A Ramble Through the Tintic War

By Clementine “Clemmie” Wrenfield Unofficial Historian, Front Porch Philosopher & Occasional Pie Judge

Pull up a chair, kick off those dusty boots, and settle in for a story or two from the pages of our past. Now, this particular tale, known locally as the “Tintic War,” didn’t involve armies marching across continents, but it stirred up plenty of dust and trouble right here in the north end of Utah County. It all kicked off in the chill of February back in 1856, more precisely on the twenty-second day of that month.

The spark, as these things often are, was something seemingly simple but vital: the stealing of an ox. This fine piece of horn stock was part of a herd belonging to Abraham Hunsaker, a gentleman from either Goshen or maybe Lehi way. The cattle were enjoying the graze along the west side of Utah Lake, from the Jordan River stretching down toward Pelican Point. The finger pointed at a renegade Indian leader by the name of Tintic, said to be the chief of a rather hostile band.

Well, you can imagine that news of stolen cattle didn’t sit well. Sheriff Wall of Provo wasn’t one to dither; he quickly put together a posse of ten men with the aim of arresting the Indian thief. Their initial hunt led them into Cedar Valley, where the tribesmen were camped. Meanwhile, Deputy Marshal Tom S. Johnson, also from Provo, wasn’t far behind, organizing a larger posse of twenty-five men specifically to go after Chief Tintic and his band accused of stealing stock. This bigger group chased the Indians clear into Rush Valley.

That chase led to a showdown near a place folks later called the south fort, right around where Camp Floyd ended up being. The Indians had found themselves a defensible spot, dug in behind rocks and nestled amongst the cedars on the mountain side. When they were told to give up, Chief Tintic, they say, refused outright, declaring he was “hungry for a fight”. True to his word, he then opened fire on the posse. A fight broke out, and while Tintic was wounded, he managed to slip away. The exchange was deadly; reports said one squaw and three or four other Indians were killed. Sadly, one of the posse members was also mortally wounded. Now, part of this chase involved Mr. Patten, who was with Thomas Johnson’s posse. They crossed Utah Lake right over the ice – imagine that!. They followed the Indians southwest, near where the town of Deseret is now, and while the Indians gave them the slip, this posse did manage to recover about one hundred head of cattle. Another fellow, Mr. Robertson, was among some eighty horsemen who also crossed the south end of Utah Lake on the ice in pursuit. His company rode for ten days and returned with sixty-eight head of horn stock and around thirty horses.

But back in Lehi, the situation felt serious enough that Sheriff Wall called for reinforcements. The local militia answered the call. A company of fifteen men was quickly assembled, commanded by Captain Willes and John S. Lott. Good, strong men like William Clark, James Lamb, John Glynes, John Karren, John Catlin, George Winn, William Skeens (folks called him “Bill” and he was known for a good story), Joseph Cousins, Sylvanus Collett (known as “Syl”, a fearless and athletic man who was always one of the first to respond to trouble with Indians, and could even speak the native language some), and Alonzo D. Rhodes were among them.

This Lehi company set out on the morning of February 26, 1856, brave souls crossing Utah Lake on the ice just like the others. Their first goal was to get to the Lone Tree Ranch and guard the cattle that were supposed to be there. But when they arrived, they found a terrible sight: the two herders, Henry Moran and Washington Carson, had already been killed by the Indians.

Their mission changed in an instant. With guarding the cattle now impossible, they started driving the remaining stock north, heading toward Chimney Rock Pass to make camp for the night. They sent James Lamb and John Glynes to Cedar Fort to spread the word about the herders’ grim fate.

While they were camped there at Chimney Rock Pass, Joseph Cousins and Sylvanus Collett went out to gather some wood, a simple task in the gathering dusk. But Collett caught sight of an Indian peering out from behind a tree. He quickly alerted Cousins and scrambled back towards the camp. Tragically, Joseph Cousins seemed to freeze in place. He was mercilessly shot down and scalped by the savages. That horrific act was the signal for a general attack on their small camp.

The men fought back, hunkering down behind their wagons and whatever little cover they could find. But they were a small party, described as nearly helpless against the larger number of Indians who had ambushed them. In that desperate fight, John Catlin was killed, and poor George Winn was mortally wounded.

Nightfall brought a brief, tense quiet. Fearing the attack would start up again, the battered company retreated about four miles toward the lake shore, carrying the badly wounded Winn with them. Come morning, Alonzo D. Rhodes showed incredible bravery, venturing back across the ice of the lake to Lehi to get help. A relief company was quickly put together and returned with him, accompanying the heartbroken survivors back home. The company returned having suffered terribly, with two men dead and one wounded beyond hope. A funeral was held for these three brave souls on February 28, 1856.

Now, those bodies from the initial confrontation near the south fort? They were reportedly found at the Hot Springs, a place many know today as Saratoga Springs. Chief Tintic himself, wounded as he was, had his camp near that south fort. But the fight wasn’t over yet. The Utah County Militia, under the command of Colonel Pete Conover, was also called out, sending some eighty men across the frozen lake in pursuit, following the Indians’ trail over the mountains. Three days later, they recovered the stolen cattle in the south end of Cedar Valley. This larger force, stepping in effectively, brought what folks call the “Tintic War” to a close just a few days after the Lehi militia’s tragic encounter.

After the whole ordeal, some reports say the savages showed regret, even sending runners out to bring back the stolen cattle. If they couldn’t find all of them, they’d make up the difference with Indian ponies! They also traded buffalo robes. There was even talk that hostile mountaineers had been stirring things up, poisoning the minds of the Indians and pushing them toward lawlessness. In one final sad note connected to these troubles, a posse sent to carry news of a treaty back to President Young was attacked, and a man named Bailey Lake was killed.

And that, my friends, is a glimpse into the raw, often tragic, stories held within the pages of our valley’s past. Tales of courage, loss, and the rocky road of settling this frontier.

Sources:

• Utah Historical Quarterly. Salt Lake City: Utah State Historical Society, 1928–present.
• Gardner, Hamilton. History of Lehi Including A Biographical Section. Salt Lake City, Utah: Lehi Pioneer Committee / The Deseret News, 1913
• Whitney, Orson F. History of Utah. 4 vols. Salt Lake City: George Q. Cannon & Sons Co., 1892–1904.