by Don Berry
But McKenzie had his distillery aboard in addition to the whiskey. At the mouth of the Iowa River he put ashore a crew of laborers to start a corn farm to feed it. By the time Milton Sublette and the others arrived in August, the distillery was running, and running well. "Our manufactory flourishes admirably," McKenzie wrote a little later. "We want only corn to keep us going .... The Mandan corn yields badly but makes a fine, sweet liquor."
This was to Chouteau again, and in a letter to Ramsay Crooks: "It succeeds admirably. I have a good com mill, a respectable distillery, and can produce as fine a liquor as need be drunk." (These letters are quoted to demonstrate beyond question that the Company officials were well aware of the exact nature of the project.)
So McKenzie showed his visitors around, naively elated . over his success, and thereby set in motion the events which destroyed his usefulness to the Company and ended his career in the fur trade.
***
Milton and the others enjoyed the hospitality of the King of the Missouri for three days. Wyeth in particular was much impressed with what he found at Fort Union. McKenzie’s second-in-command was James Hamilton Palmer—"a man of superior education and an Englishman"—who was going under the name James Hamilton; reason unknown. McKenzie and Hamilton lived in style; there was a sophistication to them both which Wyeth duly noted. Fort Union was flourishing, a center of civilization by this time, with refinements to which the roving New Englander was now unaccustomed: milk, bread, bacon, cheese, butter, and such. In referring to Hamilton, Wyeth wrote: "I am perhaps presumptious in saying that I felt able to appreciate his refined politeness? Refined politeness, indeed! Shades of rendezvous must have flitted before Wyeth’s mind.
(While at the fort, Wyeth was shown a memento of his first expedition: a powder flask belonging to his man More, killed in Jackson’s Hole. Blackfeet had brought it in for trade.)
Now the bullboats were abandoned. For the trip down the Missouri proper they were provided with a Blackfoot pirogue, a cottonwood canoe of about twenty feet. On the 27th of August the three relinquished the hospitality of the Company and put out.
Fort Union was situated on the north bank of the river, some five or six miles (by water) above the mouth of the Yellowstone. Milton’s pirogue floated down to the confluence, and a few miles beyond. It was early in the evening when they came to the keelboat lying at anchor, and the brothers Sublette had a small family reunion.
Bill had just arrived, after planting small Sublette & Campbell posts (at least twelve or thirteen of them) at the Company locations on the river. There now remained the piéce de résistance, the principal fort corresponding to, and competing with, the Company’s Fort Union.
The burden of the actual building of Fort William (as it was called, after the elder Sublette) was to fall on Bob Campbell. Bill was to continue carrying the war to the Company from St. Louis. He was also, at this time, very ill—"at the point of Death," according to Campbell—and was under the simple physical necessity of getting back to civilization where he could get medical care of a slightly more sophisticated nature than was available in the mountains.
The exact nature of Bill Sublette's illness is not specified; his biographer postulates some respiratory disorder. Milton, too, had his troubles. He was suffering from a foot injury—again unspecifided—that was more serious than his older brother’s difficulty. This injury may well have been one reason why Milton was leaving the mountains temporarily; in any event it added impetus to his action in going with Wyeth.
In spite of his illness, Sublette received Wyeth "with much politeness," probably because he did not know of Wyeth’s arrangement with RMF for supplies. (Though it is true that the heads of all the companies—witness McLoughlin, McKenzie, etc.—received their competitors with the utmost cordiality. Even at rendezvous no one was averse to tapping a keg with the opposition, even while judiciously considering how to tap its profits. These little scenes of conviviality bring strongly to mind Chaucer’s "Smyer with the knyf under the cloke.") Wyeth remained at the anchored keelboat only overnight, departing the next moming. But he lost, for the time being, his most valuable passenger, Milton Sublette. Milton elected to remain behind until Bill took the keelboat back down again, probably because his foot injury made any kind of traveling difficult. The keelboat would, without doubt, be easier on him than Wyeth’s crowded little pirogue. Also, there was an exchange of information required at this point between the two brothers.
It seems clear that Milton Sublette was forced into assuming an active share of command in RMF along with Tom Fitzpatrick. The other partners—Bridger, Fraeb, and Gervais—were not inclined to concern themselves with the business end of RMF's operations. They were trappers, and that was all; they neither wanted to cope with other aspects, nor were they competent to do so.
This fall of ’33 Milton began to take things into his own hands, in an attempt to salvage something from the damage —that had already been done to the company’s finances. The first step was his arrangement with Wyeth for a trial supply' ing run.1 If Bill wanted RMF’s business, he was going to have to get it on a more equable basis than before. After all, if Wyeth were willing to supply for $6,500 what Bill gave for $15,000, the difference could easily be the difference between solvency and bankruptcy for RMF.
As a token of his newly assumed authority—and his intent to back it up—Milton flatly refused to pay part of Sublette‘s charges of the previous year; and a rather signifficant part it was.
According to the document as drawn up, Milton was acting ,'for himself and Thos Fitzpatrick H Freab James Bridger J B Iarvie."
. . . there is an Item in the account rendered by said[Bill] Sublette to the party of the second part [Milton & RMF] of Commission paid by Wm L Sublette to Wm H Ashley of Fifteen Hundred dollars for attending to the Sales of the Furs of the party of the Second part and which they . . . refuse to settle—the accounts therefore and receipts are passed leaving this charge unpaid.
It must be admitted that denying Ashley his little cut is taking a very hard line, indeed; amounting, almost to sacrilege, perhaps. Milton also insisted on having a few other things put in writing; apparently tired of leaving things entirely to the business honor of older brother Bill:
Having transacted business for The Rocky Mountain Fur Co last season by which a number of their notes and drafts came into my hands and left by me at my House in St. Louis Co Mo for safe Keeping I promise and agree to deliver over those Notes and drafts to said Rocky Mountain Co on their arrival there.2
An almost unbrotherly distrust would seem indicated; but then, the notes ought to have been turned over to RMF on settlement of accounts. Milton also very prudently refrained from telling Bill anything about the arrangement made between RMF and Wyeth. There was, after all, no point in giving him too much time to combat the move.
It was about the middle of September when Bill Sublette’s keelboat, with Milton as passenger, got off in Wyeth’s wake, leaving Campbell behind to complete the construction of Fort William and set up business. Campbell had about sixty men all told, some few of them hired under McKenzie's nose, and the work went rapidly. Fort William was finished by the middle of November, with the exception of a few minor buildings. It consisted of eight cabins and a number of supplementary storehouses within a stockade of about 130 by 150 feet. Like its competitor, Fort Union, it was on the north bank of the Missouri on raised ground. One of Campbell’s principal clerks was young Charles Larpenteur, a mangeur de lard on his first trip. (Larpenteur had received a sort of unofficial promotion at Rendezvous 1833, through his unique personal characteristics. He was a teetotaler; and thus about the only man they could rely on to remain sober enough to distribute the liquor to the other trappers while keeping a clear eye for progressive dilution and profit. Larpenteur later recorded his experiences in a book called Forty Years a Fur Trader, which has served as source for some of this material.)
II
Tom Fitzpatrick had taken over Campbell’s remaining hor
ses on about the 15th of August. While Milton was making his way down the Bighorn and Yellowstone to Fort Union, Fitz was working overland toward the valley of the Tongue River. Captain Stewart was with him, and Dr. Harrison; both getting their first taste of the gay and carefree trapping life.
About three weeks out, Fitz ran into a large Crow village. He made camp nearby, and rode over for a visit with the principal chief. Captain Stewart, having had considerable military experience, was left in charge of the camp. (This, incidentally, is a remarkable demonstration of the mountain men. To entrust an encampment to a mangeur de lard—military or no—was unheard of.)
While Fitz was engaged in friendly concourse with the Crow chief, a band of young Absaroka bucks from the same village swarmed down on the camp. The exact circumstances aren’t known; but they can be guessed fairly accurately.
The Crows—happily for the twenty or thirty trappers—remained Crow-like in their reluctance to kill whites. This precludes an outright attack. What is more likely is that the band simply infiltrated the camp in large numbers, joking, trading, wandering around, poking their noses into everything. In the course of time there would inevitably be at least one sturdy Absaroka near every desirable object. (Stewart, remember, was completely unfamiliar with the American Indian; and more, he knew the Crows were traditionally friendly to whites. In all probability he was completely unsuspecting; in the course of this narrative we’ve seen it happen to booshways of much greater experience than the Scotsman.)
At this point, with their hands on the reins both figuratively and literally, the Crows would have broken the bad news to Stewart and his companions.
Everything went. Horses, traps, guns, ammunition, furs—everything. When the happy Absaroka left the white camp they had cleaned them out in one grand coup, and without bloodshed.
· A grand game it was, and they were so happy about it they greeted Fitzpatrick with the utmost affection when they encountered him returning from their village. Fitz himself was persuaded to part with his horse, gun, most of his clothes and even his watch, and that kind of thing is enough to ruin a man’s whole day.
The furious Fitzpatrick stormed back to camp and found it, if possible, more desitute than himself. Then, by account (not his own), he went back to the Crow village and demanded restitution from the chief. The chief replied, as expected, that while he hadn’t anything to do with the affair, sometimes it was hard to control the young men. However, Fitz somehow managed to get a few horses back, and a few traps; enough that he could at least be moving on.
And by this time he was aware that it was just about time to be moving on. It was perfectly clear to him—and rightly so—that the Crows were not acting entirely independently. They were operating as a semi-detached arm of American Fur. In letters recounting the robbery Fitz places full and entire blame on the Company; and there is no doubt he was right.
And here, in a strange and cloudy way, we run into an old friend of ours. There were three agents of American Fur in Crow country this year. Tulloch, of course, at Fort Cass, and two other resident agents among the Crows, who were paid an annual salary by the Company to secure the Absaroka furs. Oneof these was a man named Winter and the other was no less a personage than James P. Beckwourth.
Beckwourth was getting $800 a year from McKenzie for his good offices among the Crows—(which amount he raises in Life and Adventures to a preposterous $3,000). James P. was traditionally given his part in this robbery, and he goes to great lengths to refute the accusation, inventing a wildly imaginative story in which he rescues Fitz and party from imminent peril and other such Beckwourthian adventures. Bernard DeVoto wrote about this: "The fantastic yarn he tells in rebuttal is sufficient evidence that those who accused him had the goods on him."
It may be so, though the fantastic yarn isn’t much evidence in itself; James P. was accustomed to doing such things up brown anyway. But it is at least certain that Beckwourth was (1) accused of it, and at great pains to deny it (2) perfectly well aware of the proceedings, whether or not he took actual part in them."
Fitz himself, with his small remaining stock of horses, immediately headed out of Crow territory, lucky to have even that to show for it. This was the final demonstration, if any was needed, of the solidity with which American Fur was now entrenched in the mountains. By the middle of November he was in camp on Ham’s Fork of the Green River again, and wrote two letters concerning this robbery. One was to Milton Sublette, the other to General Ashley. The one to Ashley was considerably more formal, inasmuch as it was probably intended to be read aloud in Congress. Fitz showed the touching concern for the United States that seemed so often to overwhelm trappers cadging for something from the government. In this case Fitz wanted two things: reparations from the Company for the outrage and, in effect, a law
against them.
Fitz tells of escorting Campbell to the Bighom, and goes on:
I set out to look for the crow Indians in order to obtain permission of them to make my fall hunt in their cuntery but before I had time for ceremony or form of any Kind they robed me and my men of every thing we possessed save some horsis and a fewtraps and all this accordingly to the advice of the american furr Co. as they then told me the agent of these people who was there present did not pretend to deny it, in short genl if theire is not Some alteration made in the system of business in this Cuntery Verry Soon it will become a nuisance and disgrace to the U.S. So many different Companies roving a bout from One tribe of Indians to another Pack all telling a different tale [illegible word] Slandering each other to Such a degree as really to disgust the Indians and will evidently all—become hostile towards the americans I now appeal to you for redress. . . . I ask no More than the laws of the U.S. dictates in Such Cases is it be cause they are More powerful than we are that they are allowed to be instrumental to Such acts of Violence on people who are licensed and authorised according to law. They have traping partis all over the indian Cuntery as well as we have and still more numerous and yet their Violation of the laws are over looked So as to allow them to deprive us of the produce of our dear bought labour if there is . no room for amendments in this system order us out of the Cuntery and we shall forthwith obey the command . . . or Say we are limited to any Certain part ofthe Cuntery and others in like manner then the indians in each boundary if properly manage Could be Kept in proper order otherwise they will all be come hostile in a Short time So Soon as one party will do perhaps another will arive next day to undo and in this Sort of way business is carried on . . . I shall await advice from the honorable Members in Session . . . Advice or instructions from you respecting our Case shall be faithfully attended to by
Your Most
Obt Servt
Thos Fitzpatrick
And to Milton, Fitz added that if they couldn’t obtain redress from the government "we will have to Lick it ourselves."
***
The redress, such as it was, was of a rather infuriating kind. The Company had the furs, all right. And McKenzie offered the following intelligence to Tulloch at Fort Cass, in January:
The 43 Beaver skins traded, marked "R.M.F. C0.," I would in the present instance give up if Mr. Fitzpatrick wishes to have them, on his paying the price the articles traded for them were worth on their arrival in the Crow village, and the expense of bringing the beaver in and securing it. My goods are brought into the country to trade and I would as willingly dispose of them to Mr. Fitzpatrick as to any one else for beaver or beaver’s worth, if I get my price. I make this proposal as a favor, not as a matter of right, for I consider the Indians entitled to trade any beaver in their possession to me or any other trader.
And McKenzie was happily able to end his report (to Pierre Chouteau) of Fitzpatrick’s misfortune by saying, "That party can consequently make no hunt this faIl."
Lucky McKenzie, on top of the heap. Again. But when he wrote those notes of triumph the wheels were already turning, and they had been set in motion by Nathaniel Wyeth, almost as an afterthought
.
III
When Wyeth set off on his canoe journey down the Missouri he had with him a half-breed Flathead, age thirteen, and a Nez Perce of around twenty. The Flathead, Baptiste, was the son of Francois Payette of HBC, one of the principal friends Wyeth had made among that company. Baptiste was going to the States with Wyeth to improve his education, learn a little English and to "read write and cypher tolerably well." The unnamed Nez Perce boy seems to have been a private responsibility of Wyeth’s.
The balance of his crew was made up by two "old hands as they call them selves"; Irving gives their blood-line as French Creole, Shawnee and Pottawattomie, which is mountain for white man anyway. These hunters provided Wyeth with a good deal of his amusement and pleasure, both during the bullboat passage to Fort Union and later on the Missouri.
The Yankee mangeur de lard found them "rnore conceited than good which I have generally found to be the case with the hunters in this country." He took a good deal of satisfaction in beating the old hands at their own game; and he could do it. (Wyeth was the fastest learner in the mountains, and by the time he got to Rendezvous 1833 from Fort Vancouver he could shine in any company. The only thing he didn’t learn fast enough was the business ethic.) He notes complacently that "Our hunters as usual having failed went myself and killed a [buffalo] cow."
He was conjdent of his own field ability—when Milton left him at the budding Fort William, Wyeth noted that "we are therefore left without any one who has decended the Missouri but I can go downstream"
All the way downriver. Wyeth visited the American Fur Company posts, and impartially paid his respects to their new satellites, the Sublette & Campbell agencies.
At Cantonment Leavenworth, which he reached in late September, Wyeth was received hospitably. Baptiste and the Nez Perce boy were vaccinated, terror-stricken by the military with their uniforms and knives on the end of their guns, and astonished by the women they saw.