Along the River Trail

When Quantrell’s Men Steamed Up the Missouri River on Their Journey of Revenge Against Farmer Peale; The Murder of Captain Spear on Board the Octavia in 1867; Fate of the Tacony as Related by Colonel Wm. Norris, a Veteran River Man

By Dan R. Conway

(First published in the Hysham Echo on April 14, 1927

In the old steam-boating days on the “Big Muddy” there were to be seen many strange looking river craft plying between the outposts of civilization in Iowa and Missouri and the head of navigation at Fort Benton. Queer old river boats they were. From many an inland stream, they had found their way to the Mississippi, and then up the treacherous Missouri. Men from every walk of life and from every section of the east were heeding the lure of the western placer gold fields; and they must be transported to the enchanted lands which lay at the foot of the great divide.

As news of the new “discoveries” went forth throughout the land, men listened to the insistent call, and a motley procession of fortune seekers headed westward. What a queer assemblage they made. Each boat had its own peculiar assortment of types and characters. There was the honest youth from the farm, clothed in Iowa homespuns with a frank and open face and guileless demeanor which bespoke this in experience in the ways of the world. Here was the argonaut, a man of slightly advanced years, his face set westward in grim determination to stake all on a last gamble with fate in mountain gulches. Here, too, was the gambler, the keen-eyed, suave fellow, whose somewhat quiet and reserved manner aided him in his business of studying human nature and profiting illegitimately by the knowledge he thus acquired. Somewhere, too, in this gathering was the out-and-out parasite - the real bad man - whose philosophy of life was founded upon the acquisition of gold with the least possible effort, whether the means employed be fair or foul.

The “Richmond”

Of all the many companies of adventurers who made the trips up the “Big Muddy” and on to the gold camps of Montana Territory, there probably never was a more oddly assorted crew than that aboard the southern river steamer, Richmond, which docked at Fort Benton, July 28, 1867, following an adventurous voyage which had its beginning on the Red river in Louisiana. Manned by a band of desperadoes with hearts as black as any pirates ever to sail the Spanish main, the mission of this boat was not to carry passengers and supplies to the mines of Montana. Neither did these men themselves propose to enter into the gamble for riches which might be panned from the bed or bank of some remote Montana creek. Theirs was a more sinister purpose; it had to do with revenge and death. The story of th Richmond is a strange one - a narrative which would require the pen of a Clemens or a Stevenson to paint its true picture.

The Quantrell Guerillas

In reality, the story of the steamer Richmond has its beginning with the close of the Civil war, when, the South defeated, Quantrell’s guerillas - a desperate band of fighters - split into small groups. Some of these disbanded and took up peaceful occupations, while the others, hardened by the revolution’s carnage, set out in search of further adventure. One of these bands was headed by a notorious character named Farmer Peale. This group headed south into Mexico to take up service under the banner of Maxmilian, who had proclaimed himself emperor of Mexico and sought to conquer that country. However, before Peale and his band of Quantrell followers had an opportunity to see active service, Maxmilian’s dream had faded, his career finding a climax in his execution, leaving his army adrift and at the mercy of his enemies.

Farmer Peale Absconds

Peale and his soldiers of fortune returned to the United States, landing in Texas, where they drifted into lawless and depredatious pursuits. The band was large and proved unwieldy for Farmer Peale, who was not a natural leader. It was, then, but a short time until strife arose within the ranks, and Peale is said to have double-crossed his followers, making away with all the spoils which should have been equally divided. Worse than that, he was accused by the outlaws of having, prior to his departure from the southern rendezvous, conspired to have his followers captured by federal and state authorities. He had hoped, evidently, to in this manner forego any possible future trouble with the men. These plans, however, went amiss and the men remained at liberty.

Peale bore a reputation of being an unusually clever gunman. He was desperate and absolutely void of fear; but in these qualifications his men were, almost without exception, his equal; and all had taken oath that they would follow Peale so long as any one of them survived, and that his life alone would atone for the injustice he had committed.

A Voyage of Revenge

Not many weeks following his sudden departure, word reached the Quantrell men that Peale had gone to Montana. At once they decided to follow him, and their plan of procedure was characteristic of the life they had led. On the Red river, which flows from Texas down through Louisiana, they discovered a sizeable, light-draft river boat, the Richmond. This they commandeered one night at its moorings. Negro firemen and deck hands were pressed into service; the boilers were steamed up and the craft was started down the river toward the Gulf of Mexico. They made the boat pay its way by carrying passengers and freight from town to town. In the course of a short time they entered the gulf where they retraced their way northward up the Mississippi, bound for Montana.

Young H. J. Wackerlin

There was but one Montanan who was actually familiar with the real story of the Richmond. That was H. J. Wackerlin, father-in-law of Federal Judge Charles N. Pray. For fifty years Mr. Wackerlin was a resident of Fort Benton, engaged most of the time in the general mercantile business.

It was in the summer of 1867 that the then seventeen-year-old Wackerlin, living with his parents at St. Joseph, Mo., made up his mind to “go west.” Daily he had watched the boats plying to and from St. Louis and Fort Benton. He had heard the alluring tales of the wondrous Rocky mountains, as told by the many frontiersmen who came and went. His youthful imagination and thirst for adventure was fired. The west held a lure which he could not evade. He was saving his money to pay his fare up the river, and waited only the times when this sum would reach the amount required to defray his passage on one of the up-bound boats.

One day a strange river steamer docked at the St. Joe wharf, and the Wackerlin youth strolled down to look it over. The men who came ashore looked just as odd and different as did the craft, and the whole scene proved unusually attractive to him. The captain’s name was Miller, and to this man the youth confided his ambition to go up the river. Captain Miller offered to take him as passenger and a bargain was struck for $130. The following day the boat cast off and continued its northwestward course toward Fort Benton.

At first young Wackerlin had not the remotest idea of the character of the men with whom he had cast his lot. On board, he found men who, like himself, had engaged passage to Fort Benton. One of these was the late Peter Valitan of Deer Lodge, Montana.

Young Wackerlin was a crack shot with a rifle, and his marksmanship won the admiration of Captain Miller and his crew of desperadoes. This accomplishment served to render his passage a far more pleasant one than it might otherwise have been.
Habitual Drunkards
As he became better acquainted with members of the Richmond’s crew, the boy soon learned their history, and became conscious of the fact that he was hobnobbing, as it were, with one of the most notorious of Quantrell’s outlaw bands. At each landing where the boat stopped, most of the crew would go ashore for a debauch. But, hard drinkers and lawless as they may have been, they never attempted to harm young Wackerlin. They treated him in a most friendly and considerate manner, nor did they insist on his joining them in their revels. He said of them that sober, they were a strange, picturesque lot, possessing rough humor to temper the evil of their ways. Under the influence of liquor, they were brutal and quarrelsome. One time, after much abuse, they drove all the negro deckhands overboard.

Shanghai Minstrels

Following this episode, they docked at a small town where a traveling minstrel troupe were giving a performance for the entertainment of the populace of a little river settlement. Captain Miller, who was himself a good deal of a humorist, possessing a suave manner, induced the troupe to take passage on the Richmond for a town higher up the river. After the boat was cast loose, these actors found themselves pressed into service as deckhands, which enforced labor they preformed during the remainder of the trip. At night they entertained the guerillas and passengers with music and recitations.
At Mandan, N. D., when the Richmond arrived a big Indian council was in progress several tribes having gathered for a pow-wow with the military authorities. The crew and passengers all went ashore to witness the procedure. Captain Miller was especially impressed and thereafter he would regale the people on the steamer with a realistic impersonation of an Indian chief addressing the council. Adventurous as the journey proved to be, the Quantrell men did not, however, forget the main purpose of the expedition; and, as they neared Fort Benton, their longed-for revenge upon Farmer Peale was uppermost in their minds and conversation. Within their own circles they discussed the treatment Peale would receive after they had discovered him.

(continued next week)

"Peale Murdered"

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