty killed and wounded. They always said, “If the soldiers go away we will
stop where we are and shoot no man; but if soldiers want more we will give them
all they want.” To tell them that more soldiers were coming only made their eyes
glisten, as if the thought flashed across their minds, “all the more to kill.” Thomas
at that time was of the opinion that Captain Jack was tired of fighting and
would make peace, but I freely acknowledge that the surrounding settlers, such
as Fairchild and Dorris, and the [wives] of the men Whittle and Riddle, always
held to the opinion they would fight rather than leave Lost River.
In a letter written some time ago I stated that the fiend
incarnate of these Modocs, Boston Charley, who had been acting as a kind of
courier and spy for Captain Jack, had arranged in behalf of the Modocs to
accept the terms then offered by General Canby to go to Angel Island until a
reservation had been selected for them in some distant county. In pursuance of
this treaty he asked for three or four wagons to come and meet them at Klamath
Lake, on the Monday following, at noon. He said General Canby and the members
of the Peace Commission might come, but no soldiers. On the Sunday evening
Tobe, Riddle’s [Modoc wife], came to General Canby and beseeched him not to go,
saying it was a plot among the Indians to massacre them all and secure the
horses out of the teams. Both Generals Canby and Gillem, Mr. Elijah Steele and
numbers of others, including your correspondent, laughed at the idea of such a
thing, and both Riddle and his [wife] were looked upon as playing a double
game. Mr. Steele accompanied the wagons to the appointed place; but no Indians
came in sight, probably thinking that by exercising a little patience they
would get a better haul. At the time nothing was thought of it, but now I feel
assured that the Indians meant treachery.
Again, when I remained with Dr. Cabaniss at one of their
picket stations, while Captain Jack and five others of the tribe had a talk
with General Canby and General Gillem, they objected to leaving their guns
before going to talk, and although they finally conceded that point they
managed to smuggle their pistols with them. I believed then they meant
treachery, but, on afterthought, concluded it would be better to wait for some
of the Peace Commission.
After we arrived at this camp there were several meetings
between the Peace Commission and the Indians, and, although Messrs. Meacham and
Dyar both distrusted the intentions of the Modocs, General Canby and Dr. Thomas
felt confident that no treachery was intended. For over a week not a day passed
by without one or more Modocs coming into camp, ostensibly to talk, but in
reality to beg and trade with the sutler. They brought in their feathers and
sold them to the sutler for clothing, calicoes, soap, matches and other
articles. Food they got in plenty, as General Canby was too kind-hearted to
refuse any of their demands for food, and they generally returned to their camp
each carrying a bag full of provisions. Boston Charley was in nearly every day,
and was in the habit of making his headquarters in General Canby’s tent. His
talks with General Canby and Mr. Meacham generally resulted in his getting a
couple of blankets from them ostensibly to cover some sick Indian of their
tribe.
The day before the massacre Boston Charley and Bogus Charley
both came into camp and made arrangements for the meeting of the succeeding
day. They arranged to meet at a spot about half a mile from our camp, near the
edge of the second inlet on the lake. Two meetings had been held on the same
spot, and a wall tent was kept pitched on the ground, so as to give shelter in
case of rain. This little flat, covered with bunch grass and loose scoria, that
has since become notorious as the scene of the massacre, was hid from our camp
by some intervening rolling and broken ground, but was in full view of the
signal station on the bluff, at our backs.
Early Friday morning, the day of the massacre, Tobe, Riddle’s [wife],
came to Mr. Meacham and beseeched him not to go out, as she was certain the Indians
meant to kill them. She said that the last time she had been in their camp on a
message William, Wild Gal’s man, ran alongside of her horse as she was leaving
and told her that the Modocs were talking bad, and meant to kill all the men at
the next talk. Mr. Meacham then went to General Canby and the other
Commissioners and told them this story, but neither General Canby nor General
Gillem nor Dr. Thomas would put any credence in the statement. Mr. Dyar felt
somewhat like Mr. Meacham, and said that he could not see what Tobe had to gain
by lying on such a subject. General Canby said that he looked at the matter in
another light, and could not see how the Indians would help their case by murdering
them, with so many troops on each side of them; it would be only precipitating
a war which they were anxious to avert.
Mr. Meacham then called John Fairchild and asked him to sound
Bogus Charley and see if he could find anything out of him. Fairchild had a
long talk with Bogus, getting quietly at the point, but could get no more
information. Bogus asked Fairchild if he was going out with the Commissioners,
and, receiving an answer in the negative, then said everything would be all
right; “Captain Jack hurt no one.” When Dr. Thomas heard the story he went to
Bogus, an Indian to whom he had taken rather a fancy, and asked him if there
was anything in the story, and, very naturally, Bogus denied it, saying it was
a squaw yarn. Dr. Thomas then said he was satisfied that the Indians meant no
treachery, and that he should go, as he felt certain that the God in whom he
trusted would guard over him while he went on such [a] mission.
After some reluctance and with evident misgivings as to the
result, Messrs. Meacham and Dyar consented to go, and the party were preparing
to start when Riddle called them all into General Gillem’s tent and said:—“Gentlemen,
I want you to hold me blameless if any harm comes to you to-day, as I feel
confident that the Modocs mean no good. They will not shoot me because I am
married to one of their tribe, but I greatly fear they have treacherous
intentions.” Generals Canby and Gillem rather laughed at his fears, and the
party finally started on their mission, from which two never came back alive. Just
before leaving, Boston Charley asked Mr. Dyar’s permission to tie a bag of
provisions on his horse, a favor which was granted. The party consisted of
General Canby, Dr. Thomas, Boston and Bogus Charley, on foot, and Mr. Meacham, Mr.
Dyar, Riddle and his [wife], Tobe, on horseback. General Gillem did not go, as
he was on the sick list, having been in the doctor’s hands for the past three
days.
They all walked quietly towards the rendezvous and arrived
there without any incident of importance occurring, but it was noticed that
Boston Charley stopped behind them a little and looked about, as if to see that
there were no soldiers about. General Canby and the Peace Commissioners, when
they arrived at the tent, were shortly afterwards joined by Captain Jack, John
Schonchin, Shack Nasty Jim, Hooker Jim, Ellen’s Man and Black Jim. The party
finally sat down in a kind of broken circle. General Canby sat facing the west,
with Mr. Meacham on his left. Dr. Thomas sat to the left of Mr. Meacham, a
little back, and adjoining him were Riddle and his [wife]. Captain Jack sat
nearly opposite General Canby, with Schonchin, Black Jim and Ellen’s Man on his
left, and on his right were Mr. Dyar, Shack Nasty Jim, Hooker Jim and Boston
Charley. Mr. Dyar was standing alongside of Jack during the conference, holding
his horse, and Mr. Meacham’s was tied a little in his rear. Bogus Charley was
not sitting down, but kept moving about in a restless manner.
Mr. Meacham opened the talk with a long speech, in which he
told the Indians how anxious he was to arrange a peace with them, so that the
President would be pleased and there would be no more fighting. He told them
how difficult it was to get a place where they could live unmolested in this
section of the country, and that it would be better for them to decide upon
going some distance, where they would be away from the Oregonians, who wished
to annoy them. Mr. Meacham spoke for nearly half an hour, after which General
Canby talked, telling them not to be afraid of the soldiers; they were their friends
and would not hurt them. He also told them how the President wished all his
children, Indians and whites, to be at peace and not fighting with one another.
Nothing could have been kinder than his speech to these savages, and the kind
old gentleman talked to them as if they had been his own children. Captain Jack
and Schonchin then spoke to the effect that they wanted the soldiers sent away,
and then they would make peace and take a reservation on Cottonwood, Hot Creek
or Willow Creek, in the country that they knew and where they had lived many
years. Dr. Thomas then talked in his kind, quiet way, and was telling them how
difficult it would be for them to live at peace in this part of the country,
and how much better it would be for them to go with their families to some
other part of the country where they would be fed and clothed by the
government.
While Dr. Thomas was speaking Captain Jack got up and walked
back to where Meacham’s horse was tied, and then returning said aloud, “Hetuck?” (Are you ready?)—and, pulling
his hand out of his pocket, snapped a pistol at General Canby. This was the
signal for the murderers, and they immediately commenced their bloody work. There
was no hurry or confusion in their manner; each man had selected his victim,
and they had only been waiting the signal.
At the first snap of Captain Jack’s pistol General Canby got
up and ran in a southerly direction, followed by Captain Jack and Shack Nasty
Jim, who both fired at him. The poor old gentleman ran about fifty yards, when
he threw up his hands and fell. Bogus Charley, Shack Nasty Jim and another
Indian then threw themselves upon him and, after stabbing him in the throat,
stripped him of everything he had on. They did not leave a vestige of clothing
on his body, and the only portion of his apparel found was a small black
necktie.
Mr. Meacham rose at the same time as General Canby, to receive
a bullet from the pistol of John Schonchin, but he ran off a short distance,
about seventy or eighty yards, and then fell shot in four places. His murderers
then stripped him to his underclothing and left him, as they supposed, a
ghastly, bleeding corpse. Poor Dr. Thomas was shot through the head in the
first fire by Boston Charley, the treacherous brute who had breakfasted with
him the same morning. He staggered a few yards and fell on his knees, at the
same time asking Boston Charley to spare his life. The fiend replied by firing
another bullet through his head, and, at the same time, Bogus Charley said to
him, “Why you no believe squaw?” Boston Charley, after stripping the body of
Dr. Thomas to the waist, ran to where Meacham was lying and commenced scalping
him, when … Tobe shouted, “The soldiers are coming!” and the cowardly devil ran
off.
Mr. Dyar was standing on Jack’s right when the first shot was
fired, and he immediately turned and ran for camp, followed by Hooker Jim, who
fired two shots after him. Dyar, thinking that Hooker Jim was gaining, drew his
Derringer, and, turning round, snapped it. The pistol did not go off; but the
coward no sooner saw the weapon than he wheeled and ran back to where the rest
of his party were finishing their bloody work. This whole scene was enacted in
a very few minutes, and before the troops got on the ground the murderers were
safe in their rocky fastness.
I was lying down in my tent reading, when I heard a shout that
came from above me at the signal station—“They are firing at the Peace
Commissioners! General Canby is killed!” I rushed out just as the bugle notes
were calling the men to arms. Colonel Miller’s and Major Throckmorton’s
batteries of artillery were soon skirmishing across the rolling ground between
the camp and the scene of the murder, followed closely by Colonel Wright and
Lieutenant Egan, with two companies of the Twelfth infantry. Colonel Biddle and
Major Trimble came next with troops K and F, of the First cavalry. When the
troops came to where the body of their beloved General was lying cold and dead,
disfigured with his wounds, they did not at first recognize him, but learning
the horrid truth they dashed forward among the rocks, eager to revenge his
murder.
While some were attending to the dead and dying the troops
were moving rapidly forward, and it was with difficulty General Gillem kept
them back to reserve their vengeance for another day. It was a sad march, that
walk back to camp with the dead bodies of General Canby and Dr. Thomas and almost
hopelessly wounded Meacham. The Indian [woman], Tobe, was in despair, crying
incessantly and muttering, “Why would they not believe me?”
At first it was thought in camp that the murder had not been
premeditated, and that the Indians had started the shooting when they found
that the Peace Commissioners would not give them a reservation in their old
country. When we came back from the scene of the murder I went into General
Gillem’s tent, and, as I sat down, he handed me a piece of paper on which was
written, “General Canby—The Modocs have attacked Mason’s pickets, wounding
Lieutenant Boyle.” As I read it, he said, “I was just writing a note to General
Canby, which Dr. Cabaniss had volunteered to take out, when the warning from
the signal station told me it was too late to save the life of one of the best
and noblest men in the United States Army.” It appears that during the morning
some Indians, including Scar-faced Charley and Steamboat Frank, came out on the
rocks on the east side and waved a white flag. Lieutenant Sherwood, of the
Twenty-first infantry, who was officer of the day, went out to see what they
wanted, accompanied by Lieutenant Boyle, Quartermaster of Colonel Mason’s
command.
When they arrived within about sixty yards Lieutenant Sherwood
asked them what they wanted, and Steamboat Frank answered they wanted to talk
with the “little tyee’s,” and asked them to come upon the rocks where they
were. This Lieutenant Sherwood refused to do, and the Indians immediately fired
upon them, wounding Lieutenant Sherwood severely in two places. Lieutenant
Boyle ran away on hearing the first shot and succeeded in escaping unhurt. On
hearing the shots a company immediately left Colonel Mason’s camp, led by
Lieutenant Egan, who happened to be there visiting at the time, and accompanied
by Assistant Surgeon De Witt. They soon came up to where Lieutenant Sherwood
was lying and brought him back to camp. His wounds have proved fatal and he
died two days afterwards. Mr. Meacham has been doing remarkably well, and,
although shot in four places and half scalped, will probably recover. I trust
that by this time to-morrow the punishment of these treacherous murderers will
have begun, and that some will have paid the penalty of their crimes.
[Note: Although
who did exactly what is understandably a matter of controversy, it is generally
agreed that Captain Jack and Ellen’s Man George were the two who killed Canby. Shacknasty
Jim was busy attacking Meacham, along with John Schonchin. Shacknasty Jim took
Meacham’s clothes. Bogus Charley was probably involved in the killing of
Thomas, though this is uncertain. Neither Scarfaced Charley nor Steamboat Frank
were involved in the attack on Sherwood and Boyle; Miller’s Charley and
Curley-Headed Jack were the guilty parties.
Steamboat Frank was part of the crowd at the peace tent, though the only
part he took in affairs was to seize Thomas’ coat after he had been killed.
Scarfaced Charley was also there, watching from a distance. He had promised to
protect Frank Riddle from harm, and was keeping an eye on him.]
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