This is Part 5 of a 17-part series. If you’ve already forgotten what happened in the last part, you can follow this link, and get yourself up-to-date.
To start at the beginning, follow this link.
Drive-by Massacres
He may have fumed about it, but he did as he was told by U.S. Consul Larkin. Fremont headed north for Oregon. But that was a long journey by horseback, and lots of things can happen on long journeys.
On March 30, 1846, his expedition reached the Lassen Ranch, in the upper Sacramento Valley. There, some American immigrants claimed that an encampment of Indians was preparing to attack white settlers.
This news offered just the kind of action Fremont and his men had been craving. They eagerly searched for the encampment. And on April 5, they encountered a large gathering of the Wintu tribe, near the current-day city of Redding, California.
Fremont ordered an advance on the camp.
The Wintu were pinned against the Sacramento River, and were unable to flee. They consisted mostly of women and children. They fought back as best as possible, but were no match for the well-armed advancing force.
Kit Carson was one of the attackers, and he described it as “perfect butchery”. Bucks, squaws, and papooses were cut down en masse by rifle fire. Many natives fled for the hills, or jumped in the river and tried to swim away. But they were chased down by Fremont’s men and tomahawked to death. Other members of the expedition stood on the river bank and took potshots at natives trying to swim to safety.
Up to 700 natives were killed on land, and 200 in the water, making the Sacramento River Massacre one of the bloodiest massacres of the West.
Fremont’s expedition continued into Oregon, killing Native Americans on sight, as they went. It was sort of like a modern-day, drive-by shooting rampage.
In the Oregon Territory, his forces met and murdered some of the Klamath people. But on May 9, 1846, they retaliated against Fremont, by killing several members of his expedition. Three days later Fremont conducted the Klamath Lake Massacre to “set things square”, killing 14 members of a nearby village.
But that’s how massacre math was done in those days. You set things square by taking the number of deaths on your side, then squaring it, and squaring it again. And that’s how many you kill on their side.
Fremont’s Return
In the middle of all this excitement, a U.S. Marine appeared. Lieutenant Archibald H. Gillespie had been sent from Washington with a secret message for both U.S. Consul Larkin, and Captain Fremont. On May 9, the same day the Klamath tribe killed members of Fremont’s party, Gillespie finally caught up with the man he was pursuing, and delivered the message. This message conveyed to the explorer that war with Mexico was inevitable.
Fremont’s eyes lit up when he read this missive. He saw an opportunity to realize his father-in-law’s Manifest Destiny ambitions, and get in really good with his wife’s side of the family. He and Gillespie immediately returned to California.
Meanwhile, more winds of war were blowing. U.S. Consul Larkin had sent a request to Commodore John D. Sloat of the U.S. Navy’s Pacific Squadron, for a warship to protect U.S. citizens and interests in Alta California. Sloat responded by sending the USS Portsmouth, which arrived in Monterey on April 22, 1846.

USS Portsmouth, sailing to the rescue.
Larkin and the Portsmouth captain, John Berrien Montgomery, learned of Fremont’s return to California. They figured the army Captain might need some support, so the Portsmouth was moved into San Francisco Bay in late-May, where it moored at Sausalito.
On May 24, 1846, Fremont arrived back at Lassen Ranch, in the upper Sacramento Valley, ready and hoping for war. There he learned about the presence of the USS Portsmouth.
He sent Lieutenant Gillespie to Sausalito to request supplies, including 8,000 percussion caps, 300 pounds of lead, one keg of powder, money, and food. His official reason for making this request was the pretext of supplying his expedition for the trip back to St. Louis. Yeah, right.
On May 30, 1846, Fremont arrived near Sutter Buttes, about 45 miles north of Sutter’s Fort, and set up camp. He decided his first move should be to take Sutter’s Fort and raise the American flag. Sutter’s Fort was in New Helvetia, which is now known as Sacramento.

Near the site of Fremont’s encampment, at Sutter Buttes. (Photo by Isaac Crumm, 1/6/07, from Wikipedia)
But first, there was more slaughtering to do. Local Native American groups were on the move, preparing for a harvest. But the paranoid Fremont imagined they were actually preparing for an imminent attack. So on May 31, he preemptively attacked the natives and killed several, in the Sutter Buttes Massacre.
Lieutenant Gillespie found the Portsmouth on June 7, and delivered Fremont’s request for supplies. These supplies were then taken by the ship’s launch, up the Sacramento River, to a site near Fremont’s camp at Sutter Buttes.
Come on back in a few days, for Part 6: The Instigation.
Categories: Series (History): Conquering California
Well, that was depressing. But it does read like much of human history and I’m sure back into undocumented times.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, unfortunately we humans have been massacring each other for thousands of years. Perhaps shining a spotlight on such events helps to prevent future atrocities, but I kind of doubt it.
LikeLike
It is happening right now in a few difference places. Doesn’t seem like it is letting up.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think Africa is one such place. It’s not a very safe continent to visit. And then there was ISIS, and all their slaughtering and killing. Of course, we had our massacres in Vietnam, and who knows, maybe even Iraq and Afghanistan. No, it’s not really letting up.
LikeLike
Fremont = a nasty piece of work!
LikeLiked by 1 person
And yet, we’ve named some of our streets and cities after him. Sad that one of our celebrated Western heroes had such an appetite for killing. But back in those days the attitude among many Americans was that the only good Indian was a dead Indian.
LikeLike
But even though I am not liking Freemont, here is another shiny apple for the teacher. 🍎
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh boy! (crunch). And no worm. You deserve a pat on the head. (pat-pat)
LikeLike
Oooh I hope you enjoyed what may be your last apple!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m reversing the pat: (tap-tap)
LikeLike
LOL!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am really not liking Freemont too well right now!
Very sad! And have we learned anything from the bloody trails we have left? I am afraid not!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, it’s hard to like a guy with so much blood on his hands. But I’ll bet his mother loved him.
LikeLike
You are probably right!
LikeLiked by 1 person
if only the natives had
bigger deadly germs.
the rest are best remembered
as names of streets 🙂
LikeLike
maybe if they
were small pox carriers
rather than us,
they’d have chased us
to Europe.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, they brought the Europeans syphilis, but I guess that wasn’t as effective.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh that’s right. Didn’t we get it from fucking lamas or some damn thing?
LikeLike
I can only speak for myself on this point.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Heh-heh. Well speaking for myself, I never fucked a lama. At least not that I can remember. Then again, they say that in the advanced stages of syphilis you tend to lose your memory.
LikeLike
So much killing. I guess there never really has been justice has there.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I guess not. Nor peace. Perhaps justice is reserved for those who can shoot the hardest or run the fastest.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It sadly seems so.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I echo Jason Frel’s comment – this was very depressing … especially if you’re a Native American. “Butchery” describes it perfectly. I think I’ll end it there before I go on a rant.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And it was so unnecessary. The natives weren’t posing any kind of threat to Fremont. I think it was a thrill-kill for him, and could have backfired had the tribes organized a large war party in retaliation.
LikeLike
People who are thrilled by the kill of anything are scary!
LikeLiked by 1 person