Joseph Lane was born in North Carolina on the 14th of Dec., 1801. In 1804 his father migrated to the West and settled in Henderson Co., Kentucky. Thence, in the year 1816, his son went into Warwick Co., Ind., where he became a clerk in a mercantile house, a position in which he remained some years. Having married and fixed his abode, as he thought, for life, in Vanderberg Co., young Lane soon gained the confidence and esteem of the people, and at the election of 1822 was chosen by the voters of that county and Warwick a member of the Indiana Legislature. He was barely eligible when he took his seat, and though at that early age a "man of family," he seems from the accounts of his contemporaries to have presented at his entrance into public life the appearance of quite a juvenile legislator. Hon. Oliver H. Smith, for several years a U.S. Senator and a political opponent of Gen. Lane, in a work recently published, thus described his appearance at the opening of the legislature of which body he himself was also a new member. "The roll call progressing as I stood by the side of the clerk, 'The County of Warwick and Vanderberg,' said the clerk, I saw advancing a slender, freckle-faced boy, in appearance 18 or 20 years of age. I marked his step as he came up to my side, and have often noticed his air since; it was Gen. Joseph Lane of Mexican and Oregon fame in after years."
    The youthful representative of Vanderberg and Warwick was subsequently reelected by the voters of those counties, and continued to serve them, at intervals of one or two years, in one or the other branch of the legislature from the year 1822 to 1846, a period of 24 years. To anyone who knows the fidelity of Gen. Lane to the high and responsible public trusts confided to him during the last 12 years, it is needless to say that as a member of the Indiana Legislature he was vigilant, active and efficient. Tenacious of the right and zealous to promote the interests of his constituents, he was at the same time just and liberal in his views on all questions affecting the rights and interests of other portions of the state. At a time when it was thought that Indiana, overburdened with debt, would be compelled to repudiate, he labored untiringly to save the state from this deep disgrace, and had the satisfaction at last of seeing his efforts crowned with success. Always capable of expressing his views clearly and forcibly on every subject of legislation, Gen. Lane justly thought that too much of the time of all legislative bodies was consumed in idle and unprofitable debate. He accordingly did not obtrude his opinions on the body of which he was a member, on all occasions whether suitable or unsuitable, but strove to discharge his legislative duties in a way which if not quite so ostentatious he well knew was far more creditable to himself and useful to his constituents.
    An ardent supporter of the administration of Gen. Jackson and Martin Van Buren, as long as the latter followed in the footsteps of his illustrious predecessor, Gen. Lane took an active part in the struggles between the Democratic and old Whig parties, and by his great weight of character and frequent and laborious canvassing, he infused a spirit like his own into the Democracy of the state.
    In the spring of 1846, the war commenced between the U.S. and Mexico, and a call was made upon Indiana for volunteers. Among the first to respond to this call was Joseph Lane. Without waiting for a commission from the President, regardless of every consideration of self-interest or self-aggrandizement, looking only to the fact that the country required his services, he enlisted as private in Capt. [William] Walker's Co., 2nd Regiment Indiana Volunteers. His fellow soldiers, however, had no idea of permitting to remain in the ranks one whom nature had so obviously endowed with the qualifies of a commander. He was accordingly, on the completion of the regiment, unanimously elected Colonel soon after on the recommendation of the Indiana Legislature to Congress, and without any solicitation on his part, President Polk sent him a commission of Brigadier General.
    The first service, if service it can be called, required of Gen. Lane after his arrival in Mexico, was extremely irksome and disagreeable. Stationed by order of the commanding general with his brigade in a swamp on the banks of the Rio Grande, he was compelled to remain inactive for several months. Here, under the sweltering heat of a tropical sun, his troops were decimated by the diseases peculiar to that pestilential climate. He, himself, was almost the only man belonging to the brigade who was not prostrated at some period during their long confinement on this fatal spot. At length the welcome order came to advance to Saltillo, of which place, on his arrival, he was appointed by Gen. Butler civil and military governor. Here, indeed, he was not long permitted to remain, being ordered with his command, after the battle of Monterrey, to join Gen. Taylor.
    On the 22nd and 23rd of February, 1847, was fought the great battle of Buena Vista, which in nothing save the number of the combatants falls short of the most famous of modern times. The disposition of the American troops by the commanding general was such that during the engagement the brigade of Gen. Lane was in the hottest of the fight from beginning to end. The hostile operations of the opposing armies, resulting in the great battle of the 23rd, commenced on the heights around Buena Vista on the 22nd. On the afternoon of that day, the Mexican lines being sufficiently advanced, a shell thrown from a howitzer, by order of Santa Anna, was the signal for the attack. Immediately a heavy fire, in continued rolling volleys, was opened by the Mexican light troops under Ampudia, upon the American skirmishers on the opposite ridge of the mountain. The Americans replied with spirit, and the firing was kept up with much animation on both sides, but without any definite result, until darkness put an end to the combat, and both parties retired to await a renewal of the strife on a more extended scale on the following day.
    On the morning of the 23rd the battle was renewed, and raged with the greatest fury throughout the day. The first movement of Santa Anna was to turn the left flank of the Americans. Four companies, under Maj. Gorman, were dispatched by Gen. Lane to intercept this movement. Soon after, three companies of the 2nd Illinois and three of Marshall's Kentucky regiment were sent to Gorman's assistance. While these troops were engaged with the enemy on the brow of the mountain, a large body of Mexicans, 6000 strong, advanced to the plain toward the position held by Gen. Lane. He immediately formed his little band, now reduced to 400 men, into line to receive the onset of this immense force. Hardly was the movement completed when the Mexicans opened a tremendous fire from their entire line, which was returned by the Americans with promptness and good effect. "Nothing," says an eyewitness, "could exceed the imposing and fearful appearance of the torrent of assailants which at this moment swept along toward the little band of Lane. The long line of infantry presented a continuous and unbroken sheet of fire. But their opponents, though few in number, were undismayed and defended their position with a gallantry worthy of the highest praise. Several times I observed the Mexican lines, galled by the American musketry and shattered by the fearful discharges from O'Brien's battery, break and fall back, but their successive formation beyond the ridge enabled them to force the men back to their position, and quickly replace those who were slain."
    Thus commenced the battle on the plain of Buena Vista, on the morning of the 23rd, and continued to rage with unabated fury and varying success to the close of that memorable and eventful day. In proportion to the violence and impetuosity of the assaults of the Mexicans on the American lines, was the steady and unshaken firmness with which these assaults were received. If at any time a regiment, overcome by superior numbers, was compelled to give way, another quickly advanced to the rescue, drove back the enemy, and enabled it to regain its former position. In this way the Mexican general was kept at bay, his strength defied, his most skillful combinations and maneuvers baffled and defeated by his vigilant and active foe. Late in the afternoon, finding stratagem and force alike unavailing, the day drawing to a close and no chasm yet opened for his legions in the ranks of the enemy, Santa Anna determined, by assailing the weakest part of the American line with an overwhelming force, to make a last desperate effort to win the day. Collecting all his infantry, he ordered them to charge the Illinois and Kentucky regiments. These brave troops made a gallant resistance against the fearful odds opposed to them, but seeing their leaders fall, and overpowered by vastly superior numbers, they gave way and began to fall back. Gen. Lane at this critical moment hastened forward with his brigade and opened a destructive fire upon the Mexicans, checked their advance, and enabled the retreating regiments to form and return to the contest. This was Santa Anna's last struggle on that hotly contested and bloody field. Night spread her mantle over the scene of conflict. The weary Americans sank to repose on a gory bed, expecting a renewal of the strife on the following day. Morning came--but no enemy appeared. Silently during the night Santa Anna with his shattered legions had retired, leaving the victorious Americans masters of the field.
    Gen. Lane, having been transferred in the summer of 1847 to the line of Gen. Scott's operations, reached Vera Cruz in the early part of September. On the 20th of that month he set out towards the City of Mexico, with a force of about 2500 men, consisting of one regiment of Indiana and one of Ohio volunteers, two battalions of recruits, five small companies of volunteer horse and two pieces of artillery. This force was subsequently augmented at Jalapa by a junction with Maj. [Folliot Thornton] Lally's column of 1000 men and at Perote its strength was further increased by a company of mounted riflemen and two of volunteer infantry, besides two pieces of artillery. Several small guerrilla parties appeared at different times on the route and attacked the advance and rear guards, but were quickly repulsed, and the column continued its advance unmolested along the great road leading through the Puebla to the city of Mexico.
    At this time Col. Childs of the regular army, with a garrison of five hundred effective troops, and one thousand eight hundred invalids, was besieged in Puebla by a large force of Mexicans commanded by Santa Anna in person. This general, notwithstanding his many defeats, with a spirit unbroken by misfortune, and an energy that deserves our highest admiration, however much we may reprobate the cause in which he was engaged, had collected the remnant of his beaten army, determined, if possible, to wrest Puebla from the grasp of the American general, Scott, and thus cut off his communications with the seacoast. The gallant Childs well understood that the maintenance of his post was of the utmost importance to the success of the campaign. Every officer and soldier under his command seemed also to comprehend the immensity of the stake; and both officers and soldiers exhibited the loftiest heroism, and the most unyielding fortitude, in meeting the dangers and enduring the fatigues and privations of a protracted siege. Aware that a strong column, under Gen. Lane, was marching from Vera Cruz to their relief, the great object to be gained by the garrison was time. Santa Anna, also aware of Gen. Lane’s approach, redoubled his exertions to carry the place by storm, superintending the operations of the troops in person, directing the guns to such parts of the defenses as appeared most vulnerable, and watching with intense anxiety the effect of every shot. Convinced at length by the obstinate resistance of the besieged, and the lessening distance between him and his advancing and dreaded foe, that he must abandon his position and encounter the “Marion of the war” in an open field, he silently and cautiously withdrew, and with the main body of his troops moved in the direction of Huamantla, intending, when Gen. Lane had passed that point, to make an attack upon his rear, while another strong force should assail him at the same time from the direction of Puebla. Gen. Lane, being informed of Santa Anna’s movements, at once penetrated his designs. With the promptness of decision displayed in all his military operations, he divided his force, leaving the Ohio volunteers and a battalion of recruits, with two field guns, to guard the wagon trains. With the remainder of his column he marched, by a route diverging from the main road, directly towards Huamantla.
    On the morning of the 9th of October the people of Huamantla were startled and dismayed to behold the formidable and glittering array spread out over the neighboring hills. White flags were immediately hung out in token of submission, and the place seemed to have surrendered without a blow from its panic-stricken inhabitants. But suddenly the advanced guard, under Capt. Walker, having entered the town, was assailed on every side by volleys of musketry. He immediately ordered a charge upon a body of 500 lancers, stationed with two pieces of artillery in the plaza. A furious and deadly combat ensued. Gen. Lane, advancing at the head of his column, encountered the heavy reinforcement ordered up by Santa Anna, who had now arrived with his whole force. Soon the roar of battle resounded through every street, and street and plaza were reddened with blood and covered with heaps of the slain. The Mexicans, for a short time, combated their assailants with the energy and fury of despair. But the steady and well-directed valor of the soldiers of the “republic of the north” bore down all opposition. The Mexican ranks were broken and thrown into disorder; the order to retreat was given, and the American flag waved in triumph over the treacherous city of Huamantla.
    This was the last field on which Santa Anna appeared in arms against the United States. This remarkable man, universally acknowledged to be an able and active, was never a successful commander. Whether this want of success is to be ascribed to the superior generalship of the leaders, and prowess of the troops opposed to him, or to his own instability of purpose in the very crisis of battle, when vigor and decision are most required, we will not stop to inquire. Having, during the progress of the war, collected several large armies, and led them to defeat, he had determined with that which remained to him to make a last effort to retrieve his fortunes, and Huamantla was chosen as the Waterloo where his waning star should shine out in cloudless effulgence, or sink to rise no more. If he did not encounter a Wellington on that field, he encountered one who, with Wellington’s courage, united many of the higher qualities of a military commander. Perhaps he relied upon Gen. Lane’s want of experience, but the courage and conduct of the latter at Buena Vista should have admonished him of the hopelessness of a contest in an open and equal field with such an officer, at the head of troops comparatively fresh, in high spirits, with full confidence in the skill and courage of their leader, and burning to rival the heroic deeds of their countrymen at Chapultepec and Cerro Gordo. Although Santa Anna from this time withdrew from an active participation in the contest between the belligerent nations, the bloody drama in which he had played so conspicuous a part was not yet closed. Much remained to be done to complete the conquest so auspiciously begun on the banks of the Rio Grande, and prosecuted with such vigor by Scott in the valley of Mexico. Many bloody fields were yet to be won; many desperate bands of guerrillas yet to be defeated and dispersed to render the subjugation of the country complete.
    Defeated at Huamantla, the remnant of the Mexican force fell back on Atlixco, where, on the 18th of October, a large body, with munitions and supplies, and two pieces of artillery, were collected, under the orders of Gen. Rea. General Lane, hearing of the concentration of the enemy’s troops at that point, hastened with the small force at his disposal to attack them. After a long and fatiguing march on a hot and sultry day, he encountered the enemy strongly posted on a hillside, within 1½ miles from Atlixco. The Mexicans made a show of desperate resistance, but being vigorously assaulted by the cavalry, closely followed by the entire column, they gave way and fled in confusion towards the town. It was not until after nightfall that the whole command of Gen. Lane reached Atlixco, having marched ten Spanish leagues since eleven o’clock in the forenoon. Disposing his troops in such manner as to command the approaches by the main roads, he opened a vigorous cannonade from a height which commanded the town. The guerrillas, however, had fled, and the authorities having soon after surrendered the place into his hands, his wearied troops entered the town and sought the repose they so much needed.
    It is impossible, within the limited space allotted to this sketch, to present a detailed account of all Gen. Lane’s military operations at this period. In authentic histories of the war and official documents filed in the archives of government, the reader will find the record of his achievements--his long and toilsome marches by night and by day over a wild and rugged country, full of narrow defiles and dangerous passes; his frequent surprises of the enemy; his sudden incursions far away into remote valley and plain; his fierce combats and glorious victories. At Tlaxcala, Matamoros, Galaxa, Tulaucingo, Zacualtipan, as at Huamantla and Atlixco, Mexican valor yielded to the force of his impetuous and well-directed assaults. On every field the ranks of the enemy went down before the thundering charge of his cavalry, the fierce onset of his resistless infantry. The fame of his achievements soon spread through Mexico, and the terror with which the enemy was inspired by his death-dealing blows and almost ubiquitous presence was equaled only by the unbounded confidence and enthusiasm infused into his followers by his gallant bearing, and the prestige of a name ever relied on by them as the sure guarantee of victory. For one quality as much as any other, perhaps more than even his dauntless courage, Gen. Lane was distinguished throughout the war--humanity to the vanquished. His bright fame was unsullied, his escutcheon untarnished by a single act of wanton outrage or cruelty during the whole time he bore a commission in the American army. When the fight was over, and the victory won, the field of carnage where a short time before foeman had met foeman in deadly conflict, presented the spectacle of stern and swarthy warriors, imbued with the humane spirit of their leader, bending over the heaps of the dying and the dead, selecting now a friend, and now a foe, from whom the vital spark had not yet fled, staunching his wounds, and if the sufferer had not yet passed beyond the power of human aid to save, restoring him by their kind ministrations to life and health, family, home and friends. An officer thus distinguished for courage and humanity; unyielding fortitude under the severest privations; an originality and promptness in the formation of his plans, surpassed only by the boldness and rapidity of their execution; a celerity of movement which annihilated time and distance; with a power of endurance that defied hunger and thirst, heat and cold--such an officer, never for a moment relaxing his exertions, and daily adding some new name to the list of his conquests, could not fail to attract the attention and excite the admiration of the army, and win the approbation and applause of his countrymen in all parts of the United States. There was a tinge of romance in his exploits, which possessed an irresistible attraction, and captivated the imagination of all classes of admirers. But imagination has had little to do with the final judgment which his countrymen have pronounced upon his conduct. The parallel placed at the time between his deeds and character, and those of an illustrious hero of the Revolution, suggested to his countrymen a suitable way of testifying their appreciation of his services and admiration of his character; and they have, with a unanimity which shows that the parallel is not altogether imaginary, bestowed upon him a title, prouder than any ever conferred by a patent of nobility from prince or potentate--the title of “The Marion of the Mexican War.”
    On the 10th of March, 1848, the treaty of peace between the United States and Mexico was ratified by the Senate. General Lane remained some months in Mexico after peace was concluded, directing the movements, and superintending the embarkation of troops returning home.
    Returning to the United States in July, a few days after he reached home, he was appointed by President Polk Governor of the Territory of Oregon. This appointment, entirely unsolicited, Gen. Lane, against the wishes of many of his friends, concluded to accept; and, having made the necessary preparations, started across the plains in September, with an escort of twenty men. After a journey across the plains and mountains, full of peril and hardship, he arrived in Oregon in March, 1849, and immediately organized the territorial government.
    Of the ability with which he performed the duties of Governor, no better testimony could be given than is furnished by the fact that, when superseded by Gov. Gaines on the accession of Gen. Taylor to the Presidency, he was elected by the people of Oregon delegate in Congress, a position in which he has remained to the present time.
    The military career of Gen. Lane did not close with the termination of hostilities between the United States and Mexico. In Oregon he was destined to add other laurels to those already won. The Indians of that territory gave the whites much trouble, destroying lives and property, and thereby greatly impeding the progress, and retarding the settlement of the country. In 1853 occurred a formidable outbreak on Rogue River in the southern part of Oregon. Gen. Lane immediately collected a force, composed of settlers, miners, and a few officers and soldiers of the regular army, attacked the Indians near Table Rock, and after a desperate conflict in which he was severely wounded, drove them from their position. Following up this success with great vigor, he administered such chastisement that they soon gave up the contest, and were glad to accede to any terms of peace.
    An extended biography of Gen. Lane, if ever written, will present many interesting incidents in his career, necessarily excluded from this brief sketch. But enough is here narrated to serve the purpose with which we set out, which was to present him as an exemplification of the simplicity and vigor of our democratic institutions.
    To Oregon we extend our congratulations that she has in the national councils a guardian of her interests so watchful and faithful and true to [this] high and honorable trust. We congratulate her that though so remote, there are many ties that bind her to the rest of the Republic, not the least of which is the pure character and well-earned fame of her honored delegate.


H. H. Bancroft Esqr.
My Dear Sir
    Enclosed you will find some notes, written by myself. You can rely upon their accuracy. They are not as full as they might be, but as far as they go they are true. I hate writing; my fingers cramp, and I have not been able to get anyone to write for me. My boy, L. F., is all the time busy in court. I will, however, try to write some further notes and send in manuscript.
    Kind regards to Mrs. Bancroft and yourself. No one that has heretofore written of the subject seems to know how my brigade managed to get to Scott's line.
                                            Joseph Lane

    You will recollect that in my note of the last trouble that we had with the Rogue River Indians, the war of 1853, I said that I had neither time nor inclination then to go back and give a history of the trouble we had with these Indians in 1850. The facts are as follows.
    In the spring of 1850 some miners, who had been to the gold fields in California, and after many months of hard work had concluded to return to their families in Oregon; they had had good success and each one of them had quite a considerable amount of dust with them; all went well with them until they reached Rogue River. Night set in about the time they reached Rock Point, where they camped for the night, and though they were acquainted with the very treacherous and thievish habits of the Indians, failed to keep out as sharp a watch as they ought to. The consequence was that the Indians made a sudden attack, drove the party who seized their arms and run to the brush where they would have some show of defending themselves. The Indians wanted the plunder more than they did the lives of the party, so they rushed into the camp, gathered up the plunder including the sacks containing the gold dust of the whole party, except one man. He had his sack tied around him and brought it safe to his home in the Willamette Valley. The Indians left the camp as suddenly as they had made the attack, but took with them everything that was valuable. Well, very soon after the party reached their homes they called to see me, made known the facts and requested that I would take such steps as I thought best to recover their lost treasure; at the time it was impossible for me to leave my office, but told them that as soon as I could I would go and see the Indians and try and recover the gold. In the month of June I made up a party of some twelve or fifteen white men and as many Klickitat Indians under their great chief Quatley who had all his life been the enemy of the Rogue River Indians. I told him that my object was to invite the chiefs and their warriors to a talk for the purpose of making a treaty and in the meantime to get them to give up the gold dust taken from the miners above mentioned. Well, said he, you will have to be very cautious, for the Rogue River Indians are very bad and would take advantage of our small party if they could.
    Our party were well mounted and took along several pack animals loaded with supplies and some cheap presents for the Indians. We got along slowly but did not stop to hunt for fresh meat till we arrived at Grave Creek; there we took a day to hunt and make meat for the balance of the trip. Quatley and some 8 or ten of his Indians, myself and some of my party set out early in the morning. I had the good fortune to kill two very fine deer within a mile of our camp; and soon brought them in and had them cut up and placed on a scaffold over a brisk fire for the purpose of drying or, as hunters say, making jerked venison. In the course of the day the hunters come in bringing some thirty deer and some elk meat and one or two bears; by the evening of the next day we had the meat all jerked and sacked, ready to go the next morning, and in a few days reached a point on Rogue River near the Indian villages. I got to see their head chief, told him that I wished to have a talk with him and his subordinate chiefs and make a treaty of peace, so that we could be friends and not enemies as heretofore. The next day he told me that in two days he would come and bring all his people that all could see and hear all that was said and all that should be agreed upon. But I made him understand that his warriors must not bring their arms, that I come to talk and make peace with them, not to fight. On the morning of the day appointed they began to come in; they had the river to cross, but they had canoes. We were on the south bank, having crossed the river some fifteen miles below, and the Indians crossed from the bank opposite to the place agreed upon to hold the treaty. Some seventy-five or a hundred of them, with the two principal chiefs, had arrived and were told to be seated and listen to the talk I was about to have with their chiefs. They accordingly sat down in a half circle; the other half was occupied by our own people. The two chiefs were standing near me. Just then a party of about seventy-five warriors come marching down on our side of the river all armed with bows and arrows except some twenty, who carried guns in their hands. I spoke to Quatley to come with two or three of his men inside the ring and stand near the great chief, known as Captain Jo or Chief Jo, and by that name was known in peace and war and in council and in signing treaties. Old Chief Jo figured largely for three years after the incidents of this memorable day. Well, as the party of treacherous scoundrels came up they were ordered to lay down their arms and be seated. I took a good look at the newcomers and then looked quick at Quatley; he caught my eye and motioned his head. I saw that he understood me, and then I gave a look at my men, saw that they were all right and commenced my talk and had every sentence interpreted, took care to travel all over the ground, told them of all the outrages perpetrated on our people, that they must give up all property stolen, since the laws of the U.S. had been extended over the Territory, and especially the sacks of gold taken from the party of miners only six weeks ago, that then we would protect them in all their rights, as long as they would keep good faith, that our people must pass and repass through their country in peace and safety. All this was made known to the chiefs and warriors. Then Jo spoke slowly and in a loud voice, stepped forward a step or two, and so did Quatley. The other chief, since known as Chief Sam, had taken a seat among his people. Jo did not talk long, and just as he concluded his wawa ["talk"], as quick as thought the whole of his party sprang to their feet [and] gave a keen yell. Jo made a quick jump towards his people, but Quatley caught him; his men laid hold also, but every Indian that had arms had them at aim in an instant. I called to Quatley to hold the chief and to our men not to fire till ordered, and with six-shooter in hand I sprung into their line, knocked up their guns and ordered them to be seated. They hesitated. One fellow was still at aim when I struck down his gun and ordered him to sit down. They saw their great chief was a prisoner and that Quatley held a big knife at his throat, and Jo ordered his warriors to quick lay down their arms. They did so promptly, but after a very short consultation they raised to their feet. Jo told them to go and come back in a good humor in two days. They moved off and left their great chief a prisoner in our hands, and we took good care to secure him so that he could not get away.
    We treated our prisoner with much kindness, and I had a full and free talk with him in regard to the welfare of himself and his people; made him understand that outrages upon our people would lead to a war that would leave him no country, no warriors, and that the only hope for him was to agree with us upon a treaty of peace that would secure to our people the right to pass to and from unmolested, and the right to mine and settle in the Rogue River Valley. That their rights should be secured to him and an Agent would be located among them, and annually they should receive presents to the amount agreed upon. By the time the tribe again assembled, Chief Jo was prepared to advise his people to listen to the terms offered and to accept them and live in peace.
    I should have mentioned before this of a striking evidence of conjugal affection manifested the morning after Jo had been made a prisoner; his old squaw, his first wife (he had several others, but as he said only loved his first wife), come very cautiously to the bank on the opposite side of the river, and asked if she might come over and stay with the chief; that she did not want to be free while he was a prisoner. She was told to come and stay, that she would be well and kindly treated. She come and remained till a peace was concluded and was well rewarded in the way of presents and kind treatment. She was a squaw of more than ordinary intelligence and exercised considerable influence among her people. A little more than one year after this time she and 36 other women and children fell into our hands as prisoners at an attack made upon their camp by Maj. Kearny of the U.S. army and myself with a few volunteers soon after Lt. Stuart had been killed. That was in the summer of 1851. But her old husband Chief [Jo] did not come to stay with her, and Maj. Kearny concluded to take them to California but did not, an account of which you will find in printed notes now in your possession.
    The following is the history of the names given to the old chief and others of his tribe. Soon after the wife of the old chief had voluntarily joined him in captivity, he asked our interpreter the name of the white chief and requested me to come to him. He wanted to talk. As I walked up to him, he said in Chinook, which I understood, "Mika name Jo Lane." I told him "Now witka," meaning "yes," and he said, "I want you to give me your name for," said he, "I have seen no man like you." The interpreter made known this request. I told him to say to the chief that I would give him half my name but not all, that he should be named Jo. He was much pleased, and from that day till the day of his death he was known by that name. At his request I named his wife, gave her the name of Sally. She was naturally a good Indian and did all she could to prevent war. It was her that at the battle of August '53 and after I had received a very severe wound and at the request of the Indians had gone alone among them to hold a talk, said to me in their tongue, "You are badly hurt. You want water?" And with a small kettle in her hand ran to the spring and brought it full of cold water, for which I felt very thankful, for never before had I felt so thirsty, and I was very much benefited by it. They had a son and daughter, a lad of 14 and girl of about sixteen. She was quite a young queen in her manner and bearing, and for an Indian very pretty. The boy was by me at the chief's request named Ben, and [the] girl was named Mary. I shall have hereafter occasion to speak of Mary in connection with the war and treaty of 1853 not given in the notes forwarded to me some time ago.
    The Indians under the head of Chief Sam come in as directed by Jo when they left two days ago, and a treaty [of] peace and good will was entered into and some property of little value stolen by them from our people was given up. But of the gold dust none was returned, nor could we learn from [them] anything certain. They, however, said that they did not know that the dust was of any value, that they had emptied the sacks on a point of rocks that lay at the opposite bank of the river, out of water only at low water mark. Our failure to recover the gold was a great disappointment to the parties concerned and worried me. But we did all we could and failed. This treaty was observed for nearly one year. When the war broke out by outrages upon our people perpetrated by Jo's tribe, in which was Major Kearny figured.
    Here ended my official services as governor and ex-officio superintendent of Indian affairs. I had been removed by the President to make room for Major Gaines of Ky., who was now expected soon to arrive and enter upon the duties of the office. Before leaving Oregon City, then the seat of the territorial government, I had arranged my office, books, papers and everything in proper order and directed the Secretary of the Territory upon the arrival of Gov. Gaines to turn them over and take a receipt for them.
    The treaty, the best we [could] get, having been completed and having no further use for Quatley and his small band of Klickitats, they were directed to return to their home. I took leave of them, and they set out on their return, and I made preparations to go to California and try my fortune in the gold mines. Before leaving the Rogue River Indians Chief Jo said that he wanted to give to me a small boy, a captive taken in war with the Modoc Indians, that the boy was a Modoc and could take care of camp and drive up my horses when required. [The boy's story is retold in an account at the bottom of this page.] I told him that I had no horse for him to ride. "Well," said he, "I will give the boy a horse to ride if you will take him." Well, I told him to bring up the boy and horse. The boy was brought. I judged him to be about eleven or twelve years old and was the most pitiable object that I ever saw. He was as naked as he was at his birth and had been beaten and nearly starved to death. I at once said that I would take and clothe and feed him and save him from torture that was worse than death. I had him go to the river and take a bath. He could swim like a duck. He washed himself thoroughly, but I had no clothes to fit him but had plenty of woolen shirts, and the weather was quite warm. I put a new clean shirt on him and a handkerchief to tie on his head and then gave him something to eat; bread, meat and coffee. I noticed that he was very much pleased and proud of his shirt and handkerchief and noticed that he could hear well and quick and understood by signs and was very ready to go or come as one would indicate by signs or motions but I had not the slightest idea that he could not, nor never had talked or said a word, but such proved to be the fact. I had an Indian boy with me as cook and waiter; he could speak English in a few weeks. He found out that my pet boy could not speak or talk or would not. I had named my pet boy John. The first night out from our way to California after supper, and I took good care to see that John had a good supper, I gave to him two blankets, and when I lay down he placed his blankets at my feet and slept soundly, and from that day forward he kept always near me and every night slept at my feet, and after he got flesh on him he become strong and was very active and could run like a streak, fleeter than any boy I ever saw and was as faithful a servant as ever any man had, or saw. In my next notes I will tell you how this dumb boy saved the life of a Mr. Driscoll and how he without any kind of question saved the life of your friend,
                                                                                        Joseph Lane.
To H. H. Bancroft, Esqr.
    San Francisco
        California

    In two days after we left our Rogue River encampment we reached Shasta River, and on a rocky bar on the south bank not far from the spot where the town of Yreka now stands we found gold in paying quantity, and I believe that we were the first discoverers of gold in that region of country, but the Indians were numerous and warlike. [James A. Cardwell's party rediscovered the Yreka diggings on March 12, 1851.] Our party was small, and we were in constant danger of losing our stock. It was now in July 1850, so we concluded to go on to Redding's diggings at and near where the town of Shasta now stands. John Kelley, now Collector of Customs at Portland, and Thomas Brown, now a good farmer of this Douglas County, and Martin Angel, [later] killed by Indians, who owned between them a band of cattle that they were driving to the mines in that locality, were with us and had been from the Willamette Valley. In some ten days or two weeks we arrived at the diggings, and I with a party of three white men and my Indian boy John, including Sam. Simondson, son of Genl. Simondson, U.S. Army, a very good young man, brave as anyone, commenced our mining operations and while working at the mouth of Clear Creek and near the Sacramento River and not finding gold as fast as we desired and though we had found that the Pit River Indians were great thieves and murderers. There were several other parties at work near us, all together fifteen or twenty men, quite enough with proper organization to have made the camp quite secure, yet these sly, thieving Indians crawled into camp one night and actually stole the blankets off some of the miners and though I kept a guard of one man on duty all the time, regularly relieved so as to give all a fair share of duty, stole our best horse tied at the head of my bed made on the ground, by spreading down a blanket or two and placing my saddle at the head for a pillow, and not fifty yards from us an Indian sent an arrow into a miner because he happened to be rolled in his blanket so that he could not pull it from him. The miner received a very bad and dangerous wound, but got over it after long suffering. The party had a good canoe that was kept fastened to the bank. I had several times crossed to the east bank to prospect for gold. I always went well armed and took my pet John with me at all times wherever I went. He was now well clothed, and I found him very smart, quick to hear, and would see anything that moved or leaf that stirred, or would even where the ground was covered with leaves detect the track of an Indian or any other animal that had disturbed a leaf on the ground and motion to me until he would follow the trail, directly he would motion to come. He had found the print of the foot on the ground where leaves ceased to cover it, a moccasin track, a bear, or deer as the case might be. This day we found a rich gulch about three hundred yards from the river. The day following I crossed and took with Mr. Driscoll and John, and some sacks to pack our rich dirt to the river, where we would wash it in a rocker, then the common mode of washing gold. We commenced in the gulch with our picks, and after filling about as much dirt in each sack as a man could pack, while digging we found many pieces of gold from fifty cents up to two- or three-dollar lumps. Driscoll was delighted, and with his pick and tin cup in which he had put all that he had picked, said he would [go] further up the gulch if I would let John go with him and prospect. "Well," I said, "go, but not too far, nor stay long." The brush was very thick, and they were soon out of sight. I was tired and I took up my six-shooter and hunting knife and belted them round me, took my rifle in hand and set down on the bank of the gulch to wait their return. I had set perhaps a half hour when John come running like lightning, motioning me to go, go, quick. Indians had Driscoll, and by me he went like a streak. I took up the gulch as fast as I could run, and then I was strong and active and I thought equal to ever so many Indians. About two hundred yards up the gulch I found Driscoll in the hands of a dozen of the Pit River Indians, and they were as bad-looking [a] set of savage cutthroats as I had met anywhere. They had sprung upon Driscoll before he knew of their presence, had tied his hands hard behind him and were trying to drag him through the thick brush, but the poor fellow was so frightened he couldn't go or step or move. Never before or since have I seen anyone so sadly frightened. He was scared so that he could not speak or move. The moment that I saw them I called out to them in Chinook to clatawa (to go), and before they recovered from their surprise at my coming I had jerked out my big knife and cut the cord that bound Driscoll and told him to take my knife and fight for life, but he could not move but fell down in a swoon. Then I dropped my rifle to my shoulder ready to fire and held my six-shooter in my hand, rifle resting on it and in a loud voice ordered them to leave. They moved back and commenced a flank movement intending to get in my rear. They had bows and arrows, and intended to shoot me in the back. Then I was determined to commence the battle. With my gun to my face I again in a strong voice ordered them as the last warning to leave, then I intend to drop one of them and with my six-shooter fight my way out, but thanks to my boy John he had jumped into the canoe, crossed the narrow stream and was near me as I ordered them off for the last time, and the whole party yelled out "Help at hand!" and in one minute the Indians were gone. I think I could have shot one as they darted into the thick brush but did not, and I have been sorry for it ever since, but it was all as quick as thought. John had run on at full speed after motioning me on to Driscoll and no doubt the little party were crossing the river to my support by the time I had reached Driscoll. Well, we took to the river and to camp before I could realize that he was safe. John's quick and prompt action had brought help just in time to save Driscoll. I think that I could have fought my way out, but would have been compelled to [abandon] poor Driscoll, and these Indians were barbarous and generally burned their prisoners. Driscoll never crossed the river to mine after that day.
    Not long after this, in company with Martin Angel and some others, we encamped in the Sacramento Valley some four miles from our mining camp. The grass was two or three feet high. We staked our horses, spread down our blankets, posted out a trusty sentinel and lay down to sleep. In two hours, Angel was to be waked up and go on duty. By that time the moon had got up, an hour high. I got up to look and listen. I saw Angel go towards the river and sit down in the grass, and noticed that he was completely hid by the grass. I lay down; all was quiet and I had dropped into a nice sleep. When the crack of Angel's rifle woke all [of] the party and every man had his rifle in his hand in an instant when Angel called out, "I have got him," and sure enough he had. He saw 3 of them rise up out of the grass and then drop down. He had his gun ready at cock. The next time they raised up [with]in twenty yards of him and he fired, and down come the Indian. He gave him a dead center shot. He was as dead as a hammer when we got to him. At the crack of the rifle the other two took to the river and were on the other bank in very short time. Angel was lucky in killing Indians. In our wars with the Rogue River Indians he killed several of them, but in the war of 1855-6 he was killed by them near Jacksonville. He was leading a party to where the Indians were supposed to be. They knew him and were determined to kill him; consequently had placed themselves on each side of the trail, and as was Angel's custom he was well in front. From both sides of the road they fired. As he fell from his horse, they caught and scalped him before the party got to where he fell. Thus fell one of Oregon's early and useful citizens. Republics are not always ungrateful. Angel left a widow and a son, then quite young. He is now an educated, clever young gentleman, resides at Albany, and this year ('78) was elected by the state's Senate Assistant Sgt. at Arms of that very respectable body.
    In September of this year, 1850, I concluded to take a trip up the Sacramento and prospect for gold with my little party; set out. On the way and not far above the mouth of the Pit River fell in with or rather came across a marauding party of Indians, had a skirmish, killed one of the Pit River scoundrels dead on the spot and had one man wounded, but not dangerously. This was the last trouble we had with these bad Indians.
    Finding no gold in paying quantity, we returned to the Redding diggings where we mined on Olney and Tadpole and Spring creeks with varied success until February 1851.
    I will here give an incident indicative of Indian character that occurred while I was mining in the Redding diggings. I had come in from work to our dinner and found an Indian known as Umpqua Jim. Some one of the traders located there had let him have a chunk bottle full of whiskey--he was naturally a vicious bad Indian, and he come to my camp and set down. His bottle was then about half full and he was half drunk and was threatening to kill anyone that disturbed him. He could speak some English and was very abusive. I noticed his bottle sitting at the corner of the tent. I picked it up and held it by the neck, bottom up, and let the whiskey run out. Jim noticed it and jerked from the scabbard his long butcher knife and dashed at me. There was no chance of escape. I changed the bottle in my hand and held it firmly by the neck and as he made a lunge that would have driven through anyone, I stepped aside and with my whole strength struck him on the head. He threw up his left hand on his head to catch the blow. The stroke mashed the ends of his middle fingers and knock[ed] him apparently as dead as a hammer. I looked at him. He appeared to be dead. We eat our dinner and I said we will bury Jim and go to work. John come in and motioned that Jim was breathing and he was. The next day I saw him and told him to leave, or I would shoot him, and he did. I met him five years after, but he was shy to talk.
    Then we set out for Scott River, where as report had it, gold was being found in fabulous quantity and in fact the Scott River diggings had been and were then very rich. As soon as we arrived we located claims and commenced work. Before we left Redding's diggins I had met with a couple of old Indians, an old man and his squaw, who lived at Oregon City and with whom I was acquainted. They were very inoffensive and had been taken to these mines by Mr. Ingle of Oregon City, a very energetic miner and good man, long since dead. The old couple had got tired of the mines and come to me to see if I would take them back with me when I returned. The old squaw was a neat and good cook and good laundress, and I agreed to take them and pay them sixty dollars a month, the squaw to cook and wash, the man to take care of our horses and get wood and assist about camp. Not many days after we had pitched our tents and got fairly to work, and by this time my boy John had become a very successful miner. His eyes were very sharp; he was able to pick up at least half the gold that was in the dirt that he picked up. When I worked he worked constantly and hard, but at all times when I quit to go to attend to any business, I had John quit and go with me. Thus one day I said to the men who were tired and wanting dinner that I would go to camp, distant about four hundred yards, and see what it was that delayed dinner. The horn was blowed promptly every day at half past 12. When we arrived at the camp, we found that a party of fifteen Shasta Indians had taken possession of our tent, dinner and all, and had butchered a deer that they had killed nearby at the door of the tent and were trying to make old Emma bake more bread and cook the deer for them.
    Well, you know that I was not in a good humor at the state of things as presented to my view. Without taking time to consider what was best to do, I walked into the tent and with rifle cocked I ordered them to leave. But they were inclined to stay, and I undertook to force them and with the rifle punched several of them as hard as I could drive the muzzle of the gun against them, holding my hand firmly on the hammer of the lock that the gun could not by the jar go off but ready to fire if forced to. The whole band sprung out and picked up their guns and surrounded the tent, three of them in front with guns at aim. I was at aim and determined to kill one at least. But the old squaw rushed among them and begged and kept up such pleading and catching their guns and crying that neither party could flee without hitting old Emma. John, on seeing the state of things, had slipped out at the back of the tent and at the speed of an antelope had reached the diggings and now come John and the men with six-shooters in hand and raised the yell. The Indians saw their hope of murder had gone by, and they walked off. They had three to our one; consequently, we let them go. This was the second time John brought help when I very much needed it. A few minutes later and the faithful old squaw would [have] witnessed a very unequal fight in which your humble servt. would perhaps come out second best. I still feel grateful to John and poor old Emma, both of them long since dead. Poor John, if I could have stayed with him and lived in the woods he perhaps would be living now. He was as faithful and devoted to me as ever was boy to man. He never talked, never spoke, but he learned to know every word I said and was always ready to obey my every command or wish.
    In May 1851 I returned to Oregon City, my John and old Indians with me. In June I was elected to Congress. In July I left for the East via San Francisco, Panama, New Orleans and then by river steamer to my door on [the] bank of the beautiful Ohio River, where I joined my family after an absence of more than three years. Our good steamer stopped at Cuba, Havana to coal. It was on Saturday. On Sunday morning while we were still coaling Lopez was garroted; no other incident of interest on my home voyage, and that was a painful sight.
    But to return to poor Indian boy John. I left him in the care of my son Nat H. Lane, who then had charge of the Island Mills, Oregon City (then we owned them). John was not willing to go with me by sea, could not persuade him, so I left him with Nat H., who took deep interest in him. He was dressed, lodged and boarded like the finest gentleman. But soon after I left he began to fail in health, and in a few months after took down sick. Doctors and kindness could not save him; poor boy lies buried near Oregon City.
    I will here give you an account of his notion of truth and friendship as related to me by my son. John took a fancy to the head miller and felt strong friendship for him. This man was in the habit of spending one or two evenings a week in the city, would drink freely and gamble for liquor. The boy observed it, and every time the miller would go John would follow. There was a long bridge from the Island Mills to the main shore, and John it seems was afraid that when the man was drunk he might stagger and fall off into the river and be drowned. Well, the boy would follow and wait patiently until the miller would get through drinking and then keep close to him, till safe on the island, then John would go to his room and to his bed. One night the miller thought he would play a joke on John. He left the saloon apparently very drunk, staggered and nearly fell very often, and on the bridge it was all John could do to hold him from falling over and John thought into certain death, as it would have been had he fell over or off the bridge. John was delighted when he saw the miller safe over. The miller, however, was determined to have his joke on the poor boy, straightened himself up, walked straight off and turned to John, broke out in a big laugh and said, "What a fool you are to think me drunk."
    From [no] time as my son told me to to the day of the boy's death would he go near that man, or in any way have anything to do with, or for him. The man often tried to hire him to forgive him, offered him presents, but the boy would turn from and would not look at him, nor did he ever notice him again. Poor boy, I thought very much of him, and was very sorry when I heard of his death.
    The next notes will give an account of information given by the young squaw Mary and the good results of the information. Do you want such notes? If not, say so. I am very tired writing.
    The notes furnished are poorly given, but true. To make good history will require much labor. Mrs. Victor will have a hard task if she writes [it] up.
                                Very Respectfully,
                                        Jos. Lane

                    Roseburg Oregon
                    Nov. 12 1878.
H. H. Bancroft Esqr.
    Dear Sir,
    Your note of the 4th inst. was received on Saturday the 9th. Today I mail to your address twelve pages giving a truthful account of our troubles with the Rogue River Indians in the year 1850, written by myself. The incidents are given in a clumsy and awkward way, without regard to correct spelling, grammar, punctuation or anything else but the facts of incidents as they occurred. It is impossible to obtain help; my son is very busy and besides takes, or rather feels, but very little interest in the matter, and my old crippled arm and lame fingers work slowly and with some pain. But now I have started at the work I intend to go ahead until I have finished up my mining tour and show how my dumb Indian boy saved the life of Driscoll and after how he saved the life of your humble srvt. and then I will complete the incidents of the treaty of 1853 and other incidents in which Mary disclosed important information which led to the punishment of a guilty party and the happy effect upon both whites and Indians, and my very hazardous action in the matter. You must let me know how much of these incidents you wish me to furnish, and whether you wish my kind of history of organizing the territorial govt., starting all the machinery in operation of the easy and quiet, but prompt, manner of doing and success in starting and carrying on &c.
    Kind regards to your wife and to Mrs. Victor,
                    Very truly,
                            Jos. Lane
    I have just recd. a note from Mrs. Victor and have answered and told her I was indebted to her for the enquiry I make of you in the latter part of this note as above. Now tell me, did I or not give the information in our reported talk in Portland? See if you have it not.

To H. H. Bancroft Esqr.
        San Francisco California
    The following notes relate to affairs that took place after our treaty with Rogue River Indians in the year 1853.
    Partly on account of the severe wound received in battle and partly for the purpose of watching and taking care of the Indians to the end that no further new trouble should take place, I remained in camp on the bank of Rogue River some two or three weeks longer than otherwise I would have done. Old Jo had given up to my care his only son, "Ben," as a hostage for their good behavior. In order to be near his son, of whom he was very fond, the old chief obtained our permission to bring his family inside our lines, that he at times could see and talk to his boy. The sentinel at all times on duty was instructed to allow him or anyone of his family to come to my quarters, which were in a log cabin where Ben was kept and where he slept of nights. Myself and staff also had our beds [there]. I slept on some blankets spread on the ground, there being no floor in the cabin. About the middle of one night, and while lying awake, suffering with my wounded shoulder, I felt something touch my feet and directly I felt again the touch and raised myself to a sitting position and saw in the dark an object drawn down in a kneeling position, and asked who was there. I found it was Mary. She spoke low and told me that she had come to talk to me and did not want to be heard by anyone but myself. She spoke in Chinook and I understood it quite well. She wanted to tell me, she said, how the late bloody war broke out, and who it was that caused all the trouble, and who it was that commenced the massacre of families in the valley and how her people became involved in the war. "Well," I told her, "go on"; I would listen and try and remember all she would tell me. Then she inquired if I was acquainted with the great war chief Tipsy of the Shasta Indians. I told her yes; I had met him once and had had a friendly talk with him and his warriors. "Well," said she, "do you know Pe-ous-icut, one of his braves?" I said, "No," I did not know any Indian by that name. She replied quickly, "Miker tickie miker comtix Peousicut." That is, "I want you to know him," and went on to say that he is a very bad Indian and it was him and his chief that made all the late trouble. Peousicut commenced it and got his chief and people to join him.
    Just at this point of her narrative one of the officers wakened and asked the time of night, and Mary, who was as timid as a fawn, slipped out and I saw no more of her till the next night, but I thought of what she had said and had the name Peousicut in my mind nearly all the time. But said not a word to anyone on that subject. Late in the night I again felt the touch upon my feet, raised up and there crouched down at my feet was Mary. She commenced her story where she had left off the night before and told me all about the beginning of the murders perpetrated on our people then living at and near where Jacksonville now stands. Indeed, Jacksonville was then a village of several families, and several families were then living in the valley and felt quite secure. Mary went on to tell me that this Peousicut had had a falling out with a Mexican, a gambler, then hanging about the camps of the miners in the day and dealing monte at night. Peousicut had sold a squaw to this worthless wretch and afterwards he refused to pay the price agreed upon, whereupon they come near having a row that would in all probability have ended in the death of the worthless Mexican, and but for the interference of some miners would so have ended. The Mexican put out and Peousicut was left unpaid. He regarded the Mexican as one of our people and was naturally [a] very bad Indian. Consequently [he] hurried off to his band, then camped nearby, where they had come, as Mary said, to trade with her people for deer skins and furs and ponies, and told his chief Tipsy that he had been badly treated by one of the Boston people, as all Americans were then called by the Indians, and that he must have satisfaction, and succeeded in persuading the chief to lead his band against the scattered and defenseless families.
    [Of] this, as Mary said, her chief and his people knew nothing. If Peousicut's chief had made the attack as advised by this bad Indian, the settlement would have been swept out of existence, but their treacherous plan was discovered before very many of our people had been murdered, but as soon as the outbreak had been discovered and the brave few who had their arms always ready joined to protect the families, Tipsy rushed with his band to Jo's camp and said the whites had commenced war and all of the Indians would be killed if they did not band together and fight for their lives and their homes. Old Jo could not understand this and said that he had done nothing to make the white people mad and could not see why he should fight and proposed to go to Jacksonville and have a talk with the whites, but his young men and old Tipsy opposed the proposition and in the meantime from his camp he could see mounted men scouring the valley below, so he concluded to take Tipsy's advice and fall back to their mountain fastnesses and wait and see how affairs would terminate and, said Mary, Tipsy and his band was with our people when the battle was fought where you got the wound that hurts you so much now and would have shot you when you come to us to hold a talk. But our chiefs would not let them and they slipped off in the brush, not one of them come out and surrendered themselves as prisoners, as did our people, and now, said she, they are somewhere in the Siskiyou Mountains safe from harm while our people have been prisoners and have agreed to give up our country that was dear to us and I tell you, we did not commence this war. Peousicut did it. Now can't you go and destroy Peousicut and all Tipsy's band? I told her that I was not in a very good condition to lead an expedition and besides that the most of my men had been mustered out of service and had gone to their homes. But I told her to consult with her father (the old chief) about sending out one of his trusty young men to find out where Tipsy and his band were encamped and what route I would have to go to find them. In the meantime I had a talk with one of our captains, told him I thought that there was a chance for him to strike a blow that would if successful result in much good. "Well," said he, "who shall I strike and what direction will I have to go?" I said perhaps Tipsy could be found. He discussed the chances and finally said, "Well, I would rather not undertake the job until you are able to lead, then with pleasure," said he, "I will go." The subject was then dropped, and I at once resolved on the course I would pursue. The second night after I had last had a talk with Mary, she again come to my quarters quietly as before and told me that the young brave [that chief Jo had sent] had come, had seen and talked with Tipsy and Peousicut, that they were then at a place designated by him, at the foot of a spur of the Siskiyou Mountains, some twenty-five miles from our camp.
    Now I had with me a Mr. Robert B. Metcalfe, an intelligent young man, brave and truthful, who had for several years lived with a portion of Tipsy's tribe, was well acquainted with them and spoke their tongue or language as well as they did. I consulted him and proposed that we would go and find Tipsy and make a treaty with him, but did not say a word about Peousicut, and said, "Are you willing to go?" "Well," said he, "if you are willing for us two to go, I will go and risk it. But," said he, "it is indeed a risk. We can find them, but," said he, "to get away from them is in my mind a matter of doubt." "Well," said I, "get the man that takes care of our horses; we will take him along." I have forgotten his name. He was a brave. "Be ready and we will start early tomorrow morning." I was still suffering much from my wound and had to carry my arm in a sling. In the morning we mounted and set out to look for Tipsy and his band. Not a soul about camp knew anything of my purpose. We had to pass through Jacksonville, where we stopped, got our late breakfast. I had to ride slow. Every step the horse took jarred and hurt. I purchased some presents for Indians and again set out on our way. We failed to find Tipsy where we expected, and night come on us as we started up one prong of Applegate Creek, and about a half mile up it we found that we had to cross a very ugly branch, steep banks and very brushy on both sides. We made out to get across. It was as dark as night could well be, but we pressed ahead and directly we got out of the thick brush we found ourselves right in the Indian camp.
    The Indians were completely taken by surprise, and so were we. They sprang to their feet, raised the war whoop and in an instant were ready to fire. Bob Metcalfe called out, "Don't fire, we are friends and come to talk and make peace," and give them money and other presents. We had hurried our horses forward and dismounted at one of their camp fires. I told them who I was and why I come, that I was tired of fighting and come to talk with them, to eat, sleep and smoke with them, that if I had wanted to fight I would have brought my men with me, but I did not want to fight, consequently, the three of us had come and no more. Now put down your guns and let us talk. They knew Bob and knew that he would not deceive them. Bob was busy talking and shaking hands, and after an hour or more got them quieted and they gave us something to eat and there we slept that night with them, and I needed it, for I was sore and tired, but my rest was suddenly disturbed. Late in the night all at once they broke into the most melancholy cry that I had ever heard. I asked Bob what that meant. "Well," said he, "I don't know, and I like it not." He had hired an Indian boy that knew him well to sleep near him and we were all near to each other and Bob asked the boy what was the matter. The boy jumped up, listened a little while and said to Bob that it was a young squaw crying about her brother, who had been killed in a battle with the whites on Battle Creek. "Well," said I, "Bob, I come near being killed there myself, and now send this boy to the squaw with one of these new blankets and a handkerchief and tell her to take them as presents, and stop crying," that I could not sleep while she was crying. After some parleying with the boy she took the blanket and kerchief and quieted down. I soon fell asleep, and the next time I wakened it was broad daylight and I was glad that I found my hair on all right. Now for breakfast and a talk. After a long talk Tipsy agreed to meet me at an old cabin in Applegate Valley and bring all his warriors and make a treaty. That I would bring a shirt, pantaloons, coat and shoes for him, and shirt and pantaloons for each one of his braves. In two days we would meet at the cabin. All this time I had not once spoken of Pe-ous-icut, neither to Bob or the Indians.
    This agreement having been made, we took leave of Tipsy and his people and set out for Jacksonville, where we had a good rest and good fare and purchased the goods that I had agreed to give to the Indians, had them packed or baled and a peace stipulation drawn up and with the addition of two men to our party set out to meet Tipsy at the cabin as per agreement. We reached the cabin some time before the Indians, but after some little time we saw them coming. They moved in single file, Tipsy in front. I looked at them with care as they come up, and noticed that they all carried rifles at trail, and when they had got near me, I noticed one young buck take his gun, it was a Mississippi rifle, quick to his left hand and with his right hand bring back the hammer to a cock. I at once ordered them to halt and told Tipsy to direct that fellow to let down the hammer and then move forward and stack their arms in the cabin and we would talk about peace. They did so, and we agreed on terms of peace. All, everything, was explained to them by Metcalfe. They were satisfied and Tipsy signed the article. Then the goods were unpacked and the chief received his suit of clothes and seemed well pleased. Then I told Tipsy to tell his men to come up one at a time, give his name, that I wanted Bob to write in my book the name of each one of his people and that when the name was written each of them would receive his present. Accordingly they come and each one give his name and received his present. By and by the last one come and gave his name, then I turned quick to the chief and asked him, "Where is Peousicut?" He started very perceptibly at the name being mentioned, looked steadily at me, and asked if I knew Peousicut and why I asked for him. Well, I told him that I wanted to see him and give him the same kind of present that I had given to the others. Said he, "I will take them to him." That Peousicut and two others were hunting for meat for the women and children. "No," I told him that I would leave the presents at Jacksonville for him, that now they could all or any of them go to Jacksonville and that Peousicut could go and get the clothes that would be left for him. We parted with our new-made friends. We returned to Jacksonville and to camp not long after. Peousicut was arrested, tried for murder, found guilty and hung and not very long after that Tipsy and his band got into a war with the miners on Cottonwood and Tipsy and his entire band were killed, and then were quite out of the way of our people, and old Jo's entire tribe were placed on [a] reservation.
    Most of the old Indians, those that figured in the wars above mentioned, are now dead. Mary, as I have been informed, become the mother of children by one of the distinguished gentlemen of our country. But of this I know nothing. I believe that I have heard that Mary is dead, but I am not certain about it. It is now twenty-three years since I saw her or any of her people. After the events above mentioned, the people of southern Oregon had peace and prosperity and did prosper as people seldom do in new countries, until 1855-6, when the great war chief John and his band of warriors commenced an indiscriminate war upon our people in nearly all of southern Oregon. It was fierce and bloody. But I was not at the time in the Territory, consequently, did not participate in the war, and cannot give a correct account of the origin or conduct of the war of 1855-6. I was in Washington on other duty. Some three years after I had the good fortune to procure the passage through Congress of an appropriation to pay the troops who fought the battles and all expenses incurred by the war.
    The next notes will relate to the organization of the territorial government. Very brief. Then I have done.
                                        Lane.




The West Shore, August 1879, page 6


    Few there are who have not heard of General Joe Lane, of Oregon, who, from an obscure flatboatman, on the Ohio River, has risen to some of the most prominent positions in the land. Today he lives on the Pacific Slope, far away from the scenes of his early struggles. He was born in North Carolina, in 1801, and was only six years of age when his father, John Lane, removed to Henderson County, Kentucky. What education he received was obtained, at intervals, in some log house, where a man who knew his letters acted as teacher. He was a sharp, quick-witted boy, more fond of hunting than books, and, withal, was very popular with the pioneers on account of his accommodating disposition. In 1818 his father removed to Vanderburgh County, Indiana,* (*The land upon which Mr. Lane settled was really in Warrick County at that time, but Hon. Ratliff Boon, fearing that Joe Lane, who was a very popular youth at nineteen years of age, would seriously interfere with his political aspirations in this county, caused a strip of land to be transferred from the southeastern part of Warrick to the territory of Vanderburgh County, which included the farm that Mr. Lane had settled upon, thereby making Joe Lane ineligible to office in this county. By reference to the map, the reader will observe this apparent encroachment upon Warrick County territory by Vanderburgh. However, General Lane afterwards represented Warrick and Vanderburgh counties in the State Senate several terms in succession.--Ed. W. and its P.P.) and purchased a tract of land about nine miles above Evansville. Here Joseph was invited by Judge Grass, who kept a store near Rockport, to proceed there and act as a clerk in his establishment. He was at once regarded with favor by all who had business at the store, as he was well posted in stories of frontier life, and was kind and obliging. He next, in company with his brother Simon, bought a flatboat, sold wood to the steamboats as they passed; made many trips to New Orleans, carried on a farm; dealt in stock, etc., until the breaking out of the Mexican War, when he began to secure recruits in Evansville and vicinity. Soon a large number of the hardy yeomanry were mustered into the second regiment, and with our subject as their Colonel was off for the scene of the war. His regiment was placed in the division commanded by General Taylor, and his exploits immediately attracted the attention of "Old Rough and Ready," who showed his confidence
in the Indiana pioneer by making Colonel Lane a Brigadier General. General Lane was not only a brave man, but he was possessed of a knowledge of the Mexican style of fighting, and was an invaluable officer in that vigorous campaign, so successfully managed by General Taylor.
    After the close of hostilities the President appointed him Governor of the Territory of Oregon, and upon the admission of Oregon into the Union, he was elected a Senator. General Lane was a delegate from Oregon to the Democratic Convention which nominated Franklin Pierce for President in 1852. In 1860, General Lane was nominated for Vice President on the Breckinridge Democratic ticket, and his career in that memorable campaign is a part of the records of the country. General Lane was married, while living in Vanderburgh County, to Miss Mary Hart, daughter of Matthew Hart. Ten children were the result of this union, of whom only one has died. Taking him us a representative pioneer, we have presented this brief sketch of his life. His public services are a permanent part of our national history.--Evansville and its Men of Mark.
   
    The following letter, which we have slightly abridged, from General Joseph Lane, while living at Roseburg, Oregon, to A. T. Whittlesey, Esq., Secretary of the Vanderburgh County Historical and Biographical Society, contains many interesting incidents of his own life and reminiscences of prominent men and important events in the early history of Warrick and Vanderburgh counties. From it, much information can be gained regarding the old veteran's residence in this section, which is not given in the foregoing sketch of his life:
    "In 1814 my father settled on the Kentucky bank of the Ohio River, opposite the mouth of Cypress Creek, the place afterwards owned by the McCormicks, and for aught I know, still belonging to some one of the family; be that as it may. We succeeded in clearing off the cane and small timber, chopping around the big trees so as to deaden them, and put in cultivation ten acres of that rich bottomland. The first year we raised a good crop of corn, a good garden, and some six hundred pounds of cotton in the seed. Then, all families, not very rich, raised cotton and flax; carded, spun, wove and made their own clothing, sheeting and other necessary cloths. When our cotton was picked out of the boll and sacked, old Mr. Vanada, who lived on the bank of the river, three miles from us, proposed to furnish a skiff and with my help take the cotton of both parties to Henderson, then called Red Banks, where a Mr. McBride had put up a gin to pick the seeds from the cotton, and also a small carding machine to make the cotton into rolls, which, by the way, was at that time of great advantage to poor people. Well, in the fall of 1815, with our cotton loaded in the skiff, the good old gentleman and myself set out for Henderson. I did the rowing.
    "At nightfall we had reached the mouth of Green River; a slight headwind prevailed, and finding myself a little tired I proposed to land, but Mr. Vanada said: 'No, we must reach Henderson by morning.' We ate a portion of our cold ham and cornbread, and I settled down to the oars, he held the tiller and on we went, rowing as hard as I could, the wind increased; faithfully did I tug at the oars, but our progress was slow. As we commenced to turn McClain's Point the wind took us fair, and the waves broke over the sides of our skiff. The old gentleman called out 'Hard on the oars!' and headed our little boat quartering up the river. We made a landing not far from where Shanklin first opened his store. There we camped and slept till morning, the wind still blowing too hard for our little boat or the power that propelled it. As we could not go on, I took a ramble through the woods and brush, and for the first time looked over the land and site where now stands the beautiful and business city of Evansville, with its many churches, and school houses, and banks, and public edifices, with its daily lines of steamboats and railroads, and constant hurry and rush of business, and with its high state of civilization. Then how little did I think of the great future of the site where then, alone, I rambled; could I then have foreseen it, with my uniform good health and energy, what a large fortune could now be mine; perhaps Heaven directs! My life has been one of action, and not of speculation; directed in a different sphere, and although in that sphere I experienced much hardship, deep anxiety and severe wounds, from which I suffer much pain and inconvenience, it was necessary for the protection of our pioneers and the rapid progress of civilization that soon followed and spread all over the Pacific Slope. But enough of this.
    "In the winter of that year, 1815, I obtained permission to go out and work for myself. Early in 1816 I obtained work in Darlington, the county seat at that time of Warrick County. It was located one mile from the Ohio River, between Pigeon and Cypress creeks, and bordered on a long pond that in winter afforded fine duck shooting, and in summer plenty of mosquitoes, ague and bilious fever; quite as sickly as any place between Louisville and New Orleans.
    "Myself, and several other young men, took a contract to cut, raft and deliver several hundred saw logs at Henderson, Kentucky, to Mr. Audubon, (subsequently known as the great ornithologist). He had built and owned a very good steam saw mill, a little too soon for the times, which was one among other failures that caused him to quit business and turn his attention to that branch of science and literature in which he afterwards became famous.
    "It was while engaged in delivering logs and rowing back in our skiff that I got acquainted with everyone who lived on the bank of the river, and especially did I get well acquainted with Col. Hugh McGary, and was rather pleased with him. He talked well on the subject of his town site and of the ultimate greatness of his prospective city. With him, I walked over a portion of the land. A portion of it I had walked over the year before, solitary and alone; I found him quite in earnest about his town. Not long after this he put up his hewed log house not far from Mitchell's Corner, I think, near the spot where, some time after, James Lewis built his dwelling house. Upon this occasion we camped near his house, and he spent most of the night with us, and talked much and complained bitterly of Col. Ratliff Boon, who was, as he held, the only obstacle to his success; that he, Boon, was opposed to the formation of a new county out of Warrick, Posey and Gibson, and so arranging the boundaries as to make his town site central. I was fond of Boon and did not like to hear him abused, but said nothing until after I had obtained employment in the clerk's office; then the first time that I saw Boon I took the liberty of saying to him that perhaps he had it in his power, or if he wished he could have a new county formed out of the counties above named, and still have them large enough, and that by so doing he would make many friends. A few months after I happened to be present at a conversation held in the clerk's office, while our circuit court was in session, between Boon, McGary, Gen. Evans and Judge Daniel Grass, all leading men, in which the whole programme of a new county was fully discussed. Boon mentioned that such chipping of Warrick County would necessitate the relocation of the county seat and the probable point would be at or near Setteedown's village, where he, a Shawnee chief, had lived with his little band until 1811, and who, before he left to join his nation had killed some white people in French Island neighborhood. He was followed and killed by a party of citizens, among whom Boon figured conspicuously.
    The county seat was relocated and located as above mentioned or suggested, and Boon's name is, and rightly should be, perpetuated. Boonville is still the county seat of Warrick County. The boundaries of Spencer County were so fixed as to insure the location of the county seat at Rockport, a good location. Vanderburgh County was formed so as to make McGary's town site fit in exactly. General Evans had now become part owner; the county seat was located and the name of the proprietor was perpetuated in the now-famous city of Evansville. In 1818 my father moved from the Kentucky side to the Indiana side of the Ohio River, in Vanderburgh County, a short distance below the foot of 'Three Mile' Island. In 1820 I married and became owner of a portion of his land, where I lived till 1846 (my family remaining until 1853) and where our ten children had their birth. It is hardly worthwhile for me to mention the names of the early settlers and business men, lawyers, doctors, etc. You have among you those who knew them all.
    "In 1822 I was first elected to the Legislature from the counties of Vanderburgh and Warrick. Gen. Evans and Dr. Foster were opposing candidates; three of us on the track and one to be elected. Your humble servant had a plurality of fourteen votes over Gen. Evans, who was better qualified to represent the district than Foster and myself put together. That year the Legislature held its session at Corydon, then the seat of government, and continued to so be (if my memory serves me right) until 1825. After that, Indianapolis became the permanent seat of government.
    "In 1822 the House organized by electing Gen. G. W. Johnson, of Knox County, Speaker, and Wm. Sheets, Clerk, Boon, Lieutenant-Governor, was President of the Senate, and Farnham, Secretary. At that session Governor Wm. Hendricks was elected to the United States Senate, and Boon became the acting Governor. Among the members of the House of that session were some young men of promise that afterwards became prominent. To wit: Oliver H. Smith, Gen. Milton Stapp, Bullock and Pinckney Jones; two of these became quite prominent. I suppose that it is safe to say that not a member (myself excepted) of either House of that session is now living, or has been living within the last ten or fifteen years. On looking back, how sad one feels! The only one left!
    "As many of the older members of your society know, I served at intervals in one or the other house of our State Legislature from 1822 to 1846, when I left vacant an unexpired term in the Senate, and volunteered in that gallant old veteran Capt. William Walker's company. From him I took my first lessons in company drill.
    "At Buena Vista, sword in hand, he fell, while nobly and gallantly battling for his country's honor. A truer and braver soldier fell not upon any battlefield, before or since.
    "The Speakers in the several houses in which I served after 1822 were Isaac Howk, Harbin H. Moore and Dr. John W. Davis; and if I remember correctly, each of these gentlemen served more than one term as presiding officer.
    "I was twice elected to the Senate, once only beaten for the House; that was by Wm. T. T. Jones, a gallant, talented gentleman. Brown Butler run me close; I beat him by only six votes. After that Butler was my colleague in the House while I was in the Senate. As you are aware, I did my part in bringing about a compromise between the state and her creditors, or bondholders; the adjustment saved us the disgrace of threatened repudiation, to which I was very earnestly opposed. During my whole service in the Legislature I did all I could for the promotion of the interests and honor of our state and the district that I in part represented.
    I have not, as was my intention when I commenced writing, given the names of the early business men of Evansville, the mechanics, professional men and others that ought to have a place in history. I have endeavored to give the little I knew of the influence of the men who shaped and formed boundaries of counties and location of county seats, all of which was under- stood, by the actors, a year or two before the great work was accomplished, all of them more or less interested, and still all they did resulted in great public good. Ratliff Boon, Daniel Grass (the humorist) and Gen. Robert M. Evans were more than ordinary men of their day and deserve a place in the history of Indiana.
    "With kind regards and best wishes for the health and success of all the Society, I am, sir, with much respect, your obedient servant,
    The writing of this letter to the Vanderburgh Historical Society was one of the last acts of General Lane's life. He died at Roseburg, Oregon, on April 20th, 1881, in his seventy-ninth year.
William Fortune, ed., Warrick and Its Prominent People (Evansville: The Courier Company, 1881) 72-80.  The letter above was edited from the version published in the January 31, 1881 Evansville Journal, transcribed below.


    (During the reading of General Lane's paper before the Historical Society, Saturday afternoon, there was the very closest attention paid by everyone present. It was greatly relished, and the expressions of pleasure were many and sincere. As will be seen, the greater part of the paper was dictated by the General,and taken down by his daughter, in a handwriting notably neat and legible. Near its close, though, and to endorse it all with his autograph, General Lane took up the pen himself, and the result, as seen in the original, is a specimen of  chirography, though showing the evidences of age, yet remarkably clear and round. The signature, "Joseph Lane," is especially firm and plain. The General's friends in Evansville are happy to believe this distinction to hold true of himself: that while showing the evidences of his many years, as necessarily he must, he yet continues to possess much of his former spirit and interest in affairs,and is capable of enjoying his life to the fullest; and they wish this may continue true of him for a long time to come.--Ed. JOURNAL.)
A. T. Whittlesey, Esq., Secretary Vander-
burgh Historical and Biographical Society:
    DEAR SIR--I must be permitted to apologize for the long delay in complying with a promise that by letter I made to you five or six months ago. To wit, that I would forward to you a paper containing my recollections of the early settlers of Vanderburgh County, and of the city of Evansville from its earliest days; and now, my dear friend, I am hardly able to undertake the task. I am suffering from constant pain in my right shoulder and arm; and with frequent crampings in my fingers; but I have made up my mind to try, and if possible make good my promise.
on the Kentucky bank of the Ohio River, opposite the mouth of Cypress Creek; the place afterwards owned by the McCormicks, and for aught I know, still belonging to some one of the family. Be that as it may, we succeeded in clearing off the cane and small timber, chopping around the big trees so as to deaden them, and put in cultivation ten acres of that rich bottom land the first year; we raised a good crop of corn, a good garden, and some six hundred pounds of cotton in the seed [i.e., without the seeds removed]. Then all families, not very rich, raised cotton and flax; carded, spun, wove and made their own clothing, sheeting and other necessary cloths. When our cotton was picked out of the boll and sacked, old Mr. Vanada, who lived on the bank of the river, three miles from us, proposed to furnish a skiff and with my help take the cotton of both parties to
where a Mr. McBride had put up a gin to pick the seeds from the cotton, and also a small carding machine to make the cotton into rolls; which by the way, was at that time of great advantage to poor people. Well, in the fall of 1815, with our cotton loaded in the skiff, the good old gentleman and myself set out for Henderson. I did the rowing.
    At nightfall we had reached the mouth of Green River; a slight headwind prevailed, and finding myself a little tired I proposed to land; but Mr. Vanada said, "No; we must reach Henderson by morning." We ate a portion of our cold ham and cornbread, and I settled down to the oars; he held the tiller and on we went, rowing as hard as I could; the wind increased; faithfully did I tug at the oars, but our progress was slow. As we commenced to turn McClain's point the wind took us fair, and the waves broke over the sides of our skiff. The old gentleman called out "Hard on the oars" and headed our little boat quartering up the river. We made a landing not far from where Shanklin first opened his store. There we
the wind still blowing too hard for our little boat or the power that propelled. As we could not go on, I took a ramble through the woods and brush, and for the first time looked over the land and site where now stands the beautiful and business city of Evansville, with its many churches and school houses, and banks, and public edifices; with its daily lines of steamboats and railroads, and constant hurry and rush of business, and with its high state of civilization. Then how little did I think of the great future of the site where then alone I rambled; could I then have foreseen it, with my uniform good health and energy, what a large fortune could now be mine; perhaps Heaven directs! My life has been one of action, and not of speculation; directed in a different sphere, and although in that sphere I experienced much hardship, deep anxiety, and severe wounds from which I suffer much pain and inconvenience, it was necessary for the
and the rapid progress of civilization that soon followed and spread all over the Pacific Slope. But enough of this.
    In the winter of that year, 1815, I obtained permission to go out and work for myself. Early in 1816 I obtained work at Darlington, the county seat at that time of Warrick County. It was located one mile from the Ohio River between Pigeon and Cypress creeks, and bordered on a long pond that in winter afforded fine duck shooting, and in summer plenty of mosquitoes, ague and bilious fever; quite as sickly as any place between Louisville and New Orleans.
    Myself and several other young men took a contract to cut, raft and deliver several hundred saw logs at Henderson, Kentucky, to Mr. Audubon (subsequently known as the great ornithologist). He had built and owned a very good steam saw mill, a little too soon for the times, which was one among other failures that caused him to quit business and turn his attention to that branch of science and literature in which
    It was while engaged in delivering logs and rowing back in our skiff that I got acquainted with everyone who lived on the bank of the river, and especially did I get well acquainted with Col. Hugh McGary, and was rather pleased with him. He talked well on the subject of his town site and of the ultimate greatness of his prospective city. With him I walked over a portion of the land. A portion of it I had walked over the year before solitary and alone; I found him quite in earnest about his town. Not long after this he put up his hewed log house not far from Mitchell's Corner, I think near the spot where some time after James Lewis built his dwelling house. Upon this occasion we camped near his house, and he spent most of the night with us, and talked much and complained bitterly of Col. Ratliff Boon; who was, as he held, the only obstacle to his success; that he, Boon, was opposed to the formation of a new county out of Warrick, Posey and Gibson, and so arranging the boundaries as to make his town site central.
and did not like to hear him abused, but said nothing until after I had obtained employment in the Clerk's office; then the first time that I saw Boon, I took the liberty of saying to him that perhaps he had it in his power, or if he wished he could have a new county formed out of the counties above named, and still have them large enough; and that by so doing he would make many friends. A few months after I happened to be present at a conversation held in the Clerk's office, while our Circuit Court was in session, between Boon, McGary, Gen. Evans and Judge Daniel Grass, all leading men, in which the whole programme of a new county was fully discussed. Boon mentioned that such chipping of Warrick County would necessitate the relocation of the county seat; and the probable point would be at, or near, the Settee Down's village, where he, a Shawnee Chief, had lived with his little band until 1811, and who before he left to join his nation had killed some white people in French Island neighborhood. He was followed and killed by a party of citizens, among whom Boon figured conspicuously.
and located as above mentioned or suggested; and Boon's name is, and rightly should be, perpetuated. Boonville is still the county seat of Warrick County. The boundaries of Spencer County were so fixed as to ensure the location of the county seat at Rockport, a good location. Vanderburgh County was formed so as to make McGary's town site fit in exactly. General Evans had now become part owner; the county seat was located and the name of the proprietor was perpetuated in the now famous city of Evansville. In 1818 my father moved from the Kentucky side to the Indiana side of the Ohio River, in Vanderburgh County, a short distance below the foot of "Three Mile" Island. In 1820 I married and became owner of a portion of his land, where I lived till 1846 (my family remaining until 1853), and where our ten children had their birth. It is hardly worthwhile for me to mention the names of the early settlers and business men, lawyers, doctors, &c. You have among you those who knew them all.
to the Legislature from the counties of Vanderburgh and Warrick. Gen. Evans and Dr. Foster were opposing candidates: three of us on the track and one to be elected. Your humble servant had a plurality of fourteen votes over Gen. Evans, who was better qualified to represent the district than Foster and myself put together. That year the Legislature held its session at Corydon, then the seat of government, and continued to so be (if my memory serves me right) until 1825. After that Indianapolis became the permanent seat of government.
    In 1822 the House organized by electing Gen. F. W. Johnson, of Knox County, Speaker, and Wm. Sheets, Clerk, Boon, Lieutenant Governor, was President of the Senate, and Farnham Secretary. At that session Governor Wm. Hendricks was elected to the United States Senate, and Boon became the acting Governor. Among the members of the House of that session were some young men of promise that
to wit: Oliver H. Smith, Gen. Milton Stapp, Bullock and Pinckney Jones; two of these became quite prominent. I suppose that it is safe to say that not a member (myself excepted) of either house of that session is now living, or has been living within the last ten or fifteen years. On looking back, how sad one feels! The only one left!
    As many or the older members of your society know, I served at intervals in one or the other house of our State Legislature from 1822 to 1846, when I left vacant an unexpired term in the Senate, and volunteered in that gallant old veteran Capt. Wm. Walker's company. From him I took my first lessons in company drill.
    At Buena Vista, sword in hand, he fell while nobly and gallantly battling for his country's honor. A truer and braver soldier fell not upon any battlefield, before or since.
    The speakers in the several houses in which I served after 1822 were Isaac Howk, Harbin H. Moore, and Dr. John W. Davis; and if I remember correctly, each of these gentlemen served more than one term as presiding officer.
once only beaten for the House; that was by Wm. T. T. Jones, a gallant, talented gentleman.
    Brown Butler run me close; I beat him by only six votes. After that Butler was my colleague in the House while I was in the Senate. As you are aware, I did my part in bringing about a compromise between the state and her creditors, or bondholders; the adjustment saved us the disgrace of threatened repudiation, to which I was very earnestly opposed. During my whole service in the Legislature I did all I could for the promotion of the interests and honor of our state and the district that I in part represented. No one took more interest or felt more anxious for the growth, prosperity and success of a town than did your humble servant for the town of Evansville from her very earliest beginning. I witnessed her start, and at first slow but regular progress, until she attained the
and none felt prouder or more gratified than myself, and from time to time, as I have learned of the success and growth and prosperity and business of your city I have felt heart-glad and proud.
    Near there all my children had their birth; there I spent many happy days; and as representative in your legislature I did my duty and added my little mite to the success of Evansville and the county of Vanderburgh. Occasionally some friend sends me a copy of the DAILY JOURNAL; quickly I devour all that relates to markets, business, and progress; daily lines of steamboats, arrivals and departures, destination, passengers, freights, etc., railroads leading to and from the city in all directions, arrivals and departures by river and rail nearly every hour in the twenty-four daily. Who that has known the place from its inception would not feel proud of the prosperous and great business
    Thus far my daughter has had the kindness to copy; and what it took me three days to scratch off she copied in as many hours. For a short time and while my fingers hold out I can write so that friends can read my letters, but directly I am compelled to stop and with my left hand straighten my fingers that hold the pen. I have not, as was my intention when I commenced writing, given the names of the early business men of Evansville, the mechanics, professional men and others that ought to have a place in history. I have endeavored to give the little I knew of the influence of the men who shaped and formed boundaries of counties and location of county seats, all of which was understood by the actors a year or two before the great work was accomplished, all of them more or less interested, and still all they did resulted in great public good. Ratcliff Boon, Daniel Grass (the humorist) and Gen. Robert M. Evans were more than ordinary men of their day and deserve a place in the history of Indiana.
    With kind regards and best wishes for the health and success of all the Society, I am, sir, with much respect, your obedient servant,
Evansville Daily Journal, Evansville, Indiana, January 31, 1881, page 5




Last revised October 9, 2024