Wild West – June 2019

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JUNE 2019 WILD WEST 51

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of U.S. Army Regulars and militia units from the gold camps
marching east over the Sierras.
In Virginia City a roving patrol heard noises on the outskirts
of camp and sounded the alarm. Morning investigation revealed
a jackass caught in a stand of brush. “It is deplorable as well as
mortifying to see able-bodied men giving way so readily to
childish fears,” wrote one of the camp’s cooler heads.
The soldiers and militia units reached Virginia City in the
coming days. None of the serving officers possessed the stature
to command the disparate units, but as luck would have it, vis-
iting town was the most renowned Indian fighter in the United
States—former Texas Ranger John Coffee Hays. A man of as-
tounding personal courage, Jack Hays had risen through the
ranks of the Texas Rangers fighting Comanches and Mexicans
since the founding of the Texas Republic. Hays had commanded
regiments of Texas Rangers in the 1846–48 Mexican War, served
a stint as an Indian agent in New Mexico and Arizona terri-
tories, then joined the California Gold Rush. He was elected
San Francisco’s first county sheriff in 1850 and was later ap-
pointed U.S. surveyor general for California. A 43-year-old
resident of Oakland in 1860, Hays had come to Virginia City to
pursue business opportunities and was likely in the camp at
the time of the Williams Station raid. If so, however, he played
no part in the Ormsby fiasco.
On May 22, as Indian raiders struck four remote
Pony Express stations in the deserts to the east
and brought overland mail service to a standstill,
the militias elected Hays colonel. Many soon
regretted their choice, as in addition to being
a genius at irregular warfare, Hays was also
a notorious disciplinarian. In late May, after a
small skirmish near Williams Station, Colonel
Hays led the combined “Washoe Regiment”
to a bivouac on the Big Bend of the Truckee.
On June 2, near the spot of Ormsby’s death,
Colonel Hays’ forces fought a sharp, three-hour
battle with a large force of Indian warriors covering
the evacuation of their villages near Pyramid Lake. As
evening fell, the Indian force withdrew to slopes overlooking
the battlefield, daring the whites to pursue them into a moonless
evening. But Hays held his force in check. The Indians on the
slopes above rained defiant yells and “the most insulting gestures
and abusive language, in both good and bad English” on the
heads of the astonished soldiers.
Both sides withdrew. The Washoe Regiment had suffered three
killed and five wounded, and the whites claimed a great victory.
An initial newspaper dispatch claimed they’d killed 160 Indians.
More sober subsequent reportage detailed 20 to 25 Indians killed
and another 20 to 30 wounded out of a force of about 300. Later
estimates placed Paiute losses at a more comparable four killed
and seven wounded.
Two days later Colonel Hays advanced his force to Pyramid
Lake, finding “plenty of sign, but no Injun.” A Paiute rear-
guard killed a careless white scout as the tribe vanished into
the mountainous deserts to the north, ending the Second Battle
of Pyramid Lake.

The most succinct summary ap-
peared in the Marysville Daily Appeal
two weeks after the second battle.
“The proportions of the whole thing
have been immensely exaggerated,
a single act of merited Indian vengeance having been con-
strued into a declaration of general hostilities.” Hays’ reluctance
to push for a decisive engagement might well have reflected
his concurrence with such sentiments.
In the aftermath of the fighting the Army began con-
struction on Fort Churchill, along the Carson River
between Williams Station and Virginia City, to
keep the Indians at bay. Sporadic raids by the
Paiutes disrupted Pony Express traffic through
August. By then much of the tribe, cut off
from their food sources at Pyramid Lake,
was starving, and Numaga negotiated an
informal cease-fire with a band of survey-
ors. In 1864 the fighting again flared into
what became known as the Snake War, in-
volving Northern Paiutes, Western Shosho-
nes and Bannocks, which persisted until 1868
with vicious guerrilla fighting in California, Ore-
gon, Idaho Territory and the new state of Nevada. It
represented perhaps the bloodiest of the Indian wars fought
by the United States, leading to more than 1,700 causalities.
Although white pressure and constant fighting disrupted the
Paiutes’ ability to hunt, fish and forage and ultimately broke
their power, the tribe never suffered a decisive combat defeat.
Indeed, they are among the few American Indian tribes who
still occupy the core of their ancestral homeland, contained
within present-day Pyramid Lake Indian Reservation.

California-based author Gregory Crouch has written for a wide
range of national publications. This article was adapted from
his most recent book, The Bonanza King: John Mackay and
the Battle Over the Greatest Riches in the American West
(2018), which was reviewed in the February 2019 Wild West.
Also suggested for further reading: Sand in a Whirlwind: The
Paiute Indian War of 1860, by Ferol Egan; The Pyramid
Lake Indian War, by John M. Townley; and Devils Will Reign:
How Nevada Began, by Sally Zanjani.

John Coffee Hays

Second Pyramid
On June 2, 1860, Regular
soldiers and militia units
again battled the Indians.
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