Copyright 2002 by Virginia Vallee Delaney
In the code of the west, the men protect the women. Zane Grey makes this clear and often he is right. But in the case of a young Indian mother, named Woman Dress, it was the other way around. Bravely, on her own, she faced danger and saved the lives of fifteen strong men. It happened in the spring of 1868 on the Oregon Trail near Split Rock, Wyoming. At least two witnesses verify the event.
The drama began in early March at Fort Laramie with high hopes and much preparation as a group of miners and teamsters, including Jules Lamoreaux, assembled a small caravan for a journey west to the new town of South Pass City. They had a long trip ahead, almost 300 miles. They would follow the Oregon Trail which by then was a well traveled road.
Gold discoveries had been made near South Pass City the year before, in 1867. Apparently this was the reason for the urgency that drove the Lamoreaux party forth so early in the year. A potential gold rush emboldened them to invite the danger of Indian attacks as well as face mud, swollen rivers and spring storms
Indian hostilities at that time were a real threat and for good reason. 14 years earlier, in 1854, a callow lieutenant, John Grattan and his drunken interpreter foolishly instigated an incident over a cow allegedly stolen by a Sioux Indian. By initiating unwarranted violence and killing a chief trying to make peace, Grattan led 30 U.S. soldiers to their deaths. Years of reprisals and resistance and more reprisals followed. To make matters worse, the Civil War (1861-1864) hardened hearts and acerbated high handed treatment of the Indian people. It was at Fort Laramie in 1865 that Colonel Thomas Moonlight executed two Sioux leaders. It was from Fort Laramie that the Powder River expedition was launched against the Sioux and Cheyenne. Although in 1868 peaceful negotiations were underway, anger still filled the air.
Against these odds, the Lamoreaux party left Fort Laramie on March 10, a time when snow is still deep in the mountains and nights frosty cold on the high plains. Not only were roads rutted with ice and mud but the next 300 miles was virtually deserted that time of year. If they got into trouble, there was no one to lend a friendly hand. In the wide open spaces there were very few places to hide.
They were not a large party. The Lamoreaux company, consisting of 15 men plus Mrs. Jules (Lizzy) Lamoreaux and two young Lamoreaux children. They traveled with eight wagons, heavily loaded. Four belonged to Jules Lamoreaux. He drove two hitched together and drawn by four yoke of oxen. A hired teamster, W. P. Noble, drove the other two, pulled by three yoke of oxen. Others of the party were on horseback. Probably there were some pack mules and a dog or two.
The first few days went well but after 50 miles, near where Orin Junction is today, they heard shots. In broad daylight a small party of Indians rode into view and made threatening gestures. The Indians did not come near enough to be in range of fire. The Indians soon rode away and disappeared over the horizon.
Prudent men would have returned to Fort Laramie, but our travelers continued on.
Their troubles were not over. After another 50 or 60 miles, near the present city of Casper, they were again in danger of attack. This time the Lamoreaux party circled their wagons and spent the night in position to defend themselves. We have no record of the disputation in the circle of wagons that evening but a compelling force over rode wise council. Morning came with no sign of Indians and the party continued its journey to South Pass City. The men kept a sharp look out.
For the next hundred miles the travelers saw no hostile Indians and they began to relax. Then, when they were in the vicinity of Split Rock on the Oregon Trail, they were confronted by a large war party. The travelers again circled their wagons but it seemed a vain gesture because they were far outnumbered. Soon they were surrounded. The Indians commenced shouting. Arrows and bullets began to fly.
Then over the noise, the unexpected happened. The voice of a woman could be heard calling out loud and strong. It was Mrs. Lamoreaux. She was shouting with full lung power and she was shouting in the Sioux language.
Her words carried to the Indians who, in amazement, stopped shooting. She climbed down from the wagon where she had been out of sight with her children and walked to where the Indians could see her. Vulnerable and large with child she stood as still as a prairie dog by a hole. All eyes focused on her and all hearts wondered at her courage.
A long minute passed, then she broke the silence. Booming forth in a strong confident voice, she declared, “I am Woman Dress”.
The Indians, whom she had recognized as Sioux, remained still. She went on in a firm commanding tone, “I am sister of your chief, Gall. Beware lest you harm me or my children. Go away or you will rue it”.
She came closer so they could see her clearly. She stood tall and calm.
Time halted while the Indians stared at this intrepid woman. Long minutes passed in silence on that lonely stretch of road. Then the miracle happened. One by one the Indians left until all was serene at Split Rock. The danger was over. The party of white men, one woman, and two small children continue its journey undisturbed.
On April 24, the caravan arrived at Willow Creek near South Pass City. The train of wagons had traveled almost 300 dangerous and difficult miles in 45 days. They had been saved from disaster by a woman who was born Sioux and whose Indian name was Woman Dress.
But there is more. On the day after they arrived, April 25, 1868, Mrs. Lamoreaux gave birth to a son. She named her baby “Willow” because he was born under a spread of willows near Willow Creek. They called him “Willy” and later “Bill”. He was also known as “Smiling Fox” by the Indians.
The above is reported in a article in Annals of Wyoming 1955. It was told in part by J. Farlow to the participants of Oregon Trail No. Five (July 1955). Along with Farlow’s comments was a long quote by W. P. Noble, an eyewitness to the event. Farlow, who said he had heard the story more than once directly from Jules Lamoreaux, verified Noble’s rendition. I added some background for perspective. The information on Fort Laramie is from The Reader’s Ency. of the American West © 1977 edited by Howard Lamar, p 390 [B308]
The End
In the code of the west, the men protect the women. Zane Grey makes this clear and often he is right. But in the case of a young Indian mother, named Woman Dress, it was the other way around. Bravely, on her own, she faced danger and saved the lives of fifteen strong men. It happened in the spring of 1868 on the Oregon Trail near Split Rock, Wyoming. At least two witnesses verify the event.
The drama began in early March at Fort Laramie with high hopes and much preparation as a group of miners and teamsters, including Jules Lamoreaux, assembled a small caravan for a journey west to the new town of South Pass City. They had a long trip ahead, almost 300 miles. They would follow the Oregon Trail which by then was a well traveled road.
Gold discoveries had been made near South Pass City the year before, in 1867. Apparently this was the reason for the urgency that drove the Lamoreaux party forth so early in the year. A potential gold rush emboldened them to invite the danger of Indian attacks as well as face mud, swollen rivers and spring storms
Indian hostilities at that time were a real threat and for good reason. 14 years earlier, in 1854, a callow lieutenant, John Grattan and his drunken interpreter foolishly instigated an incident over a cow allegedly stolen by a Sioux Indian. By initiating unwarranted violence and killing a chief trying to make peace, Grattan led 30 U.S. soldiers to their deaths. Years of reprisals and resistance and more reprisals followed. To make matters worse, the Civil War (1861-1864) hardened hearts and acerbated high handed treatment of the Indian people. It was at Fort Laramie in 1865 that Colonel Thomas Moonlight executed two Sioux leaders. It was from Fort Laramie that the Powder River expedition was launched against the Sioux and Cheyenne. Although in 1868 peaceful negotiations were underway, anger still filled the air.
Against these odds, the Lamoreaux party left Fort Laramie on March 10, a time when snow is still deep in the mountains and nights frosty cold on the high plains. Not only were roads rutted with ice and mud but the next 300 miles was virtually deserted that time of year. If they got into trouble, there was no one to lend a friendly hand. In the wide open spaces there were very few places to hide.
They were not a large party. The Lamoreaux company, consisting of 15 men plus Mrs. Jules (Lizzy) Lamoreaux and two young Lamoreaux children. They traveled with eight wagons, heavily loaded. Four belonged to Jules Lamoreaux. He drove two hitched together and drawn by four yoke of oxen. A hired teamster, W. P. Noble, drove the other two, pulled by three yoke of oxen. Others of the party were on horseback. Probably there were some pack mules and a dog or two.
The first few days went well but after 50 miles, near where Orin Junction is today, they heard shots. In broad daylight a small party of Indians rode into view and made threatening gestures. The Indians did not come near enough to be in range of fire. The Indians soon rode away and disappeared over the horizon.
Prudent men would have returned to Fort Laramie, but our travelers continued on.
Their troubles were not over. After another 50 or 60 miles, near the present city of Casper, they were again in danger of attack. This time the Lamoreaux party circled their wagons and spent the night in position to defend themselves. We have no record of the disputation in the circle of wagons that evening but a compelling force over rode wise council. Morning came with no sign of Indians and the party continued its journey to South Pass City. The men kept a sharp look out.
For the next hundred miles the travelers saw no hostile Indians and they began to relax. Then, when they were in the vicinity of Split Rock on the Oregon Trail, they were confronted by a large war party. The travelers again circled their wagons but it seemed a vain gesture because they were far outnumbered. Soon they were surrounded. The Indians commenced shouting. Arrows and bullets began to fly.
Then over the noise, the unexpected happened. The voice of a woman could be heard calling out loud and strong. It was Mrs. Lamoreaux. She was shouting with full lung power and she was shouting in the Sioux language.
Her words carried to the Indians who, in amazement, stopped shooting. She climbed down from the wagon where she had been out of sight with her children and walked to where the Indians could see her. Vulnerable and large with child she stood as still as a prairie dog by a hole. All eyes focused on her and all hearts wondered at her courage.
A long minute passed, then she broke the silence. Booming forth in a strong confident voice, she declared, “I am Woman Dress”.
The Indians, whom she had recognized as Sioux, remained still. She went on in a firm commanding tone, “I am sister of your chief, Gall. Beware lest you harm me or my children. Go away or you will rue it”.
She came closer so they could see her clearly. She stood tall and calm.
Time halted while the Indians stared at this intrepid woman. Long minutes passed in silence on that lonely stretch of road. Then the miracle happened. One by one the Indians left until all was serene at Split Rock. The danger was over. The party of white men, one woman, and two small children continue its journey undisturbed.
On April 24, the caravan arrived at Willow Creek near South Pass City. The train of wagons had traveled almost 300 dangerous and difficult miles in 45 days. They had been saved from disaster by a woman who was born Sioux and whose Indian name was Woman Dress.
But there is more. On the day after they arrived, April 25, 1868, Mrs. Lamoreaux gave birth to a son. She named her baby “Willow” because he was born under a spread of willows near Willow Creek. They called him “Willy” and later “Bill”. He was also known as “Smiling Fox” by the Indians.
The above is reported in a article in Annals of Wyoming 1955. It was told in part by J. Farlow to the participants of Oregon Trail No. Five (July 1955). Along with Farlow’s comments was a long quote by W. P. Noble, an eyewitness to the event. Farlow, who said he had heard the story more than once directly from Jules Lamoreaux, verified Noble’s rendition. I added some background for perspective. The information on Fort Laramie is from The Reader’s Ency. of the American West © 1977 edited by Howard Lamar, p 390 [B308]
The End