THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL - COLONEL HENRY INMAN (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📗

Could Discover And Intercept Any Fugitives Who Might Attempt

          To Escape Toward The Mountains, Or In the Direction Of

          San Fernando.  The Residue Of The Troops Took Ground About

          Three Hundred yards From The North Wall.  Here, Too,

          Lieutenant Dyer Established himself With The Six-Pounder

          And Two Howitzers, While Lieutenant Hassendaubel, Of Major

          Clark'S Battalion, Light Artillery, Remained with Captain

          Burgwin, In command Of Two Howitzers.  By This Arrangement

          A Cross-Fire Was Obtained, Sweeping The Front And Eastern

          Flank Of The Church.  All These Arrangements Being Made,

          The Batteries Opened upon The Town At Nine O'Clock A.M.

          At Eleven O'Clock, Finding It Impossible To Breach The

          Walls Of The Church With The Six-Pounder And Howitzers,

          I Determined to Storm The Building.  At A Signal, Captain

          Burgwin, At The Head Of His Own Company And That Of Captain

          Mcmillin, Charged the Western Flank Of The Church, While

          Captain Aubrey, Infantry Battalion, And Captain Barber And

          Lieutenant Boon, Second Missouri Mounted volunteers, Charged

          The Northern Wall.  As Soon As The Troops Above Mentioned

          Had Established themselves Under The Western Wall Of The

          Church, Axes Were Used in the Attempt To Breach It, And A

          Temporary Ladder Having Been Made, The Roof Was Fired.

          About This Time, Captain Burgwin, At The Head Of A Small

          Party, Left The Cover Afforded by The Flank Of The Church,

          And Penetrating Into The Corral In front Of That Building,

          Endeavoured to Force The Door.  In this Exposed situation,

          Captain Burgwin Received a Severe Wound, Which Deprived me

          Of His Valuable Services, And Of Which He Died on The

          7Th Instant.  Lieutenants Mcilvaine, First United states

          Dragoons, And Royall And Lackland, Second Regiment

          Volunteers, Accompanied captain Burgwin Into The Corral,

          But The Attempt On The Church Door Proved fruitless, And

          They Were Compelled to Retire Behind The Wall.  In the

          Meantime, Small Holes Had Been Cut In the Western Wall, And

          Shells Were Thrown In by Hand, Doing Good Execution.

          The Six-Pounder Was Now Brought Around By Lieutenant Wilson,

          Who, At The Distance Of Two Hundred yards, Poured a Heavy

          Fire Of Grape Into The Town.  The Enemy, During all Of

          This Time, Kept Up A Destructive Fire Upon Our Troops.

          About Half-Past Three O'Clock, The Six-Pounder Was Run Up

          Within Sixty Yards Of The Church, And After Ten Rounds,

          One Of The Holes Which Had Been Cut With The Axes Was

          Widened into A Practicable Breach.  The Storming Party,

          Among Whom Were Lieutenant Dyer, Of The Ordnance, And

          Lieutenant Wilson And Taylor, First Dragoons, Entered and

          Took Possession Of The Church Without Opposition.

          The Interior Was Filled with Dense Smoke, But For Which

          Circumstance Our Storming Party Would Have Suffered great

          Loss.  A Few Of The Enemy Were Seen In the Gallery,

          Where An Open Door Admitted the Air, But They Retired

          Without Firing a Gun.  The Troops Left To Support The

          Battery On The North Side Were Now Ordered to Charge On

          That Side.

 

 

 

          "The Enemy Then Abandoned the Western Part Of The Town.

          Many Took Refuge In the Large Houses On The East, While

          Others Endeavoured to Escape Toward The Mountains.

          These Latter Were Pursued by The Mounted men Under Captains

          Slack And St. Vrain, Who Killed fifty-One Of Them, Only Two

          Or Three Men Escaping.  It Was Now Night, And Our Troops

          Were Quietly Quartered in the House Which The Enemy Had

          Abandoned.  On The Next Morning The Enemy Sued for Peace,

          And Thinking The Severe Loss They Had Sustained would Prove

          A Salutary Lesson, I Granted their Supplication, On The

          Condition That They Should Deliver Up To Me Tomas, One Of

          Their Principal Men, Who Had Instigated and Been Actively

          Engaged in the Murder Of Governor Bent And Others.

          The Number Of The Enemy At The Battle Of Pueblo De Taos

          Was Between Six And Seven Hundred, And Of These One Hundred

          And Fifty Were Killed, Wounded not Known.  Our Own Loss Was

          Seven Killed and Forty-Five Wounded; Many Of The Wounded

          Have Since Died."

 

 

 

          The Capture Of The Taos Pueblo Practically Ended the Main

          Attempt To Expel The Americans From The Territory.

          Governor Montoya, Who Was A Very Influential Man In the

          Conspiracy And Styled himself The "Santa Ana Of The North,"

          Was Tried by Court-Martial, Convicted, And Executed on

          February 7Th, In the Presence Of The Army.  Fourteen Others

          Were Tried for Participating In the Murder Of Governor Bent

          And The Others Who Were Killed on The 19Th Of January, And

          Were Convicted and Executed.  Thus, Fifteen In all Were

          Hung, Being an Equal Number To Those Murdered at Taos, The

          Arroyo Hondo, And Rio Colorado.  Of These, Eight Were

          Mexicans And Seven Were Pueblo Indians.  Several More Were

          Sentenced to Be Hung For Treason, But The President Very

          Properly Pardoned them, On The Ground That Treason Against

          The United states Was Not A Crime Of Which A Mexican

          Citizen Could Be Found Guilty, While His Country Was

          Actually At War With The United states.

 

 

 

There Are Several Thrilling, As Well As Laughable, Incidents Connected

With The Taos Massacre, And The Succeeding Trial Of The Insurrectionists;

In Regard To Which I Shall Quote Freely From _Wah-To-Yah_, Whose

Author, Mr. Lewis H. Garrard, Accompanied colonel St. Vrain Across

The Plains In 1846, And Was Present At The Trial And Execution Of

The Convicted participants.

 

 

 

One Fitzgerald, Who Was A Private In captain Burgwin'S Company Of

Dragoons, In the Fight At The Pueblo De Taos, Killed three Mexicans

With His Own Hand, And Performed heroic Work With The Bombs That Were

Thrown Into That Strong Indian Fortress.  He Was A Man Of Good Feeling,

But His Brother Having Been Killed, Or Rather Murdered by Salazar,

While A Prisoner In the Texan Expedition Against Santa Fe, He Swore

Vengeance, And Entered the Service With The Hope Of Accomplishing It.

The Day Following The Fight At The Pueblo, He Walked up To The

Alcalde, And Deliberately Shot Him Down.  For This Act He Was Confined

To Await A Trial For Murder.

 

 

 

One Raw Night, Complaining Of Cold To His Guard, Wood Was Brought,

Which He Piled up In the Middle Of The Room.  Then Mounting That,

And Succeeding In breaking Through The Roof, He Noiselessly Crept

To The Eaves, Below Which A Sentinel, Wrapped in a Heavy Cloak, Paced

To And Fro, To Prevent His Escape.  He Watched until The Guard'S Back

Was Turned, Then Swung Himself From The Wall, And With As Much Ease

As Possible, Walked to A Mess-Fire, Where His Friends In waiting

Supplied him With A Pistol And Clothing.  When Day Broke, The Town

Of Fernandez Lay Far Beneath Him In the Valley, And Two Days After

He Was Safe In our Camp.

 

 

 

Many A Hand-To-Hand Encounter Ensued during The Fight At Taos,

One Of Which Was By Colonel Ceran St. Vrain, Whom I Knew Intimately;

A Grand Old Gentleman, Now Sleeping Peacefully In the Quaint Little

Graveyard At Mora, New Mexico, Where He Resided for Many Years.

The Gallant Colonel, While Riding along, Noticed an Indian With Whom

He Was Well Acquainted lying Stretched out On The Ground As If Dead.

Confident That This Particular Red devil Had Been Especially Prominent

In The Hellish Acts Of The Massacre, The Colonel Dismounted from

His Pony To Satisfy Himself Whether The Savage Was Really Dead Or

Only Shamming.  He Was Far From Being a Corpse, For The Colonel Had

Scarcely Reached the Spot, When The Indian Jumped to His Feet And

Attempted to Run A Long, Steel-Pointed lance Through The Officer'S

Shoulder.  Colonel St. Vrain Was A Large, Powerfully Built Man;

So Was The Indian, I Have Been Told.  As Each Of The Struggling

Combatants Endeavoured to Get The Better Of The Other, With The

Savage Having a Little The Advantage, Perhaps, It Appears That

"Uncle Dick" Wooton, Who Was In the Chase After The Rebels, Happened

To Arrive On The Scene, And Hitting The Indian A Terrific Blow On

The Head With His Axe, Settled the Question As To His Being a Corpse.

 

 

 

Court For The Trial Of The Insurrectionists Assembled at Nine O'Clock.

On Entering The Room, Judges Beaubien And Houghton Were Occupying

Their Official Positions.  After Many Dry Preliminaries, Six Prisoners

Were Brought In--Ill-Favoured, Half-Scared, Sullen Fellows; And The

Jury Of Mexicans And Americans Having Been Empanelled, The Trial

Commenced.  It Certainly Did Appear To Be A Great Assumption On The

Part Of The Americans To Conquer A Country, And Then Arraign The

Revolting Inhabitants For Treason.  American Judges Sat On The Bench.

New Mexicans And Americans Filled the Jury-Box, And American Soldiery

Guarded the Halls.  It Was A Strange Mixture Of Violence And Justice--

A Middle Ground Between The Martial And Common Law.

 

 

 

After An Absence Of A Few Minutes, The Jury Returned with A Verdict

Of "Guilty In the First Degree"--Five For Murder, One For Treason.

Treason, Indeed!  What Did The Poor Devil Know About His New

Allegiance?  But So It Was; And As The Jail Was Overstocked with

Others Awaiting Trial, It Was Deemed expedient To Hasten The Execution,

And The Culprits Were Sentenced to Be Hung On The Following Friday--

Hangman'S Day.

 

 

 

Court Was Daily In session; Five More Indians And Four Mexicans

Were Sentenced to Be Hung On The 30Th Of April.  In the Court Room,

On The Occasion Of The Trial Of These Nine Prisoners, Were Senora Bent

The Late Governor'S Wife, And Senora Boggs, Giving Their Evidence In

Regard To The Massacre, Of Which They Were Eye-Witnesses.  Mrs. Bent

Was Quite Handsome; A Few Years Previously She Must Have Been A

Beautiful Woman.  The Wife Of The Renowned kit Carson Also Was In

Attendance.  Her Style Of Beauty Was Of The Haughty, Heart-Breaking

Kind--Such As Would Lead A Man, With A Glance Of The Eye, To Risk

His Life For One Smile.

 

 

 

The Court Room Was A Small, Oblong Apartment, Dimly Lighted by Two

Narrow Windows; A Thin Railing Keeping The Bystanders From Contact

With The Functionaries.  The Prisoners Faced the Judges, And The

Three Witnesses--Senoras Bent, Boggs, And Carson--Were Close To Them

On A Bench By The Wall.  When Mrs. Bent Gave Her Testimony, The Eyes

Of The Culprits Were Fixed sternly Upon Her; When She Pointed out

The Indian Who Had Killed the Governor, Not A Muscle Of The Chief'S

Face Twitched or Betrayed agitation, Though He Was Aware Her Evidence

Settled his Death Warrant; He Sat With Lips Gently Closed, Eyes

Earnestly Fixed on Her, Without A Show Of Malice Or Hatred--A Spectacle

Of Indian Fortitude, And Of The Severe Mastery To Which The Emotions

Can Be Subjected.

 

 

 

Among The Jurors Was A Trapper Named baptiste Brown, A Frenchman,

As Were The Majority Of The Trappers In the Early Days Of The Border.

He Was An Exceptionally Kind-Hearted man When He First Came To The

Mountains, And Seriously Inclined to Regard The Indians With That

Mistaken Sentimentality Characterizing The Average New England

Philanthropist, Who Has Never Seen The Untutored savage On His Native

Heath.  His Ideas, However, Underwent A Marked change As The Years

Rolled on And He Became More Familiar With The Attributes Of The

Noble Red man.  He Was With Kit Carson In the Blackfeet Country

Many Years Before The Taos Massacre, When His Convictions Were Thus

Modified, And It Was From The Famous Frontiersman Himself I Learned

The Story Of Baptiste'S Conversion.

 

 

 

It Was Late One Night In their Camp On One Of The Many Creeks In the

Blackfoot Region, Where They Had Been Established for Several Weeks,

And Baptiste Was On Duty, Guarding Their Meat And Furs From The

Incursions Of A Too Inquisitive Grizzly That Had Been Prowling around,

And The Impertinent Investigations Of The Wolves.  His Attention Was

Attracted to Something High Up In a Neighbouring Tree, That Seemed

Restless, Changing Its Position Constantly Like An Animal Of Prey.

The Frenchman Drew A Bead Upon It, And There Came Tumbling Down At His

Feet A Dead Savage, With His War-Paint And Other Indian Paraphernalia

Adorning His Body.  Baptiste Was Terribly Hurt Over The Circumstance

Of Having Killed an Indian, And It Grieved him For A Long Time.

One Day, A Month After The Incident, He Was Riding alone Far Away

From Our Party, And Out Of Sound Of Their Rifles As Well, When A Band

Of Blackfeet Discovered him And Started for His Scalp.  He Had No

Possible Chance For Escape Except By The Endurance Of His Horse;

So A Race For Life Began.  He Experienced no Trouble In keeping Out

Of The Way Of Their Arrows--The Indians Had No Guns Then--And Hoped

To Make Camp Before They Could Possibly Wear Out His Horse.  Just As

He Was Congratulating Himself On His Luck, Right In front Of Him

There