Greenleaf Austin Goodale
Reminiscences of Captain G. A. Goodale, commander at Fort Klamath 1869-72. Hunting deserters, getting lost on the trails, fighting the liquor trade on the reservation.
Fort Klamath I found a most beautiful post. Nestling as it did amid the great pine trees, shaking aspens before every house, with their delicate silver leaves constantly shivering and shaking--or boughs swaying before the breeze. Immediately in rear of [the] post was a line of hills, presenting on the side towards Fort Klamath an almost perpendicular face, while off in front spread a lovely lawn extending seven miles--or to the base of the Cascade Range of mountains--and through this, running from north to south, were two streams of ice-cold water, full of trout, the first, Wood River, ¾ mile in front of post. And the second, a smaller stream at the base of mountain range. Then running through the post, only fifty feet in rear of officers' quarters was a large brook of a similar character with the others, also alive with speckled beauties, which I have often taken with the fly, twenty yards from my door & in fifteen minutes had them for breakfast.
All of these brooks and streams head in large springs at the foot of the hills & mountains three or four miles north of [the] post, and empty into Lake Klamath, seven miles south. They never freeze in the coldest winter weather. During three winters I did not see the slightest skin of ice on any portion of any of them.
It was a pleasant ride of five miles to the Indian agency, where Mr. Lindsay Applegate was agent, and his sons and relatives employees.
Klamath was a most desirable station, with but one thing lacking to make it the most desirable of any I have ever seen. The summers were so short, & nights so cool, no fruit but strawberries, which grew wild, and no vegetables but the very hardiest could be raised. Turnips, peas, and one or two more articles, not easily injured by frost, we cultivated to some extent. But after all, fruit and vegetables were so good, abundant and cheap in Rogue River Valley, one hundred miles away, that it did not matter so very much. But I love to see those things growing. The best apples and potatoes were bought at 1 cent a pound, & I had [the] post teams haul in enough, before the roads closed, to supply the command all winter. About the 20th June Captain McGregor and command got away, & I was left in command of the post. Made no changes, except to put fireplaces and chimneys into [the] quarters of Lieut. Thoburn & myself, also painted several rooms. No paint had ever been applied, and the buildings inside and outside were the color of the wood. Stoves and pipe had been used. I also got authority to whitewash all the buildings, so I soon made it a different-looking place.
As we drew near the 4th July 1869 I thought I would spent my 30th birthday at Jacksonville, 100 miles distant--two days ride by the trail. So the morning of the 2nd I started bright and early, and crossed the Cascade Range for the first time, spending the night after a fifty-mile ride at Clarke's, a harbor for travelers [probably Owen and Fanny Clarke's on Rancheria Prairie], and next day rode into Jacksonville. There I soon got acquainted with the Sachs, Glenn, Drum & Martins & others, merchants. And next day the 4th proved an important one in my history. For on that day I first met your mother, my own dear Fide--then Miss Fidelia S. Beach, a teacher in J. & whose mother, Mrs. White, lived at Rock Point, 13 miles from J.
Mr. Samuel Sachs introduced me, on the picnic grounds, near her school house--also to several other young ladies, among them Miss Linn, with whom several of us went home and ate fruit from her brother Mr. David Linn's beautiful garden. The afternoon of the 5th July I started on my return to Fort Klamath, and as I wished to see as much of the country as possible and as many of the different routes of travel across the mountain & through the valley, I determined to go by way of Colwell's & Link River. So that afternoon I rode up Rogue River Valley, through the villages of Phoenix & Ashland, twenty-six miles, to Soda Spring--where a very comfortable public house was kept by one Colwell--or "The Doctor," as Madam called him. Here I found everything very comfortable for man and beast, and I many times afterwards during three years had occasion to discuss the good suppers, after a fifty-mile ride across the mountains. Near the house was a bubbling spring strong[ly] impregnated with iron.
Next morning soon after an early breakfast I was on my lonely ride over the mountain--Colwell's place was at the base on [the] western side, so the first part of [the] ride was a long & tedious hill, or quick succession of hills, and about 6 miles to the summit. Then the road leads for a few miles down into a depression in the range, watered by Jenny Creek, then we climb a few miles & finally descend into the valley of the Klamath River--which flows from the lake of [the] same name near Fort K. & already mentioned. It was a very interesting ride & from being alone I had the better opportunity of enjoying the scenery & noting the way. This timber--all the mountain was heavy timbered--in places was on fire & I had to look out for falling trees; could hear them, in different directions, crashing to the ground. At one spot my horse stopped suddenly, & looking around for the cause, saw within twenty feet of me a yearling deer that had been lying away from the flies & mosquitoes in the ashes from a burning log. He got up, looked at us a minute, leaped the log & loped off into the woods. I am glad I was so much surprised that I did not think of my pistol in my belt, or I might have shot it, even though I could not take it with me. Unless you need the same for food for yourselves or others, never, my dear children, shoot or fish.
Arrived at Fort Klamath the 3rd day from Jacksonville--the distance being greater than by [the] way I went to [the] valley--and settled down to my duties. Lieut. [Stephen B.] Thoburn was commissary & quartermaster. He went to the valley several times during the year on business & pleasure.
In August (1869) a party consisting of J. D. Fay, Mr. Sutton Sr. & Jr. & 4 ladies & 4 children came out to Crater Lake on the mountain 22 miles from [the] post on an excursion. We learn[ed] they were there, and I suggested to Lt. Thorburn to go up & invite them to the post, wh. we did, and they all came in. We gave up our quarters, and they remained four days. At the time which this party was with us, Col. Otis of the 1st Cavalry one day rode into post--came to inspect it--he being C.O., District of Lakes, camps Harney, Warner & Klamath. But as a few days before Klamath had been made an independent post, he went away without inspecting. At this same time too we had with us for a week Judge Alexander, an old gentleman who had been a great traveler & was up in Oregon to pass the time & fish, he being a disciple of Walton. He had been at Rock Point for two or three weeks, the Rogue River having been recommended to him as a fine place to fish--and had ridden out on one of Mr. Deskins' teams, Mr. D. being a freight contractor & hauling supplies to [the] post. The Judge came out to try the angling near the post while the teams should unload, & while camping for two nights near [the] post we heard of him as a nice-looking old gentleman fishing down in Wood River & that he had come out with Deskins' teams. Lieut. Thoburn at my request mounted his horse & looked him up and invited him to [the] post. He came & we found him very agreeable and invited him to remain as long as he could amuse himself. He agreed to remain a week & then said he must go to Jacksonville for letters he expected. Under certain conditions he would return & spend a few weeks, provided he be allowed to pay his part of mess bills. In this we assented. So at the end of [the] week I got a buggy at the agency, put a couple of the mules at the post in & drove the old gentleman out to Rock Point. Here he had his baggage in a little house owned by Mr. J. B. White. Here we slept two or three nights & boarded at the hotel. We spent Sunday. The girls were all at home from their schools in Jacksonville, & I enjoyed being once more among other than army people. Monday the Judge & I were to go to Jacksonville, he to make a few purchases, having decided to return to Fort Klamath with me. He rode in the carriage, while miss Fide Beach went with me in the less elegant buggy, drawn by two team mules, so obstinate and muleheaded they at one place insisted on running us over the side of a bridge. Nothing but much pulling and a very vigorous application of the lash persuaded them to keep the outfit on the bridge.
Remained in Jacksonville all night, and next p.m. started on our return, going by way of Rogue River Valley. After crossing the river, and when twenty-five miles from town, the Judge, who had been drinking freely, & was considerably excited, took offense at something I said & became very angry and wanted to stop the team & fight it out by [the] side of the road. "I have a pistol & you have a shotgun, both loaded," he said, "& we will settle it right here." I laughed at him & pooh poohed at the idea, kept my temper & drove along. Finally he cooled down somewhat and a drive of five miles more brought us to Jackson's, where we spent the night. The Judge after he got sober had a talk with me, expressed his regret at what had happened, but decided on the whole it would be best for him to return to Jacksonville. I thought so too, so did not urge him to do differently. I offered to carry him back, but he said no, he would remain at Jackson's for a few days and fish, and there would be some wagon along on which he could ride to town.
It was a happy deliverance, I am inclined to think, for though he was very entertaining, I did not know when I invited him to [the] post for [the] summer that he was so very intemperate. So [the] next day I continued my journey alone, and drove through--60 miles in one day.
With the exception of the incident with Judge Alexander had a most delightful time. Got acquainted with some very pleasant people at Rock Point, Mr. & Mrs. White (J.B.) & family, Mr. & Mrs. L. J. White, who kept the most excellent hotel--small, but neat as wax, and a good table. I forgot at the proper place to mention a laughable occurrence but which might easily have been a very serious one. Miss Emma Beach, who was teaching about twelve miles fr. Jacksonville, was the only member of the large family at Rock Point I had not seen. Yes, I had seen her for a few minutes at the celebration on the 4th of July. The afternoon I was in J. I suggested to Miss Fide Beach that we ride down & call on her, to wh. she agreed. So Mr. Manning gave me one of his best horses, and we started out and got along finely until within two miles from where Miss Emma was boarding we came to a steep and very sidling hill. The buggy, unfortunately, was one of those distressingly stylish and top-heavy affairs. It got to slewing on the sidehill and in an instant was over, tumbling us both out and under it. Providentially it was a self-uncoupling carriage, & the horse ran off with the forward wheels. My companion did not scream or act foolishly--and save a rent in [the] knee of my trousers, where it scraped the ground--and one of the springs to [the] buggy top broken, no damage was done.
We found the horse at a gate half a mile on & I drove him another mile to the residence of Mr. Meyers [W. C. Myer?], through the fields--Miss Beach on my arm--there we proceeded up the road to the great astonishment of the natives. Emma B. did not look for us at all, much less in this plight. While the sisters talked, & Mrs. M. got supper for us, Mr. Meyers' son, with a lantern, went back with me and assisted me in coupling up, and so we returned to the house--spent the evening--and returned to Jacksonville.
The next time I left the post, I went to Crescent City in October to meet some recruits for my company, which latter was that fall very much reduced by [the] discharges of three-years men. The order from division headquarters was for one officer to proceed to Crescent City, Cal., at a certain time to meet a detacht. of recruits to be sent to that place by steamer.
I took a small pack train of mules with a sergt. & four men as packers, the former loaded with rations for the detachment on the march from the coast to Fort Klamath, a distance of 230 miles. Lieut. Thoburn, the quartermaster, was at that time receiving the year's supply of stores for the post so I decided to go myself. I was well mounted on my fine sorrel horse, "Silver Tail," and as we could comfortably make twice the distance in a day that the pack train could, I surged ahead on "Silver" and had two days in Jacksonville before it came up, renewed my acquaintance with some of my young friends--Miss Thompson, Miss Linn & the Misses Owen--besides the gentlemen. Found Miss Beach still teaching in J. and enjoyed meeting her again.
With the pack train I went up Applegate Creek and crossed the Coast Range of mountains by a very fine toll road which zigzagged up the mountainside like a letter S very much flattened. It was so crooked that at places I could stand in the road and throw a stone down the mountainside seven times over the road!
There were houses at suitable distances for stopping, all of the way from Jacksonville, but I preferred my blankets & a clean spot to spread them outside, but usually camped near a house so as to have forage for my animals.
On the western slope of the mountain range we passed down through a belt of those giant redwood trees, and it was a small one that was not five feet in diameter at the base. I measured one tree which was sixty feet around it, or twenty feet through. They towered up two hundred feet without a limb. The grain of the wood is as straight as that of the clearest cedar, and it [is] used to some extent for split shingles & "shakes." Only the smaller of the trees are used, and then a staging is erected around the tree twelve feet from the ground--so the axman can avoid the slight swell in the trunk near the ground and also the roots which put out four or five feet from the ground.
Arrived at Crescent City and found the steamer had not arrived. Put up at the Humboldt House and waited a week. It was a dull little place of but two or three hundred inhabitants. At one time, when the mines in Northern California & Southern Oregon had paid better, it had been a flourishing place. Many goods were received from San Francisco & forwarded to the interior. A physician of the place, who had been surgeon at the post four miles from town, until it was abandoned--a very fine old gentleman--called and took me to ride several times. And I made a visit to the coast survey camp that summer three miles up the coast. Capt. [Alexander W.] Chase--a relative of Judge Chase--had charge of the survey at that place. It was near here that the steamship "Brother Jonathan" had a few years before been lost. General George Wright of the army and commander of the Dept. of the Columbia was lost at that time.
Finally after a dull week of waiting the steamer arrived. I had retired for the night when Captain S. B. M. Young of the 8th Cavalry came to my room and reported 48 recruits for me on board the steamer. It was the same officer who had been a fellow passenger from N.Y. to San Francisco & we were glad to see each other. It was then so late the men remained on board until morning. Very early, however, they were lightered ashore & I was all ready to march with them out of town. There was not much money in the party, but I had to watch them closely that they did not fall out to buy men [sic]. Some wanted to buy tobacco for the march, but I had thought to bring a supply from the commissary, and it was with the pack train at Camp Lincoln, the abandoned post four miles from town, where I halted long enough to make coffee and then before halting for the night placed a distance of about twelve miles between us and the town. That evening I informed the men plainly what the consequences would be if at any time during the march they should pillage or in any manner annoy the inhabitants, and I must say, considering what a lot of scamps many of them turned out eventually to be, that they behaved most admirably and gave me very little trouble. I did not at any time hear a complaint of depredations from anyone, and the Applegate Creek Valley for thirty miles was one continuous orchard and garden. I gave the men all the vegetables they wanted, and several times bought a bushel of apples for them. Had no adventure of any kind. Marched an average of 14 miles a day and in due time, late one afternoon, camped at the lower end of the little valley, and six miles from Jacksonville--to which place I rode, after [the] men were fairly in camp. "Silver" as usual carried me in in good shape. He was put in [the] stable. I had some supper at Horne's hotel, after which I called on Miss Beach & we in turn called on Miss Annie Fay, who we found receiving a visit from her sister Mrs. Coughlin. Then we all went at my invitation to the exhibition by "Tom Thumb" & wife, and "Commodore Nutt" & Minnie Warren [on October 4, 1869]. After a pleasant evening, I rode back to camp just before midnight, and the next day marched through town and beyond about ten miles. Crossed the Cascade Range by the trail--about ten miles shorter than by wagon road--and after an absence of about five weeks returned safely to my station--Fort Klamath--where I found everything all right, Lieut. Thorburn being an excellent officer.
Soon had my recruits drilling. For amusement had hunting and fishing--our table was kept supplied the finest of trout, duck, grouse and prairie chickens. Mr. Coffee, my guide, had given me a young setter, Dinah, and I had no trouble in making a very fine bird dog of her. Had a double-barreled shotgun given me by Capt. [Amandus C.] Kistler, as I passed through Camp Warner.
As Thanksgiving Day approached there came a man to [the] post from Big Butte Creek, about 20 miles from Rogue River Valley. He was quite a hunter, & as one evening in the sutler's store he told of the great number of deer and elk near him in the mountains, I decided to accompany him in the morning and did so, notwithstanding a hard rain. Put on my oldest clothes, a rubber coat and started. Rode that day fifty miles by trail to Clarke's, and next day thirty miles to his little house on Butte Creek. This was Novr. 18th 1869--Thanksgiving Day. We stopped about four miles short of his house to get some dinner at a little shanty of a place. We found several men who were about to go out on a hunt. The woman of the house gave us some dinner. It was plain fare and served in a rather primitive manner. Our Thanksgiving dinner consisted of some very fat and very strong venison ribs, boiled, a flat of heavy bread, baked among the ashes on the hearth, and a tin cup of water. Nothing else, save a pinch of salt. Now there is nothing nicer than a fat venison rib roasted before the fire--but these we had were those of an old buck, and boiled. After this we went to Mr. _____'s place, where I found things as might be expected where there was never known the presence of woman, though I must confess things looked fully as well and neat as at the place where we had dinner. By [the] side of the road I had shot a few quails, which we at the proper time had cooking. Next morning I rode six miles to intercept the mail, wh. was carried to [the] post once a week by a soldier. Among other letters I found one from Messrs. Glenn, Drum & Co., Jacksonville, on business, requiring me to proceed there at once. So I rode back to [the] house of my host to get my gun & saddle bags & tell him the hunting expedition must be deferred until another time. Rode then into Jacksonville, and attended to my business.
Next day, Nov. 20th, notwithstanding my hunting garb I went to Rock Point; that evening from the hotel I sent my card--no--guess I did not have any cards with me that time. But I sent a note in to Mrs. White saying if she or the young ladies would excuse my hunting rig I would do myself the honor of calling. Mr. White came over & took me back with him. Spent a pleasant evening and decided to remain a day or two and fish in Rogue River, which ran by the door of the hotel. On the 23rd day of November (1869) Miss Fidelia Beach promised to be my wife, and the next 1st of June was set for the wedding day. Then I had great happiness, wh. has never been dimmed by a shadow from that day to this. Went back to Fort Klamath, a day or two later, feeling myself to be the richest & most fortunate man in the country.
There was not much that winter to vary the monotony of garrison life. I occasionally went up Wood River two or three miles and speared half a dozen or [a] dozen eight-pound trout--have taken them weighing 14 pds.--but the average weight was about six pds.
At different times during my three years at Ft. K. I had some adventurous rides after deserters, two or three of which I will, without much regard to date, relate. Once or twice Lieut. Thorburn went in pursuit. But his duties as quartermaster & commissary rendered his presence at [the] post desirable.
The recruits I had received in [the] fall of '69 proved a bad lot. There were pleasant exceptions, to be sure, but only enough to prove the "rule."
They were enlisted at places on the Pacific Coast soon after the completion of the Pacific R.R., and several of them I have good authority for saying were highwaymen & robbers, whose business had become so much impaired by the completion of said road that they, as a makeshift, enlisted. About one fourth of the 48 were really very bad men. And another two fourths had probably enlisted for the purpose of deserting when the time should be propitious. The detachment behaved very well on the march to [the] post, but were saving themselves, I suppose. They remained through the winter, but when spring came, about a dozen at different times deserted, a little more than half of whom I succeeded in apprehending. Two men deserted in February. I sent a man to the foot of the mountain, on [the] trail, & to where he found continuous snow, thinking by the aid of snowshoes they had gone out that way towards the valley. But the soldier brought back word that no tracks could be found (think he lied to me). I had my horse saddled at once, & without other preparation than buckling my pistol by my side started off for Link River, 30 miles south, thinking I might waylay them there, or leave information so they could be caught by citizens, an act most citizens will not perform notwithstanding thirty dollars reward is paid for apprehension of each deserter. Many of them have houses or haystacks to burn, and it's a risk few will take. Remained at the store at Link River all night and until next afternoon at two, thinking I might be ahead of the deserters, but by two o'clk. I came to the conclusion they had gone directly across the mountains on the snow, wh. was still deep, & very nearly following the summer trail. How correct it was we shall see by and by.
At two p.m. I started from Linkville, intending to ride to Brown's ferry on Klamath River, 18 miles, that p.m., and cross the mountains to Colwell's & possibly Ashland next day. The deserters had the advantage of a start, and a difference of thirty miles--the disadvantage of snow for twenty miles on the mountains--and I had the advantage of being mounted. Owing to the bad, muddy roads, I at dark had only proceeded about 13 miles from Linkville. The days were short, & I was not mounted this time on Silver, but a small, round, very easy-trotting horse. One that could trot all day about five or six miles an hour, and not much better. So as night settled down upon me I was just entering a piece of very thick timber. Four miles through it and half a mile beyond was Brown's ferry, where I had expected to pass the night. It grew darker & darker, my gait changed to a slow walk, and after proceeding half a mile I found we were off the road. I will observe that into the main road--distinct enough in daylight--led several wood roads made by hauling out fence rails. After it got dark I gave the horse rein, and the old fool had wandered off into one of these byways. I then dismounted and led my horse until nine o'clk., endeavoring to find the right road. Finally had to give it up, and concluded as I might be getting father & farther away from my course, to tie up for the night and await daylight. The timber was too dense to get my bearing by the North Star, and even if I had been able, don't think I should have tried it, as the clearing at Brown's ferry was small--a few hundred [feet?] across--and I could easily have missed it in taking a general course. And a wide range of mountains laid beyond. So then I was alone in that dense forest for the night, and I cannot say alone, tho. according to the common term I was.
When pursuing not more than two men I rarely took anyone with me, as the garrison was small, and taking a soldier doubled the expense to the government. I tied my horse to a good browsing tree, unsaddled, and prepared to rest. As I am not a smoker, I rarely carry matches, & of course had none then when needed so much. Spread the small saddle blanket on the ground, after I had by sense of feeling hunted out the stones, and thrown them aside. Then I put on Lieut. Thoburn's light military coat (had thought mine too heavy for the horse on such a hard journey)--and laid down, making Nero stretch at my bank. I forgot to say that my noble dog was always crazy to go with me everywhere, & had come this time, though such trips used him up. He was some company for me, & considerable in the way of warmth. Besides I knew that with him by me the coyotes could not gnaw my boots off me.
I had a little lunch in my saddle bags but did not dare eat it, for not knowing how badly I was lost, thought I would save it for the morrow. There was no snow on the ground, but the ground was damp from that recently melted, and at that season of the year & altitude it was pretty cold. I could not sleep more than half an hour at a time. Then I would rouse up & get warm by tramping round the tree. Also killed some of the time & got warm by feeling round in the dark for evergreen trees & breaking off boughs & throwing them in a pile to lie on. This process was repeated several times during the night, I peering up through the trees occasionally to see if the stars were not growing dim by the dawn of returning day. It was a long night, but like all other nights did finally merge into day, by the first streak of which I was up. Saddled & prepared to resume my search of the road under more favorable conditions than a few hours before. Mounted & started off in the direction of the rumble of the waters of Klamath River, and had gone not more than 100 yards when I came into the right road, and led through three miles more of timber to Brown's, where I arrived at 6 a.m. I felt like singing as Fide & I did when lost that night in Mr. Meyer's field, after our capsizing adventure. "Aren't I glad I'm out er the wilderness." My poor horse has stood up to "post feed" all night without a whinny of complaint. Nero & I had kept him company, and we were all prepared to do justice to Mrs. Brown's good breakfast. The horse was allowed two hours in wh. to eat his provender. It didn't take Nero & me half that time, but think we both had about forty winks of sleep.
Notwithstanding all my troubles, did not forget my business, and those deserters were often in my mind. Did not want them to get into the valley much ahead of me. To me it is quite exciting--pursuit of deserters--& I am a little after the hour & order in following them up, if once after them. At eight I was again in saddle & soon climbing the mountain, a mile or two above the base of wh. I came to snow, a few inches deep, & wh. increased the higher up I went until it was 8 to 10 feet deep. But there was a well-worn trail, about one foot deep. As long as the horse stepped true we were all right, but an inch or two to [the] right or left & down he went with that foot in the soft snow. So I led most of the way. Soon after leaving Brown's it began to snow very fast and so continued for several hours. As long as I found old snow in which the trail was clearly marked, I had no trouble except the horse would "ball up" considerably with the new, soft snow. But as I have before stated, through the center of the range & dividing it into two ridges is a stream named Jenny Creek, in the vicinity of which and in a few open spaces in the timber farther up the mountain the old snow had been entirely melted. In these places I found considerable difficulty & experienced some delay. Snow had fallen to the depth of 3 or 4 inches that day & entirely obliterated the marks of the wagon road. On all open ground where there was any chaparral or bushes I had no trouble, for I could see the way the road had run by the absence of the brush six feet wide. But there were a few barren spots ¼ mile or so in extent when I had to dismount & tie my horse, where I found I was likely to go astray, and go to the timber on the far side of the waste place & look for spotted trees or other sign of the road. I did not get lost, but several times lost my way for a quarter of an hour. But with patience & by not "losing my head" finally got through. My horse was tough, and brought me at last down to Colwell's at 3 p.m. Got dinner and gave the beast a rest & feed until 5, when we were off again for Ashland, where we arrived at 9 o'clk. p.m. My horse was put in the stable & I saw that he was fed. Nero & I had supper & I retired to my little room in the hotel at 10 & was up at early daylight. Had paid my bill the night before & given the horse enough feed for all night. Saddled my horse and started at 5 for Jacksonville where, after a ride of 16 miles over a good road, I arrived at 8. Mr. Manning took charge of my horse (and dog, both very tired) and while he also got me one of his own saddle horses ready, so I could continue my journey, I went to [the] hotel and got breakfast & [the] same time saw Fide, who boarded there while teaching. I learned that my men had not been in town. At nine a.m. I was riding "Pinto" at a seven-miles-an-hour gait away from J., and by noon had reached Big Butte Creek, 20 miles. Here the evidence satisfied me that my men had crossed the bridge that morning & that I had missed them on the way. So I hastened back by [the] way I came, & by inquiring of citizens traced them to within ten miles of J. & to where roads led off to different parts of the valley. Had reached Magruder's store, 7 miles from town, trace of them had been lost for 3 or 4 miles--and as I was somewhat worn out by hard riding & loss of sleep, had about made up my mind I must give them up for that day (it then being late in the afternoon), having no doubt but I should have them before they could get away from the valley.
I stopped at Magruder's store, however, to make inquiries, & give a description of the men, and offer the reward ($30) for their capture. In front of [the] store were two men talking, one mounted, who lived a few miles out on [the] road I had just come over. To them I gave a description of the men, stated I had traced them plainly to such a point, where I had lost them, & offered the reward, viz., $60 for both. The horseman rode away. I stopped to talk a minute more with Magruder & was about riding away too, toward town, when I heard hallowing out on the road 300 yards from [the] store.
Could not understand what was said, but thinking I was wanted, set the spurs into my horse & in less time than it takes to write was down in a hollow of [the] road hidden from [the] store, & there were my two worthies, brought to bay by the citizen, who said, "Guess I've got your men." I took them to the store, searched them. [The] citizen went to Mr. Constant's house close by & hired a wagon & team, & they were hauled into Jacksonville, where we arrived just as it was getting dark. I rode my horse immediately behind [the] wagon, with my pistol drawn & at rest, for I did not know but they would try to escape at some points, where [the] road was wooded on each side.
Our entry into town attracted considerable attention. As soon as possible had my prisoners lodged for the night in jail. Washed up and had supper & then Fide and I spent the evening at a Catholic fair in [the] hall over Horne's hotel. It was a pleasant evening on several accounts. I had the consciousness of having worked very hard and faithfully in the line of duty, the gratification of having been successful, and the extreme happiness of being with Fide.
Next day I rested, and the next, with horses provided for prisoners and Mr. Plymale to help take care of them, & with horses returned to Ft. Klamath by [the] way I had come. In due course of time--in 3 days ride--my prisoners were installed in the guard house with irons on their legs--and I resumed command of [the] post ready to repeat the trip. Had I not been so generally successful, there wd. have been more desertions than did occur. A little earlier in the season, I had been on a short visit to the valley & was on my return via Yreka, the more northerly passes in the mountains being at that time closed with snow, when halfway from Y. to Fort Klamath met Sergt. Bodeholz, the mail carrier, who informed me of the desertions from [the] post of three of my men, pvts. Davis, Farley & ____. They had been part of the escort of Capt. Knapp, Indian agent, & Mr. Meacham, Indian superintendent, in a mission to Captain Jack and the Modocs on Lost River to try & prevail on them to live upon the reservation. I told the Sergeant to wait a certain time for me at Yreka. I proceeded on to Klamath River, where I spent the night at Brown's, who informed me that the deserters had not crossed the river at his ferry but that, deserting from Lost River country, they would be likely to keep down the left bank of Klamath River & not cross it at all. At daybreak, having had breakfast, I started back, and riding fifty miles reached Yreka just after dark to find that from the description two of my men, Farley and Davis, had left on the stage that morning, booked and paid to Red Bluff, on the Sacramento River. I found I could trust Constable Williams of Trinity Center, on [the] stage road eighty or 90 miles from Yreka, to assist me in capture of the men, and I that evening telegraphed, giving description of men & offering [a] handsome reward. Received his reply that he would look out for them.
I then retired for a few hours rest, but was up before day to take [the] stage south to look for my third man. I traced him 30 miles to Fort Jones, and then thought the probability so great of finding him that I stopped, telegraphed Williams my whereabouts & to inform me if he got my men. Then I spent the day in Scott Valley trying to hunt up the 3rd man, who though not so smart as the other two, did finally elude me. However, had I not the other two to look after, am pretty sure I should have had him.
During the day received a dispatch from Williams, saying he had the men, and asking for orders. I told him to bring them 12 miles to [the] "New York House," where I would meet him next evening. Next day got out to [the] stage again, and rode across Scott Mountain, arriving at [the] N.Y. House at dark. Half an hour later the northern bound stage arrived and with it were the men I expected, Davis, as they were conducted into the house by Mr. Williams, remarking with characteristic impudence, "Well, you've got the best of us this time, Captain." After supper I made them lie down together in a corner, placed a table before them, where I could watch every movement, had a pot of strong tea placed by the fire, called for writing material, placed my pistol on the table, and was thus prepared to sit guard over my prisoners for the night. Mr. Williams was tired and had done so well already, did not feel like asking him to take a turn at guard. I paid him $60 in coin besides his stage expenses, with which he seemed well satisfied & pleased. I wrote nearly all night, drank a quart of strong tea & an hour before day was ready for the stage. Placed my men in [the] forward part of [the] wagon--had no irons for them. I sat on mail bags in [the] rear, facing them, revolver in hand, and thus we rode over that horrid road 80 miles to Yreka, crossing Scott Mountain on [a] sled and arriving at Y. at 8 o'clk. in [the] evening, I pretty worn out. It may be thought i was a little nervous, keeping my pistol so constantly in sight. Not so--I knew my prisoners were desperate men, large, strong fellows, who wd. if the least opportunity was offered them would escape, even if they had to use violence to me, a "commissioned officer," and I knew my only chance to take them that long ride--over mountains, through the timber & part of [the] time at night--was to make them feel that I was expecting them to try to escape, and that I was determined they should not. But, oh! how sleepy I was all that day. Guess I took just one wink of sleep a hundred times--but am sure neither of them could have moved without my knowing it. Besides, I made them sit in the bottom of the wagon with their backs toward me, so they did not see how sleepy I was.
Arrived at Yreka, I obtained permission to lock them up for [the] night in [the] county jail, and after I had seen they had some supper I went to [the] hotel for my own, and a night's rest--much needed.
Sergt. Bodeholz, mail carrier, had meantime remained at Y. Next day hired two saddle horses and with the sergt.'s help returned to Fort Klamath. It took three days, so we had to guard our prisoners two nights, the sergt. & I taking turn guard duty. It was a hard & anxious trip & I was glad to get back.
During May, I obtained leave of absence for four months, and on the 1st of June 1870 at about noon, in the residence of Mr. J. B. White, Rock Point, Oregon, I was married to Fidelia S. Beach by Rev. Mr. [Moses A.] Williams, Presbn. clergyman near Jacksonville. None but the family & half a dozen frds. were present. Mr. Ashmead & Emma Beach went in the carriage that p.m. with us as far as Ashland, where we took the stage for San Francisco, at which latter place we duly arrived and remained four days, when we left on the hotel train overland for N.Y. Did not stop until we reached Detroit, where by agreement we were met by Fide's Uncle Royal & Aunt Hattie Lewis, who after a few days rest at D. accompanied us to New York. At Detroit I went out to Fort Wayne nearby & called on Lieut. Sumner Rogers, 1st Infty., & wife. He was in the 2nd Maine & she was Susie Wheeler of E. Orrington. Mr. Rogers called on Fide in D. Mrs. Rogers was not able. At San Francisco several of Fide's frds. & mine called. At Niagara Falls we spent a day & arrived safety in N.Y. & stopped at the St. James Hotel on Broadway. Remained five days, seeing Cousin Alfred Nourse & family, Mr. & Mrs. B. F. Nourse of Boston & other frds. Proceeded fr. N.Y. to West Winsted, where for two days we visited Fide's uncle, Albert Beach. Here we left Uncle R. & Aunt Hattie, while we proceeded to Holliston, Mass., where for three days we visited Uncle Walter Goodale. Wilmot Goodale & wife from Baton Rouge, La., were there, as also Rev. John R. Thurston & two daughters, Bessie & Margaret. Lissie Waters & her two children were also there. Had a most delightful visit, and then visited for a few days my Uncle Henry & Aunt Emma Swazey in Chelsea. Cousin Emma was then alive, & a sweet, warmhearted girl of about 13 she was. Then we went for a day or two to Saco, Maine, where is that nicest of all places to visit, Cousin Lincoln & Prudence Goodale's. Geo. & family were home. Walter, Ben, Alfred & Cousin Alfred Nourse, little Minnie. From Saco we proceeded to Bangor & took a carriage down to Father's, who with his wife met us with open arms & hearts. I had not been at home for nearly four years. Everywhere our frds. were very kind, and all took Fide very readily to their hearts, which they could not well help doing, so lovable was and is she. Uncle George Swazey made her a present of $50 with wh. she bought some silver & other things useful.
At Father's we remained about six weeks, visiting for a day or two at Bangor & Bucksport. At [the] former place Aunt Charlotte Thurston was still keeping house on 4th St. & Belle [was] not then married & Willis lived with her. At Bucksport Aunt Snow, then living, kept house at the old place, her grandchildren Ada & Minnie Emerson with her. A year or two later, Aunt fell downstairs and broke her neck. At the expiration of our visit at Father's we started on our return west, making short visits of a day or two at Saco, Chelsea, & Holliston and reached Flint, Mich., where Fide had previous to going to Oregon in 1868 lived for several years, with her Aunt Hattie Lewis. At this place we remained for about three weeks, making a short visit meantime on uncles at Grand Blanc nearby. Then we started west again, stopped one day at my old place, Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, where I visited my frds. the Cranes. Continued on by Union Pacific R.R. to Ogden, U.T., where we decided to run down to Salt Lake City, only thirty miles. Got there Saty. evening. Mr. Shearman, brother of Julia, called to see us. That day Brigham Young with several of his bishops had returned from a long tour in the southern party of [the] Terty. & in the small tabernacle (seating about 4000) Sunday morning we heard him harangue his people for an hour and a half. The man was coarse in his expressions, but there was a certain something fascinating about him. It is hard to tell just what it was. The only portion of the talk I now remember was a tirade against the fashions in dress and calling down or rather invoking the judgment of Heaven upon the women if they aped the customs of their gentile sisters. From the appearance of those women I saw, his remarks were entirely uncalled for. Afterwards Fide & I went into the big tabernacle, said to seat 12,000 people. It is very large, but as a description of that structure, as well as the city of Salt Lake, is told in so many books, I forbear.
No accident occurred, & no incident worthy of note, as we journeyed on west, across the dusty Humboldt Desert & up & through & over the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
Reaching the junction, near Sacramento, we took the cars of Cal. & Oregon R.R. for Redding, where we changed to the stage, on which we rode night & day for 72 hours to Rock Point, where we were welcomed back by Mother White, M.W. & the girls. I next day started for Frt. Klamath to see if my house was ready & [to] get transportation for baggage &c. Remained two or three days & returned to Rock Point. And in a day or two we departed for our new army home--new to Fide--& new to me in any such relation as head of a family. Sister Emma Beach, who spent the winter with us, accompanied us in the journey. We were out but one night. Arrived late in camp & slept in the forest. Next day arrived safely, shortly after dark, at Fort Klamath, were we found Lieut. Thoburn & Dr. Cardwell glad enough to see us. Next day settled down to housekeeping. I had hired in Jacksonville a young Chinese boy but a few weeks from China--could not speak a word--Fide made him very useful. He remained with us a year and "He" was his name.
That fall Lieut. Thoburn began to show dropsical signs, which proved to be Bright's disease. Dr. Cardwell attended him carefully all winter, but he grew no better, & I had his commissary and quartermaster duties to perform. He scarcely left the house for months. As early in the spring as he could cross the mountains on wheels he left for his home in Ohio, on sick leave. He continued to grow worse and died at Columbus O., on the 3rd of July 1871. A most faithful officer & warm friend was thus lost to me.
A few months before his departure, his brother Harry & Fide's brother Jay Beach made a conjoint application for the position of trader at the post, basing their request the former for his services in the navy, and [the] latter in [the] army during [the] late war. I as post commander approved the application & forwarded it. In due time the warrant of the Secretary of War came, naming Jay alone as post trader at Ft. Klamath. Notwithstanding this they went in equal partners. Mr. Geo. Nurse had been trading there, though holding no appointment. Having been much embarrassed by furnishing Indian supplies for which he had not been paid, he kept no assortment of goods. Jay borrowed money from his stepfather, Mr. White, put up buildings & brought in a good stock of goods. A few weeks after Lt. Thoburn's death, Harry Thoburn desired to return east, & Jay bought him out.
March 18th our little George was born. A few days after Lieut. Thoburn's departure, James Barclay started on the west bank of Wood River a whiskey-selling place, and for two weeks I was much annoyed by my men going there in the night & getting liquor by the canteen full. Barclay thought Wood River was the western boundary of the reservation. I knew the western boundary was a straight line, and by actual measurement, one night, & with the help of Corporal Brooks, found he was on the military reservation. For a time I thought as Barclay did, that he was outside of [the] reservation, in which event I could not disturb him. The military reservation was within and a part of the larger Indian reservation and consequently, as I believed, "Indian country." Now there is a law of Congress making it a penal offense to introduce liquors into the "Indian country," and authorizing any post commander to arrest any party so offending & turn them over to [the] nearest U.S. marshal, and that such prisoner may be confined in [the] post guard house not to exceed three days.
I made it my place to capture Barclay and his party with their whiskey at night. I was all alone at [the] post, Lieut. Thoburn having departed. (By a lone Indian, no officer to assist or advise.) I did not divulge my plans to anyone, but sat up myself, so as to be sure and at two o'clock in the morning went down to barracks & quietly wakened my first sergeant [Michael] Moroney, who in turn called the half dozen men I named & we started out, the men with their muskets loaded & I with my pistol. I took the precaution to take men enough, for I knew that Barclay & those with him were desperate fellows. At the Wood River bridge a mile from [the] post and a mile above Barclay's camp I left two men as a guard & proceeded down the right bank of [the] stream with the rest. Half way down to Barclay's, we ran out two of my men loaded down with half a dozen canteens each of whiskey, besides several pockets full of bottles. This they were taking to camp to retail at a profit. I ordered them to halt, empty all the liquor on the ground, and as I did not want the care of these two men as prisoners going to surprise the whiskey camp, I ordered them to go to their quarters at Ft. K. If I took them with me I was afraid they might warn Barclay of our approach, and as they had been drinking, thought discipline might not have a very strong hold on them. They were glad to get off apparently so easy & made tracks towards home. I waited until they were out of sight, when I resumed my march down the river & soon came to Barclay's camp, consisting of a tent in which he slept with his Indian wife and one or two brush shelters for his men. One man sat by the camp fire. Barclay was in [the] tent and Rouse--a third man--was asleep in one of the brush "wickiups." B. was scarcely asleep, his customers had so recently left, but we surprised him, so he had no chance to make resistance, even had he wished to, which he scarcely did, as we were two to his one. I called him out, as well as his squaw, placed Barclay & his man Rouse under guard, and then ordered [the] rest of them to search for liquor. We found at [the] head of his bed a keg with about three gallons whiskey. Latter was turned on the ground, and the grass and brush was beaten to find some more, but without avail. Then we returned to camp, where we arrived just as the bugler was sounding Reveille a little after daybreak. As I marched the two prisoners into the guard house, they saw about a dozen soldiers walking the ring with logs of wood on their shoulders and besides the guard house was full, all undergoing punishment on his account--and for getting drunk on his whiskey. Fully half of my company was in limbo & had been for a week or more. Barclay & Rouse I had confined in separate cells, and a team sent to his camp to haul his tent, bedding, squaw and other property down to the Indian agency.
These men I kept in close confinement for two weeks, when the post was reinforced by Co. "B" 1st Cavly., Capt. James Jackson. In the meantime I wrote to [the] Department headquarters at Portland, reporting my action and asking for instructions. A reply did not come until Major Jackson (who continued the confinement of the men) had been in command for about two weeks. General Canby approved of my course in the premises (he afterwards told my lawyer, ex-Gov. Gibbs, that it was too often the case, at such a time, or in such an emergency, an officer was rather inclined to shirk responsibility and conflict with civil authorities rather than assume too much). General Canby, though approving my energetic measures with the lawbreakers, yet reminded the post commander that according to law the men should have been kept at [the] post, but three days before being started on their way to the nearest U.S. marshal and advised that they be released. So Major Jackson released them, first making them sign a paper that they would not settle or live within so many miles of the post. This of course was not worth the paper it was written on. As soon as Barclay and Rouse could get to Jacksonville, they commenced civil suits against me for damages, for false imprisonment, the first claiming $10,000 and the second but $7,250. And one fine day not long after, a deputy sheriff rode into the post and served me with copies of the complaints and an order from the court at J. to appear within ten days and make answer. I wrote out to the judge and asked to have the time extended to 20 days that I might advise with my dept. commander. This request was granted. I wrote to the Adjt. General at Dept. H.Q. stating the condition of affairs and asking whether I should defend the suit. I suggested that as I had no property in Oregon to attach, perhaps it would be as well to let the cause go by default, making no answer. But I asked, in case Genl. Canby should decide I ought to defend the suits, that counsel might be assigned me, or I be authorized to employ same. General C. replied through his adjt. general "Defend the suits by all means. You are authorized to employ counsel" and also directing me to forward to the U.S. District Attorney at Portland, ex-Gov. Gibbs, such information against Barclay & Rouse that he could institute criminal proceedings against them before the U.S. courts.
So I by letter gave such information to Gen. Gibbs and went out to Jacksonville and employed Mr. B. F. Dowell as my attorney, made answer to complaints, denying false imprisonment &c., &c., acknowledging imprisonment, but averring that it was done in the line of duty--simply carrying out the laws of the country against lawbreakers. I also said that, being the only officer at the post, and the condition of the post, through the fault of [the] plaintiff, being so bad, I could not leave to conduct prisoners to [the] nearest U.S. marshal at Portland, Oregon, and could not safely send them under charge of the very men whom they had been corrupting. Well, that autumn and winter (there being no exception to the rule of the law's "proverbial delays") I had to make two or three trips to Jacksonville & one or two to Yreka, Cal. Finally a day was set, & I made affidavit that I did not believe I could obtain justice with a local jury, & moving for a change of venue to the United States District Court at Portland, Oregon.
This the court had to grant me, so proceedings were off for several months, and the cases were not brought to trial until July 1872.
To go back a little--I in Nov. 1869, after my engagement, took out an insurance policy on my life for $10,000, a 15-year endowment policy in the Equitable of N.Y. The annual premium is $667.70, which, less the dividends, I have continued to pay up to present time (Aug. 1876).
[In the] spring of 1871, sister Emma Beach returned to Rock Point, and the following summer Fide was the only lady at the post. At agency, however, five miles distant, were Mrs. High, Miss Stout and Mrs. Ferrer--all pleasant ladies.
Second Lieut. W. L. Clark of [the] 23rd Infty. was sent up in August to report for duty with my company, in place of Lieut. Thoburn, deceased. He remained with [the] company until after it went to Arizona in 1872. In December 1871 Major Geo. G. Huntt of [the] 1st Cavly. arrived and commanded [the] post until the next summer, when he was ordered elsewhere. By April 1872 orders had been received for the 23rd Infantry to go to Arizona, being relieved in Oregon by the 21st, which had been for several years in Arizona. It was expected we at Klamath would get our orders to move by the middle of May, and as Fide wished to make her mother a visit before we went south, I took her and George out by a favorable opportunity that occurred. Geo. had been sick for a week with bowel complaint, but the ride did him good. We took three days to go out, round by the wagon road past Linkville and Colwell's.
Fide did not expect to be at her mother's for more than two weeks, but it proved to be two months, for a company of the 21st Infantry, 1st Lieut. Robert Pollock, did not arrive and relieve me until the 24th June. He arrived one afternoon, and that evening I transferred to him by candlelight my surplus ordnance, quartermaster's stores, and camp and garrison equipage & was off with my company next forenoon. Lieut. Clarke was engaged to be married to Miss Hayden of Vancouver & was to have her meet him at Mr. White's at Rock Point & be married, so I let him go out by himself ahead of [the] company, and I had the work of moving my company, drawing rations, loading wagons, packing my own baggage, transferring to Capt. Pollock surplus stores &c., &c. Now we will go back a couple of weeks, and I must relate the terrible accident, or tragedy, which at this important time deprived me of my First Sergt. Moroney--a large, magnificent soldier. He, during my troubles with Barclay, had been of the greatest service to me--so had his slayer, Corporal Brooks--and I prized them both very much. But I think the Sergeant was a little jealous of the Corporal.
Brooks had for several weeks been a patient in the post hospital for rheumatism, and was that day to be discharged. His papers were made out & discharge only waited the signature of the post commander. Brooks & Moroney had had some personal difficulty; the former went to barracks to turn in some cap trimmings, when the Sergt. assaulted him with his fists, & when Brooks drew a pistol, with a piece of board, striking him repeatedly with [the] latter, when Brooks fired, the little ball, not larger than a pea, from a vest pocket pistol severing the artery close to the heart.
Moroney fell & became unconscious & expired in about 20 minutes as he was being carried to the hospital on a stretcher. Brooks was confined & a post mortem held by the doctor on the body of M. Major Huntt would take no responsibility about the disposition of Brooks. I wanted him either to discharge him, or send him to Jacksonville & turn him over to the civil authorities. He would do neither, but thought the man should be taken to San Francisco when my co. went & turned over to Division Headquarters. Well, nothing was done. A week or ten days later I left with my company, marching out via Linkville and Ashland en route to Crescent City for [the] steamer to San Fr.
Sergt. M. had two or three frds. who felt very bitterly towards Brooks, and I had to guard him very closely on the way to Jacksonville for fear not that he would escape, but that personal injury might not reach him [sic]. At night I did not have any tent pitched, and caused Brooks, who was in irons, to sleep quite near me with a guard over him. My precautions [illegible] no doubt saved his life.
At Ashland I telegraphed to the sheriff at Jack'le. to meet me at my that night's camp for a prisoner I had for him. That evening Mr. Manning drove out in a buggy & took Brooks to town. This relieved me very much. Next day I marched [the] company twenty miles to Rock Point, where I found Fide and George well. Received a subpoena for myself and several of my men, witnesses in the killing of Sergt. M., to go to J. next day. I had retained Mr. Fay as counsel for Brooks. It was a justice trial, evidence going to show that Brooks had but acted in self-defense & he was discharged from custody. While in Jacksonville Brooks, Corporal Russell & I recd. a subpoena to proceed to Portland, Oregon, as witnesses in [the] indictment of Barclay and Rouse, these latter having been arrested by [the] depty. U.S. marshal. I telegraphed my subpoena to Genl. Canby and received orders to turn company over to Lieut. Clarke & with the two men go to Portland. I remained at Rock Point a day to see my company off. Lieut. Clarke, accompanied by his bride, then got on [the] stage and rode 150 miles to [the] R.R. at Roseburg & from thence by rail to Portland. Rouse was a passenger in [the] stage with me part of [the] way & Barclay all the way--both in the care of Depty. Marshal Savage. At Portland I soon was made to appear before the U.S. grand jury, and upon our evidence Barclay was indicted & failing to give security was held for trial in [the] city jail. Rouse was not indicted & returned to Southern Oregon, and when two or three weeks later the action of Rouse vs. Goodale was called in court, he failed to answer, by attorney or otherwise, & the case was dismissed, costs fixed on plaintiff.
I knew the civil action of Barclay vs. Goodale would be tried in August, also [the] same month the criminal indictment of U.S. vs. Barclay, but as I wished my family to go into Arizona with the company, got my expenses paid by the marshal & proceeded by stage & rail back to Rock Point, leaving Brooks and Russell at Ft. Vancouver until they were required as witnesses.
My reason for wishing to send my family into Arizona at [the] same time as [the] company was the Indians at that time in that terty. were very hostile and troublesome, and I expected to have to go by stage without any escort whatever, and did not wish my wife and baby to be exposed unnecessarily. Sister Emma Beach had consented to go with us to Arizona, so we four, with our light baggage--the heavy baggage having gone with [the] company--took [the] stage at R.P. & in four days reached San Francisco over those rough mountain roads. I had to hold George, then over a year old, on a pillow, and much of the time at arm's length so he would not get too much shaken up. He got to be a very heavy child towards the last of that stage ride. I was never more glad to get into a R.R. car.
We waited five days at the Lick House, San F., for the arrival of [the] co., which came down from Crescent City by steamer. The company was to be at Angel Island in San F. harbor for a couple of days. I relieved Clarke of the care of the company going to [the] island, & while there so as to give
[six pages missing]
family right to his house, at Dept. Headqrs. when Mr. Nickerson did all she could for their comfort. They remained but one night, though urged to remain longer, Fide wishing to get settled as soon as possible in her own quarters.
Now I will resume the narrative of my own way, which led me right back to Portland, the way I had come, for before the steamer sailed I recd. [the] subpoena to appear as a witness vs. Barclay, who in the meantime, & having failed to furnish bonds for his appearance at [the] proper time, had been imprisoned in the county jail. At Rock Point I spent a night with Mother White and our frds. there, got a little rested from the long stage ride from California, and reached Portland to find I had several days to wait for trial, first, of the civil action of Barclay vs. Goodale, damage to extent of $10,000 claimed for alleged "false imprisonment." My lawyers were B. F. Dowell of Jacksonville and ex-Gov. A. C. Gibbs of Portland, then U.S. Dist. Atty. for Oregon. Barclay was released from jail from day to day to attend the trial, and testify against me. It is unnecessary to go into particulars; suffice it to say, the trial, before Judge Deady and a jury, lasted the whole of three days, attracted much attention from the Portland press, and resulted in a finding for plaintiff Barclay, and assessing damages at one dollar ($1.00), the court placing costs on pltf. The court instructed [the] jury that in holding [the] prisoner more than five days I had been guilty of false imprisonment, but they must take into consideration in awarding damages all the facts in the case, as shown by evidence, the lack of any appearance of malice on my part &c., &c. The award after the jury had been out but a few minutes was as above stated. A week later the criminal action of the U.S. vs. James Barclay was tried. The witnesses & evidence were very much the same as at [the] former trial, though the proceedings lasted but two and one-half days. The result was the sustaining of the indictment, defendant having been proven guilty of "introducing liquor into the Indian country," and the court sentenced B. to one year's hard labor in the penitentiary, which was duly served at Salem, Oregon--though effort was made by his frds. to have him pardoned out.
While in Portland, I purchased for $650 coin from Mr. Wakefield lots 5 and 6 of block 149 East Portland. They are very eligibly situated, and I still hold them, believing someday they will be valuable. That with a few acres (1 at Tacoma) in Wash. Terty. is all the real property I ever owned.
As soon as I could get away, returned to San Francisco so as to be ready for the first steamer to [the] Colorado River. Had to wait nearly a week, which I spent at the Grand Hotel. Called on Frank Ladd & family at South Park. The stage ride overland was very interesting, and the scenery, especially on the upper Sacramento, exceedingly grand and beautiful. It was a little poky [sic--"groping in the dark"], riding at night, at a good stiff trot down some of those mountainsides, when twelve inches to the right (or left) would have sent us tumbling almost vertically for a thousand feet down. As we rode down along the banks of the upper Sacramento, we could see the salmon by the hundred jumping from the water and Indians on the rocks spearing them.
At the proper time I went on board the steamship Newbern--same that had carried my family a month before--& we sailed away from San F. down the harbor past Alcatraz Island & out at the "Golden Gate" and on to the Pacific Ocean. Had some very pleasant passengers, paymaster Nelson & wife, Capt. Taylor of the 3rd Cavly., Capt. Smith of my own regt., Dr. Rose of the army, 4 actg. asst. surgeons, and Col. & Mrs. Rockwell of
[remainder missing]Reminiscences of Greenleaf Austin Goodale written August 1876, Southern Oregon Historical Society MS1852. Transcribed from a photocopy of Goodale's manuscript.
BRIG. GEN. GOODALE, U.S.A., RETIRED, DIES
Had Resided in Wakefield for 12 Years.
Had Commanded White, Black, Red and Yellow Men in Army.
WAKEFIELD, Feb. 17.--Brig. Gen. Greenleaf A. Goodale, U.S.A., retired, died this morning at his home, 41 Jordan Ave., aged 75. He had been ill since last November and death was due to complication of diseases. Gen. Goodale had lived in this town since his retirement from the Army in 1903, and had taken an active interest in affairs here.
A veteran of the Civil and Spanish wars, Gen. Goodale had a splendid record during his service for the United States, which covered a period of nearly half a century. He enlisted in the 6th Maine Regiment of Union Volunteers in May, 1861, and served gallantly in the first division of the 5th Army Corps until Jan. 2, 1864, when he was appointed first lieutenant in the 77th United States Colored Infantry in July, 1866. In the battle of Gettysburg he distinguished himself and was brevetted captain for gallant and meritorious services.
Gen. Goodale, in his career as a soldier, had commanded white, black, red and yellow men, from the St. Croix to the Philippines. At the outbreak of the Spanish War he was major of the 23rd United States Infantry, and while in the islands became lieutenant colonel of the 3rd United States Infantry, in July, 1899. In April, 1901, he was made colonel of the 17th United States Infantry. In the winter of 1901 and 1902 Gen. Goodale organized and commanded a new discharge company in San Francisco. He commanded the 17th Infantry, stationed at Vancouver Barracks, in 1902, and was retired the following year with the rank of brigadier general.
Gen. Goodale took an active part in Grand Army affairs, and was a prominent member of Edward W. Kinsley Post 113, G.A.R., of Boston. For two years he was president of the Hooker Veteran Association, and was also a member of the Loyal Legion. He was a member of the Masonic fraternity.
His wife, Mrs. Margaret Montgomery Goodale, who lived here before her marriage, and one son, Capt. George S. Goodale of the 23rd United States Infantry, who has been in Wakefield for the past few weeks, survive him. Another son, Roy L. Goodale, died in Detroit a few months ago.
Boston Daily Globe, February 17, 1915, page 21