Frémont, the Pathfinder—Ownership of the Colorado—The Road of the Gold Seekers—First United States Military Post, 1849—Steam Navigation—Captain Johnson Goes to the Head of Black Canyon.
The great Western wilderness was now no longer “unknown” to white men. By the year 1840 the American had traversed it throughout, excepting the canyons of the Colorado, which yet remained, at least below the mouth of Grand River, almost as much of a problem as before the fur trade was born. Like some antediluvian monster the wild torrent stretched a foaming barrier miles on miles from the mountains of the north to the seas of the south, fortified in a rock-bound lair, roaring defiance at conquistadore, padre, and trapper alike.
Kaibab Pai Ute Boys Playing a Game of Wolf and Deer.
Photograph by J. K. Hillers, U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp. |
Till now the trappers and fur companies had been the chief travellers through this strange, weird land, but as the fourth decade of the century fairly opens, a new kind of pioneer appears suddenly on the field; a pioneer with motives totally different from those of the preceding explorers. Proselyting or profit had been heretofore the main spurs to ambition, but the commanding figure which we now observe scanning, from the majestic heights of the Wind River range, the labyrinthian maze of unlocated, unrecorded mountains, valleys, rivers, and canyons, rolling far and away to the surf of the Pacific, is imbued with a broader purpose. His mission is to know. The immediately previous elements drifted across the scene like rifle-smoke on the morning breeze, making no more impression on the world’s knowledge. They recorded little, and, so far as information was concerned, they might almost as well never have set foot in the wilderness. But the new man records everything: the wind, the cold, the clouds, the trees, the grass, the mice, the men, the worms, the birds, etc., to the end of his time and his ability. He is the real explorer, the advance guard of those many expeditions which followed and whose labours form the fourth division of our subject. Frémont is the name, since that time called “Pathfinder,” though, of course, the paths he followed had often before been travelled by the redoubtable trapper, whose knowledge, like that of the native, was personal only. Indeed, he was guided in his journeys by several men now quite as famous as himself—Kit Carson, Fitzpatrick, Walker, and Godey. But the field was still new to the world and to science. Quite appropriately, one of the highest peaks from which the Colorado draws its first waters, is now distinguished by the name of the earliest scientific observer to enter its basin. Frémont came up the North Platte and the Sweetwater branch, crossing (1842) from that stream by the South Pass thirty-four years after Andrew Henry had first traversed it, over to the headwaters of the Colorado. The ascent to South Pass is very gradual, and there is no gorge or defile. The total width is about twenty miles. A day or two later Frémont climbed out of the valley on the flank of the Wind River Mountains. “We had reached a very elevated point,” he says; “and in the valley below and among the hills were a number of lakes at different levels; some two or three hundred feet above others, with which they communicated by foaming torrents. Even to our great height the roar of the cataracts came up, and we could see them leaping down in lines of snowy foam.” Thus are the rills and the rivulets from the summits collected in these beautiful alpine lakes to give birth to the Colorado in white cascades, typical, at the very fountainhead, of the turbulence of the waters which have rent for themselves a trough of rock to the gulf.1 Springing from these clear pools and seething falls, shadowed by sombre pines and granite crags, its course is run through plunging rapids to the final assault on the sea, where wide sand-barrens and desolation prevail. Frémont understood this from his guides and says: “Lower down, from Brown’s Hole to the southward, the river runs through lofty chasms, walled in by precipices of red rock.” The descent
Canyon of Lodore, Green River, Looking up the Canyon.
Walls 2000 to 2500 feet high. “Wheatstack” in distance.
Photograph by E. O. Beaman, U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp. |
“of the Colorado is but little known, and that little derived from vague report. Three hundred miles of its lower part, as it approaches the Gulf of California, is reported to be smooth and tranquil; but its upper part is manifestly broken into many falls and rapids. From many descriptions of trappers it is probable that in its foaming course among its lofty precipices, it presents many scenes of wild grandeur; and though offering many temptations, and often discussed, no trappers have yet been found bold enough to undertake a voyage which has so certain a prospect of fatal termination.”
He was mistaken about the trappers, not having ventured, for, as we have seen, there are traces of at least three parties: that of Ashley, that of the missionaries mentioned by Farnham, the trappers also mentioned by him, and the one indicated by the wreckage discovered in Lodore by Powell’s expeditions, though the latter and that mentioned by Farnham are possibly the same.
The fur trade, which up to about 1835 was principally in beaver skins, had now somewhat changed, and buffalo robes were the chief article of traffic. But the buffalo were also beginning to diminish. They were no longer found on the western slope of the mountains, and no wonder, as the fur companies annually gathered in about ninety thousand marketable skins during the ten years ending with 1842, yet it was only those animals killed in the cold months whose pelts were suitable for the fur business. The largest number of buffalo were killed in the summer months for other purposes; therefore one is not surprised that they were soon exterminated in the Colorado River Valley, where they never were as numerous as on the plains, and apparently never went west of the mouth of White River.
Las Vegas, Southern Nevada, on the Old Spanish Trail.Oil sketch by F. S. Dellenbaugh.Frémont went over to the California region, returning through Nevada by way of the Spanish Trail, past Las Vegas (see cut, page 137), and up the Virgen, which he called the most dreary river he had ever seen, till he reached the point where Escalante had turned east. From here he followed Escalante’s trail back to Utah Lake, passing through Mountain Meadows (1844), afterward the scene of the terrible massacre of emigrants by a body of Mormons under John D. Lee.2 His route was full of interesting adventures, but it is not possible to give details here.3 Passing over the Wasatch by way of Spanish Fork, he again entered the valley of the Colorado on the head-waters of the Uinta, pausing briefly at Roubidoux’s Fort on Uinta River. Soon after he left, the fort and its occupants were annihilated by the Utes. Crossing Ashley Fork he climbed on the trail high up the mountain, where he had “a view of the river below shut up amongst rugged mountains;” Whirlpool Canyon and the Canyon of Lodore. Descending then to Brown’s Hole, he crossed the river in a skin boat, and camped just above Vermilion Creek, opposite the remains of an “old fort,” which was doubtless Fort Davy Crockett. “Here the river enters between lofty precipices of red rock” (now the Gate of Lodore), “and the country below is said to assume a very rugged character; the river and its affluents passing through canons which forbid all access to the water.” After journeying to the head of the Platte, and south through the Parks, he went east by the Arkansas, and came again in 1845 to cross the Green a little farther south on his way to California.
A Canyon in the Cliffs, Southern Nevada.
Pencil sketch by F. S. Dellenbaugh. |
By this time the relations between the United States and Mexico were at the point of rupture, and in 1846 Kearny’s forces moved on New Mexico and California, the Mormon Battalion marking out a waggon-road down the Gila. Frémont, being in California, took an active part (1846) in the capture of the region, but the story of that episode does not belong here, and may be found in any history of California. The same year in which the formal treaty of peace was signed (1848) another event occurred which was destined to have a vast influence on the whole country and lead streams of emigrants to the new Dorado across the broad wastes of the Colorado Valley; gold in enormous quantities was discovered on Sutler’s California ranch. There were three chief routes from the “States” across the wilderness of the Colorado River basin: one down the Gila to the Yuma country, another by South Pass and so on around Salt Lake and down the Humboldt, and the third also by South Pass and Salt Lake and thence south, by Mountain Meadows and west by the Old Spanish Trail. On the northern road Jim Bridger had, in 1843, established a trading post on Ham’s Fork of Black’s Fork of Green River, and this now was a welcome stopping-place for many of the emigrants,4 while on the southern trail a temporary ferry was established at the mouth of the Gila by Lieut. Cave J. Coutts, who had arrived in September, 1849, commanding an escort for some boundary surveyors under Lieutenant Whipple. For a couple of months he rendered great assistance to the stream of weary emigrants, who had reached this point on their long journey to the Golden Country of their dreams. A flatboat, built on the shore of Lake Michigan, and there fitted with wheels so that it could be used as a waggon on land, was launched on the Gila at the Pima villages and came safely down to the Colorado, bearing its owners. Coutts is said to have purchased this boat and used it till he left, which was not long after. The junction now began to be a busy place. The United States troops came and went, occupying the site of Coutt’s Camp Calhoun, which Major Heintzelman, November, 1850, called Camp Independence. In March, 1851, he re-established his command on the spot where the futile Spanish mission of Garces’s time had stood, and this was named Fort Yuma. It was abandoned again in the autumn of the year, as had been done with the camps of the previous seasons, but when Heintzelman returned in the spring of 1852 he made it a permanent military post.
Meanwhile a gang of freebooters, who left Texas in 1849, found their way to this point and acquired or established a ferry two or three miles below the old mission site. Their settlement was called Fort Defiance in contempt for the Yumas. They were led by one Doctor Craig. They robbed the Yumas of their wives and dominated the region as they pleased. Captain Hobbs,5 a mountaineer who was at Yuma in 1851, says:
“The attack which wiped out this miserable band was planned by two young Mexicans, who had attempted to cross the ferry with their wives, and had them taken from them and detained by the Texans. The Mexicans went down the river and the desperadoes supposed they had gone their way and left their wives in their hands. But they only went far enough to find the chief of the tribe who had suffered so horribly at the hands of this gang, and arrange for an attack on their common enemy.”
By this plan twenty-three out of the twenty-five whites, including the master scoundrel himself. Dr. Craig, were destroyed with little loss to the attacking party. Hobbs calls this the best thing the Yumas ever did. It took place only a month before Hobbs reached the ferry, and only two or three days before one of the periodical returns of United States troops, this time a company of dragoons under Captain Hooper, probably belonging to Heintzelman’s command. To him the two escaped desperadoes came with a complaint against the Yumas, but the captain was posted and he put the men in irons to be transported to
California for trial. The Yumas now established a ferry by using an old army-waggon box which they made water-tight, as the Craig Ferry had suffered the fate of its owners. Hobbs employed the Yumas to take his party over, the horses swimming, and the arrangement seems to have worked very well.
Crossing the Lower Colorado.
Width 400 to 500 yards.
Photograph by Delancy Gill. |
According to Hobbs, the first steamboat came up the river while he was there, frightening the Yumas so that they ran for their lives, exclaiming the devil was coming, blowing fire and smoke out of his nose, and kicking back with his feet in the water. It was the stern-wheel steamboat Yuma, and this is the only mention of it I can find. It had supplies for the troops, but what became of it afterward I do not know. This was evidently before the coming of the Uncle Sam, usually credited with being the first steamboat on the Colorado, which did not arrive till a year after the reconnaissance of the river mouth by Lieutenant Derby of the Topographical Engineers, for the War Department, seeking a route for the water transportation of supplies to Fort Yuma, now ordered to be a permanent military establishment. He came up the river a considerable distance, in the topsail schooner Invincible and made a further advance in his small boats. The only guide he had to the navigation of the river was Hardy’s book, referred to in a previous chapter, which assisted him a good deal. He arrived at the mouth December 23, 1850. “The land,” he says, “was plainly discernible on both coasts of the gulf, on the California side bold and mountainous, but on the Mexican low and sandy.” There could, therefore, never, have been any doubt in the minds of any of those who had previously reached this point as to the character of Lower California. The Invincible sailed daily up the river with the flood tide, anchoring during the ebb, and they got on very well till the night of January 1, 1851, when the vessel grounded at the ebb,
“swung round on her heel, and, thumping violently, was carried by the tide (dragging her anchor) some two or three miles, grounding finally upon the shoal of Gull Island. At flood tide sail was made on her as soon as she floated, and we succeeded in getting her back into the channel. As the vessel grounded at every ebb tide and on the return of the water was violently swung around, thumping on her bottom and swinging on her anchor, I began to see that it would be neither prudent, or in fact possible, to ascend the river much higher, and we accordingly commenced making preparations for a boating expedition.”6
The ebb tide ran at the rate of five and a half miles an hour, and the next day they saw, as it was running out, the “bore,” or tidal wave, booming in to meet and overwhelm it.
“A bank of water some four feet in height, extending clear across the river, was seen approaching us with equal velocity; this huge comber wave came steadily onward, occasionally breaking as it rushed over shoals of Gull and Pelican islands; passing the vessel, which it swung around on its course, it continued up the river. The phenomenon was of daily occurrence until about the time of neap tides.”
A Cocopa Dwelling, near the Mouth of the Colorado.
Photograph by Delancy Gill. |
At Howard’s Point the vessel was anchored while the party continued the exploration in the small boat. The Cocopas whom they met were entirely friendly. These people wore no clothing beyond the breechcloth, and were plastered from head to foot with mud. The width of the river varied from two hundred yards to half a mile. At one place they passed a Cocopa village, near which lay an old scow made from waggon-boxes which had floated down from the ferry at Yuma. On the 13th they met Major Heintzelman coming down-stream, and as he had taken field notes Derby considered it unnecessary for him to proceed, and they went back in company to the ship, arriving there the same afternoon. The vessel was then worked three miles farther up, where her cargo was discharged to be taken by teams to the fort. Heintzelman was accompanied by a Dr. Ogden and a Mr. Henchelwood, “proprietors of the ferry.” The Craig gang had been destroyed earlier this year, and these men had probably established a new ferry. While lying at this berth, the vessel was roughly tumbled about by the tidal wave, till she broke from her anchor and drifted rapidly up-stream. This was the highest and most powerful spring tide, and the situation was full of peril. The captain, Wilcox, calmly took the helm himself, steered toward the bank and ordered his men to leap to the ground from the jib-boom, carrying the kedge anchor. By this means the mad rush of the vessel was stopped, and by the use of logs and cables she was kept a safe distance from the bank. When the stores were finally landed they turned gratefully but apprehensively toward the sea, which they happily reached again without serious mishap.
A little later this same year (1851) George A. Johnson came to the mouth of the river on the schooner Sierra Nevada with further supplies for the fort, including lumber for the construction of flatboats with which to go up to the post. Johnson afterwards ran steamers on the river for a number of years, but he was not the first to attempt steam-navigation here, that honour resting with Turnbull who built the Uncle Sam.
On the Yuma Desert.
Photograph by Delancy Gill. |
Many of the emigrants, dreaming of ease and prosperity as they trudged their long course across the desolation of the South-west, never lived to touch the golden sands of wonderful California, but expired by the way, often at the hands of the Apache or of some other cutthroat tribe. One of the saddest cases was that of Royse Oatman, who, en route with his large family, was massacred (1851) on the spot now known as Oatman’s Flat, not far below the great bend of the Gila. His son, left for dead, revived and escaped. Two daughters were carried off and afterwards sold to the Mohaves, among whom one died and the other was restored by purchase to freedom (1856) by Henry Grinnell, and was sent to her brother’s home in Los Angeles.7 Another characteristic example is related by Hobbs, lit the desert beyond Yuma,
“we came upon the remains of an emigrant train, which a month previous had attempted to cross this desert in going from the United States to
California. While passing over the desert they had been met by a sand-storm and lost the road by the sand blowing over it, and had wandered off into the hills. They had finally got back into the road; but by that time they were worn out, and they perished of fatigue and thirst.”
They had passed the watering-place, a small pool, and as they had already been two or three days without water, the mistake was fatal. They had lightened their loads by casting off goods, but it was useless. A squad of soldiers was sent out from Fort Yuma to bury the bodies, of which eight were women and children and nine were men. The desert has no compassion on the human intruder, and he who ventures there must count only on his own resources.
A Uinta Ute.
Photography by J. K. Hillers, U. S. Geol. Survey. |
The crossing of Green River was also difficult, except at low water, on account of the depth and force of the current. Sometimes the emigrants utilised a waggon-box as a boat, and the Mormons, who passed in 1847, established a ferry. Later others operated ferries, and the valley vied with Yuma in the matter of human activity. Fort Bridger was a place for rest and repairs, for there was a primitive blacksmith forge and carpenter shop. Here lived Bridger with his dark-skinned wife, chosen from a native tribe, and Vasquez, also a famous hunter. The fort was simply a few log cabins arranged in a hollow square protected by palisades, through which was a gateway closed by timber doors. Simple though it was, its value to the emigrant so far away from any settlement can hardly be appreciated by any who have never journeyed through such a wilderness as still existed beyond the Missouri. Could we pause here and observe the caravans bound toward the sunset, we could hardly find anywhere a more interesting study. There were the Californian emigrant, and the Mormon with his wives and their push-carts, there were the trapper and the trader, and there were the bands of natives sometimes friendly, sometimes hovering about a caravan like a pack of hungry wolves. There is now barely an echo of this hard period, and that echo smothered by the rush of the express train as it dashes in an hour or two so heedlessly across the stretches that occupied the forgotten emigrant days or weeks. In the search for a route for the railway much exploration was accomplished, and these expeditions, together with those in connection with the Mexican boundary survey, added greatly to the accumulating knowledge of the desolation enveloping the Colorado and its branches.
The treaty of 1848 made the Gila the southern boundary, but the Gadsden Purchase placed it farther south, as now marked. A number of expeditions concerned in this and railway surveys traversed Arizona in the early fifties under Whipple, Sitgreaves, Emory, and others, and the country began to be scientifically known outside of the canyons and their surroundings. John R. Bartlett was appointed Boundary Commissioner, and he spent considerable time along the Gila and southwards and on the lower Colorado in 1852 to 1854.8 A few weeks before he arrived at Fort Yuma eight of the soldiers there had a battle with the Yumas and the eight were all killed. After this Heintzelman fought them with so much vigour that they finally came in, begging for peace. Bartlett’s first view of the Colorado was in the early morning at a point twelve miles below the fort. “It was much swollen, and rushed by with great velocity, washing away the banks and carrying with it numberless snags and trees.” Never is the Colorado tranquil. As they followed up the stream they suddenly found the road washed away, and were obliged to cut a new path through the underbrush. This proved a long task, so with the pack-mules he pushed on, leaving the waggons to come later. Antoine Leroux was the guide. When they reached the place he had selected for a camp and had unpacked the mules, it was found that the water could not be approached because of the abruptness of the washed-out bank, so they were compelled to saddle again and go on toward the fort, though they had been riding since one o’clock in the morning.
“Judy,” a Navajo.
From a Photograph by J. K. Hillers. |
They were finally stopped altogether by a bayou and had to wait for a boat from the fort with which to cross it. When they came finally to the crossing of the river itself to the Arizona side they had a slow and difficult time of it. Sometimes the scow they used failed to reach the landing-place on the other side and the strong current would then sweep it two or three miles down the river before the men could get it to the shore. The next operation would be to tow it back to some low place, where the animals on it could be put ashore. This is a sample of the difficulties always encountered in crossing when the river was at flood. From Yuma looking northward the river can be traced for about fifteen miles before it is lost in the mountains. See cut on page 26. Bartlett desired to explore scientifically down to the mouth, but the government failed to grant him the privilege. He and Major Emory were not on good terms and there was a great deal of friction about all the boundary work, arising chiefly from the appointment of a civilian commissioner. Bartlett mentions Leroux’s “late journey down the Colorado,” on which occasion he met with some Cosninos, but just where he started from is not stated, though it was certainly no higher up than the mouth of the Grand Wash.
In 1852 the steamer Uncle Sam was brought out on a schooner from San Francisco and put together at the mouth of the river, but after a few months she most strangely went to the bottom, while her owner, Turnbull, was on the way from San Francisco with new machinery for her. Turnbull came in the schooner General Patterson, which was bearing stores for the fort. When the Patterson arrived at the mouth of the Colorado, she was able to sail easily up the river for thirty-three miles because Turnbull was met by some of his men who had been left here to take soundings, and for the first time a vessel was sailing with some knowledge of the channel. The river, however, was unusually high, which was an advantage. The wide flatlands on both sides were inundated to a distance of fifteen miles. The current ran at a seven-or eight-mile rate and was loaded with floating snags and tree-trunks to repel the invader. In proceeding in a small boat to the fort, Turnbull, in a distance of 120 miles, found but two dry spots on the bank where he could camp.
One of the Parks on the Kaibab.
Photograph by T. Mitchell Prudden. |
A new steamer was soon afloat on this fickle and impetuous tide, the General Jesup, owned by Captain Johnson, who had now had three or four years’ experience in this navigation had been awarded the contract for transporting the supplies from the mouth, to the fort. His new boat, however, exploded seven months later, and it seemed as if the Fates had joined with the treacherous river to prevent successful steam navigation here. But Johnson would not give up. Before twelve months had passed he was stemming the turbulent flood with another steamer, the Colorado, a stern-wheeler, 120 feet long. As if propitiated by the compliment of having its name bestowed on this craft, the river treated it fairly well, and it seems to have survived to a good old age. The Jesup was soon repaired.
The northern part of Arizona was crossed by Captain Sitgreaves, in 1851, about on the trail of Garces, reaching the Colorado in the Mohave Valley, and following the river down to Fort Yuma. In 1854, another government expedition under Lieutenant Whipple, with Lieutenant Ives as chief assistant, explored along the 35th parallel for a railway route, and when they arrived on the Colorado at the mouth of Bill Williams Fork, they followed up the river, through the beautiful Mohave Valley to a point some eight miles above the present railway (A. & P.) bridge, where they crossed. Their experience was interesting. Lieutenant Ives directed the operations, using for a ferry-boat a singular combination: an old rubber pontoon, with the box from a spring waggon attached to the top of it for a receptacle for the goods. This was arranged at night. In the morning the pontoon was found in a state of collapse and the waggon-box filled with water, but the concern was resuscitated by the skill of Ives, and soon all was ready for crossing. Swimmers carried a long rope to an island midway, while another was retained on the shore. By means of these the boat was pulled back and forth. The first trip was entirely successful, but on the second attempt the affair was, by the weight of the ropes, upset in midstream.
“During the excitement attending this misfortune, we were advised by an Indian messenger that another great chief was about to pay us a visit. Turning around, we beheld quite an interesting spectacle. Approaching was the dignitary referred to, lance in hand, and apparelled in official robes. The latter consisted of a blanket thrown gracefully around him, and a magnificent head-dress of black plumage covering his head and shoulders, and hanging down his back in a streamer, nearly to the ground. His pace was slow, his eyes cast downward, and his whole demeanour expressive of formal solemnity. Upon his right hand was the interpreter, upon his left a boy acting as page, and following was a long procession of his warriors, attended by a crowd of men, women, and children.”
Compliments and presents were exchanged and all was well. Meanwhile the men who had been capsized with the boat were struggling to disentangle themselves from the waggon-box, and when freed they gained support on the rope till the entire combination was pulled back to the shore. The whole party were finally on the island and then used the same tactics in crossing the other deeper channel. Here they upset the ferry three times and two persons came near being drowned. The Mohaves, who are good swimmers, rendered prompt and efficient assistance in saving the floating wreckage. They were also supplied with their kind of raft, made of bundles of rushes tied together with willow twigs (see cut on page 30), which they handled dexterously. Such rafts were and are in use all the way from here to the gulf. By night the expedition was safe on the western bank, the mules having swum over, and the flock of sheep, being ferried in the boat. Several sheep were drowned, and these, with two live ones and a couple of blankets, were conferred on those Mohaves who had helped in the crossing. The landing-place was a field of young wheat, which was much damaged. The lieutenant willingly paid the moderate charge the owner made for this, and there was no trouble; all the intercourse was perfectly amicable. But had he been imbued with the trapper spirit he would probably have answered the request for payment with a fatal bullet, and then would have followed a stampede of the stock, ambush, and all the rest which embroiders the history of the trappers with such violently romantic colour.
The Ruins in Canyon de Chelly, Arizona, called “Casa Blanca.”.These were once connected.
Photography by J. K. Hillers, U. S. Geol. Survey.
The Queen.
Pinnacle 200 feet high on Vermillion Creek.
Photograph by E. O. Beaman, U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp. |
Two or three years after the Whipple expedition, a waggon-road was surveyed (1837) along the 35th parallel by E. F. Beale. He returned to the Colorado January 23, 1858, about twelve miles north of Whipple’s Crossing. He had camped, several miles back from the Colorado, and starting early met his clerk F. E. Kerlin returning from the river whither he had been sent to prepare the boat. The clerk had a “joyful surprise” in news that the steamboat General Jesup, Captain George A. Johnson, was at the crossing and waiting to convey the party across. Soon after the arrival of Beale’s party the steamboat came up to the bank, and taking on the men, baggage, and camels landed them on the opposite or eastern side.9 The mules were compelled to swim over. Then the General Jesup continued down stream “towards Fort Yuma, 350 miles below.” Johnson had with him Lieut. James White, 3d U. S. Artillery, fifteen soldiers and “as many rugged mountain men” as escort. He had succeeded in navigating with the General Jesup as far up the river as El Dorado Canyon, about sixty-eight miles below the mouth of the Virgin—that is, he had gone clear through Black Canyon and thus holds the record for the first ascent of the Colorado with a steamboat to the limit of steamboat navigation. This feat he executed with the avowed purpose of “getting ahead” of Lieutenant Ives who had arrived December 1, 1857, at Robinson’s Landing at the mouth of the river, bringing an iron steamboat (as described in the next chapter) under orders from the War Department to explore the Colorado as far as possible.
Johnson had been aware of his presence and intentions having been sent down from Fort Yuma with two steamboats to transport certain supplies from the vessel which brought Lieutenant Ives. He had reached the schooner December l7th. On January 2, 1858, he left Fort Yuma on his northward run knowing that Ives could not follow him until the steamboat brought in sections could be completed.
Ives had entirely ignored Johnson, as well as Johnson’s skill in navigating this river, and also his powerful steamboats. The appropriation under which Ives was working was one which had originally been made for Johnson, after a visit of his to Washington, but from several causes it had been switched over to the War Department. Captain Johnson, therefore, was determined to rob Ives of the glory of being the first to take a steamboat to the head of navigation, and he did it with a steamboat much larger than that of Ives which failed to pass Black Canyon. The General Jesup, named after the quarter-master general of the Army, was 108 feet long, 28 feet beam, and drew 2 feet, 6 inches of water. She had exploded in August, 1854, but had been thoroughly repaired. On this down trip from the head of steamboat navigation she met with another accident, running on “a large rolling stone and sinking just above Chimney Peak” some eighteen miles from Yuma. She was raised by the Colorado and towed down to the Fort.10
1These mountains, as the glacial accumulations began to permanently diminish, must have annually sent a long-continued huge flood of water down the rivers heading there.
2For an account of this unfortunate affair see The Rocky Mountain Saints, chapter xliii., by T. B. H. Stenhouse. I knew Lee. Personally he was an agreeable man, and to me he disclaimed responsibility in this matter.
3See Frémont and '49 by F. S. Dellenbaugh.
4Brigham Young and his followers crossed to the Salt Lake Valley in 1847.
5Wild Life in the Far West, by Captain James Hobbs.
6Reconnaissance of the Gulf of California and the Colorado River made in 1850-51, by Lieut. G. H. Derby. Ex. Doc, 81, 32nd Congress, 1st Session, Senate.
7For the full story see Capture of the Oatman Girls, by R. B. Stratton.
8Personal Narrative of Exploration, by John Russell Bartlett.
9Beale used camels on this expedition and considered them a success.
10See Wagon Road from Fort Defiance to the Colorado River—Edward F. Beale, 35th Congress, 2d Session, House of Representatives, Document, 124, Washington, 1858. Also Handbook to Arizona, pp. 247-48, R. J. Hinton, 1878. The information as to Johnson’s application for an appropriation to explore the Colorado was given me by Mr. Robert Brewster Stanton. Johnson also related the story of his “getting ahead” of Ives, to Mr. Stanton, who now has the written statement as well. I communicated with Johnson in 1904, requesting some data, but he declined to give it on the ground that he intended himself to publish the story of his exploits. Since then unfortunately he has died.
