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The Infamous Black Bird Southern Oregon History, Revised


Lt. August V. Kautz
For more on Kautz, see Rodney Glisan's Journal of Army Life.


OREGON CORRESPONDENCE.
PORT ORFORD, O.T., January 1st, 1854.
    Dear "Spirit"--You will look in vain for Port Orford on the map. You may find Cape Blanco, but that ain't Port Orford; though better navigators than either of us have taken one for the other, we are eight miles farther south. No doubt so small a distance is not estimated by you, seven thousand miles distant, by the road [you] must travel, but still we like to know where we are, and having settled that point we will proceed.
    Port Orford and Fort Orford are synonymous terms; the latter alludes to a few log cabins adjusted, like Peter Funk's hat, slightly on one side, and an old tarpaulin stretched over some poles for a stable, with one officer, a sergeant, and five men constituting the military establishment which is to protect and watch over the interests of a heterogeneous class that has built up the former--a mining village, with a dozen houses situated on a little bay opening to the south, from whence it receives the full benefit that may be derived from every southeaster that blows. Here the miners who grub among the sands of the seashore from the Coquille to the Rogue River get their grub; that is they used to do so, but don't now, for the place is nearly starved out. The San Diego left San Francisco freighted for this port near two months ago; and we since heard that she capsized and got into Puget Sound a perfect wreck, and the loss of nearly all our winter's supply of provisions. There has another schooner started for this point since, and she has not been heard of yet. We may never hear of her, but that is no reason that we should starve, and as the steamer won't land us any freight, we all expect to turn Nimrods and move into the mountains, which are not far off, and said to be thronged with elk, though it takes a Nimrod who knows how to hunt elk to get them.
    We are not many, but mighty, so the Indians think, who, though they outnumber us ten to one, give us no trouble, and treat a Boston with great respect; that is they won't steal his last shirt before his face, or back out from a bargain until they have ascertained with some certainty that they have the worst of it. Owing to the capacity of their stomachs for anything that is digestible, they are better provided with a winter's supply of provisions than the Bostons, for a zee-la (whale) was driven ashore a few days ago, intended no doubt as a providential interference against the approaching famine; but the Indians had cut it in pieces before the whites could approach it, so penetrating is the smell of anything fresh to the starving Bostons. It was a great windfall (of course it was the wind blew it ashore) for them; they have "hiyou mucka-muck" now (plenty to eat). Since then every morning a caravan of squaws, each loaded with a large quadrangular solid, a portion of the before-mentioned zee-la, enough for any mule, pass through the town up the hill by the garrison, all in single file, the largest in front, dwindling down to the smallest "klootchman" (squaw) behind, transporting it to their rancherias on Elk and Six rivers above. On it they will feast, and do nothing else until it is all gone. The Indian is a great epicure--of quantity, not quality; and a dish of whale oil is valued not for its purity, or cleanliness, but in proportion to the mass.
    Since my arrival here, the elements have had a great row, and not wishing to interfere with them in their trouble, I have been prevented from looking about me much to ascertain the nature of the country I am in. And the difficulty is not settled yet, for the winds howl, the skies threaten, and the sea is restless and uneasy. Not until peace and calm is restored will I venture among such an unruly sea. It is a source of regret that many [sic] can't have a meteorological reporter here, for he could get wind, and rain, and storm enough in one winter to satisfy a man with his excessive fondness for such things, and from that amount of data he could come to the conclusion immediately that sailors have no business to be at sea on this coast. It is well that he is not here to endanger his life by personal observations. For if he ventured out in some of the storms that we have here, he would himself become the straw that would show which way the wind blew; he would be whisked up like the foam upon the beach, and be carried off with these seeming clouds of feathers, and the gulls, to leeward. The rain does not come from above, but it comes along horizontally from somewhere in the horizon; it does not fall, for if during a lull in the storm for a moment a worn-out and exhausted drop should seek the ground, the next gust would pick it up and drive it along again, unless it hastily creeps into the sand. On the night of the 25th Nov., we had a terrible rumpus--all the witches of the air, the demons of the storm, and the genii of the earth were abroad, and like the wizards of old, they played sad havoc among the things of men and earth; such as taking down fences, and setting them round where they should not be, pulling up trees by the roots and laying them across the roads, pushing and pulling at the houses, making the inmates tremble with fear, removing piazzas and porches, and tearing long ragged ribbons from canvas houses, and playing in the wind with them; and one house was taken entirely to pieces. All of which would not have been so serious, if they had only returned them after the example of their old ancestors. But this they neglected to do, and the confusion of the inhabitants, the next morning, could only be compared with the things about them. Everything was topsy-turvy, the roads were blocked up, everybody's fences were on everybody else's gardens; a new bowling alley was taken possession of by the furies, who took the liberty of taking the first roll, and the first roll turned it over, knocking down several pigs as well as the pins, a "thirteen or fourteen strike in all," and the adjoining grog shop was left without an alley in more senses than one.
    The banks for fifty feet from the shore were white with foam, showing into what a rage the sea had been lashed by the excited furies. I was roused the next morning by my man McFalls, who, with a gloomy and sorrowful visage, recounted the devastations of the night. He held in his hand two odd socks, dripping wet and dirty; for two days he had been washing my clothes, and in consequence of the rain was compelled to hang them up in his temporary wash house, by the stove, and the panels of the door had been driven in by the storm during the night, and scattered his washing about in every direction, so that they had all to be washed over again. All this he recited with the deepest emotion such a string of mishaps could call forth, and holding out the two unfortunate socks, he concluded, "and shure sur, the're all odd, I can't find nerry mate, high nor low."
    Finally the demons of the storm hauled in their horns, the furies of the winds having "cracked their cheeks," as well as everything else, ceased to blow, and the sun having smiled on the havoc that had been created since he had last seen us, I thought I would venture on a little expedition up Rogue River, with the Indian Agent and the Doctor; you will observe that I am always accompanied with an Indian Agent and a Dr., two very necessary personages in an Indian country. The object of the expedition was to hold a wawa (talk) with the Shasta-Costa Indians, who had recently shown themselves a little hostile, when the Agent expected, relying on his persuasive and logical powers, to convince them of the absurdity of quarreling with their best friends.
    We set out on a day that promised fair but lied, for it was very foggy. We traveled down the coast for the mouth of Rogue River with the intention of taking canoes there, to ascend the river. Our road was one of the muddiest and roughest trails I have ever had the privilege of testing by doing half the walking on, notwithstanding that I had an excellent mule. We hoped to reach Elizabethtown in one day, but this hope was dissipated, by a couple of the animals concluding to camp at the end of twenty miles, so we stopped to keep them company. We camped near a village of the Euchres. The first night out in a trip like ours is always the most embarrassing, but with the exception that the fire would not light for a long time, and that it was sandy where we camped, that we had to take our supper after dark, that it rained in the night, and we were wet in the morning, and found the Indian dogs had stolen all our pork, we got along very well. But the rain continuing, and our fire being out, and wood scarce, and Elizabethtown only five miles distant, we rode on without our breakfast, which we took at a late hour after our arrival. Elizabethtown is a mining village, some four or five miles from the mouth of Rogue River, that has sprung up during the summer, built by the miners who are digging their "everlasting fortune" from the sands on the beach. As it continued to storm and rain all day, we did nothing but make arrangements for our canoes. However, had the wind and weather been ever so favorable, we could not have done any more, for it is a good day's work to deal with Indians for their canoes, with men to man them, if you have nothing but shirts and blankets to offer, for the men wear nothing, and the women cedar bark.
    We intended to start early the next morning, but we didn't, unless about noon may be so called; this arose from the fact that though we were ready, the Indians were not. It is a pleasant fiction when we insist that we ascended Rogue River in canoes, for though the canoes went up as well as we, we took the shore, and the canoes took the water. Occasionally, here and there, where the steep precipitous banks impeded our progress, they would set us across the river, and we were sure to find a bar on the other side, where the walking was quite convenient. In this manner we went about ten miles the first day, and at sundown encamped near an Indian village. Here we were the wonder of the evening, and quite a large crowd waited upon us, and though quite as much annoyed as Kossuth and suite in America, common politeness constrained us to receive them, though I have my doubts whether our consideration was appreciated, for they had the impoliteness to insist on sharing every mouthful we ate during supper. We had passed quite a large village during the day, and this was the second.
    The Doctor and I went up to witness one of their dances, but it proved a farce, as such things often do in more civilized countries. Two Indians kept time with sticks upon a board, whilst half a dozen others hopped about in a stooping position, much after the manner in which one would conceive a frog would dance, supposing that animal under musical influence. They failed to get up the necessary excitement, and proved very monotonous, and as we bid them goodbye with more politeness than was absolutely necessary, they themselves confessed that it was "wake kloshe," which, for the edification of your Irish readers, I will state means not good. The next morning we found the same difficulty about starting that we did before. The Indians, having waited very patiently for the leavings of our breakfast, found it necessary to increase that amount, to complete their meal for the morning, as we could not afford to feed Indian dogs and their masters too.
    Finally we were under way. As we ascended, the hills closed in more closely, and high and steep precipices overhung alternately each side of the river. One of our Indians, the war chief of the Tututnis, had gone ahead in the morning to kill a deer, but he changed his mind and killed a panther--the presence of the former having been interfered with by the sudden appearance of the latter. It had a magnificent skin, which the Indian Agent, by virtue of his office, contracted for immediately. We continued to foot our way along the shore and base of the rocky precipices, except where they overhung the waters at too great height, and then we declined climbing over them, but would let the canoes either cross us over or take us up a few hundred yards, where we would again find a footing. The Doctor was following close behind me, and behind him was my man, McFalls, a tall, raw, awkward Irishman, and everybody else still behind him a long distance, when we three were suddenly thrown into the worst stage of the buck fever by the sudden appearance of a young buck around a rocky point; he was in the middle of the river, and swimming diagonally down and across the stream. As I never was known to get my gun off when I most wished so to do, I did not deviate from my usual custom on this occasion, and capped and recapped without obtaining the climax that I desired. In the meantime, the Doctor fired, and as he had no faith in his gun, notwithstanding that it was a very good one, he missed, of course. McFalls had one of Hall's carbines, old and condemned, which, being overanxious to redeem itself from the disgrace into which it had fallen, went off before he had quite decided in which direction he was going to fire. At last, the deer having got a long way off, my gun went off a long way, too. Our Indians--that is, those in the canoe to which the Doctor and I belonged--having satisfied themselves that the shots did not proceed from an ambuscade, glided rapidly across the stream and reached the opposite shore a little before the deer, and one of them jumping out headed it into the water again, where they de-headed him in a few moments after, by knocking his brains out with a sharp paddle. Compliments to ourselves were unnecessary, but the remainder of the party behind could not refrain from flattering us a little in their peculiar way, congratulating us on having won the leather medal that is always supposed to be at stake on such extra occasions; we returned the compliments on our guns in curses, not loud but deep--too deep for utterance here.
    We had not proceeded much farther when we were startled by the howl of a wolf, on the hillside, and the dismal tones echoed from cliff to cliff with a mournful effect until we were out of sight; this was made an excuse for stopping and camping. They said it was bad luck to go any farther, and unless we turned back we should all be killed to feed the wolf who was howling for our dead bodies. This was a capital joke for us, and we laughed at the enormous appetite that wolf must have to want to eat us all up. With them, however, it was serious, and they insisted on camping and stopping for the night, though it was not three o'clock in the afternoon. The Doctor and I, and several of the Indians, went out to try our skill deer hunting. I climbed a long hill and came down again, and could only see where deer had been quite plenty too evidently. The Doctor saw five, but could not get his gun off in their presence, and after they were gone it was considered by him unnecessary. The Indians saw some also, and fired once, but not with the accuracy that was necessary to secure us some venison. One of the hams of the young buck made us an excellent supper.
    The old chief with whom we had contracted for the canoes was either superstitious or obstinate, or both, I don't know which; at any rate, he quarreled with the other Indians before we went to sleep, and the next morning, before we were aware of it, he got into his canoe by himself, and put out down the river. We feared that our further progress was stopped, but on inquiry we found that a canoe had come up the evening previous and camped with our Indians; a bargain was immediately entered into, and by the time it was concluded we were all ready to proceed, so we had quite an early start. With hard travel over rocky shores and high hills, on our part, and heavy poking and paddling on the part of the Indians, over the rapids, we reached the mouth of Illinois River, quite a large branch of Rogue River, about noon. This point proved to be the end of our journey, as we found quite a village of the Shasta-Costas opposite the mouth of this stream, where we encamped.
    Our Indians, in advancing upon this village, moved very cautiously, and with some apprehension. We had with us the "Salmon Tyee" of the Tututnis, who has charge of all the fisheries of his tribe. He is a curious specimen. He possesses what might be called strongly marked features, for his entire face was battered and scarred, but particularly about the mouth, which conveyed the impression that he had once possessed an enormous entrance to his masticating organs, and that an attempt had been made to darn it up to a more moderate size, for which purpose gashes seemed to have been cut all round it, to make the flesh yield more readily; and the prominence of his eyes, and the preponderance of the whites enhanced the impression that it had been drawn very tight. On this individual the Doctor had performed an operation, the success of which had raised him very much in the Indians' estimation. His mouth had been made too small, if the above was the process, for it would barely admit the little finger of his five-pronged fork, and he was consequently a regular and legitimate sucker, and passed by the name of old Screw-mouth. We passed this old fellow's hut the first day out, and as he volunteered to accompany us we took him with us. The Doctor had cut in on both sides of his mouth, giving his countenance more openness, and certainly improving his appearance very much. He was very grateful, and as we came by, presented the Doctor with a deerskin robe, and a handful of ten-cent pieces; the latter the Doctor wished to return, but the old man looked offended, though such an expression in his features would be difficult to describe. The robe the Doctor prized, and immediately called it an heirloom, though how it became such in so short a time I cannot conceive. We certainly found him a great help to us, and he was evidently the most reliable Indian of our party. He took the lead as we approached the Shasta-Costa country on the last day, and leaving the canoes three or four miles below the village, we took the trail over a high mountain, and the old man carefully inspected the trail, examined every stump and bush by the way, to guard against a surprise; the others were equally cautious, and much more alarmed, and I am confident that a single war-whoop would have left us without a guide or a canoe.
    The Shasta-Costas, however, were very friendly to us, and during the afternoon some thirty warriors collected, and the talk came off. They were all seated round, some of them hideously painted. The old chief came forth from his sweat-house, wrapped in his blanket, and seating himself with the Indian Agent on a slab, the two interpreters between them, the "wawa" commenced. The Agent's speech was first translated into the Chinook jargon, and then into the Indian tongue. He began as all Indian Agents' speeches do, with the greatness of the great Tyee at Washington, who had sent him, and the greatness of the Bostons, who were all his people; of his peaceful disposition to those Indians who did right, and how terrible he is to those who do wrong. After entering into an agreement for the punishment of all malefactors, the Agent concluded by saying that the great Tyee would reward them if they were peaceful, and would punish them if they broke the peace. The Chief was then asked what he had to say. The old man was rather [more] amused than embarrassed at the question, though he replied that he did not know what to say; another old man, however, who seemed "gifted with the gab," as they say out West, and moreover familiar with state affairs, and was probably the Chief's prime minister, came forward, and said that they were a peaceful people, that they minded their own business; that if the Bostons would do right they would do right, and that they would endeavor to conduct themselves so that when the big Tyee came to distribute the rewards they should also be entitled to their share of the presents, and wound up with a broad hint that they were always ready to receive presents, and hoped that when any such distributions came off that they would be informed of when and where they were to be made. These sentiments, delivered three times over, in a different form each time, made quite a speech, and the old fellow walked off, at its conclusion, as though he had accomplished the particular object for which he had been created, and would henceforth appear on the world's stage no more.
    It was near night when the "wawa" closed, so we decided to remain all night where we were. The Shasta-Costas said that they were at war with a tribe upon the river who had recently killed one of their warriors. As that was none of our business we thought they might fight away. Still, it disturbed us a little that night, for about midnight old Screwmouth, sitting in front of the tent where we slept, by the fire, raised the tent front, and as I was in front, his swarthy hands fell upon me, rousing me in a moment. The light of the fire was shining full upon his grim features, and his protruding eyes seemed entirely out of their sockets. Nodding up toward the woods, he said, in half-whisper half-whistle, through that wonderful mouth of his, "Shasta-Costa!'' I was about to "surrender at discretion," for I took it for granted that we were surrounded, and that the next thing would be a volley of bullets, or, what I feared still more, a shower of arrows through the tent, and consequently right through us. But the rest of the party being roused about the same time, they snatched their guns and resolved to die fighting; so I resolved to do the same, and seriously contemplated loading the empty barrel of my shotgun with duck-shot, and, notwithstanding that I had missed every bird that I had shot at since I left Port Orford, I thought that with my six-shooter and it I would kill seven or eight at least, and sprinkle the eighth well with fine shot. Unfortunately, however, for the display of our heroic and momentary dreams of desperate rencontre, we found it to be a false alarm, and were surprised to learn that the Shasta-Costas were our friends, but that the tribe above were not; that they expected an attack that night; that if we would assist them we could whip them, and that if they did not come down that night they would go with us the next day and whip them at their own homes. This did not suit the peculiar valor that influenced us, but (of course) we were much disappointed, and, though we went to bed again, we could sleep no more from pure aggravation.
    Our Indians became so friendly with the Shasta-Costas that they were loath to part the next morning, and it was quite late before we got under way. Once started, however, we progressed more rapidly than when coming up; it was no longer an uphill business; on the contrary, we were evidently going downhill. We occasionally took in a little water, going over the rapids, that only wetted us a little, but, being insoluble, we were not much disturbed, chemically or otherwise. We passed over in one hour what required half the day before. We were only about five hours coming down; but our stoppages by the way made it four o'clock before we reached the Tututni village from which we had started.
    There was an abundance of ducks of various kinds on the river, and all our efforts to kill any going up only stimulated us to greater exertions coming down, but in vain. I blazed away at every favorable opportunity, upon the wing and upon the water, at every duck that came within range of what I had the conceit to consider a very good gun, (one of Mullin's [John Mullan's?]) and, though I may have hit one of them, they all flew off as if I had not, so it was all the same. Finally I had exhausted a two-and-a-half-pound shot bag and a large powder flask, all except the last charge, which I thought I would keep for a peculiarly favorable opportunity. A defiant duck at length allowed us to approach within thirty yards, and I blazed away again; and he floundered apparently with great agony in the water. I thought I had him, and dropping my gun, I seized a paddle and pulled away after him. In the haste and excitement of the moment--for the rapid current was carrying us by--I kicked the shotgun overboard, a fact I was not cognizant of until a splashing in the water behind me attracted my attention, and looking round, I discovered the Dr., with his head and shoulders under water, diving for it. To cap the climax, the duck, having satisfied himself that we were after him and nothing else, "took unto himself wings and flew away." Here was a handsome thing to talk about when we should get back, particularly as we went away boasting of the number of deer and elk we were going to kill, to say nothing of the small game; and here we had been out nearly a week, and "nerry one" did we kill. The Indian agent and Abbott, his interpreter, after a great deal of firing, killed a duck each, and the doctor, after shooting twice, killed a vulture [more likely a condor] that Abbott had wounded; he hit him the second shot--when he was so close that he could not possibly have missed him; he was very large--at least ten feet from the tip of one wing to the other. It is a mystery to me that we did not kill something more, if only by accident; for game was evidently plenty; we saw abundant traces of bear, deer, elk, beaver, &c., &c. We decided that mum should be the word, but that was impossible; so I have written it all down for the benefit of those who choose to laugh at us.
    A rain came on before we left the canoes and interfered with the awful punishment that we contemplated for the old chief who had run away from us with this canoe; we were going to shoot him, in the excitement of the moment, at first, only we knew that the Indian Agent would interfere; then we were going to flog him, cut his hair off, &c., &c. When we landed, however, it was raining hard and near night, and we had still three miles to walk. We stopped, however, and the Agent went through the ceremony of breaking the old fellow of his office as the Big Tyee of his tribe, and constituted the young war chief, who had been faithful to us, as the principal chief of his people for the future. It hurt the old man so much that he had the impudence to reply that he did not care whether the whites called him Tyee or not, his people would, for he had always been Tyee; he was the richest man in his tribe, and he didn't care for the whites, for they never did anything for him. And this was our revenge.
    I could not get an early start the next morning, but still I decided on going through, though the others stayed back; and though it was after night when I got in, thanks to my mule, whose superior knowledge put me right again, once, when I was lost in the woods, and when it was so dark that I couldn't see anything.
    I think I have written enough this time. I have no doubt you think that I "write but little, but I write that little long." I intended to write you about my trip through from Columbia River to San Francisco, but circumstances prevented, and it would be an old story now. That I intended to write, I will prove, by sending you the enclosed specimen of advertising, which I picked up in Umpqua Valley. The wind had no doubt torn it from some post or tree and borne it to me, and thence to fame--that is, if you will print it.
HANS.
----
    August the 25 umpquall Valy A Stray are Stoling mar went from My house Last nite She has a yong hos Colt she is parte merican an is a litl bay an blaze fase an white hind legs an is branded on the left hip with t S an on the left Sholder C if any man sees her an sendz me word ore let me no it i will satsfy him
Mr Jessee Fouts
Spirit of the Times, New York, February 25, 1854, pages 15-16  The author is apparently Lt. August V. Kautz; the Sub-Indian Agent F. M. Smith; the interpreter George H. Abbott.
HUNTING IN OREGON.
PORT ORFORD, O.T., Jan. 9, 1855.
    Dear "Spirit"--If I have not written to you for so long a time, it has not been because I did not think of so doing; on the contrary, I have often thought of it, but have been Micawberizing or Micawberating (which would you call it?) but nothing will turn up. I give you my note of hand at last, renewable at any time, and particularly when anything should turn up.
    I have been on one or two elk hunts, that were in themselves very interesting hunts; not that we killed anything, for I was never known to do so tame a thing, and I generally have sufficient address to prevent any of my fellow hunters from committing the like. I have no apprehensions from the game laws, nor need the game laws have any apprehensions from me. We generally talked of killing something, but that was only to give our expedition the character of a hunt. 
    The most delightful excursion was with the Judge, the Doctor, his son Charley, and Kossuth; Kossuth, you know, is a Hungarian. [Lajos Kossuth didn't visit the West Coast.] When we set out, the Doctor said he knew where we were going, and when we got upon Strong Point he boldly turned to the left, and one would have supposed that he really did know where we were going, notwithstanding that the trail we were following was quite invisible, and led us directly into the forest-covered hills, leaving the sea behind us. This was scene first, and was enacted about one o'clock, P.M. Scene second transpired about four P.M., at precisely the same spot, with the same characters, somewhat altered in appearance, it is true, but evidently the same. They were coming out of the woods, instead of going in, this time. I was leading John, the one-eyed pack mule, and we two led the party. John and I had evidently turned back, because John and I, with my two eyes, and his one, could not see how we were to get through, particularly John, who had on his back about a dozen loaves of bread, a ham, and camp utensils, enveloped in the entire bedding for the whole party. It was, therefore, rather difficult for him to get through an undergrowth through which nothing but a coyote or raccoon had ever passed. Next came the Judge, his appearance somewhat altered; the perspiration had considerably disturbed the rigidity of his immaculate collar, a circumstance that probably had not occurred for years before, whilst the precision of his other clothing had also been infringed upon; his struggles had evidently been severe in the "recent brush," and as he set his gun down against a tree, he looked as though if he were "monarch of all he surveyed," he would have given it all that moment for a drink of water. Kossuth and Charley came next; they were evidently supernumeraries in the scene, for they stood in the background, and were evidently laughing at their own performance. There was much dilapidation in their personal appearance; branches had evidently come in contact with a tender limb of the law, and the hero of a revolution had been himself revolutionized. The Doctor came last--that was because he went in first. He looked serious, and had evidently come to the conclusion that he did not know where he wanted to go. A consultation resulted in the conclusion that it would require more game than we possessed to reach where game could be found that night. So scene third found us about ten miles from Port Orford, encamped for the night; and as our eyes closed in sleep, so did the first act of the comedy we were playing.
    The next act carries us through several scenes, in which Charley goes hunting for the animals the next morning, and sees some deer, which he would have shot if he had had his gun with him, fortunately for the deer; and we pack up and move off toward Bald Mountain. About eleven o'clock we reach our camp, and Kossuth, with his accustomed disinterestedness, volunteers to remain in camp to protect the aforementioned loaves of bread and ham; the rest of us all start out in different directions. As usual, when hunting, I lost sight of the game I was after, and which this time, by the way, I had not seen yet, and climbed the neighboring hills to the summit of Bald Mountain to get a view of Port Orford. I saw it fifteen miles distant; but, having seen it, my next thought was to get back to camp, for night was coming on, and I was at least five miles off. Of course, I had little leisure to hunt, and night overtook me a mile from the camp. The closing scene of that day's hunt is a tall, dark forest, a thick undergrowth, and I in the midst of it making my way back to camp according to general principles of locality, when I suddenly disappear from the stage, not through a trap door, but an elk trap, about eight feet deep. (Elk traps, in this neighborhood are pitfalls dug by the Indians for catching elk and are usually eight and ten feet deep. They are very plenty in the forests, but are no longer used now.) When I get to the bottom my feet are up, and my head down. Two friendly poles enable me to get upon the stage again, with the loss of my ammunition, which I do not discover until I am out, but having been deprived of all interest in such deep matters, do not feel like making a useless search on so dark a night. I am barely able to comprehend the large horn growing out of my head, with my sprained hand; I feel it, and it seems much larger than it really is, perhaps. I finally reach camp, where I am laughed at, though why they laugh at me I cannot conceive, for none of them have killed anything except the Judge, who shot a grouse, half of which he has kindly saved for me. The Doctor saw a bear, why didn't he shoot it? It was not close enough, I suppose, or perhaps he could not get close enough; some people find it very difficult; I don't think I could get close enough to a tiger. No one else has seen anything, and as we are tired enough to sleep, the curtain drops. 
    It rises again the next morning very early, and the first scene opens with several hunters going out to kill a deer or an elk before breakfast. Scene second finds them all back again, discussing, in addition to their cold ham and coffee, the propriety of returning home, and it ends in packing up. The last scene of that day is the finale of the drama, and exceedingly well played. We again reach Stony Point, and are wending our way round it on the rocky beach, instead of over it. The Doctor is leading off, next comes the Judge. No. 1 is No. 3 this time, and Kossuth, with the one-eyed pack mule in advance of him, is bringing up the rear. John's load, although relieved of most of his bread, has rather gained than lost in weight, for a thought of our friends induced us to purchase a ham of venison of some half-breeds, who had fewer scruples or more skill than we. Our friends were evidently contemplating a rich meal from our chase, and we did not wish to disappoint them altogether. Charley had deserted us, for though he had killed no more than we, he thought it would be disreputable to be seen returning with such a party, and left us for Rogue River. 
    In the above order we were nearing the Point, when a fine buck with a noble pair of horns (seen by the Doctor, but no one else), comes quietly down the ravine, a few yards ahead of us, and walks into the surf for a bath. In the meantime the Doctor has dismounted and re-caps his rifle, an operation that attracts the curiosity of the Judge, who is thereby led to the discovery of the deer, and with an addition of a little haste to his accustomed deliberation, he also dismounts to reprime his rifle. "Gods! look at that deer," says he. I don't suppose that the presence of the deer inspired him with a divine reverence for me, but the remark is evidently intended for me, so I look and dismount in great hurry also. The Doctor fires, and as the deer comes to the conclusion he had better get out of this, he turns for shore, and it is presumed that the Doctor has missed. I am afraid someone will kill him before me, and as my gun needs no priming, I run forward and fire away, and miss also, of course. The Judge finds that his gun will not go off, notwithstanding that he has recapped it. In the meantime the Doctor forgets that he has a five-shooter in his belt, and makes an effort to catch the deer by the horns, and does not remember his pistol until the buck is fifty feet up the bank, which is very steep, in consideration of which the animal stops and looks back to see the Doctor fire at him. As the Doctor does not bring the deer down with his five-shooter, I try my Navy size, and fire five times, but the very shot that probably would have killed him did not go off. The Judge, having recapped his rifle three times in vain, thinks of his revolver, and fires three rounds before he gets beyond shooting distance. The part that Kossuth plays in this spirited scene is that of an excited spectator. The one-eyed pack mule is just in advance of him, the path narrow and rocky, and he cannot pass. Moreover I had persuaded him to discharge his rifle at a pelican in the water, without any prospect of hitting it, and had not thought it necessary to reload so near home. Seeing the deer pause to be fired at, he hastens to reload with a precipitancy that pays no regard to what he is about, and before the deer is three hundred yards distant he fires, and by the time the deer goes two hundred yards more he fires again, making the seventeenth shot that has saluted this humble inhabitant of the forest, for which attention he does not bear us the slightest mark of esteem.
    I have a great curiosity to see where he goes to, and follow over the Point to ascertain, a distance of two miles up a very steep hill and down again. In the meantime Kossuth, with his accustomed kindness, takes charge of my mule for me, a task that he finds somewhat embarrassing, as the mule will neither lead nor drive. After all his persuasion he finally dismounts and leaves his own mule standing, in charge of his gun, which he leans up against his foreshoulder, a responsibility that the mule shrinks from, and the gun, left to its own resources, "falls as though it had been shot." At this juncture I reappear, and save Kossuth a violent passion, and the mule a severe beating. I came to the conclusion that any lengthened pursuit of such a deer would only be a wild-goose chase. It is unnecessary to relate how our friends received us, particularly when all the particulars were detailed to them. 
    Kossuth and I, not satisfied with the result of this expedition, went out again a few days after, on which occasion we got belated returning to camp, and became entangled in an undergrowth that was more impenetrable than the darkness--a very alarming position to one with my experience in elk traps, which we avoided only by following down a stream in many places waist deep in water; where it exceeded our boot tops Kossuth mounted on my back, so that we might preserve at least one pair of dry feet in the party. The next morning our mules had become dissatisfied with the expedition and returned to town. On my proposition that one of us should go for the mules, and the other remain to hunt, he chose the former with his usual disinterestedness. He would always sacrifice himself, though I had my suspicions, in this instance, that salvation was the motive, and that he had misgivings of not being able to return to camp, and he chose to hunt mules, who follow the track, to elk who do not. I was fortunate enough to kill a grouse; by dint of a good support, and firing twice, I succeeded in taking its head off. Afterwards I saw an enormous elk, but it must have been an optical delusion, for I fired right at its head, within the distance of a hundred yards, and never touched it, though it was considerably moved, evidently. When I got back to camp, Kossuth had returned with the mules. When I told the story about the elk, and produced my grouse, he found it very difficult to comprehend how I could shoot off the head of a grouse, and then miss an elk, and I confess it is somewhat difficult to comprehend. He insisted that I must have lassoed it. We returned with our own views of elk hunting somewhat altered, since which time we have hunted elk no more. 
    We eat a great deal of elk, but we obtain it as we did the ham of venison. We fish sometimes in the bay, and catch plenty of rock fish. The salmon fishery is quite successful at Rogue River. They catch them with a seine, in great quantities. They have caught four hundred at a single drag, varying from fifteen to seventy-five pounds in weight, each. I believe I will close with this fish story. I hope it will lose no interest by being true.
HANS.
The Spirit of the Times, New York, February 17, 1855, page 2
Fort Orford O.T.
    May 11th 1855
My Dear Cousin:
    It no doubt would be [a] waste of time in me to attempt to expose that woman's tact, which you possess, it seems, in as great perfection as anyone of your sex, with which you seek to put all the blame on my shoulders because you have not heard from me in so long a time, for you would no doubt with that same tact that I should seek to expose, turn the tables on one from an opposite direction. I will therefore only try to remind you that when you wish to hear from your cousin you have [to] but answer his letters, as he never allows a letter to go unanswered when one is required, and a letter put in the post office with Lieut. A. V. Kautz, 4th Infantry on it, even if you don't know my station, will find me out finally. I assume always that if my letter is not worth answering it is not worth writing, and my unanswered letters are therefore a source of regret to me, because I should have art [sic] so much time in penning them. Your letter seems to make up in warmth and promises what past indifference and neglect you may have been guilty of, and after so long a silence it comes with the greater force, reminding me how kind you might have been, but would not. Your promises seem earnest, and it will afford me much pleasure if you adhere to them and prove a faithful correspondent hereafter. I was in San Francisco when I received your letter. I paid that city a visit of three weeks, which was quite a holiday for me who had been shut up here in this place for eighteen months. I enjoyed myself very much, though I must say I suffered much going and coming from seasickness. I was very sick, and did not get over it for several days after I got to San Francisco & although I have been back five days now, I feel the influence of the ship yet and am quite sick sometimes. You may be sure that I stared when I saw San Francisco or "Frisco" as we call it for short, for it had improved so since I saw it last, and the wonders of the place entertained me all the time I was there. I have seen many cities much larger, but in its peculiar features none like San Francisco. You should see it, to know what it is, for I cannot describe its peculiarities. Its inhabitants are from every clime and you see creatures on the sidewalks sometimes and wonder if they are human beings. The recklessness of everyone, money is spent like kings disburse it, and the ladies dress like princesses. It contains more theaters, churches, gambling saloons and houses of public resort than any city of its size in the world. It is just a fast city, almost too fast, as the crashing of the banks too truly indicates, but nobody seems to be interrupted in their mad career and everything goes on full tilt as before. You may be sure that I came away poorer than I went, at least so far as money is concerned, and I am very moderate, for you know I have not been brought up in an extravagant school. I was therefore rather [more] pleased than otherwise to get back to the quiet and obscurity of Fort Orford and shall probably have the good sense to remain content where I am until the powers that be see fit to send me elsewhere. I have laid in a supply of books, music, colors &c. which will serve to pass the time even if I do not learn anything. The coming summer however I expect to spend in the mountains making a reconnaissance of the country, which duty I shall like very much, as I am fond of field service occasionally, particularly after having rested here so long as I have. I saw Genl. Wool when I was down, to whom I reported the state and condition of my post, and he was so well pleased with my services that he does not contemplate removing me, notwithstanding that the officers of my regiment have been making very strenuous efforts to have me returned to my proper command, which is at present at Fort Vancouver. But the General objects, so I see no prospects of getting away from this post whilst I remain in the country. I do not object, for when I know how long I am to remain in a place, I know what to do to make myself comfortable. At present I am leading a quiet and domestic life. I have comparatively little duty to do; the Indians give me no trouble, and the whites have learned to behave themselves. I have twenty-four men whom I manage to keep in pretty good order. I have pigs, goats & chickens & a nice garden so that my table if not elegantly supplied is at least abundantly provided for. I have a pleasant companion in the post surgeon, and being the only officers at the post of course [we] are obliged to be very sociable. We have no society whatever. There is one young lady in the place, but she is said to be engaged, and of course it would be cruelty to captivate her, or folly for us to fall in love under such circumstances. It is true we have plenty of Indians who undoubtedly belong to the first families of Oregon, but speaking a different language and possessing different customs and manners as they do we find it rather difficult to assimilate ourselves to their society, particularly in the matter of dress, for though a simple blanket forms a very picturesque costume, still it requires some experience to adjust it properly, besides among them the ladies do all the work and it shocks our idea of gallantry to have them carrying immense baskets of fish or potatoes whilst we walked with them carrying nothing. I must close. Remember your promise to write, and give my love to your father and mother and write soon too.
    Your cousin August.
Beinecke Library


Port Orford       
    I share quarters with Dr. [John] Milhau, a surgeon in the army, and who is my only associate. There is but one young lady in the post, who is quite pretty and intelligent. It is a pleasure for us to go and see her occasionally and to take her riding when the weather permits. The wonder is that we don't fall in love. The Dr. says I am and I say he is, but everyone else says she is going to marry Mr. Dart, who keeps a store in the place. We do not often go hunting, for game is scarce, but plenty of fish are to be caught in the bay. The Dr. and I mess together and have a soldier to cook for us. In Jan. our rum bill was $42, but everything is very dear, prices very different from those in the East, beef 25 cts. lb., butter 75 cts., eggs 1.50, potatoes 4 cts.
    When the steamer stops on the way up, we have time to answer our letters by the time she stops on her return, but very often when it is stormy she doesn't put in and then we must wait until her next trip.
June 1855       
    I saw Gen. Wool and reported to him the condition of post. He seems so well pleased with my services that there is no prospect of my being relieved for a long time.
    The surgeon has been ordered to the Rocky Mts. for the summer, and I am entirely alone.
    The mail goes every two weeks.
    We arrived at Port Orford one night, and disembarked Lieut. Kautz and eight mules belonging to the 4th U.S. Infantry. Lieut. Kautz commands the military post at Port Orford I was told, but what the military post is I am not informed; probably they use it to tie the mules to. Port Orford is a small place, a very small place. I heard that the Columbia once got up steam and left here without casting off one of her stern lines, and accidentally towed the whole city up the coast about forty miles before the line parted, very much to the confusion of one Tichenor, who, having been elected a member of the Oregon Legislature, sailed off in a small schooner to find that body, but being unsuccessful attempted to return to Port Orford but did not get in for some time owing to that accident.
Signed "Amos Butterfield" but attributed to "Prof. Phoenix" in the San Francisco Herald, reprinted in "A Trip to Oregon," Puget Sound Courier, Steilacoom, Washington, November 16, 1855, page 1


    Port Orford, a point some distance farther north, is the depot and landing place of the Gold Beach and Rogue River miners. It is pretty well "gone in" now, though there are some fifty persons yet remaining. There is also a company of the 3rd artillery garrisoned there. They are under the command of Lieut. Kautz. A party of ten from the garrison, under the same officer, recently had an engagement with the Indians on Rogue River. Privates Gill and Adams were killed and Lieut. Kautz and private Egly wounded. Lieut. Kautz had a thick memorandum book in his pocket which saved his life as the ball struck him full in the breast. The Indians were armed with good rifles and are well provided with ammunition, which articles it is supposed are obtained through the Indians who hang about the towns.
'Oregon Correspondence," Daily Alta California, San Francisco, January 4, 1856, page 1
INDIAN HUNTING IN WASHINGTON TERRITORY.
PORTER'S PRAIRIE, W.T., May 28, 1856.
    Dear "Spirit"--I promised to give you some of our experience in hunting Indians--a kind of game not often treated of in your journal--and as the sport has become rather universal on this coast, every bit of experience will be of service to the amateur or professional hunter. We have few works on the subject, and those who know most of the nature and habits of the Indian have not belonged to a class capable of recording their experience. Boone, perhaps, was as well posted as anyone on the species that inhabited the early West, but as the character of the animal changes very materially with locality, his experience, if intelligibly recorded, might not be of much service here. The rules laid down in Wayne's life apply tolerably well, but most people find it very difficult to follow them; a charge requires more nerve than is usually possessed by the majority of Indian hunters on this coast.
    The Indian of this locality is of two kinds--the "Stick" Indian, or those that live in the woods and in the hills away from the waters, living upon game, roots, berries, and the salmon and trout that inhabit the streams, and the "Chuck" Indian, or those living on the waters of the Sound, feeding upon fish of all kinds, clams, &c., and who travel principally in canoes on the water. The former is much the wildest, and most difficult to capture, being possessed of greater courage, powers of endurance, and sagacity. The former, ever on the alert, can rarely be entrapped, or taken by surprise, and the hunter is frequently caught in a snare himself whilst preparing one for his prey. Living in thickets and swamps, the pursuer may receive a bullet from an apparently harmless hazel bush, and the experienced hunter regards "each bush as an enemy," and approaches it accordingly. The "Chuck" Indian trusts to flight, and his speed in moving over the trackless waters in his light canoe. They are mostly peaceable, or tame, and the Stick Indian has been the principal object of our excursions. The game has, however, been driven out of this immediate country, and the captures have been comparatively few, not greatly exceeding in number the hunters that have been killed in making the captives. A large herd crossed the mountains last winter, and I am here watching their return. I think, however, that they are too sagacious to return at present. We have caught a great many females or squaws and young, but the bucks have generally made their escape, I don't know whether in obedience to some game law for perpetuating the species, or perhaps a hunter's superstition, but the females and young have generally been spared and sent over to the reservations among the tame Indians, who are expected to retain them, and keep them from running away.
    The Buck Indian of this country is a long-haired animal, not at all cleanly in his appearance, though he washes daily when water can be had. When hunted, lives anywhere in temporary brush houses, but undisturbed builds himself a more substantial habitation on some prairie or stream, and prefers a point having the advantage of both. When put at bay, he not unfrequently is almost naked, and painted with streaks of red and black paint, and a fancy headdress. On gala occasions he rigs out in the most fanciful dress he has of beads, many-colored ribbons, red blanket, &c. For ordinary comfort, however, he is careless, and adopts whatever dress he can obtain conveniently, and I have seen a full-grown buck with nothing on except a broadcloth dress coat, and a small buck with a large man's waistcoat, through which his naked arms and legs protruded without any show of modesty, and a young female is as vain as any belle if she can get a new red-flannel shirt. They are not noted for much grace or beauty among them, though some fine specimens exist.
    The most noted, perhaps, for physical superiority is Kitsap, a Ki-ha-tat by descent, possessing a tall, elegant, and athletic frame, a prepossessing countenance, and great courage. He is, perhaps, one of their greatest warriors. He has great influence as a leader among his followers, not so much on account of any of these qualities as some supernatural powers that he has made them believe he possesses. After a battle he returns to his camp with his blanket pierced full of holes, and out of which he shakes the bullets in the greatest profusion. He says that he cannot be killed by a bullet, and to prove it he discharged a musket upon his own person, the ball piercing entirely through his chest, from which he recovered without any serious illness. As I was not present at the performance I cannot vouch for the truth of the above, but the Indians believe it implicitly whether your readers will or not. Kitsap, in consequence, rules his people with an arbitrary power; makes them pay tribute to him, and cuffs and knocks them about at his pleasure. They believe he cannot be killed, and dare not resent his persecution. To increase this influence, in some fight with the volunteers he was shot in the forehead with one of Allen's revolvers, and the ball did not even penetrate sufficiently to remain in the wound. He, however, is very careful and prudent, and I have not heard of his ever having exposed himself very greatly.
    Kanasket was another of their chiefs, who exercised a similar influence among his followers, with less prudence, however; for he advanced a little too close to our camp on the morning of the 29th of Feb., and received a Minie ball through his back that was too much for his "Te-man-a-wus," as his supernatural influence is called. It is said that he did not anticipate the Minie ball. His death had a very depressing influence on the Indians. With four or five followers he approached within very few yards of the picket guard, and did not see them. He was leveling his rifle to fire into the camp, and had turned and was motioning to his followers to stop, when young Kale, a private in Cmp. D., 9th Infantry, who had seen his approach and patiently bided his time, proved that the Minie ball was not fallible, however ineffectual the round ball may have been. He fell apparently dead, but a couple of men seized him by the heels and dragged him to camp so roughly that he came to life again. " 'Tis Kanasket," said some of the men, as they came up. "Yes, I am Kanasket, and I hate you," and he sang his death song. His brains were blown out to put an end to his sufferings.
    Several grand contests have been had with these inhabitants of the forest, at which the usual number have been killed, viz., thirty, and thirty-five wounded. I have been in several of these fights, and though I have never yet seen a dead Indian, I presume there is a formula to which every fight must correspond, if it cannot exceed. Nearly every fight in the two territories correspond to these numbers. It is well that our friends are so far away, for many of the glorious conflicts we have had might lose much of their eclat by more modest representations of the affairs. The number of Indians that were engaged in the attack on Seattle exceed in numbers three times the amount known to be actively hostile in this vicinity.
    It requires a peculiar talent to gain glory in an Indian war. You must be able to detect Indian signs whether there are any about or not; you must let no howl of wolf, or whistle of a bird, or bear track, pass for what it really is. When you come upon the enemy you must see a great many more Indians than can possibly be in the country; every woman, boy, and girl, must be a warrior. You must not endanger your command by leading them into a close engagement with such an overpowering force. But keep a long way off, and blaze away at every moving twig and bush all day until night, or for two or three days, if they don't haul off to rest and get something to eat; give them plenty of time to carry off the dead and wounded, and in summing up the results, every hat or blanket that was stuck out from behind a tree or log, and that disappeared suddenly on being fired at, must be called a dead Indian; those who get out of sight more slowly are reported wounded. After the fight you call up each man of your command and take their statement separately; the sum total will give the number of killed and wounded; in this way you will never get less than 30 killed and 35 wounded, and if your own command is large a great many more perhaps, as no doubt quite a number of different men saw and fired at the same Indian that fell. Then as you prudently kept your command beyond range, scarcely any are killed and but few wounded; the loss of the enemy will thus exceed your own by an enormous proportion. Thus you will have a tremendous victory; and a little judicious praise of the men, particularly of those who hung back to guard the rear against a flanking movement, and to take care of the wounded; and if you have one or two men who are not influenced by the truth at all, and who are in some way connected with the nearest newspaper, your reputation is made. Everybody in the command will write letters home that of course were not intended for publication, but by some carelessness on the part of their friends the items, if not the original, get into the hands of some editor.
    As big fights, however, are rare, individual reputations may be gained more readily by individual acts. You must have hairbreadth escapes when alone, make your way into camp under the most dangerous circumstances, and report that you were set upon by a large band of Indians, had your horse shot under you, your clothes all pierced with bullet holes, killed half a dozen in a hand-to-hand conflict, and wounded as many more. You must vow vengeance against every Indian you meet, but never molest any except peaceable Indians, who are unarmed, and expect no danger; this is a very gallant thing, when done in the face of public opinion, law, and order. If an Indian is a prisoner and charged with some offense, you go up to him very fiercely and say, "You d----d scoundrel, why did you steal my pantaloons?" The Indian does not understand a word of English, but thinks it is something terrible, looks scared, and shakes his head. This is proof positive of his guilt, and you haul out your revolver and blow his brains out. He can't help himself, for his feet and hands are tied. You have done a determined thing, and are henceforth a made man.
HANS.
The Spirit of the Times, New York, August 2, 1856, page 295


Mucklechute Prairie, Steilacoom, March 1856       
    In time to join the troops as they moved into the field against the hostile Indians.
    On the 1st of March I was sent out to open the road with fifty men. The Inds. attacked us and we fought all day protecting ourselves on the driftwood on a bar in White River. In the afternoon a reinforcement of 50 Inds. [sic] came to my assistance.and we drove the Inds. before us. One man killed and nine wounded, loss of Inds. unknown. I escaped with a flesh wound in right thigh. The Inds. were discovered yesterday a few miles from this camp. The troops set out to attack them and if they meet it may end the war.
    We have better troops to fight with and betters officers than in the previous fights, and if we can only meet the Inds. we can beat them.
Dec. '56       
    Some of the ringleaders in the Ind. war are arrested for trial but legally they can do nothing to them so that the people who have had friends killed take resort to private and personal revenge. An unnecessary excitement is still kept up, notwithstanding that we have whipped the Inds., and they have not perpetrated a single outrage of any kind for nine months.
    An Ind. was killed in the gov. office who had come in and surrendered himself for trial. The man who is supposed to have killed him had lost a father-in-law during the war and believed he was killing the Ind. who killed him, although he could know nothing about it. Some Inds. come from the north in canoes into our possessions and commit depredations and require to be chastised. A party of them was recently attacked by the U.S. steamer Massachusetts and 2 of [them] were killed and 21 wounded and 80 taken prisoners. Quite an achievement for the navy, as they only lost one man.
Aug. 1858       
    Mr. Campbell, commissioner of N.W. boundary survey, has returned from the East and brings an order with him for all to report for duty.
    I will go to Simiahmoo where the commissioner is encamped where we will remain until next spring when [we] will probably go up the Columbia R. to continue survey in Rocky Mts. I do not want to go, as it will keep me west for several years longer.
    The Inds. are all quiet and peaceable, but over the mts. they are still fighting excessively. Lt. Allan was killed a few days ago.
    Two large commands are in the field, one on each side [of] the Columbia.
August V. Kautz Papers


    We had not proceeded far until we met Capt. Smith, who had returned from the Hungry Hill fight with his wounded. There I met old Dutch Kautz for the first time since we parted in 1852 in San Francisco. It seemed he had started out from Fort Orford to find a road to the Rogue River country. He met some Indians in the woods, and saluted them with compliments of the season, when they answered his salute with a volley at close range. One ball struck him in the chest, and would certainly have killed him but for two books he had in his pocket. The ball struck the corner of one, going through it, but was stopped by the other, knocking him down. The soldiers started to run, saying the Lieutenant was killed, but he jumped up and prevented the stampede. As it was a thick, bushy country he had no trouble in getting away. Kautz came into Fort Lane and reported the whole affair to Capt. Smith, who went out with some Regulars and was joined by some Volunteers.
Martin F. Schmitt, ed., General George Crook, His Autobiography, 1946, page 26-29


    GEN. KAUTZ, THE CAPTOR OF JOHN MORGAN.--General August V. Kautz, the leader of the expedition against the Richmond and Weldon Railroad, is a native of Ohio, and a graduate of West Point. Although his name is not familiar in the East, he is well and favorably known among our Western soldiers as the man who captured John Morgan.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 2, 1864, page 2


    GEN. KAUTZ.--This dashing and successful cavalry officer was a few years ago a resident of Washington Territory. He held the position of lieutenant while connected with the army on this coast. His raid into Petersburg, a short time since, was one of the most daring feats of the war, and had he been properly supported by infantry would have been successful. His late raid in the rear of Richmond, on the Danville and Weldon Railroad was eminently successful as far as the destruction of the road was concerned, but attended with quite a loss of men, twelve cannon and his train.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 6, 1864, page 2
A. V. Kautz.
    This brings me to the subject of my chronicle of this day--A. V. Kautz having been at one time stationed at Fort Orford and kept all the Indian tribes within his district in complete subjection with only a detachment of twenty men. From Fort Humboldt up to Coos Bay the traveler and the miner could proceed in entire security, such was the prestige of his name over the numerous tribes of Indians in Southern Oregon and Northern California. Born in Germany, he emigrated to the United States with his parents and was living with them in Ohio at the breaking out of the Mexican War. He was then but a boy, and followed one of the Ohio regiments as a drummer. He distinguished himself to that extent that at the close of the Mexican War as a reward for his bravery he was sent to West Point, where he graduated in 1853 as a second lieutenant of the Fourth Infantry. He served in that capacity in Captain Augur's company until December 1855, when by the death of Lieutenant Slaughter, killed by Indians in Washington Territory, he was promoted [to] first lieutenant of Captain Kane's Company (C), of the same regiment. While in Captain Augur's company, he was entrusted with the command of Fort Orford during 1854 and 1855, and when he joined his new company he was assigned to duty as quartermaster and commissary at Steilacoom. Of his efficiency as a subordinate officer, no better proof can be given than the little pamphlet published by him since the war, and known as "The Company Clerk." To inexperienced volunteer officers it has proved a safe guide, to the regular officers a most valuable reference, and the whole service has been greatly benefited by its publication.
"Reminiscences of a Soldier," Sacramento Daily Union, July 13, 1864, page 3


    GEN. KAUTZ.--This dashing and successful cavalry officer was a few years ago a resident of Washington Territory. He held the position of lieutenant while connected with the army on this coast. His raid into Petersburg, a short time since, was one of the most daring feats of the war, and had he been properly supported by infantry would have been successful. His late raid in the rear of Richmond, on the Danville and Weldon railroad, was eminently successful as far as the destruction of the road was concerned, but attended with quite a loss of men, twelve cannon and his train.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 16, 1864, page 2
Gen. Kautz--His Oregon Adventures
and Something of His Early Life and Character.
    Gen. Kautz, the distinguished cavalry officer and railroad raider of the Army of the Potomac, was formerly stationed at Port Orford in Oregon. Then he belonged to the Fourth Infantry, and was a sous lieutenant. In the summer of 1855, being inclined to do something more than merely go through the spiritless routine of an obscure post with a lieutenant's command, he spent much of his time in exploring the Coast Mountains in search of a road from Port Orford to the Rogue River and Umpqua countries. Here for weeks at a time, with a few men and some pack animals, he was completely isolated from the outside world, and in such times battles might have [been] lost and won without his being aware of it. On the 8th of October of that year the Indian war broke out in Oregon, on Rogue River, on the east side of the Coast Range. Kautz was in the mountains, west and not far from the troubles, nothing dreaming of the war or his proximity to it. But not so the wily Indians, who, well aware of his whereabouts, waylaid him and his party one day in the woods. The first intimation of the approach of the Indians was a volley of rifle shots, and Kautz found himself on the ground badly stunned. Soon recovering himself he arose, and keeping his little party in the protection of the timber, kept his red foes at bay and made his way to a place of safety without material loss. [Two of his men were killed.] Upon subsequent examination he ascertained that at the first fire when he fell to the ground, that he was struck in the left breast with a minié ball [sic]. At the time in the side pocket of his coat there was a small memorandum book about half an inch thick. The ball struck this somewhat slantingly, and after cutting nearly through it passed off under his arm. I saw the memorandum book soon afterwards, and had an account of the adventure from Kautz. My first acquaintance with him was in the early part of that year, when we two journeyed afoot up the beach from Coos Bay to Umpqua, a distance as the crow flies of 18 miles, but which pedestrians who follow the ceaseless curves of the water line, to avoid the deep sand, reckon at about 25 miles--often Irish miles at that. He is a man of brains, square built, of medium height, heavy set and substantial; somewhat fond of an argument, and when well committed, dogged and obstinate--would "cavil with the devil in a matter of right for the ninth part of a hair." But take him all in all, he is an agreeable companion and a man of sterling worth, as I knew him here. He is generally represented as a Buckeye, but this is a mistake. He came with his father when a child from Germany to Baltimore, where his father settled and followed his trade of carpenter. Subsequently he moved to Ohio and settled in Gen. Hamet's district. Young Kautz went to the Mexican War in Hamet's regiment, as a private, and rose to the rank of sergeant of his company. At the close of the war, Hamet procured his nomination to West Point, where he graduated and was appointed brevet 2nd lieutenant 4th Infantry, July 1st, 1852.
"Letter from Portland," San Francisco Bulletin, August 9, 1864, page 1


    MRS. CHARLOTTE KAUTZ, wife of General KAUTZ, and daughter of Ex-Governor TOD, of Ohio, died at Columbus, Mississippi--where her husband is stationed--a day or two ago.
"The News," Cincinnati Commercial, June 5, 1868, page 4
BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL AUGUST V. KAUTZ
Was born in the Grand Duchy of Baden, in Germany, January 5, 1828. Emigrated to America during early childhood, and settled in Georgetown, Brown County, Ohio, in 1834. He was educated at West Point Military Academy, where he graduated in 1852.
    Entered military service as brevet Second Lieutenant Fourth Regiment United States Infantry, July 1, 1852; promoted to full Second Lieutenant, March 24, 1853; to First Lieutenant, December 4, 1855; Captain of the Sixth Regiment United States Cavalry, May 14, 1861; Colonel Second Regiment Ohio Volunteer Cavalry, September 2, 1862; Brigadier-General of Volunteers, May 7, 1864, and Major-General by brevet, October 28, 1864.
    Before entering West Point Kautz entered service as a private soldier in the First Regiment Ohio Volunteers in 1846, and took part in the war with Mexico. Immediately after graduating and joining the regular army, he was sent in an expedition against the Indians on Rogue River, where he remained during 1853. In 1855-6 he was engaged in the Indian wars of Oregon and Washington Territories.
    In the war of the Rebellion Kautz served in the campaign on the Peninsula under McClellan; in Kentucky, Tennessee, Maryland and Western Virginia. Participated in the battles of Monterey, Mexico, September 21, 1846; Hungry Hill, Oregon, November 21, 1855; White River, Washington Territory, March 1, 1856; Hanover Courthouse, Mechanicsville, Malvern Hill, and succeeding battles of the Peninsular campaign in Virginia; and in many contests in Kentucky and Tennessee.
    Commanded the advance of General Hobson's cavalry at Buffington's Island, in which John Morgan's forces were routed and dispersed, July 19, 1863. Commanded cavalry division in Army of the James in a successful raid on the Petersburg and Weldon Railroad, May 8 and 9, 1864; against the Danville and Southside Railroad, May 18, 1864. Commanded First Division Twenty-fifth Army Corps, and was among the first of the National troops to enter Richmond after its evacuation by the Rebels, April 3, 1865.
    In October, 1855, Kautz, in command of a detachment of ten men, was reconnoitering on a military road in Southern Oregon, when the party was ambushed and unexpectedly fired on by a large body of Indians, supposed, until that moment, to be entirely friendly to the whites. A bullet struck Kautz (at that time a Lieutenant in the regular army) in the breast and would doubtless have proved instantly fatal but for a small memorandum-book in his pocket, which turned its course and saved the life of the future cavalry leader. He was wounded in the thigh in a battle with the Indians on White River in Washington Territory, March 1, 1856.
    In 1863 General Kautz was made Chief of Cavalry of the Twenty-third Army Corps, and rendered invaluable service in Kentucky and Tennessee.
    While in camp and on the field General Kautz has written several books on military subjects, which exhibit great learning and unremitting industry. A young man, he has displayed in the past first-class abilities; while his true devotion to the country of his adoption, his courage, efficiency and brilliant successes, indicate much promise for the future. At the close of the Rebellion he quit the volunteer service and resumed his place in the regular army.
C. J. Wood, M.D., Reminiscences of the War; Biography and Personal Sketches of All the Commanding Officers of the Union Army, 1880, page 224


    Of all the officers of whom this discourse is, but one rose from the ranks. This solitary individual was a German, August V. Kautz, who served as a private during the Mexican War, and afterward became lieutenant of infantry. He was stationed in Southern Oregon, mainly at Fort Orford, in 1855, and in the following year was in the Puget Sound region, and participated in Keyes' battle at Puyallup with the Indians. He was uncommonly unfortunate in his bush fighting, having been twice surprised by the savages, and at the Puyallup contest severely wounded. He entered the Rebellion as colonel of an Ohio regiment and was promoted to brigadier in 1864. Distinguished in the siege of Richmond. Was colonel of the 8th Infantry in 1874.
H. O. Lang, "Army Officers in Oregon," Sunday Oregonian, Portland, July 11, 1886, page 2
TALK WITH GEN. A. V. KAUTZ.
A Hero of the War Visits the Scenes of His Early Days--
What he Says of Tacoma.
    General A. V. Kautz, a venerable veteran of the United States army, stationed now at Fort Niobrara, Neb., is at the Tacoma. The general has a most interesting history. He has done service for the government in every state and territory in the union except Florida. He was born in Germany in 1828 and is now in his sixtieth year. At an early age he moved to America with his parents and located in Ohio, near Cincinnati. In his eighteenth year he enlisted in the Mexican War and served until its close. Coming home in 1848, he was at once appointed cadet to West Point from the Seventh Congressional District, the same district from which General Grant had been appointed. He graduated from the military academy in 1852 at the age of twenty-four. He was at once sent to do service upon the Pacific Coast, going to San Francisco the same year he graduated.
    In 1853 he was ordered to the Puget Sound country. On his arrival he built the post at Fort Steilacoom, but was soon ordered to join Captain U. S. Grant's regiment, stationed at Humboldt Bay, Cal. He started at once, via Naches Pass, but never reached his far-off destination. After traveling though a wild and inhospitable country, over mountains and valleys, he arrived at Fort Vancouver, only to be ordered to the Rogue River Indian war in Southern Oregon. He left in haste for the scenes of that war, making the extraordinary march of over 400 miles in thirteen days. He was next stationed at Fort Orford, where he remained two years. In 1856 he was in the famous Indian battle at Hungry Hill, Oregon, and on his return to Orford he was made a first lieutenant.
    In February, 1856, he was ordered again to the Sound country to quell an Indian outbreak and was wounded in the battle of White River. He remained at Fort Steilacoom until 1858, when he went as quartermaster to the escort for the boundary commission relative to the settlement of the northwestern boundary line. The next year General Kautz visited his fatherland in Europe. Returning in 1860 he was ordered to join a detachment of troops at St. Louis and march over the Mullen military road, now the Northern Pacific railroad, to the Pacific Coast. From St. Louis to Fort Benton, Montana, the troops went in a steamer. There they began the long march and arrived at Fort Chehalis the same year, where he remained until 1861, when, upon the breaking out of the Rebellion, he was ordered to the front. In 1862 he served in the Peninsula campaign. In 1863 he was in the western army. In 1864 he was made brigadier  general and was assigned to the charge of Butler's cavalry, in the army of the James, destroying all the railroads south of Richmond.
    Just before the Appomattox campaign, General Kautz was taken from the cavalry and assigned to the First Division of the Twenty-Fourth Army Corps. He marched to Richmond, and was there at the time of the surrender. His last active service in the war was as a member of the military commission that tried the assassins of President Lincoln. After the war the general was again stationed in the West, where he has been ever since, serving in the various states and territories.
    When asked the cause of his present mission to Tacoma the general said: "I am simply here for pleasure and to look after my interests in this section. Since my first arrival upon the Sound, in 1853, I have been unswerving in my confidence in the magnificent future of this country. I bought lots on Tacoma Avenue for $25 apiece in 1880, when most people had lost faith in the 'City of Destiny.' I believe that two great cities will spring up here more suddenly than was ever before known in the history of the world. It is a section of tremendous resources. It is a country of the most splendid possibilities. I will remain here about a month and visit the many scenes which were familiar to me over a quarter of a century ago, returning to my post at Fort Niobrara in June." General Kautz called on auditor Huggins yesterday, who is an old tillicum of early days on the Sound.
Tacoma Daily Ledger, April 26, 1888, page 5
JOHN FLETT'S STORY
About General Kautz and the Indians.
An Interesting Tale of Early Days.
How a Young Army Lieutenant Averted an Indian War.
    John Flett, of Lakeview, Pierce County, one of the early pioneers of this section of country, is always an entertaining man to listen to, relative to the scenes and incidents of frontier life. Mr. Flett said to a Ledger representative yesterday:
    "In the Ledger of May 4 I saw an account of an interview with General Augustus V. Kautz in which mention was made of the different battles in which the general had been engaged, and among them that of Hungry Hill, and I was reminded of what has always seemed to me one of the greatest actions of the General's life.
    "It was in 1855, when General, then Lieutenant, Kautz was stationed at Fort Orford, Oregon. General Joel Palmer, then Superintendent of Indian Affairs in Oregon, had ordered the Indians from Coos Bay to the California line to be collected at the mouth of Rogue River for the purpose of making a treaty. Ben. Wright. a special agent, was to collect those from the California line northward while I was ordered to gather those from Coos Bay southward and to meet him at the Too-Tootenai village, on the south bank of the river. I finished my work in August, and one day with my train filed out of the hills and reached the north bank of the Rogue River. Looking across I saw a crowd of angry men surrounding a house, at the door of which stood Ben. Wright with pistols in his hands, holding the mob in check with these words: 'Gentlemen, you may have the prisoner, but it will be over my dead body.' The prisoner was an Indian, accused of firing at a prominent miner named Buford, and the mob was composed of angry miners.
BENT ON VENGEANCE.
    "They knew, however, that Wright was a determined man and they hesitated. When Wright saw me on the other side of the river he ordered a canoe to bring me over, and after some talk the miners dispersed and the agent turned the Indian over to a detachment of soldiers, who took him to Ellensburg, Oregon, for trial. Here he was found guilty and sentenced to three years in the penitentiary. When the detachment with the prisoner was returning up the river in two boats manned by Indians, it was followed by two boats, one containing three, the other eight white men. As they drew near to our encampment the boats containing the miners approached the others and
BUFORD SHOT THE INDIAN,
who, shackled, was crouching between the knees of the corporal. The latter returned the fire and killed Buford. Both parties then fired another volley, by which two more miners and one Indian were killed. One young chief sprang into the water and, diving, swam ashore and escaped. He hastened to the encampment and told the Indians of the murder of their companions. When the detachment reached our camp the Indians, who to the number of 1000 or more were encamped on both sides of the river, were already in commotion and we could hear their angry voices in hot debate, while now and then could be heard the voices of the women wailing for the dead, mingled with the
CRIES FOR VENGEANCE.
    "At about 10 o'clock we saw that the Indians' fires were out and soon heard the rough voices of the chiefs getting their followers in battle array on the mountainsides above us. It was a night never to be forgotten by that little band of whites who lay every moment expecting to hear the war cry.
    "A messenger was dispatched to Port Orford summoning Lieutenant Kautz to our rescue, but he was thirty miles away, and the trail one of the worst in the country, through heavy timber, over a high mountain, along a swift stream which must be forded fourteen times, and along an ocean beach impassable at high tide. After the messenger started the superintendent sent Ben Wright to
TALK WITH THE INDIANS
on our side of the river, and told me to cross over and see what I could do with the others. We went out into the darkness and, guided by the voices of the chiefs, found them engaged in a war council. After some talk we both succeeded in quieting them for the night. Daylight came at last, and with it some sixty miners armed with rifles, pistols and bowie knives. These miners were enraged at the death of Buford and his companions, who were great favorites among them, and came swearing vengeance against the Indians and against the troops who had
FIRED THE FATAL SHOT.
    "The corporal who killed Buford, as he saw the miners closing round him, said to me, 'Flett, I expect to go this morning, but I'll take two or three with me.' I have sometimes seen two wild animals walking around each other growling, snarling, and ready to spring at the first opportunity, but I never saw anything so terrible in its interest as this scene. In the center the little band of thirteen soldiers, with the twelve men of the department around these the angry miners thirsting for vengeance, and round all, upon the higher ground, the swarm of enraged savages, cruel and bloodthirsty. Just at this crisis, when it seemed that a horrible massacre was inevitable, Lieutenant Kautz rode up attended only by a surgeon. Had he appeared supported by a small body of troops, a conflict would have been precipitated, but his courage in coming alone appealed to all, even the savages, and inclined them to listen to him. First he addressed himself to the miners. In a few kindly, sympathetic, but determined words he appealed to their honor and assured them that justice would be done.
THEN, TURNING TO THE INDIANS,
he spoke as only a brave gentleman could speak. His words were like oil upon troubled waters. Soon the angry hum died away, their set faces relaxed and their warlike demonstrations ceased, and before evening the miners had departed to the mountains and the treaty which was the object of the meeting was concluded. I have often contrasted this action of General Kautz with that of the young lieutenant whose folly precipitated the Modoc War, a struggle which cost over two hundred lives and two millions of treasure, and have always held that General Kautz not only saved the lives of that little band of whites, but also averted a catastrophe which would have resulted in a bloody, cruel and costly war."
Tacoma Daily Ledger, July 7, 1888, page 4
A NEW BRIGADIER GENERAL.
Col. Augustus V. Kautz, Eighth Infantry, Succeeds Gen. John Gibbon.
    WASHINGTON, April 20.--Col. Augustus Valentine Kautz, eighth infantry, was today appointed brigadier general in the place of Gen. John Gibbon, who retired at noon today at the age of sixty-four years. General Kautz is at present president of the small arms board, which meets in New York. The new brigadier general has a brilliant record as a fighter, and is a veteran of several wars. He is a German by birth, and was brought to this country by his parents before he was a year old. When a youth he enlisted as a private in the First Regiment, Ohio Volunteers, and served in the Mexican War. Upon his discharge he was appointed to the United States Military Academy, and upon graduation was assigned to the fourth infantry. He was wounded in the Rogue River wars in 1853-5, and again in the Indian war on Puget Sound in 1856. In 1855 he received his first promotion, becoming first lieutenant, and after that his record is brilliant with achievements. General Scott commended him for gallantry in 1857. In 1861 he was appointed captain in the sixth United States cavalry, and in a year was appointed colonel of the second Ohio cavalry as a result of the hard service in the peninsula campaign and in the seven days' fighting before South Mountain. In 1863 he led a cavalry brigade into Kentucky and took part in the capture of Monticello, for which he was brevetted major. He was instrumental in the pursuit and capture of John Morgan, and in May 1864 was made a brigadier general of volunteers and assigned to the command of the cavalry division, Army of the James, so that in 1864 General Kautz held a rank in the volunteer army similar to that conferred upon him today, twenty-eight years later. For entering Petersburg with a small cavalry command he was brevetted lieutenant colonel. He led the advance in the Wilson raid, which cut off Richmond from the south, was brevetted major general of volunteers in October 1864, and marched into Richmond on the succeeding year, commanding a division of colored troops. He maintained his reputation for gallantry and activity, it appears, for he was brevetted colonel in the regular service for gallant and meritorious service at Darbytown Road, Va., and also brigadier and major general for gallant field service in March 1865. After the Civil War, Lieutenant Colonel Kautz, as he was then, entered vigorously into the Mescalero Apache campaign and succeeded in placing them permanently upon their reservation. In June 1874 he was promoted colonel of the eighth infantry, and in 1875 was placed in command of the department of Arizona. When he relinquished the command of the department of Arizona, Colonel Kautz proceeded to Fort Niobrara, in the northwest [in Nebraska], where he remained with his regiment until detailed for temporary special duty in New York. Whether or not General Kautz will be appointed to the command of the department of Dakota, just vacated by General Ruger, is not yet determined. General Kautz is nearly sixty-four years of age, and will retire on that account January 5 next.
The Sun, Baltimore, April 21, 1891, page 1
GEN. KAUTZ IS HERE.
Distinguished Soldier Stopping in Seattle.
BRILLIANT MILITARY RECORD.
Services on Puget Sound in Days of Indian Wars--Present Condition of Army.
    General August Valentine Kautz, one of the most distinguished soldiers in the United States army, arrived at the Rainier Hotel yesterday. He has many acquaintances in Seattle, and will spend several days here looking over property which he holds in this vicinity.
    General Kautz is a soldierly looking man, not very tall, but compactly built. His hair is almost white, and a mustache and imperial, also turning to the white, somewhat cover the firm lines about his mouth.
    He was born in Ispringen, Baden, Germany, January 5, 1828. In the same year his parents came to this country, and four years later they settled in Brown County, Ohio. The son served as a private in the First Regiment of Ohio volunteers in the Mexican War, and in his discharge was appointed to the United States military academy, where he was graduated in 1852, and assigned to the Fourth Infantry. He served in Oregon and Washington Territory till the Civil War, and in the Rogue River wars of 1853-55, and was wounded in the latter. He was also wounded in the Indian war on Puget Sound in 1856. In 1855 he was promoted first lieutenant, and in 1857 commended by General Scott for gallantry. In 1859-60 he traveled in Europe. He was appointed captain in the Sixth United States cavalry in 1861, and served with the regiment from its organization through the Peninsular campaign of 1862, commanding it during the seven days, until just before South Mountain, when he was made colonel of the Second Ohio cavalry. His regiment was ordered to Camp Chase, Ohio, to remount and refit, and he commanded that post from December 1862 to April 186, 3. when he led a cavalry brigade in Kentucky, forming a part of General Carter's division of the army of the Ohio. He took part in the capture of Monticello, Ky., May 1, 1863, and on June 9 was brevetted major for commanding in an action near there. He was engaged in the pursuit and capture of John Morgan, in July, 1863, preventing him from crossing the Ohio. Afterward Colonel Kautz served as chief of cavalry of the Twenty-third Corps.
    On May 7, 1864, he was made brigadier general of volunteers and assigned to the command of the cavalry division of the army of the James. He entered Petersburg with his small cavalry command June 9, 1864, for which attack he was brevetted lieutenant colonel. Later he led the advance of the Wilson raid, which for more than forty days cut the roads leading into Richmond from the south.
    On October 28, 1864, he was brevetted major general of volunteers, and in March, 1865, was assigned to the command of a division of colored troops, which he marched into Richmond April 3. He was brevetted colonel in the regular service for gallant and meritorious service in action on the Derbyshire road, Virginia, October 7, 1864; also brigadier and major general for gallant service in the field March 13, 1865.
    General Kautz was appointed lieutenant colonel of the Thirty-fourth Infantry in 1866, transferred to the Fifteenth in 1869, and commanded the regiment on the Mexican frontier till 1874. He organized several successful expeditions against the Mescalero Apaches, who had fled from their reservation in 1864, and in 1870-1 he succeeded in establishing the tribe on its reservation, where it has since remained. In June, 1874, he was appointed colonel of the Eighth Infantry, and in 1875 was placed in command of the Department of Arizona. He served in California from 1878 till 1886, and then in Nebraska. He is now stationed in New York, a member of the magazine gun board, appointed last December, which has for its duty the choosing of the best magazine system for the guns used in the fortifications and warships of the United States.
    Genera! Kautz has written extensively on military subjects, being the author of "The Company Clerk," "Customs of Service for Non-Commissioned Officers and Soldiers," "Customs of Service for Officers," and other works.
    "I came to Seattle," said he last evening. " from Walla Walla, where I have been active as a member of the board of inquiry appointed to investigate the lynching affair there. There is nothing to be said in this matter until the matter comes out through the War Department at Washington City.
    "Yes, I was here in 1853, when Seattle was nothing but Yesler's sawmill. The places on the Sound then were Olympia, Steilacoom and Port Townsend. I went through the various Indian fights in this vicinity, and I can assure you that the Puyallups. although they do not now seem very warlike, were then a dangerous foe to meet in the field. In 1857-8 I helped to erect the present building at Fort Steilacoom.
    "After the Civil War I did not get a chance to come back here until in the eighties, but lately I have visited the Sound country quite regularly. In those early days I foresaw the ultimate development of the country and made a number of investments here. I bought lots in Steilacoom when that seemed the most prominent point, and since that I have invested in several of the places on the Sound. In January next I shall be put on the retirement list, and then I hope to give more attention to my property here.
    "My belief is that ultimately the headquarters for the Department of the Columbia must be removed to some point on Puget Sound. The increase of population which is reasonably to be expected for the Sound country must make that a mere matter of policy before very long. The same reason exists why the Puget Sound region should be fortified. It is not now as important as New York City, but it is all the time becoming more populous, and, in case of war with Chile or Great Britain, for instance, it would be necessary to fortify it at once.
    "From time to time I have expressed my opinion pretty strongly as to the means to be taken to improve the morale of the army and prevent desertions. The trouble is that we are enlisting the wrong kind of men--those but little better than tramps. They come into the army because they are hungry and out of work, but the roving spirit is strong in them, and as soon as they weary of the routine of life at a post they run away.
    "I should make every post a military school something like West Point, only not quite so elaborate. Then I should enlist young men, train them for five years in military tactics and other studies as at West Point. After that I should turn them out, ready to be made into officers in time of need. Such a system would cost but little more than the present one, and would immensely improve the tone of the service. Then there would be competitive examinations for admission to the army. Yes, I believe in the school system."
Seattle Post-Intelligencer, May 31, 1891, page 8


    FORT SPOKANE, Wash., Sept. 1.--(Special Correspondence.)--The command of this post was mustered on the 31st of August at 7 o'clock in the morning in undress uniform. The weather has been so very warm and the dust on the parade so objectionable that drills have been shortened to one-half hour and full dress coats and helmets will be dispensed with at parade in the future. The mercury was up all the way from 94 to 104 daily, and we feel sure that the enemies of our country will not venture out in this heat to disturb us, so we will rest upon our laurels.
    Brigadier General August V. Kautz, commanding the military department of the Columbia, accompanied by Lieutenant Richardson, of the 8th Infantry, of his staff made a formal inspection of the post and command on his arrival here last Friday. It is not known that this inspection is made with any other view than to acquaint General Kautz with the capacity of the post in a general way, for he has examined most of the posts of this department in similar manner since his recent assumption of command; still many rumors are afloat concerning the intention of sending a part or the whole of the Walla Walla garrison here. There are three empty barracks, an unused cavalry stable, and a large number of officers' quarters also vacant. The trials following the killing of Hunt have been expensive to the community of Walla Walla, and it may be considered best to change the garrison or remove it entirely.
    General Kautz, upon his graduation from the military academy, was in 1852 assigned to the regiment that furnishes the garrison here--Fourth Infantry. In March 24, 1853, he was appointed second lieutenant and participated in the Rogue River expedition against the Indians in 1852. The promotion to first lieutenant followed in December 4, 1855, and he was in action against Indians at White River, W.T. in 1856, being appointed acting quartermaster to the northwestern boundary commission in 1859. In 1861 he left the Fourth Infantry and received his captaincy in the Sixth Cavalry, being brevet major general U.S.A, March 1865. His war record is a glorious one, and he was one of the members of the military commission which tried the assassins of President Lincoln. In January the general will be retired, and his service in the army will have begun and ended at the historic Vancouver barracks.
"Our Military Neighbors," Spokane Daily Chronicle, September 2, 1891, page 1




    Brigadier General August V. Kautz, U.S.A., is a guest of the Arlington. He will remain in the city several days, and on the Coast all the winter. "I consider Washington my home," said he, "although my family are now sojourning in Europe. I began and ended my forty years' service in the army at the same post--Fort Vancouver, in this state. I came out here in 1852, and was retired last January." During Gen. Kautz's early service in this section he participated in the Rogue River and Puget Sound Indian wars and was twice wounded. At the time of his retirement he commanded the Department of the Columbia, succeeding Gen. Gibbon. He has large real estate interests in Seattle and other portions of this state.
"The Passing Throng," Seattle Post-Intelligencer, January 19, 1893, page 4
BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL AUGUST V. KAUTZ.
    GENERAL KAUTZ was born on the 5th of January, 1828, in the valley of Ispringen, near Potzheim, Grand Duchy of Baden, Germany. Six months after his birth his father emigrated to the United States, and after a residence of several years in Baltimore, Maryland, moved to Georgetown, Brown County, Ohio, and in 1844 to the Ohio River, near Ripley, where he still resides. The General is the oldest of a family of seven children. His father was a carpenter, and sustained his family by his trade until his removal from Georgetown, when he commenced the production of Catawba wine. From his eleventh to his fourteenth year the General was employed principally in the printing offices in Georgetown, and from his fifteenth to his eighteenth year he assisted his father at his trade and at farming.
    In June, 1846, young Kautz enlisted as a private in company G, First Ohio Volunteers, Colonel Alex. M. Mitchell commanding. The company was raised under the patronage of Thomas L. Hamer, afterward Brigadier-General, and went to Mexico. The regiment was assigned to the First Volunteer Field Brigade, General Hamer commanding. Kautz, then only eighteen years old, served out his enlistment of twelve months, and was with his regiment at the battle of Monterey. In 1848 he was appointed a cadet at the West Point Military Academy by Jonathan D. Morris, then member of Congress from the Sixth Congressional District. In 1852 he graduated, and was appointed Brevet Second-Lieutenant in the Fourth United States Infantry. He joined the regiment at Fort Vancouver, Oregon, in December, 1852, and served with it until the commencement of the rebellion. In the spring of 1853 he was ordered to Fort Steilacoom, on Puget Sound. In May of the same year he was sent down the sound in a boat to visit the Indians. After a month's absence, he returned and found that he had been promoted to be a full Second-Lieutenant, and had been ordered to join his company at Humboldt Bay, California.
    He set out by land, in July, with a saddle horse and a pack horse. He crossed the mountains through the Naches Pass, and was joined by two men who accompanied him to trade with the Indians. The greater portion of the distance to the Dalles, on the Columbia River, was made on foot, as one of the horses had given out and had to be abandoned. This region was at that time unexplored. At the Dalles he procured another horse, recrossed the mountains by the Emigrant Road, and came into Fort Vancouver at the time that an outbreak among the Rogue River Indians occurred, and a piece of artillery was called for by Captain Alden. The distance was nearly four hundred miles, but Kautz was dispatched with a sergeant and a twelve-pounder brass field howitzer and caisson. The march was made in thirteen days, which was a remarkably short time, considering the condition of the roads and the mountainous country over which he passed. When he reached Rogue River an engagement had taken place, and the Indians had agreed to treat. Lieutenant Kautz remained a few weeks, and then continued his journey to San Francisco, where he arrived in October.
    At San Francisco he received orders to report to Fort Orford, which is situated on the Oregon coast near the California line, and he remained in command of this post until January, 1856. Lieutenant Kautz's term of service at this post was a continuous series of interesting adventures. On the 25th of October, 1855, while making a reconnaissance through the Coast Range of mountains, from Fort Orford to Fort Lane with forty men, he encountered a large force of hostile Indians. In an engagement with these Indians, Kautz lost two men and all his equipments, and narrowly escaped with his life. He was hit with a heavy rifle ball in his right side, and it was only prevented from proving fatal by striking a memorandum book in his breast pocket.
    In December, 1855, he was promoted to a First-Lieutenant, and joined his company at Fort Steilacoom in the latter part of February, 1856, in time to take part in an expedition against the Indians, under Lieutenant-Colonel Casey, Ninth Infantry, in which he was wounded again in an engagement on White River, Washington Territory. He served as Quartermaster at Fort Steilacoom until October, 1858, when he was ordered to the North-Western Boundary Commission. In the spring of 1859 Lieutenant Kautz received a leave of absence, which was extended for a year, and during that time he visited Europe and spent the most of his leave on the Continent. Upon his return to the United States he was ordered immediately to accompany an expedition to convey recruits to Washington Territory. He joined his company at Fort Chehalis, on Gray's Harbor, Washington Territory, in December, 1860.
    In May, 1861, he was detailed on recruiting service for his regiment, and arrived in New York a week after the battle of Bull Run. In the meantime he had been appointed Captain in the Sixth Cavalry, and he joined the regiment at Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The organization of the regiment was completed at Washington City during the winter of 1861-2, and it made the campaign with the Army of the Potomac on the peninsula. Just before the seven days' fighting Kautz succeeded to the command of the regiment, and continued in command of it until the following September, when he was appointed Colonel of the Second Ohio Cavalry. He joined the regiment at Fort Scott, Kansas in October, and soon after his arrival procured an order for the regiment to return to Ohio to refit and remount. The winter of 1862-3 was spent in reorganizing, and in April, 1863, Kautz proceeded with the regiment to Kentucky. During the spring and summer he participated in several sharp engagements at and near Monticello, and a part of the time commanded a brigade composed of the Second and Seventh Ohio Cavalry. He was in the pursuit of John Morgan through Kentucky, Indiana, and Ohio, and Morgan's defeat at Buffington Island was due, in a great measure, to his judicious attack. Upon returning to Kentucky, Kautz was appointed Chief of Cavalry of the Twenty-Third Corps, and served in that capacity through Burnside's campaign in East Tennessee and through the siege of Knoxville. In January, 1864, he was ordered to take charge of the organization of the East Tennessee recruits at Camp Nelson, Kentucky; but, before he could enter upon his work at Camp Nelson, he was ordered to Washington City for duty in the Cavalry Bureau, where he remained until just previous to the great campaign of that year against Richmond, when he was commissioned a Brigadier-General and ordered to the Army of the James.
    He took command of the cavalry of that army at Portsmouth, Virginia, in the latter part of April. His force consisted of about two thousand eight hundred men. On the 8th of May he set out to cut the Weldon and Petersburg Railroad, and on the 7th he struck the road at Stony Creek Station, captured the guard and burned the bridge, water tank and buildings. The next day he burned the Notaway Bridge, destroyed the next station south and captured more prisoners; amounting, with those taken the day previous, to one hundred and forty. He arrived with his prisoners at City Point on the 10th, his expedition having proved entirely successful. On the 11th of May he crossed over to Bermuda Hundred, and on the 12th started again and struck the Richmond and Danville Road at Coal Fields, ten miles west of Richmond; he destroyed the station, and also Powhatan and Chula stations. He then crossed over to the South Side Road and destroyed Wilson, Mellville, and Black's and White's stations, and returned to City Point by way of Jarratt's Station. This expedition was as successful as the first. On the 9th of June General Butler planned an expedition to surprise Petersburg. General Gillmore, commanding the principal force, was to make a demonstration and occupy the enemy while General Kautz, with his cavalry force, about thirteen hundred strong, was to force the entrenchment at some undefended point. General Kautz succeeded in carrying the fortifications on the Jerusalem Plank Road, and penetrated to the town; but for want of proper support he found it necessary to withdraw. On the 15th of June General W. F. Smith made a similar cooperative movement with Kautz, with the difference that Smith was to make the actual attack and Kautz the demonstration. The result was the capture of two miles of the Rebel works by General Smith. On the 21st of June an expedition under General Wilson, composed of his own and Kautz's division, started to destroy the Petersburg and Lynchburg, and the Richmond and Danville railroads. The expedition was successful in destroying the railroads, but in returning it narrowly escaped capture at Ream's Station. The main part of the force escaped, but the artillery and a few baggage wagons and ambulances, with the sick and wounded, fell into the hands of the enemy. Kautz, trusting to his woodcraft, struck across the country, ignoring roads, and slept within the National lines that night. Wilson, taking a more circuitous route, did not get in until the third day. During this raid General Kautz was engaged, sharply, at Roanoke Bridge and at Reum's Station.
    During the summer of 1864 General Kautz served alternately with the Army of the James and the Army of the Potomac. He participated in the movement by the right under General Hancock, and during August and the greater portion of September he picketed the rear of the Army of the Potomac, from the James River to the left. On the 29th of September he joined in the movement that resulted in the capture of Fort Harrison, at Chapin's Farm. He made a demonstration along the interior line of the enemy's entrenchments in front of Richmond, and penetrated nearer to the city than any National troops had ever gone, except as prisoners. After the capture of Chapin's Farm, General Kautz, with his cavalry, was entrusted with the protection of the right flank of the Army of the James. His headquarters were at Darleytown, and his pickets extended to the Charles City Road. The position was an unfortunate one, as there was a swamp in the rear of the command, and only one indifferent road through it. General Kautz reported to his superior the error in the position, but received no authority to change it; he therefore strengthened himself as best he could. On the night of the 6th of October two refugees from Richmond brought him intelligence which convinced him that he would be attacked in the morning. He reported the facts to superior headquarters, and prepared his own command for battle. Before daylight, on the morning of the 7th, the enemy appeared in force. In the meantime Kautz had received no instructions. Two divisions of infantry, perhaps numbering six thousand men, attacked his extended line, imperfectly protected and only fifteen hundred strong; and one-fourth of these were required to hold the horses, while the remaining three-fourths dismounted and fought with carbines. The Rebel cavalry, quite as strong as his own, turned his right flank and placed themselves between Kautz and the Army of the James, only two miles away. General Kautz held his ground until eight o'clock, A.M., and then fell back through the Rebel cavalry. This obstinate resistance gave the Army of the James time to prepare for defense, and the Rebels were repulsed with heavy loss. A few days after this General Kautz was brevetted a Major-General of Volunteers.
    On the 13th of October General Kautz participated in a reconnaissance, under General Terry, in which the forces engaged sustained a heavy loss. During the winter General Kautz, with his cavalry division, guarded the right flank of the Army of the James. On the 10th of December the enemy made a reconnaissance down the Darleytown Road, but the position taken by the cavalry was fortified so strongly that the Rebels did not reach the entrenchments occupied by the infantry. General Kautz devoted himself to the preparation of his cavalry for the spring campaign; and, notwithstanding the scarcity of forage, the command was reported by the Inspectors to be in fine condition; but in March, 1865, he was relieved from the cavalry division, and assigned the command of the First Division of the Twenty-Fifth Corps. The division was composed entirely of colored troops, and had an actual strength of about seven thousand men. On the 3rd of April Kautz marched into Richmond under Weitzel, and remained, in command of his division, in the vicinity of Richmond and Petersburg until May, when he was ordered to Washington City, as a member of the Military Commission that convened for the trial of the assassins of President Lincoln. When the commission was dissolved he proceeded to his home, and remained until an order was issued in January, 1866, mustering out all general officers of the volunteer service. He subsequently served on General Sheridan's staff as Acting Judge-Advocate of the Military Division of the Gulf.
    Among General Kautz's classmates from Ohio were Generals Sheridan, Crook, Stanley, C. R. Woods, and McCook. These were all the Ohioans of the class that were alive at the time of the rebellion, and all were Major-Generals or Brevet Major-Generals in the National army. General Kautz was married on September 14, 1865, to Miss Charlotte Tod, eldest daughter of ex-Governor Tod. During the war he prepared the following works on military administration: The Company Clerk; Customs of Service for Non-commissioned Officers and Soldiers, and Customs of Service for Officers of the Army. The first was very successful, the second was issued near the close of the war, and the latter has been issued since the war has closed.
Whitelaw Reid, Ohio in the War, Her Statesmen, Generals and Soldiers, Vol. I, Cincinnati 1895, pages 844-848
GEN. A. V. KAUTZ DEAD.
The Old Pioneer Passes Away in Seattle.
ILL ONLY A FEW HOURS.
A Prominent Indian Fighter and War Veteran.
    Seattle, Sept. 5.--Gen. A. V. Kautz passed away at the family residence, on James Street, a few minutes past 10 o'clock last evening, after an illness of only twenty-three hours. He died, after suffering intense pain, with a smile on his face, and he retained consciousness until nearly the last instant. The cause of his death was an obstruction of the bowels.
    August Valentine Kautz was born in Ispringen, Baden, Germany, January 5, 1828. With his parents he emigrated to this country, settling in Bowen County, Ohio, in 1832. When the war was declared against Mexico and the muster for troops under Scott, Taylor, Worth and Wool began, Kautz, who was a mere boy, volunteered as a private, June 8, 1846, and went to the front with the First Ohio Infantry. So creditable were the boy's services in the land of the Montezumas that in 1848 he was appointed a cadet at the United States Military Academy, and was graduated with honors in 1852. Assigned to the Fourth Infantry, Grant's regiment, he passed most of his life from the day of his graduation to the outbreak of the Civil War in the territories of Oregon and Washington. Like Grant and Sherman, he won distinction in the Pacific Northwest. He took part in the Rogue River Indian War, in Southern Oregon, in 1853-55, was wounded, and was stationed at Steilacoom during the trouble with Great Britain over San Juan Island. He was again wounded by Indians during the Puget Sound Indian War of 1856. December 4, 1855, he was promoted to be first lieutenant, and was in 1857 commended in a general order by Gen. Winfield Scott, commanding the army, for special acts of bravery.
    He was appointed captain in the Sixth United States Cavalry in 1861, and served with the regiment from its organization through the peninsular campaign of 1862, commanding during the seven days until just before Stony Mountain, when he was appointed colonel of [the] Second Ohio Cavalry. On May 7, 1864, he was made brigadier general of volunteers and assigned to the command of the cavalry division of the army of the James.
    Gen. Kautz was the author of the "Company Clerk," "Customs of Service for Noncommissioned Officers and Soldiers," and "Customs of Service for Officers."
    Gen. Kautz leaves one son, now in the East, and two daughters.
Morning Olympian, Olympia, Washington, September 5, 1895, page 4
THE OBITUARY RECORD.
Brigadier General A. V. Kautz.
    Brigadier General A. V. Kautz, on the retired list of the United States army, died at Seattle, Wash., Sept. 4.
    Brigadier General August Valentine Kautz was born at Ispringen, Baden, on Jan. 5, 1828, and came to this country with his parents the same year. They went to Brown County, Ohio, in 1832. He served as a private in the First Regiment of Ohio Volunteers in the Mexican War, though hardly more than a lad, and on his discharge was appointed as a cadet in the military academy at West Point, from which he was graduated in 1852. He was assigned to the Fourth Infantry and served in Oregon and Washington until 1859, being wounded in the Rogue River and Puget Sound Indian wars. He was promoted to a first lieutenancy and commended by General Scott for bravery in these wars. In 1859-'60 he traveled in Europe, returning at the outbreak of the Civil War.
    He was appointed captain in the Sixth Cavalry in 1861, and served with the regiment through the peninsular campaign of 1862, commanding it during the seven days' fighting. Just before the battle of South Mountain he was appointed colonel of the Seventh Ohio Cavalry and ordered to Camp Chase, Ohio, which post he commanded until April, 1863. He then led a cavalry brigade into Kentucky as a part of General Carter's division, and took part in the capture of Monticello, for which he received the brevet rank of major. He engaged in the pursuit and capture of the guerrilla Morgan in July, 1863, after which he served as chief of cavalry of the Twenty-Third Corps. On May 7, 1864, he was made brigadier general of volunteers and assigned to the command of the cavalry of the army of the James. He attacked and entered Petersburg with a small force of cavalry in June, 1864, for which he received the brevet rank of the lieutenant colonel. He also led the advance of the Wilson raid, which cut the railroads leading into Richmond from the south for several weeks. He received the brevet rank of colonel in the regular army for his part in the action on the Darbytown road, Virginia, in October, 1864. He was brevetted major general of volunteers in October, 1864, and in March, 1865 was placed in command of a division of colored troops, which marched into Richmond under his lead on April 3. A short time beforehand he had received the brevet ranks of brigadier and major general in the regular army for distinguished services in the field during the war.
    After the war closed General Kautz was appointed lieutenant colonel of the Thirty-Fourth Infantry, and was transferred to the Fifteenth Infantry in 1869, commanding it on the New Mexican frontier until 1874. During this period he led several successful expeditions against the Mescalero Apaches, putting them on their reservation in 1870-71, where they have since remained. In 1874 he was promoted to be colonel of the Eighteenth Infantry, and in 1875 was placed in command of the Department of Arizona. He served in California from 1878 to 1886, and in 1887 in Nebraska. Subsequently he was made president of the Small Arms Board, and met with it in New York City in 1891. On April 20, 1891, he was appointed brigadier general, in place of General Gibbon, and was retired on account of age on Jan. 5, 1892.
Sunday Inter Ocean, Chicago, September 8, 1895, page 3
GENERAL KAUTZ DEAD
The Veteran of Two Wars Succumbs to Stomach Paralysis.
    SEATTLE, Wash., Sept. 6.--Brigadier General A. V. Kautz, retired, died here last night of paralysis of the stomach. General Kautz had spent a lifetime as a soldier. He went to the Mexican War with the First Regiment of Ohio volunteers and on his return was appointed a cadet at West Point. When he graduated in 1852 he was assigned to the Fourth Infantry and did duty in Oregon and Washington territories until the Civil War. In the Rogue River troubles from 1853 to 1855 he was badly wounded. He also participated in the Indian war on Puget Sound in 1856. After a year in Europe he was appointed a captain in 1861 and went to the front. From the infantry he was transferred to a cavalry command and was brevetted a major for valiant commanding in the capture of Monticello, Ky., in May, 1863. He rose gradually in rank until he became major general of volunteers and then was transferred to the regular service. He received several brevets for gallant and meritorious services and at the close of the war had the rank of lieutenant colonel. Since the war General Kautz had served on the New Mexican frontier, where he kept in check troublesome Apaches in Arizona, California and Nebraska. He was the author of several works. Germany was his place of birth. He was 67 years old.
St. Paul Republican, St. Paul, Nebraska, September 11, 1895, page 8
A Rogue River Indian Fighter.
    Gen. A. V. Kautz, who did military service in the Rogue River Indian wars, died recently, and now comes along two Puyallup Indians contesting his will and declare that while stationed in that country as a lieutenant the general lived with their mother, a full-blooded Puyallup Indian, and that he never made any secret of the relationship.
    The young half-breeds' names are Nugent and Augustus Kautz, and they will claim a share of the general's property, which was bequeathed to his widow and her two daughters. They are both bright and well educated, Nugent being industrial teacher at the Warm Springs Reservation, in Oregon. Gen. Kautz seems to have studied in his earlier life the tactics of Gen. Grant and other illustrious busters.
Valley Record, Ashland, October 17, 1895, page 1
A Reminiscence of General Kautz.
    One of our subscribers in Southern Oregon, Mr. A. Schamoni of Grants Pass, the chief town of Josephine County there, makes the following interesting report to us:
    "The other day I met an old man from the 1840s, one of those who came to the Pacific in 1849 during the gold fever. He was quite taciturn. But I learned from him that he had taken part in the old Indian wars in what was then the Oregon Territory. And when I questioned him, he then told me the following from his memories: In those war times forty years ago he became acquainted with the later famous General Kautz, who was sent to this area of ​​Oregon as a young officer with a detachment of gold guards from the standing army to fight against rebellious Indians; and he was there when Kautz was almost wounded in a battle with the Indians not far from today's Grants Pass at the foot of Hungry Hill."
    This interesting memory of the old pioneer and Indian fighter fits the story exactly. In 1852, after graduating from West Point, Kautz became a lieutenant in the Fourth Infantry Regiment. With part of this regiment he soon came to Oregon and took part in the "Rogue River Wars" against the Indians from 1853 to 1855. These battles received this name because they mostly took place in the valley of the Rogue River, on the western side. It rises from the slope of the Cascade Mountains and, after a westerly course of 220 miles, flows into the Pacific near Ellensburg in today's Washington [sic] State. Grants Pass is also located in the valley of the Rogue River.
    In one of those battles, Kautz was seriously wounded. Promoted to first lieutenant and barely healed, Kautz also took part in the Indian campaigns in 1856 in what was then Washington Territory, in the Puget Sound area, and he was also seriously wounded in one of the previous battles.
    Because of his heroic and skilful behavior in those Indian conflicts, Kautz received a warm official commendation in a daily order from the then General Scott. This was his second commendation for great bravery in the field. He received the first at the end of the American war, in which he had taken part as a youth in an Ohio volunteer regiment, and this first commendation led to his admission to the military academy at West Point.
    When the Civil War broke out, Kautz, in keeping with his inclinations, was transferred to cavalry, quickly rising to the position of distinguished cavalry general, and in the bold forays he undertook, the experience he had gained in Indian wars came in handy.
Illinois Staats Zeitung, Chicago, November 27, 1895, page 5
Eine Erinnerung an General Kautz.
    Einer unserer Abonnenten im füdlichen Oregon, Herr A. Schamoni zu Grants Pass, dem Hauptorte des dortigen County Josephine macht uns folgende interessante Mittheilung:
    "Neulich traf ich einen alten Neuaundvierziger, b.h. einen von denen, weiche im Jahre 1849 während des Goldfiebers nach dem Pacific kamen. Er war ziemlich wortkarg. Doch erfuhr ich von ihm, dass er die alten Indianerkriege im damaligen Territorium Oregon mitgemacht habe. Und auf mein Befragen theilte er mir dann aus seinen Erinnerungen Folgendes mit: Er fei in jenen Kriegszeiten vor vierzzig Jahren genau mit dem späteren verühmten General Kautz bekannt geworden; dieser sei damals als junger Offizier mit einer Abtheilung Goldaten des stehenden Heeres nach dieser Gegend Oregon's geschickt worden, um gegen rebellische Indianer zu kämpfen; und er sei babei gewesen, wie Kautz in einem Gefechte mit den Indianern nicht weit vom heutigen Grants Pass am Fusse des Hungerberges schier verwundet worden."
    Diese interesante Erinnerung bes alten Pioniers und Indianerbekämpfers stimmt ganz genau mit der Geschichte überein. Kautz war im Jahre 1852, nachdem er in West Point sein Offizierseramen bestanden hatte, Lieutenant im vierten Infanterie-Regiment geworden. Mit eimem Theile dieses Regiments kam er bald nach Oregon und machte dort von 1853 bis 1855 die "Rogue-River-Kriege" gegen die Indianer mit, jene Kämpfe erhielten diesen Namen, weil sie meist im Thale des Rogue River stattjanden, der, am westlichen Abhang des Cascade-Gebirges entspringend, nach einem westlichen Laufe von 220 Meilen sich bei Ellensburg im heutigen Staate Washington, in den Pacific ergiesst. Im Thale des Rogue River liegt auch Grants Pass.
    In einem jener Gefechte wurde Kautz schwer verwundet. Zum ersten Lieutenant befördert und kaum geheilt, machte Kautz im Jahre 1856 auch die Indianer-Feldzüge im damaligen Territorium Washington, an der Rüste des Puget-Sound mit, und auch in einem der vortigen Kämpfe wurde er schwer verwundet.
    Wegen seines heldenmüthigen und geschickten Berhaltens in jenen Indianerfriegen erhielt Kautz eine warme amtliche Belobung in einem Tagesbefehl des damaligen Obergenerals Scott. Dies war seine zweite Belobung wegen grosser Tapferkeit im Felde. Die erste erhielt er beim Ausgang des merikanischen Krieges, den er als Jüngling in einem Freiwilligen-Regiment von Ohio mitgemacht hatte und diese erste BeIobung führte zu seiner Aufnahme in die Militärakademie in West Point.
    Bei Ausbruch des Bürgerkriegs seiner Neigung gemäss zur Reiterei versetzt, schwang sich Kautz schnell zum ausgezeichneten Reitergeneral empor, und bei den kühnen nun von ihm unternommenen Streifzügen kamen ihm die in Indianerkriegen gefammetien Erfahrungen bestens zu Statten.
Illinois Staats Zeitung, Chicago, November 27, 1895, page 5
IMPRESSIONS AND OBSERVATIONS
OF THE JOURNAL MAN
By Fred Lockley
    While walking along Third Street a few days ago I noticed a man carrying several bows and a score or more of steel-tipped arrows. I gave him a quick look and noticed he had an intelligent face, a kindly expression and a swarthy complexion. Pointing to the bows and arrows, I said, "That rather takes one back to Oregon's early days, does it not? Are you a good shot with the bow and arrow?" He smiled, and said, "I would not like to boast of my prowess, but I have killed thousands of rabbits and grouse with my favorite bow. A bow is very much like a violin; when a person gets used to it he knows just about what he can do with it." "What is your name, and what do you do?" I inquired. He said, "My name is Nugen Kautz, and I live here in Portland. I am instructor in archery at Reed College and also at St. Helens Hall. I also sell bows and arrows. If you are familiar with the history of Oregon and Washington you have undoubtedly read or heard of my mother's father, Chief Lashmere, chief of the Nisqually tribe on Puget Sound." We happened to be standing in front of a second-hand store and auction house, so I suggested that we go in there where we could sit down at a table at our leisure and talk for a few minutes. The proprietor of the auction house very cordially furnished us a table and chairs, and when we were seated, I asked, "What would be your position in the tribe were you living with your mother's people?" He said:
    "I am hereditary chief and have a right to be addressed as Chief Nugen Kautz. My mother's father came of a line of warriors, and so did my father. My father's name was August Valentine Kautz. He was born in Baden, Germany, January 5, 1828, and while he was still a baby his people came to this country, settling in Ohio. My father served in the first regiment of Ohio volunteers in the Mexican War. At the close of the Mexican War he was given an appointment as a cadet at West Point. He graduated from the military academy in 1852 and immediately after his graduation was assigned to service on the Pacific Coast. They tell me I look a good deal like my father, though, of course, as my mother was a full-blooded Indian, my complexion is dark. I might almost claim to be Irish, as I was born on St. Patrick's Day, in 1857. I was born at Steilacoom, Wash. My brother Gus, who is two years younger than myself, also looks very much like my father, General Kautz. My mother was born at Nisqually. After she was married she never went by her Indian name any more but always went by the name of Kitty Kautz. She was just a girl when my father married her. My father was a young lieutenant at the time of their marriage. My mother was not only the chief's daughter but she was a very attractive girl. They were married after the manner of my mother's people; that is, my father gave a certain number of ponies, blankets, etc., to my mother's father for her, and mother's father gave a wedding feast to which all of my mother's relatives were invited and my mother and father ate from the same dish and drank from the same cup. The recognition by a man and woman before witnesses in this manner of each other as man and wife constitutes a marriage ceremony among the Indians.
    "My grandfather, Chief Lashmere, had traveled as far as St. Louis. Prior to the Indian troubles of 1855 the Indians held a council at which my father spoke. The Indians were indignant that their lands had been taken away from them and that they had been given worthless land for a reservation. When some of the other chiefs counseled war, my grandfather said, 'There is no use fighting against the white men. It would do no good, for they are like ants in an anthill; where they come from there are so many.' My grandfather's cousin was so indignant at him for counseling peace that he shot my grandfather.
    "Chief Leschi was my mother's uncle. You can read all about him in a book written by Ezra Meeker. Leschi's father was a chief of the Nisqually tribe. His mother was a Klickitat Indian. Leschi lived on Nisqually Prairie. Leschi was an intrepid warrior and had always befriended the whites, until they took away the Indians' land. After my father went East to take part in the Civil War my brother and I were sent to the Nisqually agency, and my father had Edward Huggins appointed as our guardian. Edward Huggins was one of the managers of the Puget Sound Agricultural Company. He had charge of their livestock and of their farming operations. Mr. Huggins placed me in charge of W. B. Gosnell at Cowlitz Landing. He placed my brother, August, in charge of Captain Gove, who had a place at Nisqually. I was with Mr. Gosnell nine years, from the time I was 7 until I was 16. During that time I milked the cows and fed the pigs and did the work of a man on his place. I was very anxious to get an education, but during the nine years I was with him I attended school for only nine months. When I was 16 my mother came to visit me. When I told her how anxious I was for an education she sent word to my father, and he wrote to Edward Huggins and had me taken away from Mr. Gosnell and put in charge of Captain Warren Gove, where my brother was. Captain Gove moved to Steilacoom. I stayed with him 15 months. During that time I had 12 months of schooling.
    "After being with Captain Gove 15 months he sent me to live with his son-in-law, J. McReavy, who kept a store at Union City, in the bend of Hood's Canal. I worked in the store and did chores there for the next three years. During that time I went to school six months. I was 19 years old at that time, and on one of his trips to Olympia I went with him. While there I met my mother and my brother. My uncle also lived in Olympia. I told Mr. McReavy that I was going to Olympia to enter Union Academy, of which Professor [Miller] Royal was principal. He did not want me to leave, because it would mean he would have to hire a man to do my work, but I knew I had a right to go if I wanted to, so I insisted. I attended Union Academy at Olympia two years. This was in 1876 and 1877. My brother, Gus, also went to school at the same time. My mother had a large herd of cattle and quite a band of horses, so she paid our expenses while we were going to school at Olympia."
Oregon Journal, Portland, January 19, 1925, page 4
IMPRESSIONS AND OBSERVATIONS
OF THE JOURNAL MAN
By Fred Lockley
    Nugen Kautz has lived in the Oregon country since 1857, and his mother and his maternal grandfather were born here. He is a son of General August V. Kautz, a West Point graduate and distinguished soldier, and of the daughter of Chief Lashmere of the Nisqually tribe. In telling me of his life, he said:
    "In 1877 my mother, my brother and I went from Olympia to Puyallup, where we each took up 80 acres of land. When the Indian school was opened at Forest Grove, Or., under Captain M. C. Wilkinson, word was sent to the people of the Nisqually tribe that they could send 18 students to the school. They selected 14 boys and four girls My brother and I were two of those selected. This Indian school, as you know, was an industrial school. I took up carpentry and blacksmithing, and, in fact, helped build the Indian school there. After spending two years in the Indian school I went to Pacific University. When Dr. A. H. Minthorn [H. J. Minthorn?] took charge of the Indian school at Forest Grove he asked me to take a position there as disciplinarian. One of the students, David H. Brewer, I appointed quartermaster sergeant. Later, he became disciplinarian at the Chemawa Indian school and occupied that position for 20 years or more.
    "From Forest Grove I returned to Puyallup, where I served as teacher and disciplinarian in the Yakima Indian school. General Milroy was agent at that time. Later I returned to Chemawa, where I taught awhile. From Chemawa I went to Warm Springs agency, where I worked as a carpenter on the agency buildings. I was married there on Christmas Day, 1888, to Elizabeth Olney, a daughter of Orville Olney and a niece of Nathan Olney. We have had 10 children, five of whom are living. Our boys are all graduated from high school. One of my boys works in the Ford plant. Another is cashier of the Warren Construction Company at Oakland, Cal. For many years I taught carpentry and blacksmithing at the Indian school at Warm Springs. Later I returned to my place in the Puget Sound country, where I stayed till 1915, when I once more went to my wife's old home on the Warm Springs agency, where I stayed until a year ago. I came here for a week's visit in 1915 and have lived in Portland ever since.
    "l remember a tine, some years ago, when my brother and I were catching salmon. A game warden came to us and said, 'What is the matter with you fellows? Can't you read? Don't you know it is against the law to catch salmon here?" In a good-natured way I told him I read, and I asked him if he also did not read, and if he did, had he read the treaty whereby the Indians were expressly permitted for all time to take fish at the regular places where they had been accustomed to go for fish. He said, 'What are you going to do with all those salmon?' I told him we were going to clean them, split them, smoke them and use them for our winter supply. He said he would see about it, but that is the last we ever heard of it. Indians are frequently imposed upon by white men unless the Indian happens to be conversant with his rights.
    "I remember there was an Indian up at the Warm Springs agency who was arrested for killing deer out of season. He was brought before the judge, who asked him if he had killed the deer. He said he had, so he was fined $50. The next day he was brought up on the complaint of someone who claimed that he had sold deer meat. The judge said, 'Are you guilty as charged?' The Indian said, 'Yesterday, I talk. It cost me $50. Today I no talk, you do the talking.' They were unable to prove the charge, so the Indian got off without having to pay another fine.
    "These arrowheads I make from well-tempered steel. At 60 yards I can usually kill a grouse or a rabbit. Of course, I have been shooting with the bow and arrow all my life. One of these arrows would kill a deer or a bear, but in hunting big game I usually use a gun.
    "I met a man the other day whose mother was an Indian and whose father was an army officer who, like my father, became a brigadier general. Many of the army officers who were stationed on the Pacific Coast prior to the Civil War took Indian wives and had children--men like U. S. Grant, Phil Sheridan and many others of that kind. Some of them, when they went East, left the Indian wife and children and paid no more attention to them, while others were like my father, who kept in touch with his family and tried to see that his children obtained an education.
    "As a usual rule, Indians want to keep strong and well, while white people will not take sufficient pains to keep well. An Indian lives out in the open, where he can get plenty of fresh air. He takes constant exercise every day. Many white people are sick where there is no need of it, if they would only follow the dictates of nature and eat less and exercise more.
    "My father served, when he first came to the coast, in 1853, as a second lieutenant in the Fourth Infantry. He served in the Rogue River Indian war in Southern Oregon in 1853 and also in 1855. He was wounded in Southern Oregon in 1855 and was also wounded in the Indian troubles on Puget Sound in 1856. He became a first lieutenant in 1855. When the Civil War broke out he was appointed a captain in the Sixth United States Cavalry. Later he became a colonel of the Second Ohio Cavalry. He was detailed to pursue John Morgan and his raiders. In the spring of 1864 he was appointed brigadier general and had command of the cavalry division of the Army of the James. He was later brevetted brigadier general and major general in the regular army. At the close of the war he became lieutenant colonel of the 34th infantry in the regular army, and before long was in command of his regiment and served from 1869 till 1874 in New Mexico, fighting against the Mescalero Apaches. In 1874 he became colonel of the Eighth Infantry and later was given command of the department of Arizona. Maybe you have seen some of his books. He wrote quite a number of books. My uncle Albert, Father's brother, graduated from the naval academy at Annapolis. He served through the Civil War, and at the end of the war was a lieutenant commander. Some years later he was promoted to commander. So, you see, I come of good fighting stock on my father's as well as my mother's side of the family. If you will look up the records of the World War you will see the Indians in service proved courageous and gallant fighters. They were particularly good as sharpshooters."
Oregon Journal, Portland, January 20, 1925, page 8


    "Probably the first white man to enter the area now embraced in Mount Rainier National Park was Dr. William Fraser Tolmie of the Hudson's Bay Company, who, with some Indian companions, made a botanizing excursion here in 1833. The first man to attempt to reach the summit of Rainier was Lieutenant A. V. Kautz, stationed at Fort Steilacoom. With the fort surgeon, two soldiers and an Indian guide, he made the attempt in July, 1857. Kautz and one of the soldiers reached an altitude of about 12,000 feet. The first successful attempt of Rainier was made August 17, 1870, by General Hazard Stevens and P. V. Van Trump."
F. W. Schmoe, quoted by Fred Lockley, "Impressions and Observations of the Journal Man," Oregon Journal, Portland, October 12, 1925, page 8




Last revised August 17, 2025