Oregon Trail Readings

Introduction The Oregon Trail was much more than a pathway to the state of Oregon; it was the only practical corridor to the entire western United States. The places we now know as Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Idaho and Utah would probably not be a part of the United States today were it not for the Oregon Trail. That's because the Trail was the only feasible way for settlers to get across the mountains. The journey west on the Oregon Trail was exceptionally difficult by today's standards. One in 10 died along the way; many walked the entire two-thousand miles barefoot. The common misperception is that Native Americans were the emigrant's biggest problem en route. Quite the contrary, most native tribes were quite helpful to the emigrants. The real enemies of the pioneers were cholera, poor sanitation and--surprisingly--accidental gunshots. The first emigrants to go to Oregon in a covered wagon were Marcus and Narcissa Whitman (and Henry and Eliza Spalding) who made the trip in 1836. But the big wave of western migration did not start until 1843, when about a thousand pioneers made the journey. That 1843 wagon train, dubbed "the great migration" kicked off a massive move west on the Oregon Trail. Over the next 25 years more than a half million people went west on the Trail. Some went all the way to Oregon's Willamette Valley in search of farmland--many more split off for California in search of gold. The glory years of the Oregon Trail finally ended in 1869, when the transcontinental railroad was completed. Actual wagon ruts from the Oregon Trail still exist today in many parts of the American West; and many groups are working hard to preserve this national historic treasure. Discoverers & Explorers Who really found the Oregon Trail? In 1800, the American West was still wild country--no cities, no railroads and no cattle ranches yet existed. It was quiet and untouched. People in the eastern U.S.had heard stories about the western mountains and the desert, but no Euro-American had been there. Within a very short time that would all change. Lewis and Clark In 1803, President Thomas Jefferson organized a secret mission to send a small party overland to the Pacific--a daunting trek that no one before had tried. Congress met covertly to approve the trip, because Lewis and Clark would be venturing beyond the United States--onto British soil. Jefferson chose his old friend and neighbor Meriwether Lewis to lead the venture; and Lewis in turn picked rough-hewn frontiersman William Clark to be co-leader. In May of 1804, their contingent of a few dozen men started west up the Missouri River. Jefferson's hope was that Lewis and Clark would find an easy water route to the Pacific--a simple way west for traders and emigrants alike. He also wanted Lewis and Clark to gather scientific information about the region--after all, no white man had seen the west's plants or animals. The journey took so long, many assumed the expedition had perished. But on December fifth, 1805, Lewis and Clark reached the Pacific. William Clark wrote "We now discover that we have found the most practicable and navigable passage across the continent of North America." He was dead wrong. Lewis and Clark's route was much too difficult for wagon traffic. No pioneer wagon would ever follow in their footsteps. Lolo Pass, where the expedition crossed the most difficult section of the Rockies, is a rough haul even today--almost two centuries later. But their expedition was still considered a success. That's because their detailed maps and notes provided a wealth of solid scientific data. The West was a mystery no more. The Astorians The second major westward expedition was not funded by the government; it was backed by the world's richest man--John Jacob Astor. Astor had read about Lewis and Clark's journey and by 1810 he saw an opportunity to make money. His plan was to set up a fur-trading enterprise at the mouth of the Columbia River. Just one problem--how to get his men across the uncharted American West. Astor sent two groups--the first traveled by ship around Cape Horn. They arrived safely, but their ship was later destroyed in a conflict with Native Americans in the area. A second group traveled overland; the first to try since Lewis and Clark. But things did not go well. At Caldron Linn, a particularly rough spot on the Snake River, one of the overland party's canoes capsized--causing the death of one man and a substantial loss of supplies. Hunt soon discovered that the river did not become more placid downstream. Reluctantly, he came to the inevitable conclusion--the Snake was unnavigable. There would be no easy water route to the Pacific; an unfortunate twist of geography that would frustrate pioneers for the next hundred years. In the end, Hunt's overland party did make it to the Pacific, but the enterprise was in deep trouble. Their only hope was to send a few men back east to get help from Astor. Robert Stuart led the mission back to St. Louis--a difficult journey that took nearly a year. Along the way, Stuart made an incredible discovery--he found a 20-mile wide gap in the Rocky mountains--the one passage where wagons could get through. Named South Pass, this find would become the key to western migration. Over a half-million emigrants would eventually follow the ruts through South Pass. Where Lewis and Clark had failed, Robert Stuart had unwittingly succeeded. Pike & Long Despite Stuart's discovery of a passage through the Rockies, it would be several decades before the big move west would begin. Why the delay? Part of the blame goes to Lt. Zebulon Pike. In 1806, Pike was sent west to explore the great plains and Rocky Mountains. Unfortunately, in his reports Pike referred to the plains as "the Great American Desert," a name that stuck. Even though much of the region is nothing like a desert, people back east conjured up images of sand dunes and cactus. No emigrant in their right mind would try to cross a severe wasteland--and so the big move west was delayed. Pike's opinion that the west was a vast desert was confirmed by Maj. Steven Long, who led an expedition west in 1819. Long and his men passed through what is now Oklahoma, Nebraska, Colorado, Kansas and Oklahoma. He concluded that the entire region was unfit for human habitation. And so the west remained largely untouched. Native American tribes lived in peace. White settlers stayed away. After all, the west was uninhabitable; at least that's what everyone thought. Mountain Men Despite the negative publicity, a few Americans did trickle west in the first few decades of the 19th century. They were a rough-hewn bunch of adventurous entrepreneurs--that came to be called "Mountain Men." These solitary fur-trappers lived thousands of miles from civilization. Most had no home, no money and no possessions--except what they could carry on their backs. They lived completely off the land, with a diet of buffalo, elk and mountain goat. Many roamed constantly, covering hundreds, perhaps thousands of miles each year all in search of just one thing--beaver pelts. A mountain man could trade a beaver pelt for anything he needed--but then, he didn't need much. Although it may seem like an exciting life, it was never easy. At night, they slept right on the ground and freezing winters were spent in a drafty teepee. An injured mountain man might have to set his own broken bone or even amputate his own limb. Their only friends were the Native Americans they occasionally met. Even before Lewis and Clark finished their epic journey to the Pacific, mountain men were traveling up and down the Missouri River in search of beaver fur. Most importantly, they were pushing the limits of known civilization; exploring new lands and discovering uncharted places. In 1808, mountain man John Colter stumbled upon a land where hot water shot straight into the air and the earth bubbled as if it were boiling. He had discovered the place we now know as Yellowstone National Park. But no one believed him. They thought he was telling tall tales. Similarly--on a bet--mountain man Jim Bridger sailed down the Bear River in Utah until he found a huge body of salt water. He thought he had reached the Pacific Ocean. In reality, Bridger had discovered the Great Salt Lake. Bridger was one of the best known mountain men; largely for his trailblazing skills. In one adventure he took an arrowhead in the back. He finally had it removed three years later--without anesthetic. Later in life--in the 1840s--Bridger built a fort in what is now Wyoming. His goal was to sell supplies to the flood of emigrants then heading for Oregon. But the fort tied him down, and so within a few years, Bridger sold his fort and got back to the only lifestyle he knew--adventure. Perhaps the greatest mountain man of them all was Jedediah Smith. Incredibly tough, he once sewed on his scalp after an angry bear had torn it off. In 1825, Smith re-discovered South Pass--a key passageway through the treacherous Rocky Mountains. South Pass had been visited by an earlier explorers but its location had been kept secret. Smith made sure everyone knew about this important corridor. But Smith's greatest achievement was his epic expedition to the Southwest. In 1826 he set out from the Great Salt Lake--intent on visiting lands no white man had seen. He would spend the next four years fulfilling that dream. Smith's journeys took him from what is now Canada to Mexico--but it wasn't his route that was important. After all, no settler ever followed his path. What was important was the map he left behind--the so-called "Fremont-Gibbs-Smith map" was the only accurate and comprehensive map of the era. It would be decades before a better guide to the American West would be available. The only mountain man who could rival the greatness of Jedediah Smith was Joe Walker. For over half a century he roamed the west, trapping beaver, blazing trails, and leading expeditions. Perhaps Walker's greatest triumph was the trail he blazed to California in 1832. But Walker wasn't alone, he was under the employ of a US army captain-- Benjamin Bonneville. Bonneville claimed he was on leave from the army to take up fur trapping, but many historians think he was an undercover agent for the US government--sent to spy on the Mexicans in California. We'll never know for sure. It is sure, however, that the route blazed by Bonneville and Walker was critically important because it turned out to be the only practical route to California. In future years hundreds of thousands of pioneers would follow their footsteps to the promised land. Nearly a half-century later, the transcontinental railroad--seeking the best route west--would lay their tracks directly on top of Joe Walker's trail to California. Fur Trading Companies Early on, at least one American saw there was money to be made by organizing the mountain men into large fur trading companies. His name was Manuel Lisa. Ruthless and violent, Lisa was hated by his men but he was a very successful businessman. Starting in 1807, he quickly built a chain of forts along the Missouri and his men fanned out in all directions to harvest the abundant beaver. Hoping for similar success, William Ashley, in 1822, put an ad in a St. Louis paper, to recruit able-bodied men for his new enterprise. There was no shortage of willing young men. Unlike Lisa, Ashley did not build a chain of forts to manage his fur trading operation. Instead, he sent his men out alone and made arrangements to meet them all at a centrally-located place a year later. At the pre-determined time, Ashley would load up his wagons with supplies to replenish his men and then head off to meet them. Ashley's yearly journey began in St. Louis and took him deep into the heart of the Rockies. Importantly, his wagons were the first vehicles to penetrate the west. He was, unknowingly, blazing a wagon road for the settlers who would follow a decade later. When Ashley finally reached his men each year, it was cause for celebration--a wild party they called "the rendezvous." Every year throughout the 1820s and 30s it was the same: gambling, drinking, storytelling that went on for days. Ashley and his successors got rich, but his trappers largely got fleeced. Nonetheless, the interplay was critical--because the Ashley took important information about the West back to civilization. By the late 1830s, beaver hats were going out of style in New York and London, and so pelts were no longer in demand. As a result, many mountain men were forced to find a new livelihood. Some became farmers, others led pioneer wagons trains--that were just now beginning to stream west. The era of the mountain man had passed and the age of the pioneer was beginning. Fremont Explorer John Fremont became one of America's biggest heroes because of his journeys west along the Oregon Trail in 1842 and 1843. He got the job largely because his wife's father was the powerful Missouri senator Thomas Hart Benton. Benton believed America had an innate right to all the lands of the west, an idea that came to be called "Manifest Destiny." And so Fremont was under strict orders to make the west seem attractive--worth settling. That he did. Fremont's reports on his journeys were decidedly upbeat. They made the trip west seem easy--enjoyable. The reports were widely read in the east, stirring up excitement and encouraging pioneers to head west. However, even though the reports bear his name, Fremont didn't write them. He gave up and left the work to his wife--the intelligent and articulate Jesse Benton Fremont. It was she--as much as anyone--who lit the spark of America's big move west. Jumping off Starting the adventure of a lifetime Jumping Off Cities The Missouri River heads due west from St. Louis; so most emigrants loaded their wagons onto steamships for the upstream journey. It was easy traveling, but it didn't last long. Two-hundred miles from St. Louis, the Missouri takes a cruel turn to the north. So the pioneers unloaded their wagons at any one of several small towns along the Missouri river which they called "jumping off" places. Independence was the first option. Further upstream wasWestport, St. Joseph, Omaha and Council Bluffs. The economies of these frontier towns depended on emigrants passing through, so many hired agents to go east and badmouth the competing cities. Emigrant William Rothwell: "I have never in my life heard as many false statements as were told us in coming up here. We were frequently told that at least 15 to 20 cases of cholera were dying daily in St. Joseph". In reality, no one died of cholera in St. Joseph that year. Each spring these small hamlets became raucous boomtowns--as thousands of emigrants camped for days, or weeks while getting ready to begin the journey. Independence was by far the most popular point of departure in the Trail's early years. Emigrant/author Francis Parkman: "A multitude of shops had sprung up to furnish emigrants with necessaries for the journey. The streets were thronged with men, horses and mules. There was an incessant hammering and banging from a dozen blacksmiths' sheds, where the heavy wagons were being repaired, and the horses and oxen shod. While I was in the town, a train of emigrant wagons from Illinois passed through--a multitude of healthy children's faces were peeking out from under the covers of the wagons." Waiting By mid April, the prairie outside Independence was packed with emigrant campers-- often over three square miles worth. It was so crowded, one emigrant spent four days just trying to find his friends. This entire mass of humanity was waiting for the grass to grow. Heading west too early meant the grass wouldn't be long enough for the animals to graze along the way--a mistake that could be fatal. Supplies Emigrant Lansford Hastings: "In procuring supplies for this journey, the emigrant should provide himself with, at least, 200 pounds of flour, 150 pounds of bacon; ten pounds of coffee; twenty pounds of sugar; and ten pounds of salt." A family of four would need over a thousand pounds of food to sustain them on the 2000 mile journey to Oregon. The only practical way to haul that much food was a wagon. Power Horse, mule or oxen? What animal would pull the emigrant's covered wagons? That question was hotly debated among the Oregon-bound pioneers. Horses were quickly rejected because they could not live off prairie grasses along the way. As a result, most of the emigrants decided on oxen. They were strong; could live off grass or sage; and were less-expensive. Emigrant Peter Burnett: "The ox is a most noble animal, patient, thrifty, durable, gentle and does not run off. Those who come to this country will be in love with their oxen. The ox will plunge through mud, swim over streams, dive into thickets and he will eat almost anything." There was just one problem: oxen were slow—about 2 miles-per-hour. There was an alternative for those in a hurry: mules. Mules were faster, and they too could live off prairie grasses. But many believed mules didn't have quite the staying power of oxen. But perhaps the biggest problem with mules was their cantankerous disposition. Emigrant John Clark: "We had to risk our lives in roping them. After being kicked across the pen some half-dozen times and run over as often, we at last succeeded in leading them out. It was laughable." LEFT: The movies often show pioneers sitting in a wagon with a team of 2 oxen. That’s all wrong. Teams were 4, 6, even 18 animals. And, unlike a horse, someone has to walk along and “drive” an ox. Wagons Huge conestoga wagons were never used by the pioneers--they were just too unwieldy. Instead, the emigrants used small farm wagons. Although they appear simplistic, farm wagons of the 1840s were technologically-advanced vehicles. For example, the complex undercarriage centered around a kingpin, which allowed the front wheels to pivot, so the wagon could turn easily. And the front wheels are smaller than the ones in back--which also helped the wagons to round sharp corners. Even the width of the wheels was carefully calculated. Wide wheels were more effective in soft, sandy soil. Narrow wheels worked better on hard surfaces.The cotton covers were typically drawn shut at both ends to keep out the incessant dust. To keep out the rain, the covers were treated with linseed oil, but most eventually leaked anyway. The wagon box measured only four feet by ten feet. Most emigrants loaded them to the brim with food, farm implements and furniture--often over a ton of cargo. All this was supported by massive axles. If one broke, the travelers were in serious trouble. Without a spare, they would be forced to abandon their wagon or reconfigure it as a two-wheeled cart. Most wagons had several handy options: a toolbox on the side, a water barrel, and most importantly, hardwood brakes. By late April or early May the grass was long enough--and the journey began. Congestion When it was finally time to go, everyone wanted to get started at the same time--and the result was often a huge traffic jam. Even worse were greenhorns from cities back east, who had never before yoked an oxen or driven a mule team. They tipped their wagons, bumped into trees and couldn't even get their animals to go in the right direction. Overpacking Only a few miles outside of Independence, nearly all the emigrants realized they had grossly overloaded their wagons. Their only choice--start throwing things out. The trail was so littered with this debris, that scavengers from the jumping off towns would collect full wagon loads of flour, bacon--even cast iron stoves. The Route West A 2,000 mile walk or a year-long boat ride The first emigrants to Oregon came by ship before the Trail was established. Ships continued to to travel to Oregon even after the overland migrations began, but they were not popular among the pioneers. First, the fare for a sea journey to Oregon was quite expensive--few pioneer families could afford it. Second, most Oregon-bound pioneers came from the central states--far from any sea port. Lastly, the sea journey often took up to full year--versus 4-6 months by wagon. The Oregon Trail (more correctly, the Oregon-California Trail) generally follows the Platte River to its headwaters; and then crosses the mountains. In southern Idaho, the California Trail splits off (until this point, the Oregon Trail and the California Trail are one in the same). The Oregon Trail then follows the Snake River until it reached the Columbia--which flows into the Pacific. Hardships Walking 2,000 miles barefoot ​ Above: Crossing the Platte River. Drownings here were common. RIVER CROSSINGS River crossings were a constant source of distress for the pioneers. Hundreds drowned trying to cross the Kansas, North Platte and Columbia Rivers--among others. In 1850 alone, 37 people drowned trying to cross one particularly difficult river--the Green. Emigrant John B. Hill: "The ferryman allowed too many passengers to get in the boat, and the water came within two inches of the gunwale. He ordered every man to stand steady as the boat was liable to swamp. When we were nearly across the edge of the boat dipped; I thought the boat would be swamped instantly and drowned the last one of us." Those who didn't drown were usually fleeced. The charge ranged up to 16 dollars; almost the price of an oxen. One ferry earned $65,000 in just one summer. The emigrants complained bitterly. WALKING Because most emigrants grossly overloaded their wagons, few could ride inside. Instead most walked--many made the entire 2,000 mile journey on foot. ACCIDENTS The emigrant wagons didn't have any safety features. If someone fell under the massive wagon wheels, death was instant. Many lost their lives this way. Most often, the victims were children. Edward Lenox: "A little boy fell over the front end of the wagon during our journey. In his case, the great wheels rolled over the child's head----crushing it to pieces." WEATHER Great thunderstorms took their toll. A half-dozen emigrants were killed by lightning strikes; many others were injured by hail the size of apples. Pounding rains were especially difficult for the emigrants because there was no shelter on the open plains and the covered wagons eventually leaked. CHOLERA Perhaps the biggest problem on the Trail was a mysterious and deadly disease--called cholera for which there was no cure. Often, an emigrant would go from healthy to dead in just a few hours. Sometimes they received a proper burial, but often, the sick would be abandoned, in their beds, on the side of the trail. They would die alone. Making matters worse were animals that regularly dug up the dead and scattered the trail with human bones and body parts. Emigrant Agnes Stewart: "We camped at a place where a woman had been buried and the wolves dug her up. Her hair was there with a comb still in it. She had been buried too shallow. It seems a dreadful fate, but what is the difference? One cannot feel after the spirit is flown." Cholera killed more emigrants than anything else. In a bad year, some wagon trains lost two-thirds of their people. Emigrant John Clark: "One woman and two men lay dead on the grass and some more ready to die. Women and children crying, some hunting medicine and none to be found. With heartfelt sorrow, we looked around for some time until I felt unwell myself. Got up and moved forward one mile, so as to be out of hearing of crying and suffering." Camping Day after day after... After a few days on the trail, the emigrants would settle into a well-defined daily routine. Awake before sunup; yoke the oxen, cook the breakfast; and hit the trail. There was an hour break for lunch and at about six p.m., they set up camp. The emigrants did circle their wagons, but it wasn't for protection against the Native American tribes. Instead, the circle provided a convenient corral for loose livestock. Almost immediately the campfires started burning and dinner was begun. Cooking bread over a campfire was something of a challenge--the result was usually burned on the outside and doughy on the inside. Even worse, keeping bugs and dirt out of the mix was nearly impossible. When the Trail got crowded--in 1849 and later--camping became more difficult. The biggest problem was finding fuel for the campfires. Soon trees were scarce and there was only one alternative--buffalo dung. No one liked collecting it, but it did burn--and gave off a consistent odorless flame. Emigrant Goldsborough Bruff: "It is the duty of the cooks on arriving at a camping place to collect chips for cooking. It would amuse friends back home to see them make a grand rush for the largest and driest chips. The chips burn well when dry, but if damp or wet are smokey and almost fireproof." If they were lucky, the emigrants would have quail or buffalo with their bread. But most often, they ate bacon--day after day. Emigrant Rev. Samuel Parker: "Dry bread and bacon consisted our breakfast, dinner and supper. The bacon we cooked when we could obtain wood for fire; but when nothing but green grass could be seen, we ate our bacon without cooking." By nine p.m. they would bed down for the night. Some families had tents, but most just slept right on the ground. Pure exhaustion helped them get to sleep--but it wasn't comfortable: Emigrant Niles Searls: "We rose this morning from our bed upon the ground with sensations similar to that I imagine must pervade the frame of the inebriate----after a week's spree." At five a.m. the whole process started again; fifteen miles a day for nearly six months. Fun with Buffalo Dung ABOVE: Even after the Oregon Trail era, settlers in Nebraska used buffalo and cow dung to cook with—because the dried chips burned so well. If you think frisbees were invented in the 1960s, you're wrong--by about a hundred years. Children on the Oregon Trail threw frisbee-like devices back in the mid-1800s. But they weren't made of plastic--they were made of buffalo dung. During the great western migration, the entire Great Plains region was covered with buffalo chips--they were unavoidable. And yes, kids occasionally tossed them about in a frisbee-like manner. But the chips had a much more practical purpose for the emigrants--they were burned for fuel. There was no firewood along much of the Trail, so the only alternative was dried buffalo dung. Even though the pioneers were hardy, they didn't much enjoy gathering up bushels of chips every night. The chips burned surprisingly well, and produced an odor-free flame. Usually, each family had its own campfire, but sometimes everyone contributed their chips for one big bonfire. Native Americans On the Oregon Trail RELATIONSHIPS The first section of the Oregon Trail bisected two major Native American tribes--the Cheyenne to the north and the Pawnee to the south. The emigrants worried about both. But the expected attacks did not come. In fact, there were many instances of Native American kindness--helping pull out stuck wagons; rescuing drowning emigrants; even rounding up lost cattle. Most of the encounters with Native Americans were simple business transactions. The emigrants offered clothes, tobacco or rifles, in exchange for Native American horses or food. Within a few years, the emigrants had overgrazed the prairie grasses, burned all the available firewood, and depleted the buffalo. Soon many tribes along the Platte were impoverished. The emigrants worried a great deal about possible Native American attacks, but very few were ever actually killed by the native tribes. GRATTAN MASSACRE Perhaps the most important confrontation with the native tribes occurred near Ft. Laramie in 1854, and became known as the Grattan Massacre. It began innocently enough--a single cow wandered away from an emigrant wagon train. When the cow showed up at a nearby Sioux village, the tribe promptly ate it. An aggressive Lt. Grattan and 28 men then left Fort Laramie with a single objective--punish the Sioux. The Sioux recognized their error and offered a horse in return for the cow, but Grattan wasn't interested. He ordered his men to fire on the tribe. The Sioux chief told his warriors to withhold retaliation. Grattan fired again and killed the chief. Strikes and counterstrikes escalated into all-out war--the battles continued for decades. MASSACRE ROCKS INCIDENT For years, the Hudson's Bay Company had been a stabilizing force on the Native Americans who lived near the Snake River--but when the British fur-trading company pulled out in the early 1850s, attacks on emigrants increased substantially. The best-known incident happened near Massacre Rocks in what is now Southern Idaho. On August 9th, 1862 the attack came without warning. Within minutes, five emigrants were dead. The next morning the survivors regrouped and fought back. Emigrant John Hilman: "Thirty men went in pursuit of the Indians and found them seven miles distant. At first fire from the Indians, two thirds of the men turned and ran." In the resulting battle, four more emigrants were killed. After hearing about this battle (and several others) many wagon trains took an alternate route--the Goodale Cutoff--which steered clear of any "agitated" Native Americans along the Snake River. The cutoff skirted the edges of a strange set of geologic formations now known as Craters of the Moon. Yet even at the height of the Native American troubles, the majority of the emigrant wagons stayed on the main route along the south side of the Snake River. BEAR RIVER MASSACRE By the early 1860s, many felt a need to punish the tribes along the Trail. Col. Patrick Conner, stationed in Salt Lake City, was among those who wanted to teach the Native Americans a lesson. In January of 1863 Conner and his California Volunteers marched north to the Bear River. There, Conner's men brutally killed 400 Shoshoni men, women and children. More Native Americans died at Bear River than any other battle in western history. This grotesque attempt at genocide did have its intended effect. The Trail was safe for the emigrants--for a while. But word of the Bear Rive Massacre, and a similar event in Sand Creek Colorado, soon spread to tribes across the west. Native Americans had had enough--and they were about to begin fighting back.