We Who Survived - 8 Catherine and the Indians

September 15

Having met Susan Kimball Wirt, who obviously had not been badly scarred by her experience with the Indians, I was looking forward to meeting with Mary Smith and Lorinda Bewley. So I wrote to
Catherine  Pringle again, asking for their addresses.

September 13, 1880

Salem

Dear Mr Young,

As far as I know Mary Smith and her husband now live in Texas. Shortly after the massacre, her family moved back to Illinois, and I heard that she married F.H. Hathaway. But I don't really know
anything else about her, so can be of no use to you in that regard.

Lorissa Bewley married William Chapman, a man who she had met during the trip out. Didn't you say you were on that same wagon train, so I expect you may have met him too. They live in
Sheridan, Yamhill County. I had a message from her saying they would be pleased if you wanted to visit them. You could combine it with a trip to see Eliza Warren, as she and her husband don't live very far from them, in Brownsville, and I should think you could get to both place by railway these days.

Anyway, I am not surprised when you told me that Susan Kimball's sister told you not to mention her being one of the Indian wives and even denying that it happened. When I have been interviewed
and asked questions about the young women who were so badly mistreated by the Indians following the massacre, I have purposely refrained from giving personal details. This is to protect the women
involved, as they certainly would not want these things to be broadcast. But I might honestly tell you that they suffered a great deal. I will tell you a bit about what happened to me. It is best you
hear directly from Lorinda about her experience.

One night when I sat alone I was confronted by two of the young Cayuse night guards. They took up chairs facing me and laughing started talking to me in their own language. I did not understand what they were saying at first but it soon became clear to me that they were telling me that they were going to rape me. I ran screaming from the room and hid and was safe for that night. To protect ourselves to some degree we decided to persuade old Chief Beardy to stay at the mansion house nights. The nearly senile chief had no influence with the likes of Tiloukaikt or Tomahus, but he
could still cow the young night guards.

Then I was visited by Edward, son of Chief Tiloukaikt who asked me to teach him English. He had a large bible that had been Father Whitman's. In this he commenced to learn to read. I would
say the words and he would repeat them after me. One day as we sat reading he gave me a cotton handkerchief and told me to wear it all the time on my head or around my neck and the other Indians would leave me alone. They would know I was his girl. It did provide me the protection he promised.

The chief (pictured above)  then called on the young men who wanted white wives to come forward. Nicholas Findley and Joe Stanfield were there as interpreters. Two did so; one named Clark, and the other Frank
Escaloom. Both were influential and rich, and both were able to speak some English. The girls were ordered to choose between the young men. Mary Smith took Clark, a son of Chief Tiloukaikt and Susan Kimball chose Frank. The chief then made a speech to the girls, telling them they must teach the men to read, and telling the men to be kind to their wives and provide well for them. Susan Kimball wept all during the speech, while Mary Smith showed her emotions only by flashing eyes and heightened color. The Indians were highly pleased with her conduct and gave her many compliments for her bravery.

Susan had previously said she would rather die than marry an Indian, and we all realised the enormity of the sacrifice, but we knew that once the Indians began to kill, they would spare no one. Mrs. Kimball would not insist upon it as she was very well aware of the sacrifice her daughter would be called upon to make and she said she would leave the decision to her daughter.

Mary's father was hesitant to give his consent, but after talking with Finley and Stanfield, he dared not object.

At first, Clark paid no attention to Mary. He finally gave her up entirely. He said his father said it was no good to take a white wife. He did not approve of the Indians taking the girls for wives but his other son Edward had usurped his authority during this time and the old man was chief in name only.

His sons, Edward and Clark were both fine looking Indians, Edward especially. His color was quite light and he had a proud and noble bearing. He braided his hair and wore cloth trousers and a black Sunday coat cast off by a missionar . He was always gentlemanly in his treatment of us; still he was an Indian. He had taken an active part in the massacre and I must admit that I cringed when I saw he wore the clothes that belonged to my brother John. 

Edward had been greatly attracted by the charms of Mary Smith. She was small and neat, her eyes flashing and black, and her hair was jetty and curly. After his brother, Clark, left her he called a meeting of his people and declared his intention of taking Mary Smith for his wife. There was a kind of courtship before the actual "marriage". Mary would sit with Edward reading the Bible to him. The son of the fierce chief sat entranced, his dark eyes wide beneath the round-crowned hat that had belonged to Doctor Whitman.

Mary was a brave girl. She took the young brave and when in his presence was cheerful, but in secret wept. Edward was very proud of his new wife. He strutted about and would inquire, "Where is my wife?" so as to cause everyone who heard him great amusement. Some have said that Mary and Edward were happy together, and it is described thus. "Sitting behind the stove, their arms
encircling each other's waist, the Smith girl reading the Bible and Edward commenting on the same, was the manner in which these young lovers spent their evenings. After the service, the couple returned to an upper room in the emigrant house.”

At the time of the ransom, Edward was free to admit that the prospect of Mary being happy with him after her people should have left the country was very remote and he willingly gave her up, both parting with an aching heart. However, this doesn't tie in well with what I saw. Edward came to Ft. Walla Walla and asked to see Mary, and three times he sent for her, but she would not comply.

Mrs. Saunder's daughter Helen escaped. When asked her age, her mother said 11 snows, although she was really 14. “Too young,” said Edward and she was let go and she was kept safe.

I hope that answers your questions sufficiently.

Checking through my lecture notes, I find that there is a section called Captivity, which you might find useful to your writing. I am enclosing it. I do mention some of Lorinda's experiences in it.

Reading through it again, reminded me of the part your family played in helping save me from the Indians.

Yours sincerely,

Catherine Pringle

Here is an edited version of the lecture that Catherine sent me.

The night of November 29, 1847, found me, a girl of thirteen years sitting in company with two
sisters and two half-breed girls upon a bed in the chamber of a large adobe house. Mr. Kimball had gone out, with his bleeding arm dressed in a sheet, to get water, but he never came back.

It was now fully light, and we heard the Indians arriving.   Soon we heard approaching footsteps and some one ascending the stairs. We huddled together and almost held our breath, not knowing what would happen to us. The Indians, mostly young men, asked me what made the children cry. I replied, "They are hungry, and want water." One of them went for water and one for food. They soon returned, one bearing a bowl of water and the other a plate of cold victuals. They directed me to gather up our clothes in readiness to go to the fort. Bringing a large basket for me to put them in, they also brought a loaf of bread for me to put in, saying we would get hungry. We had none of us yet ventured downstairs. The water was consumed and the children were begging for more. I tried to
get some of the natives to go for more, but they seemed to think they had done enough and refused. I could not bear to hear the piteous calls for water, so taking the bowl I went down. I found my shoes where I had left them the day before; putting them on I went to the river after water. Having obtained it I was returning. Some Indians were sitting upon the fence; one of them pointed his gun at me. I was terribly frightened, but walked on. One sitting near him knocked the
gun up and it went off in the air. I went to the children with the water.

There were no Indians in the house, and we ventured down to take a look at things. The Indians had
spread quilts over the corpses. Mary Ann, my sister, lifted the quilt from Dr. Whitman's face, and said: "Oh, girls, come and see father." We did so, and saw a sight we will never forget. Passing into the kitchen we found the mangled body of brother John. We were crying bitterly when Joe Stanfield stepped out of the pantry and ordered us to hush; that "the Indians would be mad and kill us if they saw us taking on so." The savages were now crowding in, and we again retreated upstairs. Joe Stanfield had told us to go over to the other house, as the other women and children were there,
but we were afraid to leave our own retreat. As we passed through the sitting-room many native women were in it; they wept over us, and loaded us down with clothing which they were collecting. The Indians came up and urged us to leave, so mustering courage I took one child and my sister one. As Mary Ann was not strong enough to carry the other one, and would not stay with her, we were under the necessity of leaving her, promising to return as soon as we could. Upon reaching the room below we found the kitchen to be full of savages, and were afraid to pass through, so we went out through the Indian room. At the outer door we passed the corpse of Francis. We were met
about half way by the girls; for several moments we all wept, and then some of them relieved us of our loads. On reaching the house I fainted. As soon as consciousness returned I informed them that Helen was still at the house, and I would have to return for her. Several
volunteered to go with me. We found her screaming with fright and calling for me.

(to be continued)