The Life and Adventures of James P. Beckwourth: Mountaineer, Scout, Pioneer, and Chief of the Crow Nation of Indians

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Robert Drury's Journal in Madagascar.

Chapter I.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

of

JAMES P. BECKWOURTH.

CHAPTER I.

Birth-place and Childhood—Removal to St. Louis.

B was born in Fredericksburg, Virginia, on the 26th of April, 1798. My father's family consisted of thirteen children, seven sons and six daughters. I was the third child, having one sister and one brother older than myself.

My father had been an officer in the Revolutionary War, and had held a major's commission. He served throughout that glorious struggle which

Raised the dignity of man, And taught him to be free."

I well recollect, when a small boy, the frequent meetings of the old patriots at my father’s house, who would sit down and relate the different battles in which they had taken part during "those days that tried men's souls," According to the custom of those days, their meetings were occasionally enlivened with some good old peach brandy; the same kind, I presume, as that with which the old Tory treated M'Donald when he delivered his splendid charger "Selim" to him for presentation to Colonel Tarleton, which circumstance was very frequently spoken of by the old soldiers.

Often during these reminiscences every eye would dim, and tears course down the cheeks of the old veterans, as they thus fought their battles o'er again, and recalled their sufferings during the struggles they had passed through.

My youthful mind was vividly impressed with the stirring scenes depicted by those old soldiers; but time and subsequent hardship have obliterated most of their narratives from my memory. One incident I recollect, however, related by my father, when he formed one of a storming party in the attack on Stony Point made under General Wayne.

When I was but about seven or eight years of age, my father removed to St. Louis, Missouri, taking with him all his family and twenty-two negroes. He selected a section of land between the forks of the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers, twelve miles below St. Charles, which is to this day known as "Beckwourth's Settlement."

At this early period of our history (1805–6) the whole region of country around was a "howling wilderness," inhabited only by wild beasts and merciless savages. St. Louis, at that time, was but a small town, its inhabitants consisting almost wholly of French and Spanish settlers, who were engaged in trafficking with the Indians the commodities of civilization, such as fire-water, beads, blankets, arms, ammunition, &c., for peltry.

For protection against the Indians, who were at that time very troublesome and treacherous, it became necessary for the whites to construct block-houses at convenient distances. These block-houses were built by the united exertions of the settlers, who began to gather from all quarters since the "Jefferson Purchase" had been effected from the French Government. The settlers or inhabitants of four adjoining sections would unite and build a block-house in the centre of their possessions, so that in case of alarm they could all repair to it as a place of refuge from the savages.

It was necessary to keep a constant guard on the plantations, and while one portion of the men were at work, the others, with their arms, were on the alert watching the wily Indian. Those days are still fresh in my memory, and it was then that I received, young as I was, the rudiments of my knowledge of the Indian character, which has been of such inestimable value to me in my subsequent adventures among them.

There were constant alarms in the neighbourhood of some of the block-houses, and hardly a day passed without the inhabitants being compelled to seek them for protection. As an illustration of our mode of life, I will relate an incident that befel me when about nine years old.

One day my father called me to him, and inquired of me whether I thought myself man enough to carry a sack of corn to the mill. The idea of riding a horse, and visiting town, possessed attractions which I could not resist, and I replied with a hearty affirmative. A sack of corn was accordingly deposited on the back of a gentle horse selected for the purpose, and "Young Jim" (as I was called) was placed upon the sack, and started for the mill two miles distant. About midway to the mill lived a neighbour having a large family of children, with whom I frequently joined in boyish sports. On my way I rode joyously up to the little fence which separated the house from the road, thinking to pass a word with my little playmates. What was my horror at discovering all the children, eight in number, from one to fourteen years of age, lying in various positions in the door-yard with their throats cut, their scalps torn off, and the warm life-blood still oozing from their gaping wounds! In the doorway lay their father, and near him their mother, in the same condition; they had all shared the same fate. I found myself soon back at my father's house, but without the sack of corn—how I managed to get it off I never discovered—and related the circumstances to my father. He immediately gave the alarm throughout the settlement, and a body of men started in pursuit of the savages who had perpetrated this fearful tragedy; my father, with ten of his own men, accompanying them. In two days the band returned, bringing with them eighteen Indian scalps; for the backwoodsman fought the savage in Indian style, and it was scalp for scalp between them.

The day when I beheld the harrowing spectacle of my little murdered playmates is still as fresh in my memory as at the time of its occurrence, and it never will fade from my mind. It was the first scene of Indian cruelty my young eyes had ever witnessed, and I wondered how even savages could possess such relentless minds as to wish to bathe their hands in the blood of little innocents against whom they could have no cause of quarrel. But my subsequent experience has better acquainted me with the Indian character, as the reader will learn in the course of the following pages.

I also recollect a large body of Indians assembling in their war costume on the opposite side of the Mississippi River, in what is now the State of Illinois. This was at Portage de Soix, twenty-five miles above St. Louis, and about two miles from my father's house; and their intention was to cut off all the white inhabitants of the surrounding country. The alarm was given; a large party of the settlers collected, crossed the river, and after a severe engagement defeated the Indians with great loss, and frustrated their bloody purposes.

Three days after this battle, a woman came into the settlement who had been three years captive among the Indians. She had made her escape during the confusion attending their defeat, and reached her friends in safety, after they had long supposed her dead. The name of this woman I do not remember, but I have no doubt there are old settlers in that region who yet recollect the circumstance, and the general rejoicing with which her escape was celebrated.

The news that she brought was of the most alarming nature. She related how several of the Indian tribes had held a grand council, and resolved upon a general attack upon St. Louis and all the surrounding country, with the view to butcher indiscriminately all the white inhabitants, French and Spanish excepted. This intelligence produced the greatest alarm among the inhabitants, and every preparation was made to repel the attack. New block-houses were erected, old ones repaired, and everything placed in the best posture for defence. The Indians soon after appeared in great force opposite St. Louis. Blondo, an interpreter, was despatched across the river to them, to inform them of the preparations made for their reception. He informed them of the intelligence communicated by the woman fugitive from their camp; and represented to them that the people of St. Louis were provided with numerous "big guns mounted on waggons," which, in case of attack, could not fail to annihilate all their warriors. They credited Blondo's tale, and withdrew their forces.

At the period of which I speak, the major part of the inhabitants of St. Louis were French and Spanish. These were on friendly terms with all the Indian tribes, and wished to confine their long-established traffic with the Red men to themselves. For this reason they discountenanced the settlement of Americans among them, as they considered it an invasion of their monopoly of the traffic with the Indians; and St. Louis being the grand trading depôt for the regions of the West and North-west, the profits derived from the intercourse were immense. The Indians, too, thinking themselves better dealt with by the French and Spanish, united with the latter in their hostility to the influx of the Americans.

When about ten years of age I was sent to St. Louis to attend school, where I continued until the year 1812. I was then apprenticed to a man in St. Louis named George Casner, to learn the trade of blacksmith. (This man had a partner named John L. Sutton, who is yet a resident in St. Louis).

I took to the trade with some unwillingness at first, but becoming reconciled to it, I was soon much pleased with my occupation. When I had attained my nineteenth year, my sense of importance had considerably expanded, and, like many others of my age, I felt myself already quite a man. Among other indiscretions, I became enamoured of a young damsel, which, leading me into habits that my boss disapproved of, resulted finally in a difficulty between us.

Being frequently tempted to transgress my boss's rules by staying from home somewhat late of an evening, and finding the company I spent my time with so irresistibly attractive that I could not bring myself to obedience to orders, I gave way to my passion, and felt indifferent whether my proceedings gave satisfaction or otherwise. One morning I was assailed by my principal in language which I considered unduly harsh and insulting, and on his threatening to dismiss me his house, I was tempted to reply with some warmth, and acknowledge that his doing so would exactly square with my wishes.

Provoked at this, he seized a hammer and flung at me. I dodged the missile, and threw it back at him in return. A scuffle then ensued, in which I, being young and athletic, came off master of the ground, and, accepting his polite dismissal, walked straight to my boarding-house. But a few moments elapsed before my assailant walked in and forbade my landlady to entertain me farther on his account.

I replied that I had plenty of money, and was competent to pay my own board.

This provoked him to a second attack, in which he again came off worsted.

Hereupon resolving to leave the house, I began to prepare for my departure; but, before I had completed my preparations, a one-armed constable presented himself at the stairs, and demanded to see me. Well knowing his errand, I took a well-loaded pistol in my hand, and went to meet him, assuring him that if he ascended the steps to capture me I would shoot him dead. In my exasperated state of mind, I really believe I should have executed my threat; the constable, perceiving my resolute bearing, after parleying a while, went away. Feeling confident that he had gone for another officer, who I feared might capture me, I expedited my departure, and, taking refuge in the house of a friend, concealed myself for three days, and then shipped on board a keel-boat, proceeding to the mines on Fever River. But I was discovered by my boss and detained, he holding himself responsible for my appearance until my father's decision was learned.

Accordingly, I went home to my father, and related the difficulty I had recently had with my master. He counselled me to return to my apprenticeship, but I declared my determination never to be reconciled again. My father then wished me to set up in business in his settlement, but I expressed disinclination, and declared a growing wish to travel. Seeing my determination, my father finally consented to my departure. He admonished me with some wholesome precepts, gave me five hundred dollars in cash, together with a good horse, saddle, and bridle, and bade me God speed upon my journey.

Bidding adieu to all my friends, I proceeded to the boat and went on board. The object for which the boat was despatched up the Fever River was to make a treaty with the Sac Indians, to gain their consent to our working the mines, at that time in their possession. The expedition was strictly of a pacific character, and was led by Colonel R.M. Johnson. A brother of the colonel's accompanied us, and several other gentlemen went in the boat as passengers.

Chapter II.

CHAPTER II.

The expedition consisted of from six to eight boats, carrying probably about one hundred men. The party in our boat numbered some eight or ten men, among whom were Colonel Johnson, his son Darwin Johnson, Messrs. January, Simmes, Kennerley, and others, whose names have escaped me. I engaged in the capacity of hunter to the party.

We pushed off, and after a slow and tedious trip of about twenty days, arrived at our place of destination (Galena of the present day). We found Indians in great numbers awaiting our disembarkation, who were already acquainted with the object of our expedition. The two tribes, Sacs and Foxes, received us peaceably, but, being all armed, they presented a very formidable appearance. There was a considerable force of United States troops quartered in that region, under the command of Colonel Morgan, stationed in detachments at Prairie du Chien, Rock Island, St. Peter's, and Des Moines.

After nine days' parleying, a treaty was effected with them, and ratified with the signatures of the contracting parties, On the part of the Indians, it was signed by Black Thunder, Yellow, Bank, and Keokuk (father to the Keokuk who figured in the Black Hawk war). On the part of the United States, Colonels Morgan and Johnson attached their signatures. This negotiation concluded, the mines were then first opened for civilized enterprise.

During the settlement of the preliminaries of the treaty, there was great difficulty with the Indians, and it was necessary for each man of our party to be on his guard against any hostile attempts of the former, who were all armed to the teeth. On the distribution of presents, which followed the conclusion of the treaty, consisting of casks of whisky, guns, gunpowder, knives, blankets, &c., there was a general time of rejoicing. Pow-wows, drinking, and dancing diversified the time, and a few fights were indulged in as a sequel to the entertainment.

The Indians soon became very friendly to me, and I was indebted to them for showing me their choicest hunting-grounds. There was abundance of game, including deer, bears, wild turkey, raccoons, and numerous other wild animals, Frequently they would accompany me on my excursions (which always proved eminently successful), thus affording me an opportunity of increasing my personal knowledge of the Indian character. I have lived among Indians in the Eastern and Western States, on the Rocky Mountains, and in California; I find their habits of living, and their religious belief, substantially uniform through all the unmingled races. All believe in the same Great Spirit; all have their prophets, their medicine men, and their soothsayers, and are alike influenced by the appearance of omens; thus leading to the belief that the original tribes throughout the entire continent, from Florida to the most northern coast, have sprung from one stock, and still retain in some degree of purity the social constitution of their primitive founders.

I remained in that region for a space of eighteen months, occupying my leisure time by working in the mines. During this time I accumulated seven hundred dollars in cash, and, feeling myself to be quite a wealthy personage, I determined upon a return home.

My visit paid, I felt a disposition to roam farther, and took passage in the steamboat Calhoun, Captain Glover, about to descend the river to New Orleans. My stay in New Orleans lasted ten days, during which time I was sick with the yellow fever, which I contracted on the way from Natchez to New Orleans. It was midsummer, and I sought to return home, heartily regretting I had ever visited this unwholesome place. As my sickness abated, I lost no time in making my way back, and remained under my father's roof until I had in some measure recruited my forces.

Being possessed with a strong desire to see the celebrated Rocky Mountains, and the great Western wilderness so much talked about, I engaged in General Ashley's Rocky Mountain Fur Company. The company consisted of twenty-nine men, who were employed by the Fur Company as hunters and trappers.

We started on the 11th of October with horses and pack-mules, Nothing of interest occurred until we approached the Kansas village, situate on the Kansas River, when we came to a halt and encamped.

Here it was found that the company was in need of horses, and General Ashley wished for two men to volunteer to proceed to the Republican Pawnees, distant three hundred miles, where he declared we could obtain a supply. There was in our party an old and experienced mountaineer, named Moses Harris, in whom the general reposed the strictest confidence for his knowledge of the country and his familiarity with Indian life. This Harris was reputed to be a man of "great leg," and capable, from his long sojourning in the mountains, of enduring extreme privation and fatigue.

There seemed to be a great reluctance on the part of the men to undertake in such company so hazardous a journey (for it was now winter). It was also whispered in the camp that whoever gave out in an expedition with Harris received no succour from him, but was abandoned to his fate in the wilderness.

Our leader, seeing this general unwillingness, desired me to perform the journey with Harris. Being young, and feeling ambitious to distinguish myself in some important trust, I asked leave to have a word with Harris before I decided.

Harris being called, the following colloquy took place:

"Harris, I think of accompanying you on this trip."

"Very well, Jim," he replied, scrutinizing me closely, "do you think you can stand it?"

"I don't know," I answered, "but I am going to try. But I wish you to bear one thing in mind: if I should give out on the road, and you offer to leave me to perish, as you have the name of doing, if I have strength to raise and cock my rifle, I shall certainly bring you to a halt."

Harris looked me full in the eye while he replied, "Jim, you may precede me the entire way, and take your own jog. If I direct the path, and give you the lead, it will be your own fault if you tire out."

"That satisfies me," I replied: "we will be off in the morning."

The following morning we prepared for departure. Each man loading himself with twenty-five pounds of provisions, besides a blanket, rifle, and ammunition each, we started on our journey. After a march of about thirty miles, I in advance, my companion bringing up the rear, Harris complained of fatigue. We halted, and Harris sat down, while I built a large, cheerful fire, for the atmosphere was quite cold. We made coffee, and partook of a hearty supper, lightening our packs, as we supposed, for the following day. But while I was bringing in wood to build up the fire, I saw Harris seize his rifle in great haste, and the next moment bring down a fat turkey from a tree a few rods from the camp. Immediately reloading (for old mountaineers never suffer their guns to remain empty for one moment), while I was yet rebuilding the fire, crack went his rifle again, and down came a second turkey, so large and fat that he burst in striking the ground. We were thus secure for our next morning's meal. After we had refreshed ourselves with a hearty supper, my companion proposed that we should kill each a turkey to take with us for our next day's provision. This we both succeeded in doing, and then, having dressed the four turkeys, we folded ourselves in our blankets, and enjoyed a sound night's rest.

The following morning we breakfasted off the choicest portions of two of the turkeys, and abandoned the remainder to the wolves, who had been all night prowling round the camp for prey. We started forward as early as possible, and advanced that day about forty miles. My companion again complained of fatigue, and rested while I made a fire, procured water, and performed all the culinary work. The selected portions of last evening's turkeys, with the addition of bread and coffee, supplied us with supper and breakfast.

After a travel of ten days we arrived at the Republican Pawnee villages, when what was our consternation and dismay to find the place entirely deserted! They had removed to their winter quarters. We were entirely out of provisions, having expected to find abundance at the lodges. We searched diligently for their caches (places where provisions are secured), but failed in discovering any. Our only alternative was to look for game, which, so near to an Indian settlement, we were satisfied must be scarce.

I would break my narrative for a while to afford some explanation in regard to the different bands of the Pawnee tribe; a subject which at the present day is but imperfectly understood by the general reader—the knowledge being confined to those alone, who, by living among them, have learned their language, and hence become acquainted with the nature of their divisional lands.

The reader, perhaps, has remarked, that I related we were on a visit to Republican Pawnee villages. This is a band of the Pawnee tribe of Indians, which is thus divided:

The Grand Pawnee Band.

The Republican Pawnee Band.

The Pawnee Loups or Wolf Pawnees.

The Pawnee Pies or Tattooed Pawnees, and

The Black Pawnees.

The five bands constitute the entire tribe, Each band is independent and under its own chief, but for mutual defence, or in other cases of urgent necessity, they unite into one body. They occupy an immense extent of country, stretching from beyond the Platte River to the south of the Arkansas, and, at the time I speak of, could raise from thirty thousand to forty thousand warriors. Like all other Indian tribes, they have dwindled away from various causes, the small-pox and war haying carried them off by thousands. Some of the bands have been reduced to one half by this fatal disease (in many instances introduced designedly among them by their civilized brethren); a disease more particularly fatal to the Indians from their entire ignorance of any suitable remedy. Their invariable treatment for all ailments being a cold-water immersion, it is not surprising that they are eminently unsuccessful in their treatment of the small-pox. Horse-stealing, practised by one band upon the other, leads to exterminating feuds and frequent engagements, wherein great numbers are mutually slain.

The following interesting episode I had from the lips of the interpreter:

Some thirty-two years ago, during Monroe's administration, a powerful Indian named Two Axe, chief counsellor of the Pawnee Loup band, went to pay his "Great Father," the President, a visit. He was over six feet high and well proportioned, athletic build, and as straight as an arrow. He was delegated to Washington by his tribe to make a treaty with his Great Father.

Being introduced, his "father" made known to him, through the interpreter, the substance of his proposal. The keen-witted Indian, perceiving that the proposed treaty "talked all turkey" to the white man and "all crow" to his tribe, sat patiently during the reading of the paper. The reading finished, he arose with all his native dignity, and in that vein of true Indian eloquence in which he was unsurpassed, declared that the treaty had been conceived in injustice and brought forth in duplicity; that many treaties had been signed by Indians of their "Great Father's" concoction wherein they bartered away the graves of their fathers for a few worthless trinkets, and afterward their hearts cried at their folly; that such Indians were fools and women. He expressed his free opinion of the "Great Father," and all his white children, and concluded by declaring that he would sign no paper which would make his own breast or those of his people to sorrow.

Accordingly, Two Axe broke up the council abruptly, and returned to his home without making any treaty with his "Great Father."

Chapter III.

CHAPTER III.

My companion and myself took counsel together how to proceed. Our determination was to make the best of our way to the Grand Ne-mah-haw River, one of the tributaries of the Missouri. We arrived at that river after nine days' travel, being, with the exception of a little coffee and sugar, entirely without provisions. My companion was worn out, and seemed almost disheartened. I was young and did not feel much the worse for the journey, although I experienced a vehement craving for food. Arrived at the river, I left Harris by a good fire, and, taking my rifle, went in quest of game, not caring what kind I met.

As Fortune would have it, I came across an elk, and my rifle soon sent a leaden messenger after him. We encamped near him, promising ourselves a feast. He was exceedingly poor, however, and, hungry as we were, we made a very unsavoury supper off his flesh. The next morning we continued our journey down the Ne-mah-haw, travelling on for five days after I had killed the elk without tasting food. The elk had been so rank that we carried no part of him with us, trusting to find some little game, in which we were disappointed. We had thrown away our blankets to relieve ourselves of every burden that would impede our progress, which, withal, was extremely slow.

On the fifth day we struck a large Indian trail, which bore evident marks of being fresh. My companion now gave entirely up, and threw himself to the ground, declaring he could go no farther. He pronounced our position to be thirty miles from the trading-post. I endeavoured to arouse him to get up and proceed onward, but he could only advance a few rods at a time. I felt myself becoming weak; still, I had faith that I could reach Ely's, if I had no hindrance; if I lingered for Harris, I saw we should both inevitably perish. He positively declared he could advance not a step farther; he could scarcely put one foot before the other, and I saw he was becoming bewildered.

In the dilemma I said to him, "Harris, we must both perish if we stay here. If I make the best of my way along this trail, I believe I can reach Ely's some time in the night" (for I was aware that the Indians, whose trail we were following, were proceeding thither with their peltry).

But Harris would not listen to it.

"Oh, Jim," he exclaimed, "don't leave me; don't leave me here to die! For God's sake, stay with me!"

I did my best to encourage him to proceed; I assisted him to rise, and we again proceeded upon our journey.

I saw, by the progress we were making, we should never get on; so I told him, if I had to advance and leave him, to throw himself in the trail, and await my return on the following day with a good horse to carry him to the trading-post. We walked on, I a hundred yards in advance, but I became convinced that if I did not use my remaining strength in getting to Ely's, we should both be lost.

Accordingly, summoning all my forces, I doubled my speed, determined to reach the post before I stopped. I had not proceeded half a mile ere I heard the report of two rifles, and, looking in the direction of the sound, I saw two Indians approaching with demonstrations of friendship.

On reaching me, one of them exclaimed, "You are dead—you no live!"

I explained to him that I had left my companion behind, and that we were both nearly starved to death. On this they spoke a few words to each other in their own language, and one started off like a race-horse, along the trail, while the other returned with me to my companion.

As we approached him I could hear him moaning, "Ho, Jim! come back! come back! don't leave me!"

We went up to him, and I informed him that we were safe; that I had met the Indians, and we should soon be relieved.

After waiting about three hours, the rattling of hoofs was heard, and, looking up, we discovered a troop of Indians approaching at full speed. In another moment they were by our side. They brought with them a portion of light food, consisting of corn-meal made into a kind of gruel, of which they would give us but a small spoonful at short intervals. When Harris was sufficiently restored to mount a horse with the assistance of the Indians, we all started forward for the post.

It appeared that the two Indians whom I had so fortunately encountered had lingered behind the main party to amuse themselves with target-shooting with their rifles. The one that started along the trail overtook the main body at a short distance, and, making our case known to them, induced them to return to our succour.