Josiah Osborn married Margaret Findley June 5, 1834 in Warren Co. Illinois. He was an Oregon Trail pioneer of 1845, traveling with his wife and children Nancy, Sylvia, and John L, in Abner Hackleman's train. Son Alexander Rogers Osborn was born near the summit of South Pass, Wyoming, August 5, 1845. He was a wagon maker and a builder of mills, and took DLC 758 in Linn County.
The family survived the Whitman massacre, famously hiding under the floorboards of the house, and escaping during the night. although their daughter Sylvia died of measles a week before the Cayuse attack. In 1848, Josiah wrote his brother and sister "In the spring of 1847 we went to our claim on the Califosea, and thought we were done moving. Dr. Whitman came down and wanted me to undertake to build two mills for the Mission; and, not being satisfied with doing well, I consented to go and spend two years in working for the Mission."
He said of the experience "I and my whole family were sick in bed with measles. When I heard the firing of the guns and the yells of the Indians, I leaned my head upon the bed and committed myself and family to my maker. My wife removed some loose board from the floor. Then we all dropped under the floor in our night clothes, taking only two woolen sheets, a piece of bread, and some cold mush. Then pulled the loose floor over us. In five minutes, the room was full of Indians, but they did not discover us. The firing of guns and yells of the savages and the crash of clubs and knives and the groans of the dying continued until dark. Soon after this we removed the floor boards and went out, I carried my two youngest children and my wife held onto my clothes in her great weakness. We had all been sick with measles. The naked painted Indians were dancing the scalp dance around a large fire at a little distance. A dense cold fog shut out every star, and it was so dark we could not see our hand before our face. We had to feel out the trail with our feet. We bent our steps toward Fort Walla Walla. We had to wade Mill Creek which was high and came up to the waist. My wife was almost washed away. I had to cross the stream five times for the children. The water was ice cold. We had gone about two miles when Mrs. Osborn fainted and could go no further. We crowded into the wet brush of the Walla Walla River. We could see nothing. I spread one wet sheet on the frozen ground; wife and children crouched upon it. I covered the other over them. I kneeled down and commended us to our Maker. When the day finally dawned we could see the Indians riding furiously up and down the trail. The day seemed a week. Expected every moment my wife would breathe her last.
Tuesday night felt our way to the trail and staggered along to Dog Creek (Sutucksinna), which we waded as we did Mill Creek. We had gone about two miles when my wife fainted and could go no further. Again we crawled into the brush to shake and suffer on from hunger and cold and without sleep, The children, wet and cold, called incessantly for food. But what they had heard and seen frightened them so that they did not speak loud.
Wednesday night my wife was too weak to stand. I took my second child and started for Walla Walla. Had to wade the Touched. Had to stop and rest quite frequently from weakness. I reached Fort Walla Walla after daylight. I begged Mr. McBean for horses and dry clothing so I could bring my family into the fort. He refused and said I could not bring my family into his fort. I next begged the priests to show pity, as undoubtedly I and my family would parish, but they refused to aid me in any way."
In an interview 21 Oct 1937, Mrs. Iva Templeton Galbraith, of Albany, Oregon stated, "Josiah Osborn and his wife, Margaret, and son Wilson are all sleeping in the old McHargue cemetery, south of father's old claim, on the Courtney creek. Their graves are quite unmarked, but I know just where they are for they have often been pointed out to me."
The family survived the Whitman massacre, famously hiding under the floorboards of the house, and escaping during the night. although their daughter Sylvia died of measles a week before the Cayuse attack. In 1848, Josiah wrote his brother and sister "In the spring of 1847 we went to our claim on the Califosea, and thought we were done moving. Dr. Whitman came down and wanted me to undertake to build two mills for the Mission; and, not being satisfied with doing well, I consented to go and spend two years in working for the Mission."
He said of the experience "I and my whole family were sick in bed with measles. When I heard the firing of the guns and the yells of the Indians, I leaned my head upon the bed and committed myself and family to my maker. My wife removed some loose board from the floor. Then we all dropped under the floor in our night clothes, taking only two woolen sheets, a piece of bread, and some cold mush. Then pulled the loose floor over us. In five minutes, the room was full of Indians, but they did not discover us. The firing of guns and yells of the savages and the crash of clubs and knives and the groans of the dying continued until dark. Soon after this we removed the floor boards and went out, I carried my two youngest children and my wife held onto my clothes in her great weakness. We had all been sick with measles. The naked painted Indians were dancing the scalp dance around a large fire at a little distance. A dense cold fog shut out every star, and it was so dark we could not see our hand before our face. We had to feel out the trail with our feet. We bent our steps toward Fort Walla Walla. We had to wade Mill Creek which was high and came up to the waist. My wife was almost washed away. I had to cross the stream five times for the children. The water was ice cold. We had gone about two miles when Mrs. Osborn fainted and could go no further. We crowded into the wet brush of the Walla Walla River. We could see nothing. I spread one wet sheet on the frozen ground; wife and children crouched upon it. I covered the other over them. I kneeled down and commended us to our Maker. When the day finally dawned we could see the Indians riding furiously up and down the trail. The day seemed a week. Expected every moment my wife would breathe her last.
Tuesday night felt our way to the trail and staggered along to Dog Creek (Sutucksinna), which we waded as we did Mill Creek. We had gone about two miles when my wife fainted and could go no further. Again we crawled into the brush to shake and suffer on from hunger and cold and without sleep, The children, wet and cold, called incessantly for food. But what they had heard and seen frightened them so that they did not speak loud.
Wednesday night my wife was too weak to stand. I took my second child and started for Walla Walla. Had to wade the Touched. Had to stop and rest quite frequently from weakness. I reached Fort Walla Walla after daylight. I begged Mr. McBean for horses and dry clothing so I could bring my family into the fort. He refused and said I could not bring my family into his fort. I next begged the priests to show pity, as undoubtedly I and my family would parish, but they refused to aid me in any way."
In an interview 21 Oct 1937, Mrs. Iva Templeton Galbraith, of Albany, Oregon stated, "Josiah Osborn and his wife, Margaret, and son Wilson are all sleeping in the old McHargue cemetery, south of father's old claim, on the Courtney creek. Their graves are quite unmarked, but I know just where they are for they have often been pointed out to me."
Josiah Osborn married Margaret Findley June 5, 1834 in Warren Co. Illinois. He was an Oregon Trail pioneer of 1845, traveling with his wife and children Nancy, Sylvia, and John L, in Abner Hackleman's train. Son Alexander Rogers Osborn was born near the summit of South Pass, Wyoming, August 5, 1845. He was a wagon maker and a builder of mills, and took DLC 758 in Linn County.
The family survived the Whitman massacre, famously hiding under the floorboards of the house, and escaping during the night. although their daughter Sylvia died of measles a week before the Cayuse attack. In 1848, Josiah wrote his brother and sister "In the spring of 1847 we went to our claim on the Califosea, and thought we were done moving. Dr. Whitman came down and wanted me to undertake to build two mills for the Mission; and, not being satisfied with doing well, I consented to go and spend two years in working for the Mission."
He said of the experience "I and my whole family were sick in bed with measles. When I heard the firing of the guns and the yells of the Indians, I leaned my head upon the bed and committed myself and family to my maker. My wife removed some loose board from the floor. Then we all dropped under the floor in our night clothes, taking only two woolen sheets, a piece of bread, and some cold mush. Then pulled the loose floor over us. In five minutes, the room was full of Indians, but they did not discover us. The firing of guns and yells of the savages and the crash of clubs and knives and the groans of the dying continued until dark. Soon after this we removed the floor boards and went out, I carried my two youngest children and my wife held onto my clothes in her great weakness. We had all been sick with measles. The naked painted Indians were dancing the scalp dance around a large fire at a little distance. A dense cold fog shut out every star, and it was so dark we could not see our hand before our face. We had to feel out the trail with our feet. We bent our steps toward Fort Walla Walla. We had to wade Mill Creek which was high and came up to the waist. My wife was almost washed away. I had to cross the stream five times for the children. The water was ice cold. We had gone about two miles when Mrs. Osborn fainted and could go no further. We crowded into the wet brush of the Walla Walla River. We could see nothing. I spread one wet sheet on the frozen ground; wife and children crouched upon it. I covered the other over them. I kneeled down and commended us to our Maker. When the day finally dawned we could see the Indians riding furiously up and down the trail. The day seemed a week. Expected every moment my wife would breathe her last.
Tuesday night felt our way to the trail and staggered along to Dog Creek (Sutucksinna), which we waded as we did Mill Creek. We had gone about two miles when my wife fainted and could go no further. Again we crawled into the brush to shake and suffer on from hunger and cold and without sleep, The children, wet and cold, called incessantly for food. But what they had heard and seen frightened them so that they did not speak loud.
Wednesday night my wife was too weak to stand. I took my second child and started for Walla Walla. Had to wade the Touched. Had to stop and rest quite frequently from weakness. I reached Fort Walla Walla after daylight. I begged Mr. McBean for horses and dry clothing so I could bring my family into the fort. He refused and said I could not bring my family into his fort. I next begged the priests to show pity, as undoubtedly I and my family would parish, but they refused to aid me in any way."
In an interview 21 Oct 1937, Mrs. Iva Templeton Galbraith, of Albany, Oregon stated, "Josiah Osborn and his wife, Margaret, and son Wilson are all sleeping in the old McHargue cemetery, south of father's old claim, on the Courtney creek. Their graves are quite unmarked, but I know just where they are for they have often been pointed out to me."
The family survived the Whitman massacre, famously hiding under the floorboards of the house, and escaping during the night. although their daughter Sylvia died of measles a week before the Cayuse attack. In 1848, Josiah wrote his brother and sister "In the spring of 1847 we went to our claim on the Califosea, and thought we were done moving. Dr. Whitman came down and wanted me to undertake to build two mills for the Mission; and, not being satisfied with doing well, I consented to go and spend two years in working for the Mission."
He said of the experience "I and my whole family were sick in bed with measles. When I heard the firing of the guns and the yells of the Indians, I leaned my head upon the bed and committed myself and family to my maker. My wife removed some loose board from the floor. Then we all dropped under the floor in our night clothes, taking only two woolen sheets, a piece of bread, and some cold mush. Then pulled the loose floor over us. In five minutes, the room was full of Indians, but they did not discover us. The firing of guns and yells of the savages and the crash of clubs and knives and the groans of the dying continued until dark. Soon after this we removed the floor boards and went out, I carried my two youngest children and my wife held onto my clothes in her great weakness. We had all been sick with measles. The naked painted Indians were dancing the scalp dance around a large fire at a little distance. A dense cold fog shut out every star, and it was so dark we could not see our hand before our face. We had to feel out the trail with our feet. We bent our steps toward Fort Walla Walla. We had to wade Mill Creek which was high and came up to the waist. My wife was almost washed away. I had to cross the stream five times for the children. The water was ice cold. We had gone about two miles when Mrs. Osborn fainted and could go no further. We crowded into the wet brush of the Walla Walla River. We could see nothing. I spread one wet sheet on the frozen ground; wife and children crouched upon it. I covered the other over them. I kneeled down and commended us to our Maker. When the day finally dawned we could see the Indians riding furiously up and down the trail. The day seemed a week. Expected every moment my wife would breathe her last.
Tuesday night felt our way to the trail and staggered along to Dog Creek (Sutucksinna), which we waded as we did Mill Creek. We had gone about two miles when my wife fainted and could go no further. Again we crawled into the brush to shake and suffer on from hunger and cold and without sleep, The children, wet and cold, called incessantly for food. But what they had heard and seen frightened them so that they did not speak loud.
Wednesday night my wife was too weak to stand. I took my second child and started for Walla Walla. Had to wade the Touched. Had to stop and rest quite frequently from weakness. I reached Fort Walla Walla after daylight. I begged Mr. McBean for horses and dry clothing so I could bring my family into the fort. He refused and said I could not bring my family into his fort. I next begged the priests to show pity, as undoubtedly I and my family would parish, but they refused to aid me in any way."
In an interview 21 Oct 1937, Mrs. Iva Templeton Galbraith, of Albany, Oregon stated, "Josiah Osborn and his wife, Margaret, and son Wilson are all sleeping in the old McHargue cemetery, south of father's old claim, on the Courtney creek. Their graves are quite unmarked, but I know just where they are for they have often been pointed out to me."
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