Heart of Glass: Part 1

As I have spoken of in other posts, sometimes humans survive horrible situations against amazing odds.  Most recently I detailed the Canadian Mounties’ pursuit of Albert Johnson, “The Mad Trapper,” and told my readers of Johnson’s survival, living outdoors in deep snow and temperatures often reaching 40° below zero or lower, covering hundreds of miles over several weeks, until he was brought to justice, questionable as it was.

My son, J.B. commented that Johnson’s exploits reminded him of the story of Hugh Glass and I agreed.

But I doubt if J.B. knows the extent of adventure Glass experienced in his life.  Let me tell you what I’m talking about.

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Mr. Glass made the acquaintance of, and became friends with, George C. Yount  in the late 1820s or ‘30s and told Mr. Yount how he started out as a sailor between 1817 and 1820.  He was aboard an American ship that was seized by Jean Lafitte, famed French pirate in the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico at that time.

Glass was probably in his 30s when Lafitte’s pirates boarded the ship and, as was common, the captain gave some of the sailors the option to join his crew…or die.  According to reports, Glass was a God-fearing man but understandably chose piracy over death. 

The gang lived in the small pirate colony of Campeachy on Galveston Island, off the coast of present-day Texas.  The murky waters around the island were populated by alligators and poisonous snakes and the mainland was inhabited by Karankawa Indians, who hated Europeans and were reported to be cannibals, so it is no wonder Glass and a friend didn’t rush to escape Lafitte’s clutches.  They stayed with the pirate’s band for two years.

At some point Lafitte’s crew decided that Glass and his companion were unsuited for the pirates’ life, and the two realized that their lives were in danger from the cruel gang.  At that time the ship was anchored in a secluded cove on the mainland and the pair found out they would have a hearing before Lafitte when they got back to Campeachy.  That could mean a sentence of death…or worse.

Due to the lax discipline one would expect of such a band of cutthroats, the two found themselves alone and unguarded.  Thinking alive in the ocean was better than dead in it, they gathered a few supplies and dove off the ship.  The pair swam the two miles to shore and disappeared into the forest.

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The escapees made their way many miles northward, careful to avoid meeting any of the Comanche, Osage, and Kiowa Indians that inhabited the country.  After traveling 1000 miles through Indian Territory, Glass and his companion ran out of luck, when they were captured by a band of Skiri, or Wolf Pawnee, somewhere in the central plains of North America.

Well, Hugh didn’t run completely out of luck, but his friend certainly did.  In the belief that human sacrifice would ensure them of a plentiful harvest, the captors hung the companion, pierced his skin and inserted burning pieces of pine, then burned him alive.

Glass had to watch his friend die screaming, and wracked his brain for a means of escape.

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The sacrifice was ritualistic so the tribe kept Glass for another ceremony and, because of their beliefs, treated him kindly and respectfully during that time, to honor the spirit he would soon be sacrificed to.

When the time came for the ceremony the tribe’s chief stood by as others prepared Glass for his sacrifice.  Hugh reached inside his shirt and found a packet of vermillion, a pigment Native American’s valued for their artwork.  He pulled the packet out and presented it as a gift to the chief, who then returned the kindness by sparing Glass’s life.

The Native Americans kept Hugh with them and he was eventually accepted into the tribe.  He stayed with them for several years, adopting their lifestyle, learning how they hunted, fished, and trapped, and may have even taken a Native American wife.

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Exactly what happened to Hugh’s wife and how he left the Pawnees is not clear, but in 1822 he responded to word of a fur-trading venture.  General William Henry Ashley wanted 100 men to “ascend the river Missouri,” to trade for furs with the natives living there.

Glass joined “Ashley’s Hundred” the following year.  They were attacked by a band of Arikara (also called “Ree”) warriors and several men were killed or wounded.  Hugh was shot in the leg.

The group retreated downstream and sent for help.

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While he was recovering, Glass took on the odious duty of writing a letter to the parents of young John S. Gardner, who was killed in the battle.  That correspondence still exists and reads as follows:

Dr Sir:

My painfull duty it is to tell you of the deth of yr son wh befell at the hands of the indians 2d June in the early morning. He lived little while after he was shot and asked me to inform you of his  sad fate. We brought him to the ship when he soon died. Mr. Smith young man of our company made powerful prayr wh moved us all greatly and am persuaded John died in peace. His body we buried with others near this camp and marked the grave with log. His things we will send to you. The savages are greatly treacherous. We traded with them as friends but after great storm of rain and thunder they came at us before light and many were hurt. I myself was shot in the leg. Master Ashley is bound to stay in these parts till the traitors are rightly punished.

Yr Obt Svt
Hugh Glass

Once help arrived, the group laid siege to the Arikara village that had attacked them.  The results were not good, serving mainly to antagonize the natives and causing them to harass and kill trappers in the future.

Concerned for the safety of the people back at the new fort at the mouth of the Yellowstone River, Major Andrew Henry took a group of men, including Hugh Glass, toward the fort.  The rest of their party would be led westward by Jedediah Smith, toward the Rocky Mountains, in search of good trapping.

In his role as hunter for Henry’s group, Glass would travel ahead of them, finding fresh fruit and taking game as it became available.  Being a lone man, traveling quietly so as to sneak up on unsuspecting game, Hugh walked into a situation that outdoorsmen everywhere know is a recipe for disaster.  He found himself much too close to a mother grizzly bear and her two yearling cubs.

That’s when the momma grizzly went into…uh, momma grizzly mode.

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No exact description of the event exists but, from my own experience and first-hand accounts of friends, I can picture what might have taken place in that horrible incident.

The sow griz and her cubs would have been peacefully feeding on the sweet plums that were ripe at that time of year.  Hugh would have known that bears are attracted to the same sweet fruit that he was after, and he would have been alert to the danger.  Perhaps there would have been a breeze stirring the brush to obscure the bears’ and man’s hearing.  The man wouldn’t have to be very close to be too close… close enough for the momma bear to be concerned for the safety of her cubs.  When she first sensed his presence she would have stood on her back legs and scanned the area with eyes and nose.  Once she located Hugh she would have dropped to all fours and charged.

Glass may have seen her and raised his rifle, or he may have not heard or seen anything before the charge.  The crashing of her body through the brush as she closed the last few feet wouldn’t have given him enough warning to get his rifle up before his world was transformed into a twisting, tearing, biting blur of flashing teeth and claws…and pain.

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Grizzly bears may range from 300-800 pounds or more, with claws four inches long and strong enough to be used to flip rocks weighing hundreds of pounds, or to disembowel an elk.  Grizzlies have been known to crush a buffalo bull’s dense skull with one smash of a powerful paw, or carry a full grown horse in their teeth.

Not only are they powerful, but they are fast too.  A griz can run 35 miles per hour.  That’s eight mph faster than world record sprinter Usain Bolt.  In fact, even with a head start, Bolt would be caught before he could finish his world record 100 yard run.

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The sow was on Glass before he could even start to set up a defense, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to fight for his life.  When others from Major Henry’s party reached the sound of the battle, they found that Hugh’s gun had been fired and his knife was out of its scabbard.  The bear had been shot, stabbed, and slashed, but had a lot of fight left in her.  It took several more shots from Henry’s men to finish her off.

Hugh Glass was torn, literally, to pieces.  His back was ripped open, as were his arms and legs.  One leg was broken and his face and neck had been slashed by the powerful claws.  Tatters of muscle protruded from the flesh and blood bubbled from his torn open neck.  His scalp hung loose where the bear had ripped it almost off the skull and a flap of skin hung off his midsection, revealing his ribs.  Shallow, pained breathing and a barely discernable heartbeat were the only evidence that Glass was still alive, and they were fading fast.

The men bound what they could back together then wrapped the dying man.  Major Henry had men build a litter and the brigade members took turns carrying Hugh over the rough ground.  For two days they carried him until Henry was forced to weigh the fact that, burdened with the dying man, not only were they at greater risk of Indian attack, but they stood a very real chance of not catching up with the rest of their party.

Major Henry picked two men, reportedly John Fitzgerald and nineteen-year-old Jim Bridger, to stay with Glass until he breathed his last, then gather up his belongings, bury the corpse, and rejoin the party.  He figured it couldn’t take more than a couple days.

The major had the men in his party lay Hugh’s body on a pallet, gave Fitzgerald  and Bridger some supplies and left.

As the brigade moved away, the two men sat with Glass’s body, waiting for him to die.

But the tough, bull-headed mountain man didn’t cooperate.

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I will finish telling of the adventures of Hugh Glass in my next post but, let me warn you, you’d better get a grip on your disbelief.  It will be sorely tested by the story you are about to hear…next week.

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