Hiram Scott and the Tragedy at Scotts Bluff, Nebraska
The vast American West, a landscape of towering mountains, sprawling plains, and winding rivers, holds countless stories of exploration, survival, and tragedy. Among these tales, the story of Hiram Scott stands out, inextricably linked to the imposing geological formation in western Nebraska that now bears his name: Scotts Bluff. This is the story of a mountain man, a fur trapper, and the enduring mystery surrounding his untimely demise, a mystery that continues to fuel speculation and intrigue nearly two centuries later.
Hiram Scott, born around 1805 in St. Charles County, Missouri, was a figure emblematic of the era. He was drawn to the allure of the fur trade, a lucrative but perilous enterprise that fueled westward expansion and shaped the early interactions between European Americans and Native American tribes. Described as a man of imposing stature, unusually tall and muscular with a dark complexion, Scott’s life was one of adventure, hardship, and ultimately, a tragic end.
His journey into the world of fur trapping began with his enlistment in William Henry Ashley’s Rocky Mountain Fur Company. Ashley, a prominent figure in the burgeoning fur trade, organized expeditions into the uncharted territories of the West, seeking valuable beaver pelts and establishing trading relationships with various Native American nations. Scott’s initial foray into this rugged lifestyle was as a member of Ashley’s expedition up the Missouri River in 1822-23. This venture proved to be fraught with danger, as evidenced by Scott’s involvement in the Arikara War on June 1, 1823. This conflict, a brutal clash between Ashley’s men and the Arikara tribe, resulted in the deaths of approximately a dozen traders, underscoring the risks inherent in the fur trade.
Scott’s career progressed steadily within the Rocky Mountain Fur Company. He is believed to have attended the first fur trader rendezvous near the Great Salt Lake in Utah in 1826, and likely participated in subsequent gatherings in 1827 and 1828. These rendezvous were vital events for the fur trade, serving as marketplaces where trappers and traders could exchange their furs for supplies, socialize, and conduct business. By 1827, Scott had ascended to the position of clerk, a role that demanded meticulous record-keeping of transactions with Native Americans, as well as managing inventory and payroll. This position suggests that Scott possessed not only physical prowess but also a degree of literacy and business acumen, qualities that were highly valued in the fur trade.
The year 1828 marked a turning point in Scott’s life, leading to the events that would forever cement his name in the annals of Western lore. As he journeyed back to St. Louis, Missouri, from the 1828 rendezvous, Hiram Scott met his fate near the towering bluffs that would later be named in his honor. The precise circumstances surrounding his death remain shrouded in mystery, with multiple versions of the story circulating over the years. What is generally agreed upon is that Scott fell ill, becoming too weak to continue traveling. Abandoned by his companions, he was left to face the harsh realities of the wilderness alone. The following spring, his remains were discovered many miles from where he had been left, adding another layer of intrigue to the already tragic tale.
The first documented account of Hiram Scott’s death comes from Warren A. Ferris, an employee of the American Fur Company who traversed the area in 1830. Ferris’s version recounts that Scott, afflicted by a severe illness, was placed in a boat by two comrades who attempted to transport him down the Platte River. However, for reasons unknown, these men abandoned Scott on the north bank of the river. The following spring, Scott’s skeletal remains were found on the opposite side of the river, suggesting a desperate attempt to cross the waterway before succumbing to his illness.
A slightly altered version of the story emerged two years later, penned by the celebrated author Washington Irving. In Irving’s account, Scott was abandoned not by two men, but by a larger party fearing starvation. They purportedly left the ailing Scott behind at the Laramie Fork. The following summer, his bones were discovered near the bluffs, approximately 60 miles from where he had been left to die.
In 1834, missionary Jason Lee added his voice to the growing narrative, relaying a story similar to the earlier versions, but with a significant detail: the unfortunate Scott had managed to traverse an astonishing 100 miles before finally succumbing to his fate near the bluffs on the North Platte River.
Over time, the story of Hiram Scott became embellished with various details, some more plausible than others. Some versions included dramatic encounters with hostile Native American warriors, while others hinted at foul play and even murder. Certain narratives emphasized the noble sacrifice of Scott, who supposedly insisted that his comrades leave him behind so that they might survive.
One popular theory suggests that Scott sustained an injury during an encounter with Blackfeet Indians at the 1828 rendezvous at Bear Lake, Utah. This alleged injury could explain his incapacitation during the journey eastward. However, as with much of the information surrounding Hiram Scott, definitive proof remains elusive.
Despite the conflicting accounts and the blurring of historical fact with folklore, certain aspects of Scott’s life and death are well-established. Records confirm that a man named Hiram Scott was indeed a prominent figure in the Rocky Mountain fur trade from 1823 to 1827. He disappeared in 1828 and was never seen or heard from again. The identities of his companions remain unknown, but research strongly suggests that William Sublette, a prominent fur trader, led the 1828 caravan and likely instructed the men to remain with Scott. Sublette also led the springtime caravan of 1829 that discovered Scott’s skeleton, miles away from the reported site of his abandonment.
Almost immediately after his death, the bluffs along the North Platte River in Nebraska became known as Scotts Bluff, a lasting testament to the enduring impact of his story. In 1830, the first wagons made the overland trip along the same route used by fur traders like Scott, and Scotts Bluff served as a vital landmark for pioneers venturing west.
The fur trade continued for another decade after Scott’s death, but by 1840, the beaver population had been decimated by over-trapping, and fashion trends had shifted away from beaver fur hats. The value of furs plummeted, marking the decline of the era that Scott had been a part of.
The final resting place of Hiram Scott remains unknown. While his remains were undoubtedly found near the North Platte River, the precise location has never been determined. Today, a plaque dedicated to his memory stands along the North Overlook Trail on the summit of the bluff that bears his name, offering a poignant reminder of the man whose life and death have become intertwined with the landscape itself.
The poem by Rufus B. Sage, a pioneer who passed the bluff in 1841, captures the sense of loss and isolation associated with Scott’s death:
"No willing grave received the corpse
of this poor lonely one;—
His bones, alas, were left to bleach
and moulder ‘neath the sun!
The night-wolf howl’d his requiem,—
the rude winds danced his dirge;
And e’er anon, in mournful chime
sigh’s forth the mellow surge!
The spring shall teach the rising grass
to twine for him a tomb;
And, o’er the spot where he doth lie,
shall bid the wild flowers bloom.
But, far from friends, and far from home,
ah, dismal thought, to die!
Ah, let me ‘mid my friends expire,
and with my fathers lie."
The story of Hiram Scott serves as a powerful reminder of the challenges and hardships faced by those who ventured into the American West. While the details of his death may forever remain a mystery, his name lives on, etched into the landscape and woven into the fabric of Western legend.