POLK COUNTY, June 25, 1846.               

    MR. EDITOR--I have read an editorial article in the Spectator of the 4th instant, in which I could not fail to observe that you had been so far led astray by the rash, not to say willful, misrepresentations of thoughtless or designing and interested persons, as to make no less than seven incorrect statements in the first eleven lines of an article of thirteen. I am thus particular for the purpose of showing how many inaccuracies may be crowded into so small a compass. The article in question, when analyzed, will be found to contain nine averments, viz:
    1st. That "all the immigrants" "excepting four families," have arrived in the settlements." This is incorrect. Mr. Duskins was, it is believed, among the last persons who returned with direct intelligence from the families "in the Umpqua valley." When he left, there were five or six families--one consisting of Messrs. Geddes and Nye, the Rev. J. A. Cornwall's, Mr. Kennedy's, Mr. Croizen's and Mr. Hall's. There was also the family of one whose name is not now remembered--believed, however, to be Davis or Wood; making in all about thirty souls.
    2d. That the "four families" excepted had "concluded to remain with their property until spring, in the Umpqua valley." This also is incorrect. They had not "concluded" to remain. They remained because the hard hand of necessity was upon them. As well might it be said of the unhappy man who is being led to execution, that he has "concluded" to be hung.
    3d. That those who had arrived in the settlements have "ARRIVED SAFELY." This also is incorrect, if anything is meant by the expression "arrived safely" beyond the simple announcement of the fact that many of the immigrants, after traversing a country dangerous in consequence of the hostility of the savages, have at length arrived in a very enfeebled condition to which they had been reduced by hunger, cold and nakedness. In addition to this, it may be affirmed that almost every man (perhaps indeed, everyone) who came into Oregon by the southern route is, in a pecuniary point of view, ruined by doing so. Do men arrive "safely" who lose their wagons, teams, tents and clothing; and who freeze their feet, and come in looking like famished wolves?
    4th. That accounts of the condition of the immigrants "have been exaggerated." To exaggerate this account, it is feared, would be a difficult task. It is probably one which could be accomplished by those only who are the sources of your information. It is a fact well known among the immigrants that as early as the 14th of November last, an ox that had become too lean and too much exhausted to be able to go any further, and which had finally died in the kanyon of the Umpqua mountains (supposed, I believe, for some time, to have belonged to Rice Dunbar) was found with its hindquarters skinned and carried away. By whom, and for what purpose, was this done, if it was not done by some unhappy father who saw his children famishing for want of food? It was to this circumstance I referred in my communication of Nov. 30th, in which I observed that the immigrants previous to my leaving the disastrous kanyon had commenced eating the cattle that had died in it. I did not, indeed, see the ox skinned or eaten, as before mentioned, but the fact was not questioned while I remained at the kanyon, nor was it ever denied until improper and unworthy motives suggested the idea of keeping the people of the valley in ignorance of the extent of the sufferings of the immigrants. I did not, in stating the fact in my appeal to the people, in behalf of the sufferers whom I had left behind me, intend to censure any one of the gentlemen who had been instrumental in leading us upon that most unfortunate road. Much less was it my purpose to express any opinion at that time whether it would be proper to advise future immigrants to travel that road. This question I did not believe ought to be discussed while any of the immigrants remained in circumstances of so much suffering. And I must be permitted to say that had I been instrumental in placing a multitude of men, women and children in such a situation, I would have eaten my bread in bitterness until I had rescued them, instead of attempting to amuse the public mind either by speculations with regard to the practicability of some other route, or by wickedly attempting to produce the impression that accounts of the condition of the immigrants "HAVE BEEN EXAGGERATED." I say wickedly, because I believe that, had not some persons, influenced by improper motives, succeeded to some extent in producing this impression, all the immigrants would by this time have been in the valley. As circumstances now are, there is much reason to fear that the coming spring will reveal a tale of the sufferings of those in the Umpqua valley that will make sick the heart of every man who has one.
    The sufferings, then, of the immigrants have not "been exaggerated." Indeed, I doubt whether the half has been told. By the very last intelligence we have of those "who have concluded to remain," we learn that an estimable old man, and his wife and grandchild, had subsisted three days upon three mice.
    5th. That much of the detention of the immigrants is to be ascribed to "their own mismanagement." How did it come to pass that all the good managers traveled the old road, many of them arriving in Oregon City as early as Sept. 13th, with their property; while all the mismanagers took the route indicated by Messrs. Applegate and Goff, losing all their property and arriving in the settlements in December, looking more like the shadows of ghosts than the substantial forms of living men? Mr. Applegate met the company in which I traveled August 8th, a few miles on this side of Fort Hall. Although among the first of my company to get in, I did not arrive until Nov. 29th; while others who had entered upon the old road only about forty-eight hours before Mr. Applegate arrived at the point where the old road to Oregon turns off to the right from the California road, arrived Sept. 13th--two and a half months earlier.
    6th. That much of the detention of the immigrants is to be ascribed to their WILLFUL delay--for in no other sense can the word "delay" be understood when read in the connection in which it appears. If those to whom you refer as being the source from which you derive your information, and whom you describe as being "some of the immigrants who have reached here," mean to speak of themselves only, nothing will be objected to their making themselves as odious as they desire. But if they intend to be understood as speaking of other immigrants than themselves, then a regard to truth and justice constrains me to pronounce their statement to be untrue in all its length, and depth, and breadth.
    7th. That the averments made under the last three heads rest upon the authority of "some of the immigrants who have reached here." I am not careful to know what motive prompted "some of the immigrants who have reached here," thus to slander their fellow travelers. I hope, however, that it does not spring from that base and mean spirit which characterizes a class of individuals known by the expressive, though not very elegant, epithet of "bootlicks."
    8th. That ninety wagons were "all that were upon the southern route." While I can affirm that ninety wagons were not "all that were upon the southern route," I will not take upon myself to say certainly what was the precise number. Relying upon memory, an attempt will, however, be made to approximate to it. Seventy-five wagons had been turned into the new road previous to the company, in which I traveled, coming up. In this company, if I am not mistaken, there was eighteen wagons. Mr. Lard and his son-in-law had two wagons. James Savage had one. I have been informed that the company of Messrs. Brown and Allen contained eighteen wagons. This would make one hundred and fourteen. I may have made some mistakes as to precise numbers, but I do not doubt that many wagons have entirely escaped my memory.
    9th. That of the ninety wagons affirmed to be all that were upon the southern route, "fifty are on this side of the Umpqua mountains, including twelve that had reached the first settlement at the head of the" Willamette valley. But where are the forty wagons making the difference between fifty and ninety? It is answered that they lie in scattered fragments upon the sides of hills, upon the tops of the mountains, and along the rocky glens and the most impassable kanyons which mark the disastrous "cut-off," leading us, as I am of opinion it did, as far south as lat. 40 north latitude. And where, too, are the twenty-four wagons which make the difference between one hundred and fourteen? It is answered that Gov. Boggs, having two wagons, William Boggs one wagon, Mr. Lard and his son-in-law two wagons, and James Savage one wagon, disappointed as to the distance down Mary's river [i.e., the Humboldt River], the quality of the water, and the quantity of grass along that stream, became alarmed, and believing that it would be periling the lives of their families to leave the California road and take that indicated by Messrs. Applegate and Goff, determined to go directly into the Mexican settlement. This determination was precipitated by its being believed that the point at which the road turns off to lead to Oregon by the way of the Black Rock was only about sixty miles from the sinks of Mary's river.
    Of the eighteen wagons, of which it is believed the company of Messrs. Brown and Allen consisted, nothing definite has been heard. But it is feared that all have been cut off by the savages.
    I do not desire, nor do I deem it necessary at this time (if indeed at all) to examine into the merits of the southern route as compared with the one in the north. This is entirely beside the purpose in view--that of repelling a gratuitous slander resting upon the authority of "some of the immigrants who have reached here."
    I am, sir, respectfully yours, &c.
    Feb. 15, 1847.
Oregon Spectator, Oregon City, March 4, 1847, page 1


    From the best information I have been able to obtain, there appears to be no very serious obstruction in the way, until the road reaches the Umpqua Mountains dividing the waters of the Umpqua and Klamath [sic] rivers. There is a defile passing through the mountains, cutting it to its very base, and opening a passage that might be made quite practicable for loaded wagons. The distance through this passage is about 18 miles, about 12 of which is quite a passable road, and the remaining 6 miles almost wholly impracticable in its present state; in this defile there is a pool of water about fifteen feet in diameter from which two small streams take their rise, one running into the Umpqua, and the other into the Klamath River. In that portion of this defile called the "Kanyons," the road runs in the bed of one of these streams for the distance of 3 miles, and large loose rock and a long and exceedingly narrow passage. The emigrants reached this point just as the fall rains set in, which raised these two streams and obstructed the passage to such an extent that many oxen were left dead in the Kanyon, and many families were left without teams, and had it not been for friendly aid they must have perished. Had these emigrants reached this defile and passed through it before the rainy season came on, they would have suffered much less. They were, however, some ten days too late.
Peter H. Burnett to James M. Hughes, March 1847, quoted by Dale Morgan, Overland in 1846, vol. I, 1968, page 688    A later passage in the letter reveals that Burnett considered Klamath and Rogue as synonymous.


    The Umpqua mountain divides the waters of Rogue river and Umpqua, and is much more formidable than the Calapooia, being a much higher, rockier ridge, and over it, it is impracticable to make a wagon road.
    The road passes through a chasm which cuts the mountain from side to side to its very base. As this pass has been a place of much disaster to some of the immigrants, and is of itself a natural curiosity, it requires a minute description. A pool of water, about 15 feet in diameter, occupies the dividing ground between the waters of the Rogue river and Umpqua; there is from east to west about 30 yards of land between the mountains, which rises abruptly to the height of about 1500 feet--the descent each way from this point is very gentle--that to the south is about three miles--conducts by a good way to the open country; that to the north is about 12 miles in length--for three or four miles there is sufficient space of level ground, and but little work required to make a good road; but below this the stream increasing in size by the entrance of affluents, and the mountains closing in upon it, the road must descend in its rocky bed, made more difficult by some large stones and short falls, or be graded along the side of the mountain, which, having loose soil or decomposed basalt, can be done with the greatest facility these last two or three miles, when the hills recede, and leave, by frequent crossing [of] the creek, a bottom wide enough for a road the remainder of the distance. The party employed in opening the road, being in want of the necessary tools, and scarce of provisions, were unable to make this road properly, and attempted only to make it passable with as little labor as possible. On the level ground it is made crooked in going round logs and trees, and the banks at the crossings of the creek are left too steep, and at that part of the pass properly called the kanyon, the road is taken along the side of the hill, about a mile, when it descends into the creek by a hill so steep as to require the greatest care to prevent wagons from upsetting. The difficulties of the road were much increased by the rains commencing about the time the first wagons were crossing the mountain. The failure of some of the weaker teams so discouraged others, that several wagons were left on the south side of the mountain, their owners thinking it impossible to take them through the pass. But nearly a month after the commencement of the rains, and at a time when they were falling, one of the largest wagons on the road, with 800 or 1000 lbs. in it, was drawn through the pass, and could easily have reached the prairie on this side on the second day, had not the heavy rains which fell during its passage so swollen the little creek that runs down from the pass, as to endanger the wetting the goods at one of the last crossings.
"Road to Oregon," Oregon Spectator, Oregon City, March 18, 1847, page 1   Attributed to Jesse Applegate.


    The party that went back the southern route [in 1847] consisted of thirteen persons; the spring was late, which caused us some trouble in crossing streams, swales and mountains. We passed through the Umpqua Canyon where the emigrants of [1846] saw such hard times, as graphically described by J. Quinn Thornton in his book on Oregon. We found many carcasses and wagons, pieces of wagons, crockery and everything that it was possible for emigrants to have on a trip of that kind, which strewed the highway and byway and especially at camping places. Indians had carried off all they wanted of this plunder; still there was a great deal left along the road to show what they had endured and suffered on that short road of a little over twelve miles.
Samuel A. Clarke, "Pioneer Days: A Third Article Relative to the Adventures of Joseph Watt," Oregonian, Portland, September 27, 1885, page 2


    The party returning to the States by the Southern route had passed through the kenyon and were camped at the head of it on the 14th of May. They were in good health and spirits and gratified with the trip, as we learn by letters from them.
Oregon Spectator, Oregon City, June 10, 1847, page 2


    Nothing of importance transpired in passing through the Rogue River country [in 1847], although there was a good many Indians with us most of the time. We got through the Canyon with but little trouble, although it was such a bugaboo to the emigration the year before.
Thomas Smith, Wilbur, Oregon 1884, Mss 806, Oregon Historical Society Research Library


    By a few days' labor [the emigrants] so far improved the road through the Umpqua Mountain that 8 of the wagons came the whole distance to the prairie, on the north side, in a day (mark that!), and the remainder had but a mile or two to travel on the following morning.
Jesse Applegate, Oregon Spectator, Oregon City, October 14, 1847, page 2


    T. [October 19th. In about one m. we crossed the river and left it after following it about 50 ms. in all. Passed among the bluffs and camped after a distance of abut 12 ms. Some of the Indians are yet following us. Their room is better than their company.
    W. 20th. Upon leaving camp we soon came to a fine creek. Then bad roads ensued (rough hilly and sideling) but by night we were in a valley with good camping ground at hand. Distance 8 ms.
    Thurs 21. Today we had bad roads and reached a good camping ground at dark. Distance 9 ms.
    F. 22. We today made about 8 ms. farther and camped at the entrance of the Umpqua Mtns. During the day we followed a creek and passed several fine pieces of grass.
    S. 23. Today we entered the worst roads we ever traveled and made only 6 ms. by dark.
    Sun. 24. Continued over these horrible roads and dark found some or most of the company in the timber. Only 5 wagons got through. The rest had to keep their animals over another night without feed. Distance today 5 ms.
    M. 25. This morning after 1½ ms. of toiling over these horrible roads they all reached the valley after upsets, breakdowns and losses of various kinds. 2½ ms. today.
    T. 26th. This morning we moved about 2 ms. down the creek (or one branch of the Umpqua River) and camped for the day to wait for those who were back after lost cattle, broken wagons &c. Last night was rainy but today is clear.
    W. 27. Last night was another showery night, but today is clear. The rainy season appears to have commenced & today we made about 4 ms. down the river.
Lester Hulin diary 1847, Southern Oregon Historical Society MS 485, folder 1


    MORE IMMIGRANTS.--By the subjoined letter it will be seen that another company of immigrants have arrived in the valley by the Southern route--making a surprisingly short trip--having left the States the 22d of last June. "The almost impassable Kanyon" is certainly being redeemed.
    DEAR SIR--I have the pleasure to announce to you the safe arrival by the Southern route of a fourth company of immigrants of 20 or more wagons. This party left St. Joseph on the 22d June and being in the rearward of so large an immigration fared but badly until they took the S. route.--Finding on it abundance of feed, their teams rapidly recruited, and upon their arrival here were in fine condition. [Apparently the previous season's heavy rains encouraged a lush growth of grass for 1847's emigrants.] From the best information I can get they have made the most saving trip that has ever yet been made from Fort Hall, having lost but four animals on the road (which were stolen by Indians.)--The party kept up no guard, and it is remarkable they lost no more; a woman was wounded in the arm by an arrow. So terrible had the kanyon been described to them that they were expecting daily to arrive at it until they came into the settlements, and declare there is no kanyon on the road. They brought with them 80 sheep.
    Here are some interesting particulars relative to the arrival of the last companies on the Southern route, received too late for insertion in our last paper.
    A company of 16 wagons, under the direction of Mr. Gordon, left the forks of the road on the 27th day of August, bound for California. They met the party of Com. Stockton, who advised them to keep the Southern route to Oregon, until they arrived at the Sacramento river, and by descending it they would avoid the Sierra Nevada. They followed his advice, but after laying by one week at that river examining the country, they concluded it would be safer to follow the road to Oregon. While lying at the Sacramento a party of 11 wagons passed them on their way to Oregon (the party of Mr. Davis); they did not overtake this party, but they arrived in the Willamette valley on the morning of the 25th of October, being two days less than two months on the road including all stoppages and lying a whole week in one camp. The small party starting in behind and getting through before them having made the trip much sooner.
Oregon Spectator, Oregon City, November 25, 1847, page 2


[May] 9th 1848 Movd 13 Miles
through the umpeaw Mountain
Bad Road through the
Canyan Crossed the
Canyan Creek 65 times
in Six Miles this is
the worst Place in
the world
 
10th Movd 20 Miles and
Campt on the South
Side of the Mountains
Between Rogue River
and the umpeaw
Bad Road hilly and
Stony
Diary of Andrew Jackson Poe, 1847-1858, volume 3


    After crossing the south Umpqua [in April 1849], we enter the Umpqua mountains, and pass through into what is called a "canyan." We enter this canyan at the mouth of a small river, and travel up this mountain-bound stream, crossing it some 25 times, and lastly traveling in its bed a short distance, when we fall in upon the head of another small river, leading south. Following this stream down a few miles brings us into a handsome little valley. It is a hard day's drive through this canyan.
Benjamin Cleaver, "Correspondence of the Telegraph," letter datelined Oregon City, March 4, 1850, in Alton Telegraph & Democratic Review, July 26, 1850, page 1


    We organized at Oregon City and set out on the 1st of May, 1850, for the gold mines of California. Our route lay up the Willamette Valley, sometimes on traveled trails, sometimes on trails of our own making. Nothing of importance, or even of much interest, occurred, except such as romantic youth experience in passing through so beautiful and diversified a country as the Willamette Valley, until we came to a canyon through which we had to pass from the Umpqua to the valley of the Rogue River. The distance through was about twelve miles. The trail led up the winding creek, which it crossed dozens of times. Often it followed the tortuous rocky bed of the creek for hundreds of yards at a time. We entered the canyon about 8 o'clock in the morning, and so difficult was the passage that we did not get through until 5 in the afternoon. Our horses, of which we had fifteen--a riding animal for each one of us, and five more to pack our equipage--were very much fatigued. We were exhausted, for we walked nearly the whole distance, and often were compelled to lift our pack horses, almost bodily, up the many steep ascends which we met in the trail. When we came out of the canyon we saw a creek (Cow Creek) ahead of us, and to our left as we passed out at the base of the low hills on our right. As soon as we could descend we made our way to the creek and made camp in a beautiful grove of white and black oak trees which grew on the flat near the creek, which was wide, yet shallow, at the numerous riffles.
S. K. Johnson, quoted in O. W. Olney, "Captain Benjamin Wright," Sunday Oregonian, Portland, September 27, 1885, page 3

    On our arrival at the north end of the great Umpqua Canyon [in January 1851], where Canyonville now stands, we had some difficulty with the Indians. We had late in [the] afternoon killed a fine buck and made camp late. Built large log fire, all hands roasting venison. One man by name Charley Johnson had a fine piece roasted and sat on one of the wagon tongues leaning back against the box of the wagon to eat his supper when he was shot at by two Indian arrows, both striking in the wagon not more than four inches from his head. We all seized our guns and sprang into the dark but could not hear nor see anything of them; was not disturbed any more that night.
   The next three days was spent in getting through the Canyon, which was in a state of nature with the exception of some logs and brush had been cut out. There had not even been any grading done, and the travel on the north end had to go the most of the way in the bed of the creek, occasionally meeting obstructions in the bed of the creek [that] we could not pass over in way of falls or large boulders where we had to ascend and descend over some of the steepest points that it ever had been my lot to witness before. At the south end of the Canyon we went into camp to restore teams and dry our clothing. I do not think there was a man in the company had a dry garment on him. We had, all hands of us, to get in the creek, and a great many times to lift the wagons over boulders and other obstructions that it was impossible for the teams to pull over.
John A. Cardwell, Cardwell's Emigrant Company, 1879


    [In February 1851 or 1852] "I was greatly disappointed when we did strike the . . . 'Great Columbian Trail,' for I had expected to see a wide beaten road, but, on the contrary, it was by no means so well defined as a sheep track, though now and then there were marks of wheels. Soon we overtook a cattle train from the Columbia, with three or four wagons drawn by oxen. The manner in which the Oregon men got their two-wheeled wagons through streams and mountain passes is truly wonderful. When the trail gets so bad the oxen can no longer draw the laden wagons, it is the commonest of incidents to 'hump' their load, piece by piece, for perhaps half a mile, where even a perambulator would be in danger. The indomitable perseverance is wonderful. Sometimes they are compelled to hew a way through the forest, now to construct a corduroy road over the morass. It is done without a grumble. At first I used to be surprised to see the mark of only one tire along the sloping crest of a precipice, and, in spite of the cattle tracks accompanying it, imagined it must be a wheelbarrow, as the idea of taking a wagon along a slope at an angle as sharp as the roof of a house seemed incredible. Yet such was really the act, for I found out afterward that it was quite usual for these energetic voyageurs to uphold by main force the outer wheel of the wagon while the inside wheel alone touched the ground for long distances at a time along the edge of the precipice, and where else it must have consigned every wagon and its oxen to destruction."
    In our last installment of an unidentified English writer's account of following early trails in Oregon, we left the heroic party on the "great Columbian trail." The narrative continues: "There was, however, one part of the trail we had yet to pass which even those hardy men dreaded. This was the 'Great Canyon Creek.' Indeed, so much was said about it by all the travelers we met or overtook that it became my bête noir, and I longed, yet feared, to arrive at it. . . . After three days traversing this devious trail, much intersected by streams that caused great delays in fording, we came to a halt on the prairie close to Canyon Creek which was represented, as far as I could see, by a gloomy mountain range. On this prairie we found several horses, mule and cattle trains camped. It is usual to attempt this dangerous pass in company with other parties so that each can render the others assistance when required."
    The party stayed over on Sunday, the day of rest, and "Long before daylight on Monday everybody was up, getting breakfast and making preparation for the start and taking advantage of every minute of daylight, which is absolutely required for the passage of the Great Canyon. My heart beat faster with anxiety as our party, having the least encumbrance, led the way into the deep gloomy mountain gorge which is the mouth of the canyon. A rapid stream ran at the right hand, but as we advanced the mountain sides got higher and more precipitous and seemed closing in upon us. At last we came to a dead standstill, for there was an end to terra firma and before us lay nothing but a deep stream, fiercely and noisily tearing along, throwing its spray over the huge boulders which studded its bed and appeared above its current. 'Hello!' sang out one of ours to those behind, 'which way now?' 'Right away up stream' was the reply. Right away up stream! I began to believe in the Canyon Creek. It was evident there was an end to equestrianship for some time to come, so dismounting we drove our animals into the water and followed ourselves, and thus half-swimming, half-wading, our painful journey began. How am I to describe the scene that ensued? As I have said, our party was the lightest, having neither pack animals nor wagons, yet we had quite enough to do to push on, for the rapid stream was very irregular and, now and then, a deep pool occurred into which man and horse would flounder. But whenever a halt took place the cry was forward! Staggering, tumbling, scrambling and splashing, on we pressed. Now a pack mule or horse would fall under its load and drown ere it could be released. Load and animal were left to lie together. Then a wagon would break down and the wreck and its contests were abandoned--for, with hostile Indians at hand, no one cared to linger. The pass must be accomplished before nightfall, so as vehicles and animals gave out, the struggling, fighting, tumultuous and desperate crowd swept over them."
"Following an Old Trail," Oakland Tribune, January 4, 1940, page 15; also "A Dangerous Pass," Oakland Tribune, January 14, 1940, page 91, quoting an 1862 issue of Leisure Hour


    At the [north] end of the valley, at the mouth of the dreaded canyon, we found Joe Knott waiting for wayfarers [in the spring of 1851], and that was the outermost post of Oregon civilization, only planted there at the intimation that the California travel had money in it.
    Climbing the Umpqua Mountains consisted of wading through Canyon Creek over a hundred times, at crossings, and marching up against the current for a goodly distance, with an occasional abrupt climb of one to four feet of rocky ledge, where the wagons and their loads had to be lifted bodily over the obstructions.
S. A. Clarke, "Overland to California in 1851," The West Shore, Portland, August 1, 1879, page 2


    It appears that the Oregon mines are a reality. The Sacramento Transcript of May 15th says:
    "We are informed by Gen. McCarver, who has just arrived from Oregon, that at least one-half of the people of the Territory have left the farms and towns, and have gone or are going to the mines. . . . At the last advices there were at least a hundred wagons and several hundred miners waiting at the canyon between the Umpqua and Rogues' River valleys, on account of the high water. So soon as the stream falls they will pass through."
"The Oregon Gold Mines--A Reality," Weekly Wisconsin, Milwaukee, July 2, 1851, page 5


    The streets of Oregon City and Portland are, at the present time, filled with pack animals and wagons, which are continually loading up and pushing off for the mines. . . . At the last advice there were at least a hundred wagons and several hundred miners waiting at the canyon between the Umpqua and Rogues' River valleys, on account of the high water. So soon as the stream falls they will pass through.
"The Oregon Gold Mines," Fort Wayne Times, July 17, 1851, page 1


    It had been a tiresome day of travel [southward in May 1851]. Since dawn we had climbed Umpqua Mountain, descending through the terrible gorge of Canyon Creek, which stream we forded lengthwise, three miles, at one time, and crossed in all one hundred times. Our wagons had been lifted up the minor precipices that the stream threw itself over. At noon we reached the beautifully wooded summit of Umpqua Mountain; then, following the sun towards the evening we went down, and down, winding out upon the ridges and into the hollows, following smoother acclivities, and early in the afternoon camped beside a rippling stream upon as beautiful a prairie as stock ever grazed on. Our tired beasts were turned loose and gave way to exuberant frolic. Sober oxen bellowed and made pretense of play; cayuse ponies vied with sedate team horses in antics among grasses that almost hid them, in which they lay and rolled with perfect realization of equine and bovine luxury.
    Our tents were being pitched where rushes offered a luxurious bed; our fires were kindled for the coming meal; all was rest and jollity. The terrors of Umpqua Canyon were an oft-told tale that had preceded the journey; something we had apprehended, but now, the great mountain was behind us and the dreaded bugbear of the journey was no more.
S. A. Clarke, "On the Klamath," Sunday Oregonian, April 5, 1885, page 1


    Our tents were pitched and fires made to cook a meal, for the mountain travel had been wearisome [in early June 1851]. Canyon Creek came down its deep ravine for weary miles and had to be crossed over 90 times. At one place it leaped a rocky ledge with the greatest ease. It was a delightful little waterfall, or cascade, but it chanced that our only way up was to lift our wagons bodily over that same ledge, which was useful as teaching a lesson in the law of gravitation. It was easy enough to descend the south side, and it seems we were closely followed by another party, wherein were some young fellows who celebrated their climb through the canyon by firing guns and pistols, and uttering all sorts of whoops and yells. Down in the valley below their discordant sounds told of war. We imagined that some party following us was ambushed on the mountain and fighting for life, so we all rushed to arms, and were trying to face the music as bravely as possible when the advance guard came in sight and relieved our fears.
S. A. Clarke, "In Southern Oregon," Sunday Oregonian, February 10, 1895, page 6


    [In June 1851] Canyon creek came down its deep ravine for weary miles and had to be crossed over 90 times. At one place it leaped a rocky ledge with the greatest ease. It was a delightful little waterfall, or cascade, but it chanced that our only way up was to lift our wagons bodily over that same ledge, which was useful as teaching a lesson in the law of gravitation. It was easy enough to descend the south side, and it seems we were closely followed by another party, wherein were some young fellows who celebrated their climb through the canyon by firing guns and pistols, and uttering all sorts of whoops and yells. Down in the valley below their discordant sounds told of war. We imagined that some party following us was ambushed on the mountain and fighting for life, so we all rushed to arms, and were trying to face the music as bravely as possible when the advance guard came in sight and relieved our fears.
Sunday Oregonian, February 10, 1895, page 6


    My agency . . . is naturally divided into two districts, the Rogue River & the Umpqua district, separated by a high range of mountains known as the Kenion Range, nowhere as yet passed by carriages except through the Kenion, a passage by this time well known on this coast, but by no means a difficult one in the dry season. Another practicable route has been lately discovered E. of the Kenion by Major Kearny under the guidance of Jesse Applegate Esq.
Indian agent H. H. Spalding, August 25, 1851, Microcopy of Records of the Oregon Superintendency of Indian Affairs, Reel 11, Instructions and Reports 1850-1855, page 45.


    With our train [in 1851] was a man whose eccentricities afterward made him well known to the early settlers of southern Douglas county. When introducing himself he would say, "I am Charles W. Beckwith of York state." His vernacular was of the down east Yankee. No one was ever known to tell a story or make a statement so extraordinary that Beckwith could not exceed it by something that had come under his personal observation, mostly "back in York state."
    Beckwith settled upon the land that is now owned by J. A. Worthington east of Canyonville and many of the Baron Munchausen Beckwith stories are still current in that neighborhood.
    Beckwith was nervous or energetic in his movement and had a peculiar manner of driving his ox team. His near wheel ox was named Colonel--an old brindle ox that seemed to be discouraged with life in this world and was in no hurry to arrive at his destination in Oregon. Beckwith would walk up to the leaders of his team, then turn around and walk rapidly back and give Colonel a cut of the whip in the flank, saying, "Gee up, Carnel behind here. What you about?" This he would repeat hundreds of times a day, and in doing so walked about one and a half times across the plains.
    He became noted for his Yankee tricks in securing advantages, so on the morning we started through the canyon he was off in the lead, out of his turn, saying that the road would be so narrow that other teams could not pass him, so would be obliged to help him through. At that time the road or trail followed the creek from the south end to the summit, crossing small streams many times, through heavy timber.
    Our train had not advanced far until we came upon Beckwith with his team stuck in the mud. "Carnel" was hopelessly mired and refused to make an effort. There was a lot of unprintable language indulged in, not complimentary to Mr. Beckwith. "Carnel" was pulled out of the mud, and his train got around Beckwith some way and made him take his proper place among the hindmost teams. I would say here that by arrangement, in our train, each family took their turn in leading. The last I remember of the poor old "Carnel" he was lying beside the trail. A yoke of oxen was no doubt supplied from other teams to help the Beckwith family through.
    Our train made fair progress until we arrived at a point where the south end of the Hildebrand grade connects with the old road. There we passed over a ridge on the north side of the creek, then down a steep hill in the bed of the creek. At this hill ropes were attached to the wagons, with men holding, to prevent the wagons running onto teams or overturning. On reaching the creek bed our route lay right in the bed for one and a half miles, the slope of the mountains coming right down to the water on both sides. Now, do not imagine that the creek bed was a smooth, pebbly bottom. On the contrary, it was covered with boulders from the size of a pumpkin to a haycock. I recall that the lead teams, on being let down onto the creek, moved right on without reference to those behind.
    It was about four o'clock in the afternoon that our teams left the creek's bed. We had then made about five miles. At this point we met some men who had come up from Knott's station near Canyonville, to help us through the canyon.
    I might say that somewhere on Rogue River an Indian boy about my age had joined our train and had attached himself to me and that during the day one wheel of my light wagon had passed over his foot and I had him ride in my wagon. One of the men, seeing me, a boy, driving a yoke of oxen, thought it a chance to help, took my whip and started Bill and John at a faster gait than usual. The result was the wagon was overturned before he had made a hundred yards and my Indian boy friend was rolled into the creek.
    At this point I was sent ahead with the loose stock, arriving at the north end of the canyon after dark. A part of the train had come through and were camped just across the bridge south from Canyonville.
    I don't remember where I slept that night, but I am sure I was supperless, but found friends next morning who gave me breakfast.
    By noon of the second day our teams had arrived at camp after passing the worst ten miles of road between the Missouri river and civilization in Oregon, for here we found the first house in Oregon.
    Some of my readers know of the conditions of this canyon road for the last fifty years--changes that have been made costing hundreds of thousands of dollars. Many of you know of the improvements that are being made at this time that will be completed within the year, costing over two hundred thousand dollars. When paved it will only be a thirty-minute drive with an automobile over one of the finest scenic roads in the world.
    We arrived at Canyonville September 20.
George W. Riddle, History of Early Days in Oregon, 1920, pages 28-30


    "In the late '40s and early '50s the hardest and most nearly impassable 10 miles on the entire trip between the Missouri River and the Willamette Valley was the 10-mile stretch through the canyon south of Canyonville in Southern Oregon," said Judge G. W. Riddle, when I interviewed him recently. "We came up the bed of this stream in the late summer of 1851. The hills descend abruptly to the stream, making it necessary, for a part of the distance, to travel in the bed of the stream itself. This was strewn with smooth, round boulders ranging in size from a tar bucket to a tub, so that the oxen were constantly floundering and falling, and unless great care was used the wagons were overturned. The men walked on both sides of the stream with ropes fastened to the sides of the wagons to keep them from tipping over. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were spent by the government when military roads were being made in Oregon prior to the Civil War, and other hundreds of thousands have been spent by the federal government, the state and the county in improving the road through the canyon south of Canyonville. Today you can go in half an hour over a beautifully paved road through the canyon, while 75 years ago it took one to two days, and it was a nerve-wracking, heart-breaking experience. We reached Canyonville on September 20, 1851."
Fred Lockley, "Impressions and Observations of the Journal Man," Oregon Journal, Portland, August 14, 1925, page 8


   We left Oregon City four days later, (about September 25th, 1851) in company with Mr. Joseph Goodwin who also fitted up an ox team bound for Yreka, California. The names of the party were: Farmer, Quinn, Henry Klippel, Joseph Goodwin and Fox. Farmer's wagon was loaded with blacksmith's outfit, iron, etc. Goodwin's with billiard table and saloon fixtures both considered necessary adjuncts in a few mining camps at that time. Nothing transpired worth mentioning until we passed through Umpqua canyon. Farmer's wagon being heavily loaded, broke an axle which was replaced by another made out of a fir sapling, and answered its purpose for about two miles, when it twisted off; this occurred twice more which made our journey through the canyon consume five days and necessitated the driving of our cattle out to grass. Mr. Farmer ordered me to remain with wagons. A drizzling rain or mist prevailed continuously; there never was any sunshine! Finally we pulled out and arrived at Goodwin's camp about noon of the fifth day.
Henry Klippel, Medford Enquirer, February 9, 1901


Oct. 27th 1851
    The canion of the Umpqua mountain is 2½ miles east of south of my house. (I broke one wheel of my wagon in the Umpqua canion and lay there 2 nights. The canion is very narrow in many places 2 wagons cannot pass. The mountains are 6 or 8 thousand feet high on each side and very steep. It is 12 miles through and the worst road of the same length in the world.)
Journal of Isaac A. Flint, accessed 2/3/2016


    The trail of the canyon [in November 1851] was extraordinary in all its features. To this day remnants of the old trail may be seen, and an old pioneer even, should he take a retrospective glance back to the times when trains and herds and wagons too were conveyed along the dismal channel, must be constrained to remark with the renowned James II--and with as much force--Est-il-possible! Eleven miles of incessant struggle brought us out to the south end of the canyon, where now stands the dwelling of the Hon. Hardy Elliff.
O. W. Olney, "Thirty-Four Years Ago," Oregonian, Portland, January 10, 1886, page 3


    [In the spring of 1852] we located on a claim near Canyonville, in Douglas County. We would have gone farther south, but the road through the "Canyon" seemed too formidable for our one yoke of oxen, and we were compelled to stop. The twelve miles of road immediately south of Canyonville follows a swift mountain stream, and in those days was but little more than a "pack" trail..
William M. Colvig, "Annual Address," Transactions of the Forty-Fourth Annual Reunion of the Oregon Pioneer Association, 1916, pages 342-343


    The route through the Canyon (so called) is chiefly traveled, except in high water, when an arduous mountain trail is used. Passing from the scenery which I have described [in late May 1852], the Canyon has little of interest for the eye, or comfort for the body. Its difficulties are deep mud, steep hills and frequent crossings of the creek on a bed of rocks, angular and uneven. The crossings, I was told, are seventy-three, besides a mile or two directly in the bed of the stream. The distance through is twelve miles, and is rode at this season of the year without difficulty in four hours. A man not used to such roads would think it impassable for wagons, and I suppose it is so, drawn by horses. They flounder in the mud too much, but ox teams perform it daily. Four or five pair of oxen will drawn through ten to fifteen hundred pounds.
Nathaniel Coe, "The Territory of Oregon," Steuben Courier, Bath, New York, September 8, 1852, pages 1-2


    Over these mountains no very comfortable road has yet been found and opened. The route by the Kanyon, so called, is chiefly used, except in stages of high water, when a rugged mountain trail is taken. Passing from the scenery which I have described, the Kanyon has nothing of interest to the eye, and certainly its passage has little of comfort for the body; yet the traveler has one comfortable and very frequent reflection; when his horse has floundered through a mud hole, passed over a piece of pointed, uneven rocks, or toiled up an acclivity, he feels gratified that one less obstacle is to be encountered. I commenced to count the crossings of the creek, but lost my count between 40 and 50. A packer said there are 73 crossings, besides traveling a mile or two directly in its bed. We followed up Kanyon Creek nine miles, thence down a small creek three miles to the valley of Cow Creek. Notwithstanding the unpleasantness of this passage, there is no real difficulty in riding through it at this season of the year, when it is very good for "the Kanyon." It is only four hours ride.
Nathaniel Coe, "Umpqua and Rogue River Valleys," Oregonian, Portland, July 3, 1852, page 2


    A new post office has been established in Canyonville, at the mouth of the Canyon--C. E. Chrisman, Postmaster. The mail is to be carried to this place after July 1st, 35 miles beyond Winchester.
Oregon Weekly Times, Portland, June 26, 1852, page 2


    There was, however, one part of the trail we had yet to pass, which even these hardy men dreaded. This was the passage of the Great Cañon Creek. Indeed, so much was said about it by all the travelers we met or overtook, that it became my bête noir, and I longed yet feared to arrive at it. . . .
    After three days traversing the devious trail [in July 1852], much intersected by streams, that caused great delay in fording, we came to a halt on a prairie close to the Cañon Creek, which was represented, as far as I could see, by a gloomy mountain range. On this prairie we found several horse, mule, and cattle trains camped, as it is usual to attempt this dangerous pass in company with other parties, so that each can render the other assistance when required. As the morrow was Sunday, it was agreed by all that it should be a day of rest for man and horse, to recruit their strength for the work before them.
    Long before daylight on Monday morning everybody was up, getting breakfast and making preparations for the start, in order to take advantage of every minute of daylight, which is absolutely required for the passage of the great Cañon. My heart beat faster with anxiety, as our party, having the least encumbrances, led the way into the deep, gloomy mountain gorge, which is the mouth of the Cañon. A rapid stream ran at our right hand; but as we advanced, the mountain's sides got higher and more precipitous, and seemed closing in upon us. At last we came to a dead standstill, for there was an end of terra firma, and before us there lay nothing but a deep stream, fiercely and noisily tearing along, throwing its spray over the huge boulders of rocks which studded its bed and appeared above the current.
    "Hallo!" sung out one of "ours" to those behind, "which way now?"
    "Right away upstream," was the reply.
    Right away upstream! I began to believe in the Cañon Creek. It was evident there was an end of equestrianship for some time to come; so, dismounting, we drove our animals into the water and followed ourselves, and thus, half swimming, half wading, our painful journey began. How am I to describe the scene that ensued! As I have said before, our party was the lightest, having neither pack animals nor wagons; yet we had quite enough to do to push on, for the bed of the rapid stream was very irregular, and every now and then a deep pool occurred, into which man and horse would flounder. But whenever, through this or other obstacles, a slight halt took place, "forward" was the hoarse cry that arose, and staggering, tumbling, scrambling, and splashing, on we pressed. Now, a pack mule or horse would fall under its load, and was drowned ere it could be released: load and animal were left to lie together. Then, a wagon would break down, and the wreck and its contents were abandoned; for, with hostile Indians at hand, no one cared to linger. The passage must be accomplished ere nightfall. So, as vehicles and animals gave out, the struggling, fighting, tumultuous and desperate crowd swept over them.
    This fierce struggle was rendered all the more gloomy by the shade which the high mountain walls on either hand cast over us. Half the day and half the passage were accomplished about the same time, and, the ordeal of water being at an end, that of mud commenced. In a word, having arrived at the end of the stream, the remaining portion of six miles lay through a deep sea of thick liquid mud. In making this change, we only got from bad to worse, for the opaque, oleaginous semifluid liquid through which we now floundered concealed deep and treacherous holes, which it was impossible to avoid, and in a short time men and animals had all the appearance of animated plaster casts. Many animals were lost in these quagmires, in which they would get mired down, in some cases with only their poor mud-bedaubed heads and ears above the surface. The Spanish muleteers, of which one or two were generally attached to the large trains, in these emergencies upheld their name as the best muleteers in the world. When a mule or horse was mired down, they would strip to the skin, dive unhesitatingly into the pool of mud, knife in hand, and cut away loads and saddles; then ropes would be attached to the unencumbered animals, and they would be dragged from their perilous position. If, however, the pack animals once lost their footing in the quagmires, it was all over with them; and, as if they were aware of their danger, the piteous looks and cries of those that found themselves gradually succumbing was heartbreaking in the extreme.
    It was quite nightfall when, weary and exhausted, our mud-stained cavalcade emerged from the Cañon, and camped on a little prairie beyond. On counting losses, it was found that five wagons and about thirty head of cattle had been left behind. My own party had passed scathless. The next day we halted, while a fatigue party retraced their steps to try to save some of the property that had been abandoned; but they returned, I believe with very bad success. That day, by the camp fire, I heard many a curious legend of the Great Cañon Creek.
Anonymous, "My Adventures in the Far West," serialized in The Leisure Hour, London, 1862, pages 110-123


    Umpqua Kanyon.--On Monday, Aug. 9th, [1852,] we entered the famous Kanyon. It is a deep, long gorge, or pass, through the mountains which divides the Umpqua from the Rogue's River Valley. It is said to be at its best estate, and is bad enough even now. The general course is from north to south. We pass up the channel of a creek for about nine miles, until we reach the summit, and then gradually descend.
    Crossing a Creek.--We crossed this creek about ninety-seven times, and traveled many hundred yards directly up the rocky bed. By 2 o'clock we were fairly through, and glad enough to be delivered. Paid 75 cents each for a poor dinner in a rum-shop. This we thought decidedly better than starvation. Our course now lay more to the west again, some six miles, until we crossed Cow Creek, after which we resumed a southerly direction, over a very mountainous route to Grave Creek, where we camped amid vermin and vice enough to alarm our fears. The Indians of this vicinity are not to be trusted. Our horses fared badly. Next morning they were missing, and it was nine o'clock before we were ready to start. Our real toils now begin. The waters of the Kenyon had softened our horses' hoofs, and the gravel of the road had worn them very tender, so that they could scarcely travel at all.
"Journal of Rev. W. Roberts," Christian Advocate and Journal, April 23, 1853, page 62.   Rev. Roberts was traveling from north to south.


    So we started after noon [in June, 1852] to go through the canyon; we were to cross the creek 102 times in 12 or 14 miles, and it must have been a fearful drive to go through with oxen and heavy wagons. We found it hard enough with saddle horses. . . . We pushed on to get to Mr. Knott's hotel and sawmill at the north of the canyon, at the west side
of the mountains, at a little town called Canyonville. We got to Knott's just before sundown. . . .
Doyce B. Nunis, ed., The Golden Frontier: The Recollections of Herman Francis Reinhart 1851-1869, written 1887, published 1962, page 41


    We started in May [1852] from Independence, Mo., and came by the southern route, coming into the Rogue River Valley. I remember we came through a big canyon between the Cow Creek country and Canyonville. We took the bed of the creek for 13 miles, and we certainly had some pretty rough going. In places we would chain the wheels and tie a heavy tree to the back of the wagon to act as a brake. In those days they did not shoe oxen, and our cattle had such tender feet that they could hardly travel. We finally got completely out of provisions. My father came out to meet us in the Rogue River Valley. We settled at Canyonville. I can remember so plainly in those days the smoke of the Indian fires was always in sight.
James C. Fullerton, quoted by Fred Lockley, "In Earlier Days," Oregon Journal, Portland, May 30, 1913, page 9


    Elk River skirts the northern side of the valley, cutting off spurs of the Calapooya Mountains. The North Umpqua passes more centrally through it, and the South Umpqua flows along the base of the Umpqua Mountains.
    Over these mountains no very comfortable road has yet been found and opened. The route by the Kanyon, so called, is chiefly used, except in stages of high water, when a rugged mountain trail is taken. Passing from the scenery which I have described, the Kanyon has nothing of interest to the eye, and certainly its passage has little of comfort for the body; yet the traveler has one comfortable, and very frequent reflection; when his horse has floundered through a mud hole, passed over a place of pointed, uneven rocks, or toiled up an acclivity, he feels gratified that one less obstacle is to be encountered. I commenced to count the crossings of the creek, but lost my count between 40 and 50. A packer said there are 73 crossings, besides traveling a mile or two directly in its bed. We followed up Kanyon Creek nine miles, thence down a small creek three miles to the valley of Cow Creek. Notwithstanding the unpleasantness of this passage, there is no real difficulty in riding through it at this season of the year, when it is very good for "the Kanyon." It is only four hours ride.
N. Coe, "Umpqua and Rogue River Valleys," Weekly Oregonian, Portland, July 3, 1852, page 2


    On our way to the mines [in October 1852] we passed through what is known as the Canyon in the mountain spur that separates the Umpqua country from the Rogue River country. People now passing through this canyon scarcely appreciate the difficulties attending the passage which then existed. The canyon is formed by two streams, both heading in a small pond or lake at the summit of the mountain; the one that flows northward is called Canyon Creek. It was then crossed eighty-four times by the road. The other stream flowed southward and was crossed by way of the road over sixty times. In the rainy season, and especially when the mountains were covered, or blockaded with snow, the passage was almost impossible. The passage was strewn with the wrecks of wagons and the bones of horses and mules. Subsequently, Congress made an appropriation of $40,000 for a military road through this mountain gorge. This money was faithfully expended by General Hooker. The distance through the canyon is about nine miles. General Hooker built the military road on the side of the mountain. In quite a number of places you can sit in the stage and look down into a nearly perpendicular and sunless abyss hundreds of feet in depth. Large sums of money have since been expended by toll corporations to keep this military road passable and in repair.
Memoirs of Orange Jacobs, 1908, pages 68-69


    The Rogue River Valley lies south from the Umpqua Valley, and is separated from it by the Umpqua Mountain, and a succession of mountain ridges and narrow valleys. This mountain is high, precipitous, and rough--it is heaved up into high peaks, with intervening low gaps, through one of which a wagon road has been made, and with a small appropriation from government, judiciously applied, an excellent road might be made.
John M. Forrest, "Description of Oregon," Weekly Oregonian, Portland, September 25, 1852, page 1


    The winter of 1852 was severe. At one time we had over 20 travelers staying in our house who were trail-bound, not being able to go through the 12-mile canyon. Mother kept two kettles over the fireplace all the time, one filled with boiled wheat, the other with venison, so our guests had plenty to eat, even if there wasn't much variety.
William M. Colvig, quoted by Fred Lockley, Oregon Journal, Portland, May 12, 1927, page 16


    Mr. Hardin presented petition of John Butch, and 379 others, praying for charter for plank road through the canyon.
"Oregon Legislature," Oregon Statesman, Oregon City, February 5, 1853, page 1


    The canion of the Umpqua mountain is 2½ miles east of south of my house. I broke one wheel of my wagon in the Umpqua canion [in 1853] and lay there 2 nights. The canion is very narrow in many places 2 wagons cannot pass. The mountains are 6 or 8 thousand feet high on each side and very steep. It is 12 miles through and the worst road of the same length in the world.
"Golden Gate to Columbia River on the Bark Keoka: Isaac A. Flint's Journal," Oregon Historical Quarterly, March 1962, page 52




    On seeing us start [in August 1853] the Indians started in the same direction we were going, expecting, no doubt, that they would be able to head us off by the time we reached the divide in the canyon, which was about three miles distant from the south end. Many of the Indians were on foot, some were mounted on ponies, but we were confident that we could beat them to the divide, as our path was free from brush and good, while theirs was through the brush. We made as fast time as good, strong horses could carry us, the loose horses following closely after the bell.
George E. Cole, "A Pioneer's Recollections," Oregonian, February 3, 1901, page 23


    MILITARY ROAD.--Maj. Alvord of the U.S.A., who has been appointed by the Executive of the United States to survey and open the road from the mouth of Myrtle Creek, Umpqua County, to Camp Stuart on Rogue River, has gone to the southern portion of Oregon for the purpose of commencing operations, and will, no doubt, push the work forward with all possible dispatch.
Sacramento Daily Union, August 18, 1853, page 2


    Major B. Alvord, U.S. Army, is ordered to construct a road "from the mouth of Myrtle Creek, Umpqua Valley, to Camp Stuart, Rogue River Valley." He accordingly left this place on the 6th inst. for the place of beginning .We are not able to state anything relative to the starting point, any further than [that] it is in Umpqua Valley. What significance the mouth of Myrtle Creek has obtained, we are not advised. We have not heard of there being a military post established there, but we believe the law contemplates building a military road.
Oregon Spectator, Oregon City, August 19, 1853, page 2


    The last twelve miles of the disturbed section passes through what is known far and wide in this quarter [in September 1853] by the name of "the canyon." It is a very deep and narrow gorge, and is the only means of passing from the Rogue River country into the Umpqua. It has a road through it which one would think it a great achievement for a mule to get through on safely, but what was my surprise, to meet about half way through, a twelve-pounder cannon making its way along with considerable facility, by the aid of eight stout mules, and a company of mounted men, who were escorting it to the seat of war! Getting through the canyon after some six hours of as hard walking as one could well have, I came into the Umpqua, where there is no further danger from the Indians.
Letter of September 21, 1853, New York Herald, November 9, 1853, page 6


    Major Alvord and suit [sic] arrived here today, for the purpose of surveying a military road between Stuart's Creek and Myrtle Creek.
Letter from Jacksonville dated August 29, 1853 to the Yreka Mountain Herald, quoted in "The Indian Hostilities," New York Daily Tribune, October 10, 1853, page 6


    In southern Oregon, the Rogue River-Umpqua Valley route was surveyed by Major Benjamin Alvord, assisted by Jesse Applegate, during the fall of 1853. Approximately $5,000 was spent on this survey, the primary purpose of which was to find a passage avoiding the Umpqua Canyon. Failing in this, Alvord resolved to spend the remainder of the appropriation in improving the road through the canyon and the nearby Grave Creek Hills. Construction contracts were made with the Applegate brothers, Jesse and Lindsay, and with Jesse Roberts, all local residents.
W. Turrentine Jackson, "Federal Road Building Grants for Early Oregon," Oregon Historical Quarterly, March 1949, page 7


    Had it not have rained, we would have reached our destination in ten days from Salem. It was an arduous task to get the carriages along, and frequently required the twelve mules and all the men that could get round to get one of the wagons up the hills. The men did exceeding good service, and for four days were constantly at the wheel. In the Canyon, they were for the greater part of two days in mud and water, and quite a number of the men were afterwards taken sick in consequence of the exposure thus incurred.
Letter from Lt. August V. Kautz to Governor George L. Curry, September 9, 1853


    THE MILITARY ROAD.--A private letter from the south says: "Major Alvord is camped on Myrtle Creek, with his command. He has made a reconnaissance of [the] canyon and eastern route, and commences the western or Cow Creek route today. I think the canyon route will be preferred. Major A. informed me that he expected to get the work under contract this fall."
Oregon Statesman, Salem, September 20, 1853, page 2


    THE MILITARY ROAD.--Maj. Alvord was surveying the canyon route on the 15th, assisted by Jesse Applegate, whose extensive and intimate knowledge of the country has enabled him to render the party much service. Maj. A. thought the canyon route would be adopted.
Oregon Statesman, Salem, September 27, 1853, page 2


    During [1853] Major Alvord, U.S. Army, made a reconnaissance, in order to determine the line of the military road from Myrtle Creek to Rogue River. Assisted by Jesse Applegate, he examined these different routes, one east of the Umpqua Cañon, one following Cow Creek, and the Cañon itself. The route through the Umpqua Cañon was finally adopted, and the contract for building the road was let to Jesse Roberts for the distance through the Umpqua Cañon, and to Lindsay Applegate for the portion through the Grave Creek Hills. The road was to be completed by June 1854, and the work was duly performed with the money available from the appropriation by Congress--fifteen thousand dollars.
Elwood Evans, History of the Pacific Northwest: Oregon and Washington, 1889, page 423


    Major Alvord has completed the survey and location of the military road from Myrtle Creek, Umpqua Valley, to Jacksonville, Rogue River Valley. He enjoyed several weeks in explorations of the eastern and western routes, proposed to avoid the Canyon, but has chosen the latter as best overcoming the elevation. Fifteen thousand dollars remaining of the appropriation will be employed in improving the road, five thousand upon the Grave [Creek] Hills and ten thousand upon the Canyon. These are the chief obstacles in the road and if overcome or improved, the route will be quite practicable. The contract was given for the section of the road through the Grave Creek Hills from Mr. Rice's to the crossing of Cow Creek, to Lindsay Applegate. The contract for the portion through the Canyon to Jesse Roberts. The work is to be completed by June next.
    The completion of these improvements will reach the route to enter Oregon over the southern road, leaving the emigrant road at the Soda Springs a very inviting one.
    Jesse Applegate accompanied Maj. A., and rendered very valuable service.
Oregon Statesman, Salem, November 8, 1853, page 2


    The road from here through the canyon is very good; great improvements have been made on it by Mr. Jesse Applegate, who has been untiring in his exertions to improve it.
    Your excuses for not heretofore visiting this valley cannot be taken any longer, as the roads are passable from Portland to this place for wagons, carriages, buggies and good loping horses, and I am sure if you try it you will call it a pleasure trip of another sort to the one of last summer on the mountain. Come to this place first and return by way of Coos Bay and Scottsburg.
Letter to the editor from Jacksonville dated January 17, 1854, Weekly Oregonian, Portland, February 11, 1854, page 2


    It was reserved for the Canyon to outdo everything else that I ever saw in the shape of bad roads--the worst I ever saw was good when compared with it; it is bad enough always, but perhaps ten times worse when I passed through than usual. The Canyon Creek which runs through it this way from about the middle [traveling north] was booming high from the incessant rains of Saturday and Sunday, and the snows from the mountains; trees had fallen across it where the road runs in the narrow bed for a mile, and no way to get round, the rocks on each side being perpendicular and only room in the passage for the water to run--the stream was rising and after I got through this narrowest pass I was still obliged to cross and recross the stream every half and quarter mile--and it had got so high that I dared not ride it, so I drove my mare through and crossed on logs--it was so rapid that when it struck her side it washed her down every time till I thought she was about gone--but recovering she still made the land--the last time it swam her. But I am through safe and am well and comfortable. I could hardly sleep last night; the moment my eyes closed it seemed my mare and I were struggling among the rocks on the mountainside and in the foaming waters. How thankful I feel to the good lord for this merciful deliverance.
T. F. Royal, February 28, 1854 letter to his wife Mary Ann Royal, SOHS MS161, folder 1

    I never will forget this day as long as Canyon Creek continues to course its way through that frightful pass between those rocky cliffs and towering mountains.
    I entered this dismal chasm, this dark and dangerous and much-dreaded Canyon quite early in the morning, expecting to encounter difficulties greater than I had ever met before in traveling--but little did I imagine that the reality as I found it lay before me. I was told the first part was the worst. True, with its deep mud holes, logs, broken bridges, mule steps sidling, steep and rough, it was bad enough to be the worst, but it was good when compared with the last half of the road.
    It was about noon when I first entered Canyon Creek, which rises some 2 miles before you reach the middle of the Canyon. At first it was a small stream, though bold and rapid. I had no fears of this little noisy brook--but I did not think of the facts, that this is only the head of a stream, the windings of which I must now follow, crossing and recrossing scores of times every few rods for 8 miles--and that this was the only channel for the rains and melting snows that had been falling on the surrounding mountains for two or three days and nights in succession.
    The road was now beautiful when compared with what I had just passed--so on I went cheerfully and rapidly thinking I will not make a whole day's trip of this 12-mile canyon as travelers generally do, for I am over the worst now and it is quite early. I did not expect to get along so well.
    True, all this while I observed the creek was getting deeper at every crossing, but this suggested nothing to my mind, only that the increase of water must be caused by the many little tributaries that I was constantly crossing.
    At length we--I mean Spotty and I, for she, poor creature, had the worst of it--At length we came to the point where they say we have to enter and travel downstream in the bed of the creek for a mile--it was downstream, sure enough, "with a vengeance." The stream was not only rapid and boisterous, but it was muddy, so that it was impossible to see where the holes and rocks were, consequently the process of wading down it was not a little frightful and a good deal more dangerous. But for all this, we were getting along pretty well--one careful step at a time--one step at a time--oh what a careful animal this is, thought I--if she blundered along like some horses, she would soon plunge me into these furious waves--Now we are safely past this cragged point, and around this pile of rocks, and down these crazy falls--and through this foaming surf?--no, not for three quarters of a mile yet--for I can see the whitecaps as far down the stream as I can look, and that would be a great ways only that the creek is so crooked and narrow and the walls so high. Anyhow I could hear the roaring of the waters at the other end where they rush out of this crevice if they were not so noisy here. But, stop, what does this mean--well I may stop, for I can get no farther--but there's nothing like trying--but certainly this can't be the road--though it is impossible for it to be anywhere else--how do they pass this drift, and these large trees across this narrow pass, oh, I see they do not pass them at all, for they have just floated and fallen here, that large tree I see is just fresh torn up by its roots and in its fall mashed these others down with it into the stream & these old logs, floating down, have lodged against them. But I had better be contriving some plan to get through or over this pile for there is no getting round. The water is now to the girt and rising I must be quick about getting out of this or I will be helped out. No quicker said than done; I dismounted onto a floating log--and Spotty, brave as Selem, at the word of command bounded over the first tree, but the bridle rein was so short she jerked me with her, but as it happened I fell across the saddle and soon righted up--or righted down rather, for she was just in the act of crawling under the next tree which lay just high enough above the water to let us pass close to the bank by being very humble, and submitting to a good hard squeeze such as we would not like to have repeated often.
    Now, the way is clear--at any rate as clear as could be expected among these rocks in this muddy water, and in this dark, almost subterranean passage under this dense forest. on a rainy day.
    But not so clear after all--worse & worse! Here is a four-foot fir log, 8 feet long. just whirled in here crosswise and wedged in between the rocks as tight as if it had grown there. The flood is rushing underneath it, strong enough to draw a horse under if he should stumble and fall--the water is now up to my mare's breast--and the top of the log is about 18 in. above the water--Now what shall I do? This log can't be moved; neither can it be jumped. The rain is increasing, and the torrents come rushing more wildly and furiously from above. To go back against this current and over the logs already crossed would be almost if not quite impossible, and I would be afraid to stay in this dreadful place 15 minutes longer. The thought here occurs to me; i.e, one of the thousand thoughts that here rushed to my mind is this--I have often said that I never have been in a place yet so completely closed up but that by the blessing of God I got out somehow, But what shall I say now? But this was no time for idle speculation--all this time I was acting as well as thinking, for ere I was aware of it I was on top of the log, pulling at the bridle as if I expected Spotty could jump this log too and she poor creature was turning her head back upstream to signify that she could now go no farther--"This is a leap I cannot make." But the third time I pulled on the rein: as if nerved up by a consciousness of our extremity, she put forth all the strength she had and made the desperate leap--she however only succeed in getting her forefeet on top of the log--but with another desperate effort she got her body on--and now here she was--her forefeet hanging below, and her hind feet above and could not of course touch bottom with either, so as to help herself in the least--now how to get her off I did not know unless the water should rise high enough to wash her off. After resting a moment, she made another struggle and by getting her hoofs into the bark of the log she tumbled herself off on the lower side.
    After righting up all safe we turned downstream again to see what next, when suddenly I heard a loud yell behind me--I turned and saw three men who had just rode up to the log and had hailed me to know how I got over but they could not hear what I said but supposed I had come up thus far and had turned back.
    As it happened they had an ax with them and soon cut down the log enough at one end so as to get their animals over and from this on I had company, but the water and momentum of the creek was now increasing at every crossing and finally became so dangerous we dare not ride it again. So we took off our saddlebags & blankets &c., turned the horses loose and drove them through--every time we thought our horses certainly were about gone they would catch on the rocks with their forefeet and hold on as long as they could--but in spite of their struggles the watter would dash them off and send them tumbling down into the brush. They however finally all got over safe, we following at every crossing on logs and drifts carrying our loads. This was cruel & frightful, but it could not be helped. Praise God for deliverance.
[March 28, 1854]
    One month ago this morning I passed here going on down to conference, glad that I had escaped the horrors of the Canyon. I must now enter it again. Hope it is improved.
    It was about 8½ o'clock when I entered and just 12 when I got out. How changed! When I went down it took me a whole day hard work to get through, now it is a good wagon road nearly all the way--about 20 hands having been to work on it constantly ever since.
    The creek is now a clear little brook instead of a deep, rapid, muddy, dangerous stream. The logs and brush and trees are cleared out of the road, and the clouds from the sky--it does not look like the same place.
    After getting through, I tied my horse and retired a short distance from the road and knelt in prayer--after returning thanks to the Lord for preserving me amid the dangers of this place carrying me safely through and back again--I said, now Lord, as thou hast so wonderfully protected me, and brought me safe through the trying scenes of this place, so wilt thou bring me safely through the more trying scenes which I may have to pass through this year. I was enabled to believe he would.


    Maj. Alvord, from Fort Vancouver, passed through Salem on Friday last, on his way south to inspect the work done on the military road from Myrtle Creek to Rogue River Valley. Of the $20,000 appropriated by Congress to survey and construct this road, $10,000 was set apart to be expended in making a wagon road through the canyon of the Umpqua Mountains, which, if reports prove true, has been done, to the great improvement of travel in that section of country.--Statesman.
Oregon Spectator, Oregon City, May 25, 1854, page 2




    This celebrated and never-to-be-forgotten "Canyon" (by those who have passed through it) we shall not attempt to describe, except to say that "the road" is the worst specimen of that name we have ever traveled over, and trust we may never see its like again. A portion of it is emphatically a canyon--a portion a mountain of unusual steepness, and the rest an unfathomable mud-hole, infinitely worse than the "slough of despond" as described by Bunyan. Portions of broken wagons, broken ox yokes and fragments of destruction to property are scattered along the way, from one end to the other, called 10½ miles in length--but which is a hard day's journey to get through it.
"Trip to Southern Oregon," Weekly Oregonian, Portland, June 23, 1855, page 2


    NEW ROAD.--It is proposed to construct a wagon road from Umpqua to Jacksonville, Oregon, through the Big Canon. The cost is estimated at $2,000, one-half of which has already been subscribed.
Sacramento Daily Union, June 23, 1855, page 2


    [In late summer 1855] we came to the Cow Creek canyon, but the military road had not been built, and we had to travel the old road in the bed of the creek for miles. It was very rough and rugged and the hills were steep. We had traveled one day to put up camp. Next day we started, but in going up a steep hill one of the oxen stopped and trembled and we thought he had got poisoned. We cut up some sliced bacon and he didn't object to eating it and licked his tongue out for more. We gave him some more bacon and still he wouldn't go. Finally we hired another team which got us through the canyon, but we concluded it was only a trick of the old ox, as he had been raised on bacon and that was all he wanted.
Matilda Sager, A Survivor's Recollections of the Whitman Massacre, 1920, page 35


    When we got to Cow creek [in October 1855, at the beginning of the Rogue River Indian War], near the Umpqua canyon, we stopped, turned out our teams, and made preparations to camp for the night. The Indians came up and asked us if we were going to stay there all night. We told them yes. In a short time they started on, saying they were going to camp a mile or so below.
    As soon as they were out of sight, I told the teamsters we would hitch up and drive through the canyon during the night.
    But as we had already driven some forty miles that day over a rough and rugged road, our stock was tired, and the teamsters refused to hitch up their mules, declaring there was no danger, and it was only a "scare"--they didn't believe the Indians were on the war-path.
    I tried to reason with them, showing our utter inability to protect the family in case of an attack, and told them that Linville and I had planned, long before reaching Cow creek, to go into camp there, and let the Indians pass us, believing we were going to stay there all night; for, if they knew that we were going to attempt to go through the canyon that night, after traveling as far as we had that day, they would never allow us to escape; that our plans had worked well thus far, and if we remained where we were, I didn't believe there would be one of us left to tell the tale.
    Still they refused to move an inch.
    Linville stopped the argument by picking up a shotgun and saying that if they didn't hitch up and push on through the canyon, he would save the Indians some trouble, for the teams should go, "danger or no danger." This argument proved effectual, as I had in the meantime got hold of another gun. So we hitched up, and pushed on into the canyon.
    This canyon is some ten miles long, and separates what is known as "Cow Creek country" from the south Umpqua.
    In the days of which I am writing, this canyon was a terror to teamsters. It used to take three or four days to get a wagon through it. To give the reader some idea of what this canyon was at that time, I will relate a story that was current in early days.
    Some packers, while passing through this canyon, found a hat lying on the ground. One of them raised it up and found a man's head under it. The head exclaimed, "Put that hat back, there is a d----d good mule under me yet!"
    I don't vouch for the literal truth of the above, but it was not uncommon to see a whole pack train mired down, the packers unloading and carrying the cargoes to less miry ground, then helping the horses or mules out and repacking them, only to repeat the performance many times while going through this pass.
    Lieutenant Joe Hooker, later known as "Fighting Joe Hooker," afterward expended some $90,000 of government money in building a military road through this pass, and, contrary to the general rule, he did a first-class job for the money expended.
    All through that long, weary night we moved on, over rocks and through mud and water. Toward daybreak we came out at what is now Canyonville--then there was only a "hotel" there. Men, women and children were "give out," as were our mules and horses. Stripping off saddles and harness, we sank down on our blankets to rest, and slept till we were awakened about ten o'clock by a horseman, who came dashing through the canyon. He stopped and told us that the Indians had killed everybody between Jacksonville and the other end of the canyon, and burned all the houses.
George Hunter, Reminiscences of an Old Timer, 1889, pages 104-107


    Between Umpqua and Rogue River valleys there rises a cross-range known as Umpqua Mountain that has formed one of the most formidable obstacles to travel from the beginning. From Roseburg the roads were passable until they reached this mountain. There they entered a canyon, climbing its ravines, occasionally surmounting small precipices and fording somewhere near a hundred times a foaming creek that rushes down its chasms. It is a beautiful place to study nature in by day, at one's leisure, but might affright an ordinary soul by night, with only clouds to deepen the heavy blackness of its grand old forests.
    . . . It was rather a debatable land, this Umpqua Mountain and its canyon, because it formed the divide between the scenes of war and peace. There was no reason why Indians should not lie in ambush where a thousand hiding places offered them security, and slay and plunder at their own sweet will.
    True, there was no ostensible reason why Indians could not occupy the canyon and ambush unhappy wayfarers, but there happened to be known to the whites who were intimate with their life and traditions, a scrap of history that was probably preserved from the records of the Hudson's Bay Company. It is well known that Indians fear any spot that has been a scene of carnage and the dead. They never pass where a battle has been fought and their dead have lain. Very fortunately for the whites, such a tradition attaches to the Umpqua Canyon. The story is worth preserving, as a bit of legendary lore, that once upon a time the Hudson's Bay Company took exceptions to the continual robbery and treachery perpetrated by these savages and gave them a thorough whipping in a battle fought in this terrible pass. The Indians lost many killed as well as wounded. They recognized from that day the Hudson's Bay Company as their masters and were glad to make terms with them, but this discomfiture made them more savage than ever towards other whites. As a result of their superstitious ideas they found some other trail through the Umpqua Mountains, where they need not run the risk of meeting the ghosts of their friends who were slain in battle. . . .
    Their road lay for three miles up the bed of the creek and then went back and forth in continual crossings of the stream. At several places, rocky ledges crossed the ravine, over which the water leaped in cascades, and up which the rider had to clamber as he could.
"The War of '55," Sunday Oregonian, Portland, March 4, 1888, page 1    Such an encounter between the HBC and the natives is apparently otherwise unknown to history.


    I am sure you will remember the morning of October 29, 1855, when we received orders to break camp at Roseburg, and make a forced march to assist in the battle of Hungry Hill, then raging, with the odds, owing to their superior situation, in favor of the Indians. When, in going through the "Big Canyon," a distance of eleven miles, we forded the creek twenty-two times. There were no bridges, so our horses had to swim frequently.
Sam Hansaker, "Reminiscences of Rogue River War," Roseburg Plaindealer, September 5, 1904, page 1


    [Hiram] Smith's farm, or "place," is four or five miles south of the old "Hardy Elliff" station, at the southern end of the "Big Canyon," and is on Cow Creek, which, rising in the Cascade Range of mountains, passes by Hardy Elliff's and, running first westerly, thence northerly, and thence again easterly, makes a complete circuit of a spur of the Cascade Range through which the "Big Canyon" is a passageway, and empties into the South Umpqua River, seven or eight miles northward of Canyonville, at the northerly end of the "Big Canyon." Formerly, when all the travel was by wagon road, it passed up the westerly side of the South Umpqua River, from Roseburg to the crossing of the South Umpqua, four or five miles from Canyonville, and there followed up Canyon Creek to Canyonville, where it entered the "Big Canyon," and followed up Canyon Creek, which flows through the canyon, a distance of twelve miles, to Hardy Elliff's.
    Canyon Creek rises in the canyon at a point about two miles northward of Hardy Elliff's. The grade of the canyon is not difficult for a wagon road, but the narrowness of the defile in some places, the swampy and boggy character of the creek in others, the precipitous mountains adjacent, and the dense forest excluding the sun's influence for a very large portion of the year, made the "Big Canyon" difficult of passage for a large portion of the time. A toll road was established through it by a private corporation some years after the time of which I write [the fall of 1855], but did not improve the opportunities of travel materially, though it at one time entered somewhat into the state's politics. The O.&C. Railroad, that has since been constructed as far south as Ashland, on Rogue River, does not pass through the "Big Canyon," but, crossing South Umpqua north of the mouth of Cow Creek, follows up that stream many miles westward of the "Big Canyon." The following are the names of the settlers on Cow Creek, south of the canyon, in 1855: Hardy Elliff, Stephen [Mynatt], ------ Smith, ------ Turner, [John W.] Redfield, who lived at the crossing of Cow Creek and about a mile from Smith's place. All these had families.
Francis M. Tibbetts, "An Indian Outbreak," Sunday Oregonian, Portland, May 30, 1886, page 2


    October 31[, 1855].--This morning the road lay through a nearly level and very fertile valley to Roseburg, where I saw Major Martin, the elected commanding officer of the volunteers. He informed me that the troops were now fighting with the Indians near the Umpqua cañon and that he intended to join them on the following morning, with two more companies at present in camp at Canyonville. He kindly proposed to escort my party through the cañon, and I accepted his offer.
    We continued our course up the valley of the South Umpqua River and encamped with the volunteers near the northern entrance of the Umpqua Cañon, at Canyonville, which consists only of one house and a barn. The road followed the stream for the greater part of the way, and the valley, although narrow, was settled and much of it apparently very fertile. The hills on each side were lightly timbered with oak and fir. Several specimens of a hard variety of talcose slate were found during the day. The distance traveled was about twenty-six miles. In the evening a dispatch was received from the battlefield, stating that the troops were greatly in want of food and powder and urging on the reinforcements. In the night it rained.
    November 1.--This morning we followed the volunteers through the cañon, a difficult pass through the Umpqua Mountains. Two small creeks head near the divide and flow, one towards the north to the south fork of the South Umpqua and the other towards the south to Cow Creek. The bottom of the gorge is exceedingly narrow, and the precipitous sides, covered with a thick growth of trees, rise at least 1,000 feet above the water. We found in the cañon a species of yew tree which we did not notice elsewhere west of the Cascade Mountains. The ascent from the camp to the divide was 1,450 feet, and we were compelled, after crossing the creek about thirty times, to travel part of the way in its bed. A few resolute men might hold this defile against an army, and it is wonderful that the Rogue River Indians, who are intelligent, brave and well armed with rifles, have never, in their numerous wars, seized upon it and thus prevented the approach of troops from the Umpqua Valley. This pass is about eleven miles in length, and communication through it is sometimes interrupted by freshets. The road over which we traveled was constructed in 1853, by Brevet Major B. Alvord, United States army, and it is the best route known through the Umpqua Mountains.
Lieutenant Henry L. Abbott, Reports of Explorations and Surveys, to Ascertain the Most Practicable and Economical Route for a Railroad from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean, Washington 1857, page 107

    November 1. [1855]--This morning we followed the volunteers through the cañon, a difficult pass through the Umpqua mountains. Two small creeks head near the divide, and flow, one towards the north to the south fork of the South Umpqua, and the other towards the south to Cow creek. The bottom of the gorge is exceedingly narrow, and the precipitous sides, covered with a thick growth of trees, rise at least 1,000 feet above the water. we found in the cañon a species of yew-tree which we did not notice elsewhere west of the Cascade mountains. The ascent from the camp to the divide was 1,450 feet, and we were compelled, after crossing the creek about thirty times, to travel part of the way in its bed. A few resolute men might hold this defile against an army; and it is wonderful that the Rogue river Indians, who are intelligent, brave, and well armed with rifles, have never, in their numerous wars, seized upon it, and thus prevented the approach of troops from the Umpqua valley. This pass is about eleven miles in length, and communication through it is sometimes interrupted by freshets. The road over which we traveled was constructed in 1853 by Brevet Major Alvord, United States army, and it is the best route known through the Umpqua mountains.
Lt. Henry L. Abbot, Reports of Explorations and Surveys, to Ascertain the Most Practicable and Economical Route for a Railroad from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean, 1857, page 107


Capt. Buoy
    Will move with his entire command as soon as practicable for Camp Elliff near the south end of the Canyon and there remain until further orders. You will leave a sufficient force at this place until relieved by Capt. Keeney.
    You will use your best exertions in keeping open the road from the crossing of Cow Creek to the northern end of the Canyon.
    You will furnish the families that are unprotected en route from Cow Creek to the northern end of the Canyon with a sufficient number of men to render them safe. In chastising the enemy all is left to your discretion provided you take no prisoners.
    You will erect such winter quarters as you may deem necessary. You will allow two dollars per day each as extra compensation to soldiers in your company that you may employ in erecting the same.
    Upon Thursday next [the] 15th day of Nov. you will hold an election in your company for Major of the Northern Battalion of the Southern Division of the Oregon Mounted Volunteers. You will send the result of said election under seal by a special messenger addressed to the adjutant [remainder not filmed]
Oregon State Archives, Yakima and Rogue River War, Document File B, Reel 2, Document 679.


    We are now in the Canyon, and in a little [while] the worst mud I ever did see. When we will get through God only knows, but I have hopes of getting through in two or three days. I started through in advance this morning to get supplies & expect to get the Indians through by night. The wagons will probably be detained for several days. Lieut. Underwood sent a detachment of twenty men in the Canyon to remove the obstructions which were thrown in the road during the winter by high water. There was also a slide from the mountain of a ledge of rocks, completely blocking up the Canyon, which will require some time to remove.
Indian Agent George H. Ambrose, March 3, 1856; Microcopy of Records of the Oregon Superintendency of Indian Affairs 1848-1873, Reel 14; Letters Received, 1856, No. 99.   Ambrose was escorting the Rogue River Indians from their ancestral lands to the coastal reservations.


    [February 4, 1856]. In passing through I found some heavy obstructions. The high water during the forepart of the winter had thrown in large drift logs & a slide from the mountains had filled up the channel of the creek, all of which required to be removed before wagons could pass. . . .
George H. Ambrose, Microcopy of Records of the Oregon Superintendency of Indian Affairs 1848-1873, Reel 14; Letters Received, 1856, No. 165.


    [Spring, 1856.] The canon was a narrow place where a little stream ran through the Umpqua mountains down into the valley. A man in passing through the canon had to follow the bed of the creek all the way, for it was solid rock on each side, and was from fifty to five hundred feet high, and about eight miles in length. The night before I got there it had rained heavily in the mountains so the creek was booming through the canon like a mill race. In places the water would come halfway up on my horse's sides and it would be all he could do to keep on his feet. At the mouth of the canon where it enters into the Umpqua valley, it turns to the right and pitches down over the rocks like a whirlpool. Just above where it turns down the hill is the old crossing, and about ten feet above they had started to build a bridge and had three bents put up about ten feet apart, with an approach on each side about six feet long. They had two planks two by eight inches lying side by side across the framework. When I got there I saw that it would be almost impossible to ford the stream, so I did not know just what to do as I was afraid to stay there long. I got off and tried to lead my horse across the bridge on the planks but he would not budge a foot. I tried quite awhile to get him onto the plank, but it was no go. Then I thought I would try riding him over and as soon as I got on him and started him he walked straight across the bridge. I think I was scared ten times as bad as the horse, for I don't think I drew a single breath while crossing. In the center of the bridge it was fifteen feet down to the water.
Life and Adventures of E. S. Carter, 1896, pages 76-77


    [March] 4th [1856] Tuesday, the weather still continues fine for the season, during the night our cattle deserted us passing thru the canyon & crossing South Umpqua, a distance of twelve miles. Some few of them took the other end of the road, finding it impossible to collect the cattle in time to move. I took the Indians in advance & went through the canyon before night in order to obtain supplies [in Canyonville] of which we were getting quite short. In passing through I found some heavy obstructions the high waters during the fore part of the winter had thrown in large drift logs & a slide from the mountain had filled up the channel of the creek, all of which required to be removed before wagons could pass which was accordingly done by Lieut. [Charles N.] Underwood who sent a detachment in advance for that purpose, the persons who were sent in search of the missing cattle returned with all but four head.
    [March] 5th Wednesday, the Indians remained in camp today at the mouth of Canyon creek awaiting the arrival of the wagons about three or four oclock in the evening they made their appearance. The cattle very much jaded & tired as no forage could be had. I secured the best pasture I could find & turned them in that. An Indian girl died this evening. We were now a distance of eleven miles from our camp of the evening of the third, being occupied two days in making it.
Diary of George H. Ambrose, in "The Takelmans' Trail of Tears, 1856," Oregon Indians: Voices from Two Centuries, Stephen Dow Beckham, ed., 2006, pages 228-229   Ambrose was conveying the defeated Takelma Indians from the Rogue Valley to the Grand Ronde reservation at the close of the Rogue River Indian War.

    The road from [Canyonville] leads through the big canyon. It crosses the creek some thirty-six times, and at one place follows up in the bed of the creek for one and one-fourth miles. . . .
William H. Byars, "Pioneer Day Pony Express Rider Led an Eventful Life," undated Roseburg News-Review article, DAR scrapbooks vol. 18, RVGS.   Byars is describing the route through the Canyon as he rode it on his mail route 1856-1858.


    About ninety miles south of Winchester [it's about 30 miles], on the road leading to California, is the Great Cañon spoken of. It is a narrow pass between two large mountains. The road passes up this creek a distance of twelve miles; there has been a vast amount of money expended in making this road, and it is now barely passable for teams; the attempt to make the trip from California to Oregon with wagons was never undertaken until 1854--the travel, and all the produce taken from Oregon to California, overland, previously, had been by means of pack animals.
A. N. Armstrong, Oregon, 1857, page 49


    In the Umpqua valley there are a few hills where the work would be difficult, but it is thought that these may be avoided and a good location obtained to the Umpqua cañon. This pass, a serious obstacle to the construction of a railroad, leads through the Umpqua mountains to Rogue river valley. Its summit is 2,000 feet above the sea. An ascending grade would be required of 207 feet per mile for 7 miles, with some heavy rock cutting, and a descending grade of 192 feet per mile for 2 miles. By side location the latter might be greatly reduced. It is possible that an examination of Cow creek cañon might have developed a more favorable route.
Reports of Explorations and Surveys, to Ascertain the Most Practicable and Economical Route for a Railroad from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean, 1857, Extract 4, Capt. A. A. Humphreys, "Report upon the Progress of the Pacific Railroad Explorations and Surveys," page 30


    In 1853 [it was 1857-58] the government of the United States undertook the construction of a military road through the southern part of the territory Lieutenant Joe Hooker--afterwards General Joe Hooker who fought the "Battle in the Clouds" at Lookout Mountain, Tennessee--was assigned to the work at Canyonville. I remember him quite well. He spent most of his time that fall in playing "seven-up" for the drinks at the hotel bar, while the boys were busy up in the Canyon.
William M. Colvig, "Annual Address," Transactions of the Forty-Fourth Annual Reunion of the Oregon Pioneer Association, 1916, pages 342-343
 

    General, then Lieutenant, Joe Hooker located the present road through the big canyon in Douglas County [in 1858]. The old road followed the bed of the creek for over a mile through a deep gorge.


    . . . when I hear a man say that a good road can be made through the Canyon and over the Grave Creek hills at a comparatively small expense, it seems to me that he is either ignorant of the route or selfishly blinded and prejudiced against our Crescent City road. . . . I really believe that it will take from thirty to forty thousand dollars to make a good wagon road through the Canyon, and at least ten thousand dollars more to continue it over the Grave Creek hills. Now, if this is comparatively small expense, why has it not been done? When the money to make the road through the Canyon has to be raised by stockholders, there will be a failure.
"Waxsaw," Waldo correspondent, Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, February 6, 1858, page 2


    I arrived at [Roseburg] on Monday last; found the roads pretty good--streams considerably swollen, but not difficult to cross. The Canyon is not passable for wagons, as the driftwood is washed into the road in several places, and almost all the gravel and small rock washed away, leaving the large boulders and uneven bedrock to impede travel. Both the bridges at the north end of the Canyon are gone.
"Editorial Correspondence," William G. T'Vault, Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, March 13, 1858, page 2


    SCOTTSBURG ROAD.--A gentleman who arrived a few days since from Oregon informs us that the late severe rains, which caused a flood in almost all the streams, were very destructive to the wagon road between Scottsburg and Jacksonville. The portion of it through the Canyon is entirely washed away and destroyed, so that it is impassable, and it will require an outlay of several thousand dollars to repair it so that it will again be practicable for wagons, if indeed it can be made so at all.
Crescent City Herald, March 24, 1858, page 2


    The roads from southern Oregon to the north are in bad traveling condition, and before wagons can pass the Canyon it will require much work.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, March 27, 1858, page 2


    CRESCENT CITY.--The Herald of March 24th has the following local intelligence:
    A gentleman who arrived a few days since from Oregon informs us that the late severe rains which caused a flood in almost all the streams were very destructive to the wagon road between Scottsburg and Jacksonville. The portion of it through the cañon is entirely washed away and destroyed, so that it is impassable, and it will require an outlay of several thousand dollars to repair it so that it will again be practicable for wagons, if indeed it can be made so at all.
Sacramento Daily Union, April 5, 1858, page 3


    During the winter of 1857-58 plans were made to concentrate the next season's road building endeavors in the Pacific Northwest on the roads in southern Oregon which it had been impossible to improve during the previous season due to the intervening distance. Two labor parties, organized in San Francisco, were dispatched to the mouth of the Umpqua aboard steamer the first week in April. Both roads were under the immediate supervision of Colonel Joseph Hooker who had resolved to accomplish improvements by hired labor, with special contracts let to civilians for bridge building. On the Camp Stuart road, from twenty to forty workers concentrated their labor at Umpqua Canyon, eleven miles long. The road through this canyon, the artery of travel between the Pacific Northwest and California, was impracticable for wagons and unfavorable for horsemen. Much of the route was relocated; the vertical walls were blasted away to make a road bed at places where the banks of the stream had previously served. After the removal of sizable mud deposits that had accumulated during the rainy season, permanent improvement of the drainage in the lower part of the canyon was provided by culverts. Contractors were in the meantime building bridges and improving the most southern section of the road out of Jacksonville northwestward toward Cow Creek. This route was now described as an excellent road, sixteen feet wide with timber cleared from thirty to sixty feet; it was practicable for a six-mule team.
W. Turrentine Jackson, "Federal Road Building Grants for Early Oregon," Oregon Historical Quarterly, March 1949, pages 19-21


    THE MILITARY ROAD.--The work on the military road from Scottsburg to Camp Stuart is progressing rapidly, under the efficient superintendence of Col. Hooker. Through the Big Canon the road is already nearly completed one half the distance--the other half, however, being the south end, is by far the most difficult part of the work. Col. Hooker informs us that he intends to double the force at present employed upon the work, and he has no doubt of being able to complete the road this season.
    Through the Grave Creek Hills the work is being performed by Mr. Hardy Elliff, who has contracted to build that portion of the road for the sum of $8,000. His work, as far as finished, is unexceptionable. We may congratulate ourselves upon the prospect of a good thoroughfare from this to the northern portion of our state.--Jacksonville Herald.
Oregon Statesman, Salem, July 27, 1858, page 2


    JACKSONVILLE, O.T.--The Sentinel, of August 7th, has several items of interest, including one congratulating its readers upon soon being able, by the Western telegraph, to furnish news to Northern Oregon:
    Cañon Creek is reported as doing well. News from Galice and Sucker creeks speak well of those places. The bars on Illinois River are being worked to better advantage this summer than usual; we have not heard a single miner working on it complain of poor pay. Josephine Creek is said, by the oldest miners on it, to pay as well this as any other year, though it has been worked seven years.
    The cañon, which has always been the "Alps" between Northern and Southern Oregon, is now being improved, and great hopes are entertained of the "sunny South" having an opportunity of sending some of her superfine flour and other supplies so much needed to our northern neighbors and fellow citizens.
    The Grave Creek Hills, heretofore so annoying to travelers, have nearly disappeared under the superintendence of Thomas Elliff.
Sacramento Daily Union, August 14, 1858, page 1


    From Lieut. Mendell we learn that the construction of the military road through the Canyon and Grave Creek Hills is going on briskly, and that the commencement of the rainy season will find a good road there. The laborers upon the Scottsburg road have all gone to Fraser, and operations are suspended.
Oregon Statesman, Salem, August 17, 1858, page 2


    The superintendent of the work on the road through the cañon wants fifty laborers to work on the road, and will pay the highest cash price for labor.
"Jacksonville," Sacramento Daily Union, August 20, 1858, page 5


    THE MILITARY ROAD SOUTH.--The military road from Scottsburg to Camp Stuart, in Jackson County, is a work of considerable importance to the Territory, and particularly to the southern portion of it. At a recent session of Congress an appropriation of $60,000 was made for the purpose of completing it, and during the past summer the work has been progressing under the immediate superintendence of Col. James [sic] Hooker. We learn that it will be finished about the first of December, when it will compare favorably with any road of similar length in this Territory or California. Much praise is due to the superintendent of the work, Col. Hooker, for the energy and faithfulness which he has devoted to it, and for the excellent manner in which the work has been performed. The Big Canyon, always a bad road, and in winter impassable except on horseback, can now be traveled at any season of the year with ease and safety, and that portion of the road lying through the Grave Creek Hills has been vastly improved. A fine bridge is also being constructed at Roseburg, in lieu of the one which was washed away last winter. The present one is so elevated as to be beyond the reach of the highest water. A buggy can be easily driven over the whole extent of the road, and it is anticipated that a line of coaches will be placed upon it the coming summer.
Oregon Statesman, Salem, October 12, 1858, page 2


    MILITARY ROAD.--The military road from Jacksonville (O.T.) to Scottsburg is now in excellent order, as we learn from the Jacksonville Sentinel. The Grave Creek hills have been leveled, the cañon improved, and the whole road repaired so that heavy freighted wagons can pass with less difficulty than has heretofore been experienced.
Sacramento Daily Union, October 22, 1858, page 1


    Cañon (can´ yon), originally a tube, and hence applied to mean a deep gorge with high steep walls. Comparatively few cañons and cañadas are to be found in that portion of the United States east of the Mississippi, but they are abundant in California. The Spaniards place the accent on the last syllable of cañon (can yone´), but in ordinary American usage the accent is on the first syllable. It is frequently spelt "canyon" and "kanyon."
John S. Hittell, "Variations of the English Language: Californianisms," Daily Alta California, San Francisco, June 17, 1859, page 4


    Col. Hooker, who has been in charge of the improvements on the military road from this place to Scottsburg, passed through our town the other day. He expressed himself as being agreeably disappointed with the appearance of the country in the sunny south of Oregon. We, however, are of opinion that the politics of the south does not exactly suit the Col., and we venture to predict that he will be much disappointed in the result of the California election; for it is our opinion that Latham and the whole Democratic state ticket will be elected by a large majority; however the Col. thinks differently. He will not return to Oregon until about the first of January next.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 30, 1859, page 2


    Passing over about sixty miles of this kind of region, we reach the famous cañon about which so much has been told, and which has for years been the great hindrance to travel between the Umpqua and Rogue River valleys. It is about twelve miles in length, consisting of a narrow gorge between high mountains and through which a small stream of water flows in each direction from the highest point, situated two or three miles north of the southern end of it. The rise and descent is very gradual, and the whole distance is a perfect copse or jungle of trees and brushwood, through which the pioneer explorers were several days in forcing their way. A portion of the wagon road is rough, and some two or three miles of it is at present very muddy, but it is neither bilge water, a sewer or quagmire that people cannot go through, or teams either, if they only think so. The road can be made a good one with little expense, and I presume Umpqua County will attend to that next summer.
"Overland to Oregon," Daily Alta California, San Francisco, December 25, 1860, page 1


    HORSE KILLED.--During the late storm the California Stage Company were obliged to leave their wagon at Canyonville and send the mail and passengers through the Canyon on horses. On one of these trips a horse loaded with mail matter fell from a precipice and was instantly killed.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, December 7, 1861, page 3


    . . . here in an early day in 1861 your correspondent experienced one of his first genuine Oregon showers, for when passing from California to Eugene City, it was called then, I passed through this valley in one of the hardest rainstorms I have ever experienced in my life and after passing through the valley I began to go over what was then called the Canyon road and after going a short distance, two or three miles, began to descend the hill. The route has been materially changed since then, for instead of going down a long and very steep sticky hill the new road runs along the side of the mountains, but then the road went right down the hill, and as I was riding along with no company but my saddle horse, "Old Charley," I was singing as loud as I could, for it was raining like guns and I supposed I was alone. I looked down the hill a short distance and there were three wagons with a lot of men, women and children tugging away trying to pull the wagons up that steep muddy rock hill in that storm, and I just wondered how in the world they ever got through. I didn't know as much then about how to overcome such difficulties as I did after I had teamed in the mountains of Jackson County, but I stopped and expressed my sympathy for them in their apparent distress, but one of the men remarked that little hill didn't amount to anything, that they would make it all right, so I passed on headed for the Uncle Jemmie Clark's just outside of Canyonville, so pressing on crossing Canyon Creek until the thought occurred to me to count the number of times I had to cross the creek and when I got through I found that I had crossed it just 28 times, in fact a great part of the time I was in the bed of the creek for several rods, but finally reached my destination where I met Uncle Jemmie and Aunt Rachel, for they were known far and near by those names, where I spent the night, and was made to feel at home for they were true Southerners and I at that time was a circuit rider on my way to Eugene to take charge of a large circuit for the M.E. Church, South.
A. C. Howlett, "Eagle Point Eaglets," Medford Mail Tribune, July 20, 1923, page 7

    "I remember," says Judge [William M.] Colvig, "when the Western Union built its telegraph line through the state in 1862. At first no poles were used wherever a forest tree was available for wires, and trees were very plentiful. I recall that there were not a dozen poles used in the Canyon mountains; there for a distance of twelve miles the wires were strung from tree to tree. Before that news generally was ancient history before it reached us, and it certainly relieved the monotony of pioneer life when news started coming with the swiftness of the lightning's flash."
Copco Volt, September 1923


    Not long since I observed a short biography of Gen. Hooker in the columns of the Bulletin. The writer was no doubt influenced by a desire to correct the numerous errors afloat touching the eventful part of that beau ideal of a gallant soldier, gay Lothario, and consummate courtier. For the same reason allow me "to vindicate the truth of history," by adding what your brief chronicler has omitted, the General's Oregon episode. Instead of residing in California from the time of his resignation of his position in the regular army until his appointment as Brigadier-General, Hooker left California in the spring of 1858, and came to Oregon in the employ of Captain Mendell of the Topogs, to superintend the digging, bridging and filling up of what, by way of whipping his satanic majesty round the stump, we Democratic, strict-construction, anti-internal improvement people used to call by way of political fiction, a military road. This warlike causeway commenced at the peaceful tidewater village of Scottsburg, on the Umpqua River, and was supposed to terminate about 150 miles south, at that military myth known in the Appropriation Acts as Camp Stuart, on Rogue River. After completing this road, or exhausting the appropriation therefor, Hooker was employed upon a similar one from Astoria to Salem; but in the meantime, having taken a chance in the political raffle of that year (1859) on the losing side, the powers that then were had him discharged. This, of course, added fuel to the flame and Hooker went in heart and soul to the political movement of the Oregon Statesman to elect Nesmith and Baker to the U.S. Senate. This feat being accomplished, he went to Washington in the fall of 1860 or the spring of 1861, and in consideration of his distinguished services here and elsewhere, Nesmith procured his appointment as Brigadier-General from Oregon; so you see I am not disposed to acquiesce in your claim to the hero of Williamsburg. And considering the galaxy of distinguished captains you have sent to the field of battle, I think you Californians ought allow us the exclusive heritage of Hooker’s name and fame.
Evening Bulletin, San Francisco, July 26, 1862, page 3


    ROAD THROUGH THE CANYON.--The county commissioners of Douglas County have advertised for proposals to lease, for a certain length of time, the road through the Canyon, permitting the lessee to collect tolls in consideration of keeping the road in repair. The idea is a good one. We would advise our city fathers to lease the streets in the city of Jacksonville on similar terms. Who seconds the motion?
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, February 21, 1863, page 2


ORDER FOR ROAD LEASE.--It is (this 4th day of February, 1863) ordered by the Board of Commissioners of Douglas County, Oregon, that the following described portion of the County Road, running through the Canyon, in Douglas county, Oregon, to wit: commencing at a point on said road opposite the sawmill near Canyonville, and running south to a point on said road opposite Hardy Eliff's house, at the south end of said Canyon--be leased according to the provisions of an Act, entitled "An Act providing for the working of public roads and highways," passed by the Legislative Assembly of the State of Oregon, and approved October the 15th, 1862; and that the County Clerk cause this order to be published in the Oregon Sentinel (a newspaper published at Jacksonville, Oregon) for four successive weeks; and that sealed bids for leasing said road will be received at the Clerk's Office, in Roseburg, Douglas County, Oregon, until 4 o'clock P.M., of the 14th day of March, A.D. 1863. The number of gates may be two (2), but persons traveling the whole length of the said leased section of the road shall not [sic] be required to pay but one toll; said road shall be a good and substantial road of clay or gravel, or both, with good and sufficient drainage; and wherever necessary, good and substantial bridges, at least twelve feet in width, and covered with plank not less than three inches thick, with substantial banisters not less than three and one-half (3½) feet high, with a center track ten (10 feet in width;--said road to be cleared of timber and stumps for fifteen (15) feet in width, and of standing timber for twenty (20) feet, and a grade of not more than one foot in ten; also, turnouts fifteen feet wide and forty feet in length, and not to exceed three hundred (300) feet between each other. These turnouts must be in sight of one another, if by so doing the distance may be less than three hundred feet between turnouts. The section of road herein specified to be kept in good repair at all times.
    When the said road shall have been completed for two miles north from the summit of the Canyon, the lessee will be allowed to collect half-tolls, and that said road be completed within eighteen months from the date of such lease.
    I hereby certify that the above is a true copy of an order passed by the Board of Commissioners of Douglas County, Oregon, at their February term, 1863.
    In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and official seal, at Roseburg, this 10th day of February, A.D. 1863.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, February 25, 1863, page 4


    A MELANCHOLY OCCURRENCE.--Governor Briggs has favored us with an account of the following fatal accident: On Saturday last, a wagon containing a man and his wife and infant child, while ascending the big hill in the Canyon, was turned over, throwing the occupants violently down the hill, instantly killing the child in its mother's arms. The mother and father were slightly injured. Our informant had forgotten the name of the family. They were from California, bound for the northern mines.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, April 8, 1863, page 2

Pacific Highway through the Canyon circa 1925, Pioneer Bridge in the distance.
Note the view of the brush-filled streambed the pioneers had to penetrate.

Pacific Highway in the Canyon just north of Pioneer Bridge, 1934.


Pioneer Bridge in the Umpqua Canyon, 1939.