Westons Go West 11 Little Soldier

February 5, 1878

Silverlode, Utah Territory

Dear Mary

I'm so pleased to hear about your new baby. And what an unusual name, Walker. I wonder what inspired you to call him that? Are you managing to keep up with your shop or have you taken time out?

How are you coping with the Indian problem? We've got both Ute or Shoshone here. The miners accuse the Chinese of selling alcohol to Indians; the Auerbach brothers who are the biggest Jewish traders in this area, trade for furs with Native people, and began a glove factory to turn those furs into salable goods. We have such a time here with the Indians buying liquor in our shop, and then promptly getting drunk and lying out in the alley outside, and picking fights. I don't suppose you have that sort of problem, as you probably don't sell liquor in your shop. I could go on for pages telling you stories about the things that happen here, but I expect you could do the same. Do drop me a line when you have some time.

 

All the best,

Fanny

*****

March 15, 1878

Dear Fanny,

Here's a bit about our local Indian's history. Although this region was frequented by many different bands, the most regular residents were a loosely associated group that came to be popularly known as the Weber Utes.   They numbered between two to eight hundred people, and were made up of intermarried families of Utes, Shoshones, and Goshutes.  As the name implies, they had a preference for camping along the Weber River. Their primary leader is a man named Little Soldier.

Like for other Indians, Mormons coming here in droves was devastating to the Weber Utes. Settlers fenced in the land, plowed up native roots and tubers, and grazed their cattle on wild grasses whose seeds the Indians depended upon for food.  They also pushed the game animals out of the valleys, and over-fished the streams and rivers.  As a result, the native people around Ogden were facing starvation within only a few short years of the Mormon's arrival.

By 1854, conditions for Ogden’s Native people had reached such a crisis level that even Young could no longer ignore it.

In early September, Brigham Young met with several groups and encouraged them to set up farms and settle down like the white man.  Naturally, however, there was little eagerness among them to give up their way of life and tradition of generations.  He insinuated that their hunger was their own failure for not having “raised any grain.”  He suggested that they migrate to buffalo country for the winter, and then reiterated his recommendation that they establish a farm once spring came so that they would no longer be “obliged to go away to hunt.”

Then a troubling report about the activities of the Weber Utes under Little Soldier.  They were killing calves, cutting down fence poles for firewood, and generally disturbing Ogden settlers.  When confronted, they exclaimed that “the grass that cows eat and the wood from which the fences are built belongs to the Indians.”

This time Brigham Young responded not with counsel, but with coercion.

A company of men arrived in Ogden, to disarm the Weber Ute men, compel the band to enter the Ogden settlement, and then forcibly distribute individual families among the settlers.  During the rest of the winter, the Natives would be made to work for the Mormons; their payment would be clothing and food.  They would not be allowed to leave of their own free will.

On the cold morning of December 1st, Mormon men descended upon the Indian camp located three miles away from Ogden, on the south side of the Weber River. When the party explained their orders, the Indians became extremely resistant and refused to accompany them anywhere.  “It is a day of gathering, and not of scattering,” declared Little Soldier.

Eventually, the Mormons did manage to convince the Natives to follow them into Ogden, although they still refused to give up their weapons.  With their belongings carried along by horse and wagon, the Weber Utes were allowed to establish a night camp near the Ogden River .

By the next morning, an armed posse marched the men, women, and children up Main Street to where the old tithing building stood.  Once there, the Mormons circulated themselves throughout the group so that they each stood beside an Indian man; they were to simultaneously disarm their partner as soon as the command was uttered. The weapons were then placed under guard at the tithing house.

In a last shot at resistance, a boy tore away from the group as soon as they were disarmed.  He charged his horse northward as fast as he could in a solitary effort to gain the assistance of an encampment of Indians staying at Bingham’s Fort.  James Brown chased after him with orders to “beat the boy into camp, or run Brown’s horse to death.”

He tied the boy in their race to Bingham’s Fort, and gave a rallying cry for all the Mormon men to capture and disarm the Natives there.  

Once all of that fort’s Natives were disarmed as well, he rode back to Ogden.  There in the streets, he saw that the Weber Utes were still very grim and sullen.  The men particularly expressed dismay; they said that without their guns, “We cannot hunt or defend our families. We are not anybody now.”  Most soon resigned themselves to being distributed throughout the settlement and they began putting up their tents in the settlers’ backyards.  Yet not all gave in and many went down to the Weber River again.  It took a letter from Brigham Young to reconcile them enough to return.

Little Soldier was especially heartened by this letter and spoke for a long time with his people about their situation.  After this, the settlers and the Natives got along reasonably well.

As James Brown worded it: “To us it did seem hard to have them feel so bad, but they had no means of support for the winter, the citizens could not afford to have their stock killed off and their fences burned, and it was the better policy to feed the Indians and have them under control.  They could husk corn, chop wood, help do chores, and be more comfortable than if left to roam; but for all that, they were deprived of that broad liberty to do which they and their fathers before them had been accustomed, therefore they felt it most keenly.”

In March 1855, Young said, “Upon their promising good behavior, Little Soldier’s band have had their arms delivered up to them and have been permitted to go out and come in at their pleasure; and happily have thus far complied with their compact, and are behaving commendably.” Ogden’s settlers returned the Natives’ weapons to them at a surprise feast, during which the guns and bows were laid out on blankets before them.  This reportedly caused them a great deal of happiness and relief.

Little Soldier's bunch of Indians who live near by us. We all like him very much. He and his wife and members of his band joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints some years ago.  Little Soldier had given up whiskey and said that he was “determined thenceforward never to touch the poisonous drug any more” – a promise that he faithfully kept.  

Just a few years ago Little Soldier and his wife, Wango-bit-y, (pictured above) traveled to the Endowment House in Salt Lake City where they received their endowment and were married for time and all eternity.

He and his tribe are now settled on an 80-acre tract and he works with other Indians and Mormon in building homestead cabins, fencing and farming the land and digging an irrigation canal. The area is called Brooms Bench, because it has tall sage brush growing all over it. Our children sometimes go over there and give them presents of meat and bread, and they give them back pretty beads which the girls like to wear. Most of the Indians are very friendly and they come to our houses to trade berries that they've picked for bread or salt or anything else they can get. But some of them go uptown on Saturday nights especially and they get whiskey from the unscrupulous saloons and men who have no respect for the law, and then they do go on rampage.

One night after the Indians had gone to town as usual, and Simon was away with church activities, I sat up late sewing and I was just about to go to bed when I heard someone going past the window. We don't have any locks on our doors – only latches. Anyone could lift the latch and the door would open. Before I could get my candle, the door opened and a big drunken Indian came in. I don't mind admitting that I was pretty scared of him. I asked him, “What do you want here?”

He said, “To sleep, I am tired and sleepy,” and I knew there was no use arguing with him, so I put the candle down, and went to get Isaac to ask him to go get Little Soldier to help us. But by the time he came back, the drunk Indian had fallen asleep under the table. When Little Soldier came, he was very firm and with the help of Isaac and Eban, they got him back to camp. Apparently he was punished by Little Soldier and forbidden to go to town again, but I invested in locks for our door after that.

Another problem we sometimes have is with clothes disappearing off the clothes line. You have to keep a close eye on them. And sometimes they steal silverware or tools. One of our neighbours who had put her washing out on her fence had the entire lot taken. And another thing that disappears is the fruit from the orchards. I'm not necessarily saying everything bad is done by Indians, as there are lots of tramps hereabout too.

One of the tramps went to the house of a widow with four children, and took a hatchet that was in the yard and struck the mother to the floor. The daughters tried to help and he struck them both too, killing one and injuring the other very badly Their screams of terror were heard and Simon and the older boys rushed to their help, taking stakes that they had been using to make a fence as weapons, but before they got to the house, the man had run away, and they started chasing him over the sage brush to the railway tracks, but he got away from them. The younger girl, Ellen, was staggering around with blood all over everything, and we helped get her to a friend's house.

The news of the tragedy spread, and men on horseback went out looking for the man, and found him hiding in some bushes near the Ogden River. Justice was speedy and sure, and nobody asked any questions.

The whole neighborhood lived in fear for awhile after that, with people afraid to go out at night. And for a long time, nobody was happy to give food to tramps either.

Two of our neighbour ladies, Lynne and Marriott, joined the silkworm project and began nurturing silkworms in their homes. At Broom’s Bench, near the Indian encampment, a large lot was planted in Mulberry trees to grow leaves to feed silkworms.  The trees and worms were imported from Italy and France. They started with a few worms and soon had thousands of them.

The worms ate continuously for six weeks and made much noise.  They can strip a branch of leaves in no time.  Then the larvae spin a cocoon; the cocoon is made of a thread of raw silk from 1000 to 3000 feet long. The project does produce silk fabric, but nobody knows how financially viable the project will be.

To answer your question about Walker, it was my mother's maiden name, and he is a fussy baby and much more demanding than Annie was. I stopped work for the time being, but take the children off with me to visit my good friend Lucelia, whose young son Matthew will be a good friend for our Walker in a few years' time. too. She talked me into getting involved in the Women's Legal Aid Society, and Alice is one of her recruits for the band of Willing Workers.

All for now.

Best wishes,

 

Mary

*****

December 15, 1878
Silverlode, Utah Territory

Dear Mary,

After my last letter, Abie and I received a dinner invitation from Bishop Aden of Adenville, who had heard of our Yom Kippur "sale" and wished to meet us. Also present at dinner was Father Giovanni, who is building a Catholic church for the Irish miners here. The two men have been working together on matters of their respective faiths and congregations. With three faiths at the table, it was nearly inevitable that conversation turn to Scripture, but aside from both men laboring under the impression that all Jews are as learned as rabbis - it was a good evening.

The dinner was good business, too, for the following week Bishop Aden came into Glassman's Emporium and made a few trivial purchases. Since then, Mormons have steadily (if modestly!) patronized Glassman's, and no longer go to St. George for such things as they can buy here.

So there at last is the trick of getting Mormon business: entice the local Bishop into buying from you!

Best wishes,

Fanny