Canyon Station – Part Two – July 6th, 1863
Go to Sleep – Peaceful Sleep
May the Soldier – or Sailor – God Keep
On the land – or the Deep………..Safe in Sleep (TAPS)
One of the biggest mysteries to me concerning the history associated with Pony Express and Overland Stage sites, Canyon Station in particular, is simply Why? On June 23rd, 1863, the men of Company E, Third California Infantry Volunteers, got their butt kicked by the Goshute Indians aided by other regional tribes. 3 out of 4 of the Soldiers stationed there were killed.
Major Patrick A. Gallagher in his report to the adjutant general stated “I feel perfectly satisfied that if Burgher and Elliott had not dis-obeyed orders and left the station, they would not have been killed, but on the contrary, would have had an opportunity of rendering a good account of some of the Indians, as they were within range of their pieces and there were 17 counted.” As was stated in the last chapter, Elliott’s body was found 100 yards east of the station, horribly mutilated, with 35 rifle balls in it. Burgher was found nearby on a hillside in the same condition but he was only shot 4 times in comparison. Corporal Hervey was killed instantly when he was shot by a sniper in the forehead. The heroics of the only survivors – Private Abbott and William Riley were told in the last chapter. I have given this redundant information in order to set the stage for this chapter.
You would think that after these events, the Army would have stationed more than four soldiers at Canyon Station. General Patrick E. Connor wanted to do just that but he explained to his superiors that he had men strung out all along the Overland Stage line and that the tribes were organizing for an offensive. If that was not enough, the overtaxed command out of Fort Douglas was constantly threatened with complete annihilation at the hands of Brigham Young and his Nauvoo Legion. Connor went on to state that he had only 60 men fit for duty at Fort Douglas. 60 men would be nothing more than a speed bump for Brigham Young and his militia had he chosen this instant to strike, so Connor, being in a severe bind, could afford to send no more troops.
If I was assigned to Canyon Station in the summer of 1863 to replace 3 dead soldiers who were slaughtered by Indians only days prior to my arrival, I would have been as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, with my weapons at the ready and my powder dry. I find it incredulous that on the morning of July 6th, 1863, the soldiers at Canyon Station, who were sitting down to breakfast in their dugout, were not.
It must have been a beautiful morning at Canyon Station, one that betrayed any evidence that this mid summer morning would be shattered by violence and death. If you have ever camped out in the mountains in the sagebrush and been up before the sun, you will understand what I mean. The still, calm, silence broken only by an occasional bird song, the smell of the grass, and sage. The cool freshness of the mountain air, and the differing hues of Dark Blue, Light Blue and orange of the sunrise to the east and the few remaining stars in the western sky.
William “Deaf Bill” Riley must have been admiring just such a scene as he curried his horse that morning near the barn at Canyon Station. There are differing reports as to the demise of Riley. One account states that he was shot dead where he stood in front of the barn as the attack began. Another states that Riley fought very bravely, killing several Indians before they subdued him. One fact is beyond debate and that is that poor Riley, after so fighting so bravely and surviving the attack on June 23rd, he was killed July 6th by Indians at Canyon Station.
Upon hearing the shot that took Riley, his assistant rushed out of the barn and was immediately cut down. One of the soldiers rushed out of the dugout where the four soldiers were having breakfast and he too was shot and killed instantly. Why after the attack on the 23rd of June, these soldiers were all in the dugout for breakfast with no sentry posted is truly a mystery. It could be simply that you had four privates together on duty without a Non-commissioned officer present. It might not have mattered though because the Indians were determined to finish the job this time.
The three soldiers pinned down in the dugout decided that they should make a rush for the barn and their horses which they did. As they did so, one of their number was cut down and killed. The two men who reached the barn were Privates Anthony Meyers and Louis B. Pratt. These two men decided that it would not be wise to try to run for it just yet, built breastworks of grain sacks and other materials in the barn and fought off the Indians for more than an hour. The Indians, tiring of this game, set fire to a haystack that was up against the barn and the building quickly began to burn. Meyers and Pratt realized that they would have to mount their horses and make a run for it or they would be burned alive. According to Pratt, they flew out of the barn as if they had been scotched by a branding iron. Pratt went on to state that from every sagebrush leaden missiles seemed to fly.
Just as it seemed as though Meyers and Pratt had made good their escape, Meyers suddenly threw up his arms and rolled from the saddle, fatally wounded. Pratt continued on as bullets flew all around him, spurring his horse ever faster down Deep Creek Canyon toward Willow Springs. Later that day an Emigrant Train was leaving Willow Springs when they found Pratt and his dead horse lying in the middle of the road about a mile west of Willow Springs Station. Pratt himself was shot full of holes and mortally wounded. Members of the emigrant train carried Pratt back to Willow Springs Station where he lived just long enough to tell the epic saga of the battle, and then he died.
George Boyd, along with some others, then went to Canyon Station and retrieved the remains of those who had perished. There have been some fantastic accounts of how Riley met his maker which contradict the one told here. It could be that the Indians passed along the following account, portions of which are found in the book “Deep Creek Reflections” by Ronald R. Bateman, which is a pretty good book on the history of the region. Supposedly, Riley was only injured by the first shot and he continued to fight vigorously until the Indians overpowered him, bound him, and burned him alive. It is also said that as with the case of Elliott, the Indians cut out his heart, and one of the braves ate it, believing that by doing so, he would take on Riley’s bravery, thus making himself more powerful.
There certainly are some disturbing stories that you can dig up out along the Old Pony Express Route. The following individuals lost their lives at Canyon Station on July 6th, 1863.
Private Thomas Grimshaw – Company E, Third California Infantry Volunteers
Private Michael McNamara – Company E, Third California Volunteers
Private Anthony Meyers – Company E, Third California Volunteers
Private Louis B. Pratt – Company E, Third California Volunteers
William “Deaf Bill” Riley – Overland Stage Employee
Riley’s Assistant (name unknown) – Overland Stage Employee
After this horrible massacre, Canyon Station was moved to the eastern rim of Deep Creek Canyon and there was a round, rock fortification built – complete with rifle ports. This round structure still remains at the new station site and is sometimes referred to as “Round Station”. The old station site “Canyon Station” where the massacres took place was re-named “Burnt Station” and was thereafter abandoned. If you visit the site of Canyon or “Burnt” station, think back to all these events and realize that you are standing on significant ground. Ground that should undoubtedly be memorialized better than it is today. In all, 10 whites and probably as many Indians died out here in the summer of 1863. One of the many forgotten tales over the hill and far away, along the Pony Express Trail, out in the west Desert of Tooele County.
