Jerome A. Greene
Page 35
Before starting early next morning, Major Carr decided to burn up a number of wagons, all the forage and camp equipage, in order to lighten the train and increase the number of mules to the teams of the remaining wagons. The pursuit was then taken up and continued from early morning till late at night, the Indians being in plain view on all sides of the command and fighting desperately with the advance guard to retard our progress and give their village [with its] women and children, which was only a few miles ahead and our objective, an opportunity for escape. Dark had overtaken us when we went into camp, the Indians skirmishing with us all the way. That night their small camp fires were discernible a short distance from us, but no attack was made.
Before daybreak next morning, Major Carr started out with the cavalry, directing me to follow with the wagon train, the troops pressing the village so closely that the Indians were forced to throw away all of their belongings, including bundles of buffalo robes, dried meat, tepees and tepee poles, and abandon many of their ponies. The pursuit was kept up by the cavalry for two days and nights, until the Indians scattered in every direction, leaving no trail to follow. On the third day the train rejoined Major Carr, and all marched back to Fort Wallace, Kansas, where the campaign ended. This campaign cleared the country of nearly all hostile Indians between the Platte and Arkansas Rivers, their favorite hunting ground, and practically ended the Indian troubles in that section. William F. Cody was our guide on this campaign, and had his first experience as a government scout, displaying all the well known qualities of bravery and skill which later made him the most famous scout of the United States Army.
A Buffalo Soldier Recalls Beaver Creek (By Reuben Waller, formerly of Troop H, Tenth U. S. Cavalry. From Winners of the West, October, 1924)
While stationed at Fort Wallace, Kansas, in October, 1868, the Indians were bad, and there were only two troops of cavalry at the fort. A scout brought in word that there was a large camp of Indians about one mile northeast of Fort Wallace, on Beaver Creek, at a place called Short Knolls. Troops H and I of the Tenth Cavalry were all that could be had at that time. Major Eugene A. Carr came to Fort Wallace on an inspection tour. The demand was so great for cavalrymen that Major Carr got the two companies of black soldiers together and looked them over and tried them out as to horsemanship and marksmanship. He found us expert horseback riders and dead shots with the Spencer seven-shot carbines…. I at that time was Lieutenant Colonel Henry C. Bankhead’s orderly, and the conversation which ensued between Colonel Bankhead and Major Carr is still very fresh on my mind. I can hear Major Carr as he said: “Why, Bankhead, I can take those two troops of negroes and whip hell out of all the Indians in Colorado.” Colonel Bankhead[, who commanded Fort Wallace, ] replied in words like these: “Very well, General Carr [referring to his brevet rank], they are at your service.”
Major Carr sent for a scout named Grover Sharp [Sharp Grover], who was chief scout and had several scouts under him. Immediately upon being informed that the Indians were thus situated nearby, Major Carr ordered boots and saddles sounded, and further ordered eleven wagons loaded with forage for the horses. Early the next morning we hiked out for Beaver Creek where the Indians were reported to be. It required three days for us to make the trip to Beaver Creek. Here we found about twelve hundred Indian warriors, besides women and children. We struck them about dark on the third day. The Indians gave us quite a round that evening, and we went into camp about three miles distant from them.
Bright and early the next morning, the Indians were upon us and they made things look serious for us. I recall Major Carr having told Captain Carpenter of my Troop H that we had better retreat. Major Carr ordered a retreat and the Indians left us to dispose of their women and children, and let us go until about three o’clock that day. Twelve hundred strong, they overtook us upon the bare plains. We, being well disciplined, corralled eleven wagons, while one troop kept the Indians at bay. We placed the horses and mules inside the corral and took the forage out of the wagons and made breastworks. By the time we had finished this work, the Indians had completely encircled us and it looked bad for Major Carr’s scalp. We fell back behind the sacks of forage, and being dead shots the Indians melted away like snow beneath the burning rays of a summer’s sun. The Indians came up eight-to-ten deep within fifty yards of our breastworks. We slaughtered them unmercifully. Major Carr said to us that he had never seen such superior marksmanship among soldiers in all of his military experience. He said, “Men, you have surely gained the day.” We said among ourselves, “Yes, General Carr, and we have also saved your scalp.” Our soldiers also scalped some of the Indians, but we soon put a stop to that kind of barbarity among the Tenth cavalrymen.
Kansas Troops and the 1868 Campaign (By W. R. Smith, formerly of Company F, Nineteenth Kansas Volunteer Cavalry. From Winners of the West, March 30, 1926)
The western plains sure had no welcome greeting for the Nineteenth Kansas Cavalry in the latter part of November, 1868. Scarcely had we reached this then unknown pathless wilderness before old King Winter sent down his storms upon us. There was a succession of rain, sleet, hailstorms, snows, raging blizzards, and intense freezing cold.
In the blinding storms, all trains and landmarks were lost sight of, and the regiment floundered about in the deep snows for two days before we reached Sand Creek, a tributary of the Cimarron River, where we went into camp. Some weeks later, Harpers Weekly published an illustration of our going into this camp. It was a wild and dreary scene. “Camp Starvation” we called it, and that name gave a most correct idea of its fitness. Those sand hills along the north side of the Cimarron, among which our camp was located, were formed by the action of the wind in past ages by blowing the sand out of the river bed. They were at that time covered by a growth of young timber, their only redeeming feature as they thus supplied us with wood for fires.
Supplies for our regiment had been sent to Camp Beecher, now Wichita, but had been partly consumed by the troops stationed there. As it was urgent for us to reach Major General Philip H. Sheridan at Camp Supply on the Canadian River, we had marched on with what rations and forage were left, scarcely half enough for the trip. There we were, 1, 200 men and twice that many horses and mules, without food, forage, or tents, snowbound by winter storms among the sand dunes of the Cimarron, a bleak, desolate, and forsaken place. The continued storms had driven the buffalo far away, and only an occasional old stray stag could be found in some sheltered cove. They were killed and brought into camp and the meat was ravenously devoured without leaving a scrap. Even the bones were roasted and broken open for the marrow they contained. The boys roamed over the brush-covered hills in search of anything that would sustain life, but game of all kinds was hard to find outside of their burrows under the deep snow. Large quantities of hackberries were gathered and eaten and made into tea by some of the half-starved boys, which afterward caused them much pain and trouble.
We had not received our full supply of clothing to protect us from the terrors of a winter on the plains, and some suffered greatly from lack of it, wrapping their feet in pieces of blankets or buffalo hides. Sheridan said afterward that he greatly feared the whole outfit had perished. Our horses suffered terribly, some of them freezing to death, and in their starved condition acted like wild animals in their frenzy. We cut cottonwood poles and brush and carried it to them to gnaw the bark and twigs from. That was all there was for them to eat. Having gone nearly a week without much food, many died from starvation and cold. In after years, our line of march from this camp to Fort Sill [sic—Camp Supply] could be followed by the bleaching bones of our noble horses. A detail of fifty men with the best horses, under the command of Captain Allison J. Pliley, was sent out in the storm over the snow-covered plains, without rations or forage, to find Sheridan’s camp on the Canadian and send relief back to the regiment, which later we received and then went on to Camp Supply. While at this cold, blizzard-swept, and starving camp, Thanksgiving Day was passed, but I fear few of the boys felt that
they had anything to be thankful for. When we went to the plains we expected to fight Indians and maybe lose our scalps, but we never thought of those other worse enemies—cold and starvation. That ill fate followed us almost from the first to last, without much glory, if any, for services rendered.
Trials of the Southern Plains Campaign, 1868-1869 (By Henry Pearson, formerly of Troop I, Nineteenth Kansas Volunteer Cavalry. From Winners of the West, December 30, 1926)
In the latter part of October, 1868, the governor of Kansas issued a call for one volunteer regiment to fight Indians in Kansas and New Mexico, [and] Indian Territory. The regiment was soon formed and the shipment of supplies to Topeka, Kansas, had arrived. After being mustered into service, the uniforms, ammunition, and equipment were drawn and our horses had begun to arrive. After drawing the horses, bridles, and saddles, we were sent out to drill, and a greener, rawer bunch was never brought together. After drilling for two days, the emergency and haste being so great, we were prepared for the march into the Indian Territory.
On the fifth day of November we marched up Kansas Avenue, four abreast, with bright shining equipment and being well mounted on fine horses. A gayer-hearted bunch of boys certainly never marched up Kansas Avenue. Little did we realize what we were going out into—we supposed to fight Indians, but instead to a great extent we fought starvation and one of the worst blizzards ever known in Kansas. Governor Samuel J. Crawford resigned his office as governor and was appointed colonel. He was loyal to his officers and kind to his men, and if they had hunted the territory of Kansas over a better man for that position could not have been found.
After marching several days we finally struck Fort Beecher, which is now known as Wichita. There we received orders to replenish our supplies enough to carry us on through to Camp Supply. As the wagon train from Fort Hays hadn’t arrived, we decided it best to go on with half rations. After staying in Fort Beecher a day and two nights, we marched out across the Arkansas River and bid good-bye to civilization. We marched on for two days and on the third day a rainstorm set in and we camped on a small stream. Every fourth man was ordered to hold out four horses to graze until nine o’clock at night. Our scouts had been on ahead finding the trail for us to follow the next day. About dark one of them came into camp and, jumping off his horse, hastily pulled off the bridle and saddle and started to head his horse to where the others were feeding. The saddle had not been entirely unfastened and was dragging along the ground. The horse became scared at this and broke away from the scout and ran as fast as he could toward the other horses, who became scared at the noise and they started to run. This caused a stampede among all of them and away they went over the prairie, four fastened together. The bugle sounded to fall in, armed and equipped, and we supposed the Indians were upon us and we would have to fight. But when we marched up the line to the colonel’s tent, we were informed that our horses had stampeded. For two days we searched the prairie for them and succeeded in finding all but one hundred and thirty head. The next morning we marched on, a hundred and thirty of the boys walking, but our provisions were becoming too short to wait longer.
For several days we marched and then it began to snow. All the trails were covered and the scouts had to go by their knowledge of the lay of the land. They disagreed about the direction of Camp Supply from where we were located, but we tramped on while all the time the snow was coming down faster and the thermometer registering lower and lower. We finally came to a small stream and, brushing away the snow, we camped until morning. When morning came it was still snowing and steadily getting colder, so we pushed on, our supplies being nearly exhausted. At noon we were stopped and two hardtacks was issued to each man, and that was all we had all that day. Just as night was coming on we came to a small tributary of the Cimarron River and here we went into camp. The officers and scouts had a meeting as something had to be done soon. They agreed there was no use in going further as we didn’t know where we were, so it was decided we stay here until the scouts could locate Camp Supply and bring back provisions.
One of the scouts believed Camp Supply lay due south of where we were camped and the other one believed it lay southwest. They were told to pick out twenty-five men each and push on to where they believed Camp Supply lay and bring back provisions for man and beast. At nine o’clock that night Pancy Bill took twenty-five men and started south. Johnny Stillwell took two hundred rounds of cartridges, two carbines, and two revolvers, an extra horse and started southwest alone. About noon the next day, Pancy Bill returned to camp with his twenty-five men, but two of his horses died on the trip. He then decided that Camp Supply lay to the southwest. There we were, nothing to cover us but the sky and snow, nothing to eat but hackberries, and wondering how long it would take us to starve or freeze to death. We found a little wood with which we built a fire and we cut down some trees so our horses could gnaw the bark.
The second day, some of the boys began to talk about deserting and taking the back trail. The trail was completely obliterated and was almost impossible to be found, but about midnight about twenty-five of them gathered plenty of ammunition, picked out some of the best mules and horses, and started back. The rest of us decided we might as well stay there and starve or freeze, whichever it was to be, as to get lost and freeze out on the prairie. We were taking chances on Johnny Stillwell finding Camp Supply. We had a lot of confidence in Johnny Stillwell even though he was but a boy of twenty years. The morning of the third day, one of the boys from Company A and myself went out to see if we might find some animal or bird that we could use for food. After wandering around for quite a while we found a sage hen and the boy from Company A shot and killed it. Being reasonably close and with an ounce ball in his gun, and the sage hen being small, it was torn into pieces. But he gathered up all the parts he could find and took it to camp and cooked it and God only knows how many hungry boys feasted on that little sage hen. On my return back to camp, a squirrel was unfortunate enough to let me see him run up a tree and I shot him. When I took him into camp we skinned him and put him in the camp kettle, but about all the boys got from that squirrel was about a pint of soup.
When the fourth day had dawned and we were still held prisoners, the boys began to talk about a suitable name for our camp. One of the boys, sitting with his head bowed ready to meet death, said, “Let’s call it ‘Camp Starvation,’ ” and so it was named; a more suitable name could not have been procured had we had all the names in the book to select from. Four days and nights and we had been wondering if Johnny Stillwell had succeeded in finding Camp Supply, or whether he had gotten lost and frozen to death, leaving us out on the prairie away from all civilization and with no way to communicate with the camp which was so near and yet so far away. But, as if our thoughts [were] answered, we heard the squeaking of the wagon wheels on snow and then we knew Johnny Stillwell had been successful and we would soon have food and provisions enough to carry us on to Camp Supply. We were so filled with joy and thanksgiving that some began to shoot off their guns, but the officers soon stopped that for we would probably need all the ammunition we had before we were through with our campaign.
The wagons drove in, one wagon for each company, and two guards were placed over each wagon. We were formed into camp messes, about twelve in each mess, and each man was issued one hardtack and some coffee. We were told we could have more hardtack and coffee at midnight. Some of the boys refused to sleep for fear they would oversleep and not get their meager lunch at midnight. We stayed one more day, feeding our horses and letting them gain a little more strength so they could carry us on. We had only a few left, as the others had starved or frozen to death. During the time that Stillwell had been gone, Captain Allison J. Pliley and his company, with the best horses in the command, had started south. The rest of us, after resting and eating for a day and two nights, started for Camp Supply with two hundred of our horses dead and two hundred boys wading the snow, which was from sixteen to eighteen inches deep.
Lieutenant Colonel
George A. Custer had been waiting at Camp Supply for the Nineteenth regiment to reinforce him in his march to the Wichita [Washita] River, but fearing that we had all perished, he started on with his few mounted men, and at Antelope Hill he met Black Kettle and his little band of Indians. He had quite a little battle with them, and lost a few of his men but killed a good many Indians. As Custer looked down the valley he saw it was red with Indians so he decided he had better go back to Camp Supply as we had probably arrived there by that time. When he returned to Camp Supply we were there and partly recuperated. He said there was no time to be lost as the Indians would be getting further away. All of the Nineteenth who had horses joined with Custer and he also took the Third Infantry. We marched out of Camp Supply for the Washita River and after several days marching we came to a small stream where the Indians were camping, supposing Custer had given up and that they could live there in peace. [This was in March, 1869.] But when they saw Custer returning with reinforcements they knew they had reckoned with the wrong man. They decided to fight, but when Custer was forming his lines for battle they soon changed their minds and thought it best to surrender without losing any more of their warriors.
We were very much disappointed to think that we had suffered starvation and laid out half frozen, many with their feet and hands frozen and our uniforms in rags, and then we wouldn’t get to fight those Indians after all. From one camp to the other ran the messengers and interpreters with messages of truce. Custer finally went into the Indian camp and brought back four Indian chiefs. They were asked many questions in regard to the white women who had been captured eight miles west of Concordia [Kansas] in the fall of’ 67. They claimed the Sioux had them and that they didn’t know just where their camp was located. It was decided that…[three] chiefs should be held in our camp until the white women were found and given to us. The Indian messenger was sent back to the Indian camp with the message that if the white women were not brought to us by sundown, the chiefs would be hung. The Indian came back and asked for one more day in which to bring the women. Custer granted one more day to them, but told them no more time would be given them, that if they didn’t bring the white women we would hang their chiefs. About four o’clock the next day we could see an Indian ride up over the hill and look down into our camp and then ride back and after a while another would ride up and look down to see if we still held the chiefs. Finally an Indian came into camp and asked for just one more day, but Custer said “No—if those white women are not here by the time the sun is sending its last rays over that hill in the west, we will hang those…chiefs.” Just as the sun was setting, a big chief riding a beautiful black horse came up over the hill, and following him came the two white women on a gray pony. The chief brought them up to our lines and surrendered them to us. Custer turned to Colonel Horace Moore and said, “You are from Kansas. You receive and welcome those two women.” We had prepared a tent for them, and two guards had been placed over it, one at each end, and the women were escorted to the tent and everything was done for their comfort that was possible to be done out here in the wilderness. The old chief who had brought back the women then demanded we give up to him the…chiefs, but Custer said, “No, we’ll keep them a while.” He went back to camp and the Indians began to prepare for battle and we were very much delighted to think we would get to fight them after all. But at the last moment we were disappointed for they gave it up. We stayed in the camp for a couple of days as Custer thought maybe they would decide to start on the warpath, but they decided to let us keep the chiefs without a fight. The time for the Nineteenth to be discharged was drawing near, and so we were ordered to take the back trail for Fort Hays, where we duly received our honorable discharge….