One very short but interesting stop along the road from Twin Falls to West Yellowstone involved some inscriptions from long ago. Driving along, we’d notice signs mentioning Massacre Rocks State Park and Register Rock.
Located along the Snake River west of American Falls, Massacre Rocks State Park features a famous configuration of boulders along the south bank of the Snake, known alternatively as “Massacre Rocks”, “Gate of Death,” or “Devil’s Gate.”
A famous spot along the Oregon Trail and California Trail during the mid 19th century, emigrants gave this name to the narrow passage of the trail through the rocks, from the fear of possible ambush by Native Americans. According to diaries of emigrants, settlers in five wagons clashed with Shoshone just east of the rocks on August 9th and 10th, 1862. Eleven emigrants and 20 Shoshone died in the fight, which involved four wagon trains.
The remains of an extinct volcano, the rocks were often used as a campsite for wagon trains along the trail. Many emigrants carved their names and dates on the rock face, now protected by a shelter. The actual passage through the rocks is now Interstate 86 along the south edge of the park.
Look closely at the picture above. H. Chestnut signed the rock on August 20, 1862, just days after wagons fought with the Shoshone. How many children sat and read by these rocks, resting their feet after running alongside the wagon trains all day. Of all the things we saw on our honeymoon, this is one that still haunts me.
Troubled by conflicting accounts, I found actual diary accounts to read for myself, after so many have rewritten the facts. History is most interesting when one can find first hand accounts of events that took lives. There are those that believe any talk of massacres were just tales of the wild, wild west. Of course, the Native Americans were the most peaceful of peaceful. The settlers had nothing better to do than kill as they traveled through. Read some actual journals where truth is written on both sides.
Here’s a suggestion. First, go out into the desert on a moonless night, at least 20 miles from the nearest town. Then, only protected by a thin blanket, sit on the ground and listen to everything from breezes to coyote howls. After having listened to stories of attacks all day long and near the point of exhaustion, wait for the attacks to come to your wagon train. Staying alive took courage, stealth, and quick reflexes of people from both sides.
Just this week, there was a televised statement from a Native American man that no indigenous people ever scalped anyone. All-rightly then. Gotta love historical accounts of 1862 rewritten in 2023.
How could there be an actual count of men, women, and children killed in the action from either side? I’m sure both sides embellished stories that never happened, while those accounts too horrendous to tell died with those at the scenes.
In the diary of Henry M Judson 1862, he mentions, Jas Crawford, J Adams, John Walker, A. J. Cassidy and many more were wounded. I’d much prefer to read their journaled accounts to thoughts of historians writing today. As a writer, I’m thankful to Mr. Judson and other settlers for taking the time to write down their personal accounts of their journey.
Windmills???? In such a sacred place???? I hope H. Chestnut and T.J. Wilcox understand. I also hope they understand the need to hide their “Register Rock” behind chain link fencing to prevent defacing. Our world is certainly a mixed up place.
As Thanksgiving draws closer, remember your own ancestors and the bravery it took to survive and thrive in our beautiful country. The sacrifices they made to start new lives in the west were breathtaking. Bloodshed and illnesses be damned, the pioneers of 1862 had set their goals. Taking time to carve their names in rocks, they’re still remembered 161 years later by two honeymooners.
Although still considered the wild west by some, I wouldn’t trade my life on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada for anything. Hope you feel the same about your home town!
More tomorrow.