Captain Marsh - part 2

By Dan R. Conway

(First published in the Hysham Echo on April 21, 1927)

A Wide Open Town

In shabby huts where villainous whisky sold for 40 cents a glass, and in tawdry dance halls presided over by women whose records had driven them from the older settlements, men jostled each other spending in a few days debauchery the fruit of weary months of hard toil and unimagined peril. Here the sallow half-breed from the North, unsteady, bending over his cups; and there, the swarthy Mexicans dressed in gaudy fashion; here also was the soft-spoken southerner, flotsam of the wrecked Confederacy. Here, with “poke of dust,” was the prospector fresh from the new diggings.
Here also many ex-soldiers of the Union armies were slaking their thirst for adventure which the battlefield had only stimulated, and gladly giving the hand of fellowship to their former foes. Here mangled miners from California, farmers from the Atlantic seaboard and fur traders and trappers from the western wilderness; hardened desperadoes and heroes of law and order hobnobbed within the settlement. All these and others of the picturesque frontier exchanged yarns on “pay dirt,” of Indian perils, of narrow escapes, perhaps greatly exaggerated from the special benefit of the oncoming army of pilgrims.
From the naked hills, whose summits overtopped the settlement, savage and warlike tribesmen, looked down sullenly upon the invading whites, possessing a thorough knowledge that every freight wagon which left the levee for the distant mines constituted one more contribution to the forces which were slowly but surely dispossessing them of their native prairies and foothills; recognizing in every steamboat whistle blast a challenge to the rights of freedom which had been granted them by the Great Spirit.
A short distance along the river bank from the new town, loomed the massive but crumbling adobe walls of old Fort Benton, which for a score of years had stood guard over the whites who had come up the river to trade with the Indians. Its days of usefulness and its glory as an outpost of civilization had already passed, for now, near it, stood a settlement of white men now strong enough to defy the natives.

The Vigilantes

In another section of Montana Territory, where the miners worked and were laying the foundation for other and larger towns, a Vigilance Committee, stern enforcers of frontier law, had just completed its work of ridding communities of a lawless road agent element; but as yet, the feeble arm of the new territorial government had not gained strength sufficient to reach from Virginia City to Fort Benton, and at the latter place the Vigilance committee was still law.
The Fort Benton Vigilantes, of whom practically nothing has been written and of whom but little is remembered today, did not meet in formal conclave to pass upon the fate of criminals. A few low words spoken in passing as members met each other during their daily tasks; a vote taken in much the same manner, and perhaps the rising sun of the following morning would see a still cold form hanging from the gate of a corral. Or, it might be that some sinister looking individual had disappeared from his familiar haunts never to return - having fled during the night as the result of some stern warning he did not dare to question or resist. The law of the Fort Benton Vigilance Committee was as stern and uncompromising as that of their neighbors in the mining camps had been; but it was seldom unjust. Even the extremity of its punishments found excuse in the extremely chaotic conditions which prevailed.

A Thief Punished

In Fort Benton so great had become the terror inspired by this constant menace of swift vengeance upon evil doers that Captain Marsh, according to his own statement, saw men ride in from the mines, throw down their saddles with sack of gold dust tied to the cantles, upon the floor of I. G. Baker and company’s store, and then proceed upon a week’s spree. When they sobered up and returned for their property, they found it where they left it, and untouched.
While the Luella was unloading, one of her deck hands stole a package. The Vigilantes were informed of the theft. The thief was tried by one of their mysterious tribunals and the following night the culprit was seized and borne away to a secluded spot, where he was whipped until he was nearly dead. Captain Marsh was afterward informed that the Vigilance Committee had come within three votes of hanging the man.

Abandoning Fort Benton

No sooner had the Luella unloaded than there appeared at Fort Benton a representative of the firm of Hubbel & Hawley, which concern in the preceding year had purchased all the interests of the American Fur company, and which now had proceeded to abandon the old trading post of Fort Union at the mouth of the Yellowstone. This representative was looking for a steamer to convey the goods from Fort Union to Fort Benton, and he negotiated with Captain Marsh and a deal was consummated. The Luella thereupon dropped down the river to the old post, loaded the equipment and merchandise, and brought it up to Fort Benton.
Perhaps there were few then which realized the significance of this trip; but when the Luella, that day pulled upstream from the landing at old Fort Union, she performed the act which turned the last leaf on the last chapter of an era which for romance, has seldom been equalled in the history of the American continent - the era of fur trading in the northwest. Barring Bent’s Fort in Colorado, Fort Union had been the most important trading post in the United States. For forty years, the most powerful plains tribes had gathered there each season for trade. To this point had gathered the factors of other posts belonging to the American Fur company; and here had assembled the bold, carefree voyageurs from the wilderness to the north. Here the world’s most famous explorers, naturalists, artists, hunters, scientists and adventurers had sojourned from time to time. Such men as George Catlin, Prince Maxmilian of Wied, Audubon, Sir George Gore, James Bridger, Kit Carson, Yellowstone Kelly, and others had enjoyed the hospitality of the traders located at this old post.
When Captain Grant Marsh left Fort Union that day, he, unconsciously perhaps, performed the act which symbolized a remarkably long step from the primitive to the civilized.

A Rich Cargo

When the Luella returned to Fort Benton, it was late in August, and she was the only remaining boat at the old levee. Never before had a large river craft dared remain so late before entering upon the return trip. The captain was confident of his ability to get out of the Up Country and he advertised in the Helena papers that the Luella would leave for St. Louis the first week in September. When she finally swung downstream and around the old bend on September 2, 1866, she had on board 230 placer gold miners and more than $1,250,000 in placer gold, which was the most valuable cargo ever carried down to St. Louis by the waters of the “Big Muddy.”

Having lost his clerk on the upbound trip, Captain Marsh was in a quandary as to how he would account for the numerous fares and the freight charges on his cargo of gold. However, he located an intelligent passenger by the name of MacNeil, who agreed to attend to this incidental. Of this motley group of miners there were many who endeavored to evade paying for their passage. Some of these were trouble brewers. All fares were payable in gold dust. In those days it was a common practice among the more unscrupulous to mix black sand with a quantity of dust and get by at a saving. None of this black sand passed the scrutinizing eye of MacNeil; and he forced his passengers to “pan” their dust, causing them to wash out the sand in his presence.

At the mouth of Milk River the Luella ran aground on a sandbar. While the crew worked in their effort to dislodge the vessel, the passengers, most of whom carried their treasure in money belts about their waist, stood along the side of the boat looking on. One of them, a man by the name of McClelland, fell overboard. The water was barely two feet deep, but the current was unusually swift. He was carried off his feet and so great was the weight of his treasure belt that he was downed before help could reach him. His body was never recovered.

When, a few days later, the boat passed the mouth of the Yellowstone, a small detachment of soldiers (Company C, 13th, later 22nd Infantry) under Captain W. G. Rankin, were engaged in building Fort Buford. This intrepid band of soldiers was being constantly attacked by marauding bands of Sioux; and when the Luella pulled up to the bank, a lurking party of Indians almost captured the young and beautiful wife of Captain Rankin. The plucky young woman won a desperate race with the reds by but a narrow margin, her horse, being shot in the flank with a rifle ball.
Eleven miles below the site of Fort Buford, at the mouth of White Earth river, the Luella again went aground, and here the Indians precipitated an attack upon the vessel,without any material damage.

(Cont. next week) Print this post