Man Behind Cuyama Valley Indian Massacre (12 pages)

VOLUME12/NO0. 3 THECALIFORNIANS PAGE 3 3 with Frémont's high regard for Godey and Carson’s bold adventure, however. Charles Preuss, a German map maker with the expedition, disapproved of the three men’s view and treatment of the Indians. Preuss kept a secret diary of their travels — “secret” because Frémont would not allow anyone on any of his expeditions to keep a journal. In this diary, Preuss charged that Carson and Godey had sneaked up on the Paiutes, shooting randomly. Indeed, Preuss wrote, Frémont himself “would exchange all observations for a scalp taken by his own hand” and that Carson “ actually bought an Indian boy for forty dollars. .. In a few years he hopes to have trained him .. so that at least he will be able to steal horses.” stood how invaluable Godey was to the Americans. The rancho years. Though different dates are given as to exactly when Godey located and left the Cuyama ranch, he was superintendent of Indians at the El Tejon reservation in 1855 and ’56, where he settled after leaving Frémont. When Godey’s old friend Jesus Cordova passed through the El Tejon in 1857, they renewed their friendship. When Godey told Cordova that he was looking for a good cattle range that was still open, his friend showed him the then-vacant Cuyama property. Title to the land had been given to Cesario Lataillade in 1846 (Cuyama #2, now known as By 1863, Harrington reports, Godey was at loggerheads with Lieutenant Robert Daley of the 2nd Cavalry, California Volunteers, over management of the Owens Valley Indians on the Tejon reserve. Daley said that Godey was bothering the Indians in every possible way, even driving cattle through the rancheria to make them move. If Godey’s intention was to get rid of the Indians he succeeded, for in only one year (according to an unnamed source cited by Harrington), the number of Owens Valley Indians on the Tejon reserve dwindled from 1,100 to 200. Cordova was Godey’s first foreman, followed by A. Vincent Castro and, later, the notorious El Chihuahua, who served as foreman through the 1860s, his brother Previously, on his third — expedition, Frémont had allowed his men, including Godey, to slash their way through several villages using their rifles and sabres. Carson himself later acknowledged _ that “The number killed I cannot say. It was perfect butchery.” The reason Frémont gave for ordering these bloody attacks “On my uncle’s ranch I found El Chihuahua, a shrivelled, bent old man with long white beard and long hair, sitting on a bench in front of the hut my uncle had given him, very different from the tall vaquero I remembered. There he sat, with a strange, hunted look in his eyes, drawing pictures in the sand with his cane, hour after hour. He had been a wicked man, but it was pitiful to see.” Ramon also working with him. El Chihuahua, also called Leonardo at El Tejon, was known to be dangerous; why Godey trusted him to be his foreman is not known. According to Harrington's unidentified ranchero, Goloy “was a sin vergiienza, a shameless one; and everyone knew he _ harbored dangerous men, hiding away from their was that he had been told that 1,000 Indians were about to attack Americans who had settled in Northem California. Frémont’s men, including Godey, also burned a large Klamath village of 50 lodges, killing everyone they could find in revenge for an attack by the Klamath Indians on Frémont’s camp one early morning in which three of his men were killed. Historian Rolle notes that one participant recorded that “We made it a tule to spare none of the bucks.” Frémont wrote that “I had kept the promise I had made to myself and had punished these people well for their treachery.” This and other engagements involving Godey led Frémont to praise him as “quick in deciding and prompt in acting,” also possessing “the French élan and their gayety of courage,” being “insensible to danger, of perfect coolness, and stubborn resolution.” As Harrington notes, Godey, a lieutenant at the battle of San Pasqual, “was one of the first three messengers sent to San Diego for help, and was captured by Andrés Pico on his return, within sight of Kearney’s camp. ” westingly, Pico treated Godey “as a sins (in Frémont’s words) yet, when a was bexchange was proposed, Pico remore pdease Godey because he underthe Russell ranch). Lataillade, a SpanishFrench trader and Spanish viceconsul, was one of the first Europeans to come to California by way of Mexico. After his death in 1849 his wife, Maria Antonia de la Guerra, had inherited the ranch but in 1852, after California became a state, the Lataillade family had difficulty establishing title to it. Though the Lataillade heirs eventually got their property back — in 1872! — in the interim, Godey took advantage of the situation and settled on the land, stocking it with 1,000 head of cattle and building an adobe house. In any case, by 1857, Godey was at the Cuyama ranch, where he served as counselor to the “Indian Service” under Edward Fitzgerald Beale until 1864. While living at El Tejon, Godey tried to stuff the ballot box to help Presidential candidate Frémont by using the Indians: he asked someone to mark up ballots for himself and all the Indians in favor of Frémont. But his scheme backfired. The man he had asked to prepare the ballots and stuff the boxes happened to be for Buchanan, and Godey couldn’t read. When the count was taken, there was not one vote for Frémont in the area. crimes, like El Chihuahua.” The old ranchero himself remembered El Chihuahua as “a tall, strong man before his sins weighed him down. His real name was Ramirez, but he came from Chihuahua in Mexico.” Explaining to Harrington why he was so certain the tale of Godoy poisoning the Indians was true, when the event occurred before he himself was born, the old ranchero told the following story: One time, long after Godoy and El Chihuahua had left Cuyama, I went to visit my uncle in Mexico, and one day he said to me: “Nephew, can you guess who is living here on my ranch, somebody from Cuyama?” When I said “no” he told me it was El Chihuahua himself! I went to see him, and found him a shrivelled, bent old man with long white beard and long hair, sitting on a bench in front of the hut my uncle had given him, very different from the tall vaquero I remembered. There he sat, with a strange, hunted look in his eyes, drawing pictures in the sand with his cane, hour after hour. 1 knew that he had been a wicked man, but it was pitiful to see him in that condition.

VOLUME12/NO0. 3 THECALIFORNIANS PAGE 3 3 with Frémont's high regard for Godey and Carson’s bold adventure, however. Charles Preuss, a German map maker with the expedition, disapproved of the three men’s view and treatment of the Indians. Preuss kept a secret diary of their travels — “secret” because Frémont would not allow anyone on any of his expeditions to keep a journal. In this diary, Preuss charged that Carson and Godey had sneaked up on the Paiutes, shooting randomly. Indeed, Preuss wrote, Frémont himself “would exchange all observations for a scalp taken by his own hand” and that Carson “ actually bought an Indian boy for forty dollars. ... In a few years he hopes to have trained him ... so that at least he will be able to steal horses.” stood how invaluable Godey was to the Americans. The rancho years. Though different dates are given as to exactly when Godey located and left the Cuyama ranch, he was superintendent of Indians at the El Tejon reservation in 1855 and ’56, where he settled after leaving Frémont. When Godey’s old friend Jesus Cordova passed through the El Tejon in 1857, they renewed their friendship. When Godey told Cordova that he was looking for a good cattle range that was still open, his friend showed him the then-vacant Cuyama property. Title to the land had been given to Cesario Lataillade in 1846 (Cuyama #2, now known as By 1863, Harrington reports, Godey was at loggerheads with Lieutenant Robert Daley of the 2nd Cavalry, California Volunteers, over management of the Owens Valley Indians on the Tejon reserve. Daley said that Godey was bothering the Indians in every possible way, even driving cattle through the rancheria to make them move. If Godey’s intention was to get rid of the Indians he succeeded, for in only one year (according to an unnamed source cited by Harrington), the number of Owens Valley Indians on the Tejon reserve dwindled from 1,100 to 200. Cordova was Godey’s first foreman, followed by A. Vincent Castro and, later, the notorious El Chihuahua, who served as foreman through the 1860s, his brother Previously, on his third — expedition, Frémont had allowed his men, including Godey, to slash their way through several villages using their rifles and sabres. Carson himself later acknowledged _ that “The number killed I cannot say. It was perfect butchery.” The reason Frémont gave for ordering these bloody attacks “On my uncle’s ranch I found El Chihuahua, a shrivelled, bent old man with long white beard and long hair, sitting on a bench in front of the hut my uncle had given him, very different from the tall vaquero I remembered. There he sat, with a strange, hunted look in his eyes, drawing pictures in the sand with his cane, hour after hour. He had been a wicked man, but it was pitiful to see.” Ramon also working with him. El Chihuahua, also called Leonardo at El Tejon, was known to be dangerous; why Godey trusted him to be his foreman is not known. According to Harrington's unidentified ranchero, Goloy “was a sin vergiienza, a shameless one; and everyone knew he _ harbored dangerous men, hiding away from their was that he had been told that 1,000 Indians were about to attack Americans who had settled in Northem California. Frémont’s men, including

Godey, also burned a large Klamath village of 50 lodges, killing everyone they could find in revenge for an attack by the Klamath Indians on Frémont’s camp one early morning in which three of his men were killed. Historian Rolle notes that one participant recorded that “We made it a tule to spare none of the bucks.” Frémont wrote that “I had kept the promise I had made to myself and had punished these people well for their treachery.” This and other engagements involving Godey led Frémont to praise him as “quick in deciding and prompt in acting,” also possessing “the French élan and their gayety of courage,” being “insensible to danger, of perfect coolness, and stubborn resolution.” As Harrington notes, Godey, a lieutenant at the battle of San Pasqual, “was one of the first three messengers sent to San Diego for help, and was captured by Andrés Pico on his return, within sight of Kearney’s camp. ” westingly, Pico treated Godey “as a sins (in Frémont’s words) yet, when a was bexchange was proposed, Pico remore pdease Godey because he underthe Russell ranch). Lataillade, a SpanishFrench trader and Spanish viceconsul, was one of the first Europeans to come to California by way of Mexico. After his death in 1849 his wife, Maria Antonia de la Guerra, had inherited the ranch but in 1852, after California became a state, the Lataillade family had difficulty establishing title to it. Though the Lataillade heirs eventually got their property back — in 1872! — in the interim, Godey took advantage of the situation and settled on the land, stocking it with 1,000 head of cattle and building an adobe house. In any case, by 1857, Godey was at the Cuyama ranch, where he served as counselor to the “Indian Service” under Edward Fitzgerald Beale until 1864. While living at El Tejon, Godey tried to stuff the ballot box to help Presidential candidate Frémont by using the Indians: he asked someone to mark up ballots for himself and all the Indians in favor of Frémont. But his scheme backfired. The man he had asked to prepare the ballots and stuff the boxes happened to be for Buchanan, and Godey couldn’t read. When the count was taken, there was not one vote for Frémont in the area. crimes, like El Chihuahua.” The old ranchero himself remembered El Chihuahua as “a tall, strong man before his sins weighed him down. His real name was Ramirez, but he came from Chihuahua in Mexico.” Explaining to Harrington why he was so certain the tale of Godoy poisoning the Indians was true, when the event occurred before he himself was born, the old ranchero told the following story: One time, long after Godoy and El Chihuahua had left Cuyama, I went to visit my uncle in Mexico, and one day he said to me: “Nephew, can you guess who is living here on my ranch, somebody from Cuyama?” When I said “no” he told me it was El Chihuahua himself! I went to see him, and found him a shrivelled, bent old man with long white beard and long hair, sitting on a bench in front of the hut my uncle had given him, very different from the tall vaquero I remembered. There he sat, with a strange, hunted look in his eyes, drawing pictures in the sand with his cane, hour after hour. 1 knew that he had been a wicked man, but it was pitiful to see him in that condition.