As the soldiers moved into the canyon, the scouts saw the remains of the Cheyenne camp and waved the soldiers up. At the head of the dusty column rode Colonel Lewis. A few Indians assembled in the mock camp to serve as bait for the soldiers. The trap seemed to be working when one of the young agency Cheyenne fired before the soldiers reached the location where the ambush could be sprung. Lewis immediately ordered a retreat and the Indians had to start firing before the advance troops were out of range. Suddenly, a good plan of ambush had fallen apart and the Indians were forced to make a desperate stand against superior numbers.
Colonel Lewis ordered his troop carrying wagons forward and the Cheyenne watched in frustration as the wagons wheeled about and formed a barricade with the ends toward the dome, the mule teams protected by the wagons. Infantry poured from the wagons and began forming a skirmish line at the base of the canyon, out of the reach of most of the Indians’ weapons.
Lewis then ordered a flanking maneuver up the eastern and far less steep wall of the canyon. After a climb of only a few feet, a broad shelf along the canyon edge would form a good place for men on foot to make a forward maneuver.
With Captain Mauck, Lewis’ second in command, conducting a covering fire from scouts and cavalry at the skirmish line, Lewis led his 19th Infantry around the flank to overwhelm the Indians. As the troops climbed out of the canyon and circled the warriors, catching them in crossfire, the Indians made an attempt to repulse the charge. As Lewis led his troops to the top of the ridge, a small group of Indians formed their own skirmish line and waited. Unknown to Lewis, his maneuver had placed the snake head draw, presently known as Squaws’ Den, where the women and children were hidden, in a direct line of attack. The line of warriors would have to try to delay the troops long enough for the women and children to escape across the plains to the north of the draw. Lewis and his men met a withering fire of rifles as he topped the ridge. Several men went down. Gathering their wounded, the troops withdrew back over the crest and formed line of defense. From that position the troops directed rifle fire down upon the Cheyenne.
The desperate tactic of the warriors that allowed the women and children to escape suddenly worked against them as they found themselves caught in a cross fire between the Infantry to the east and the skirmish line to the southwest. The Indians were circled and some soldiers began firing on their packhorses. As the afternoon lengthened, the soldiers began to close in, coming on foot from both sides against the snake head draw and the dome above it, until they had all the Cheyenne warriors pinned. Try as they may, the Indians could only cower in the canyon while soldiers fired on them.
When the soldiers closed distance, with Colonel Lewis right behind them, Little Wolf ordered another round of intense fire. Several of the advancing troops went down, Lewis among them, a .50 caliber round in his thigh. As the troops retreated, sunset came upon the war ground.
Choosing to abandon sixty horses that were trapped in the canyon, the Cheyenne slipped away and rejoined the women and children during the night. At sunrise they heard gunfire as the soldiers destroyed the horse herd.
For the present the fight was over. Dull Knife’s people fled north into Nebraska with troops closing in from several directions. With no more options available to his starving band, Dull Knive surrendered October 25, 1878.
They were taken to nearby Fort Robinson but attempted another escape on January 9. Dull Knife was reported killed at Fort Robinson but his body was never formally identified. Only seventy-eight Cheyenne were left alive.
Little Wolf and his people came to avenge their Cheyenne brothers but they, too, were captured on March 25, 1879 in the southeastern corner of Montana. While this was happening, Dull Knife was found to be alive and captured. Upon the request of General Nelson Miles, the old man was allowed to settle in the Rosebud Valley that became a part of the Tongue River Reservation that was finally set up for the Northern Cheyenne.
The battleground is now on public land located eight miles north of Scott City, Kansas, owned by Scott County and leased to the Scott County Historical Society. A nearby lake and camp area provide the opportunity for several days of recreation. Visitors may hike, fish, camp, observe buffalo and elk in the wild and visit other historical points of interest, including the Springs and El Cuartelejo Ruins, an ancient Indian village. Admission to the battleground is free and visitors may wonder about the open pasturage that has changed little in the years since the battle. Special permission may have to be obtained, however, because stockmen graze cattle in the pasture. Only a stone marker of the battle site and a simple sign to mark where Lewis fell in battle stand in an otherwise lonely and windswept landscape. A few shallow rifle pits can still be located along the crest of the dome to mark where the Cheyenne attempted a surprise attack and defense.
Yet, if one knows the story of the valiant battle and the brave men who fought it on both sides, and can use some imagination as the lonely wind sweeps through the draws, it is almost possible to see the soldiers charging up the rise and to hear the shouts of the Cheyenne as they organized their defense, so many years ago.
Chapter 18
The Ranch at Cimarron Crossing
Hay Ranch
For two years men struggled to maintain a lonely outpost at the Santa Fe Trail Cimarron Crossing of the Arkansas River. Isolation and the threat of death from Indian raids constantly skewed their lives and their fortunes.
From its earliest years after establishment, the Santa Fe Trail split into two routes along a thirty-mile corridor of the Arkansas River Valley of the plains of Kansas Territory. The Mountain Route (or Raton) followed the north bank of the river to Bent’s Fort, Colorado, before crossing the river and twisting south along the east slope of the Rocky Mountains toward Raton Pass. The Cut-off passage crossed the Arkansas and swept sixty miles southwest along the desert trail called the Jornada del Muerte toward Middle Spring of the Cimarron River Valley. From 1825-1845 the Cut-off was the favored route of Santa Fe traders. As White settlement and commerce grew along the Arkansas River Valley, the longer Mountain Branch slowly grew to dominance. Caravans wanted to remain with the river as long as possible and during this same time period, the Cimarron Crossing drifted to the west as trail blazers experimented and found alternate routes for crossing the Jornada. The Arkansas River of today is a shadow of what it was in the middle of the 19th century. According to Major James H. Carleton’s diary of 1852:
Crossed the Arkansas about eighteen miles from the fort (Fort Atkinson) and had some difficulty in transit. The Arkansas River was a little over a quarter of a mile in width and is just up to the bottom of the carriages, but we escaped any wetting. The banks are low and it don’t appear that the river ever rises more than about eight feet, and that it overflows its banks. The waters are as muddy as the Missouri River. The banks are bare of timber and underbrush and do not contain any rock. The east side is sheltered with a range of sand hills some eight to ten miles wide.
Crossing the river usually took an entire day with each wagon having to be double and sometimes triple teamed. As the wagons were forded, they were usually assembled on the south bank of the river until the men could see to the crossing of the entire caravan. It didn’t take long for the Indians of the region to realize that if they intended to raid the caravans, the best time was when the caravans were split on either side and crews were spread thin. Often times only a token defense force was left with the south wagons with most of the men in the river or teaming the wagons on the north bank. These “south bank” men were usually the least experienced and the easiest to panic. In times of hostility, which broke out periodically a long the trail, the Arkansas River fording became the most dangerous operation of the Cimarron Cut-off passage.
Several military posts and camps were established and abandoned along this area of the river reflecting intermittent periods of war and peace. Finally, during the Civil War, Fort Dodge was permanently established near Black Pool of the Lower Crossing, or the Mulberry Creek Route
of the Cut-off. The military tried to choose a location where troops could be dispatched to protect caravan and stage line crossings either to the east Lower Crossing or west Cimarron Crossing. Generally, during times of suspected Indian activity, infantry troops were dispatched in wagons to guard the caravans during the crossings.
Private entrepreneurs realized that profitable businesses could be established along the Santa Fe Trail supplying feed, emergency supplies and equipment, fresh livestock, liquor, and meals to stages and caravans. These ranches, as they were termed at the time, were the 19th century Old West equivalent of the modern motel and gas station complexes that dominate the major interstate highways of the West today. They could be especially lucrative if under contract with stage line holding a government mail contract.
Two brothers from New Hampshire, thirty-one-year-old John Francis (Frank) and twenty-two-year-old William Hartwell sold their failing interest in Six-Mile Creek station near Council Grove. Upon advice of the Santa Fe Stage Line division superintendent the brothers formed a partnership with James Ripley and Dutch Henry to establish a ranch at Cimarron Crossing on the slope above the flood plain of the Arkansas River. While William stayed behind to close out Six-Mile Creek station, a crew of six men went on to begin construction of the ranch. Charles Raber, a freighter of the period, wrote a description of Cimarron Crossing Ranch as it appeared in 1866:
At this point (Cimarron Crossing) there was a well-equipped stage station, consisting of adobe houses and a large corral in which stage coaches or trains could find shelter in case of an attack by Indians. At the northeast and southwest corners were large towers provided with portholes. They were also used for sleeping rooms.
A force of twelve well-armed men manned the station, dividing labors between harvesting the six-foot tall grass in the flood plain for hay, guarding livestock and servicing the stages and caravans traveling along the trail. Other than one Indian raid upon livestock with a loss of several hundred dollars, the first year (1866) went fairly well. Indians appeared to be generally observing the peace treaty of 1865.
Perhaps, one of the strangest incidents to befall the ranch that year was the arrival of a lone woman walking across the plains carrying an old quilt and umbrella. Except for her worn clothing and “loony” disposition, she was neat and tidy.
The crew asked her where she came from but she only gave the name of a town and could not remember the state. She ate supper, gathered up her belongings in a bundle and left as the crew did evening chores. Who she was, where she went and what became of her remained a mystery. However, other legends of western Kansas settlement involving such places as White Woman Creek and Starving Woman Creek, farther west, indicate that such circumstances were not as uncommon as one might think. Madness resulting from the isolation and harsh conditions of the plains claimed many men and women of the time. My great-grandmother, an early settler near Fort Larned, related tales of the horrifying loneliness of life on the prairie and fears that she would “lose her sanity” before her children were born.
In January of 1867, the ranch experienced its first incident with hostiles. John Sullivan, an Arapaho warrior, and several other tribe members crossed the frozen river and entered the main storeroom of the main house as if to trade. Upon entering the storeroom, they began ransacking and helping themselves to the goods. Ripley was unable to control them and called upon the Hartwells for help. William entered the room alone and told Sullivan to get out of the store.
Sullivan approached the young storekeeper boldly, spat on his fingers and began snapping them in Hartwell’s face. Hartwell took hold of a wagon wheel spoke and knocked Sullivan to the floor with a blow to the head. The other braves went for their bows but Frank and Ripley entered with drawn Colt Navy revolvers. The Indians began to throw down their weapons and plead, “no shoot” as they gave up the goods in a pile on the floor.
William took a skillet, wet a rag in whisky, dropped it in along with several hands full of sulfur and placed the brew on the hot stove. The white men left the room, closing and barring the doors behind them. Within minutes, the Arapaho warriors were choking and coughing, begging to be set free. Waiting as long as they thought was wise, the brothers allowed the Indians to leave, giving them a supply of flour as a sort of peace offering.
Toward the end of February the Jim Baker trapping party arrived at the ranch to report Cheyenne had stolen four mules and two horses from them on the upper Cimarron River. Major Henry Douglass of Fort Dodge reported that Baker made the statement that from his twenty-three years experience of dealing with Indians, he felt that the Indians would break into open hostility in the spring. By the end of March, Douglass sent a warning to Baker at Cimarron Ranch stating that he had been informed that the trappers were planning a retaliatory raid. He urged them to abandon the scheme.
The warning did little good. Baker and eight others raided Little Raven’s Arapaho band on April 17 and headed for the Upper Arkansas. This action was especially agitating for the military as Little Raven’s band was friendly with the whites and had no part in any of the thievery up to that time.
On April 17, Major Wickliffe Cooper received orders to proceed into the Cimarron Crossing area with a squadron (Companies B and C) of the Seventh U.S. cavalry to meet suspected Cheyenne and Sioux hostility. Wickliffe established a camp near the crossing and sent out patrols to intercept all Indians crossing the river to the north. Warriors were discovered at the crossing by a scout on the 19th. Lt. Matthew Berry and a detachment of twenty men were fired upon and returned fire. Six Cheyenne and Sioux fought until killed. A fresh white woman’s scalp was found upon one of the Indian bodies.
On April 28 Company I, 37th U.S. infantry soldiers were dispatched to help with temporary defense of the ranch. Eleven infantrymen strengthened the defense force to twenty-five men. Much of the time was spent adding to the fortifications of the ranch.
On June 5, 1867, a raiding party of unknown tribe hit a Mexican wagon train near the mouth of Mulberry Creek, killing four men, wounding five and running off much of the stock. On June 7, Juan Montoya, of Simitar, Rio Abajo, had thirty-three mules stolen by Kiowa as he camped at the Cimarron Crossing ranch. Many felt, including Douglass, that the raids were related. William Hartwell states in his journal that he felt the Mexicans were hit more often by the raiders because they were so poorly armed and organized. Douglass stated in a June military report that the Mexicans were inadequately armed.
On June 12, a band of Kiowa under Satanta stole seventy-one horses from Company B, Seventh cavalry, east of Fort Dodge. Pvt. Joe Spillman, the herder, died the next day from arrow wounds received in the raid. Satanta’s band was far from finished with raiding the river valley as the men of Cimarron Crossing would find out.
On June 16, as the Charles Parker caravan was engaged in crossing the river to the return to the states, Kiowa hit both sides of the river simultaneously. The Kiowa hit as Parker’s six wagons were on the north shore and a remaining herd of mules was being pastured on the south under four guards. Hartwell and his companions watched the raid as it transpired in the valley.
The mule guards were some two hundred yards away from their wagons, when in an instant the Indians were upon them, a band of fifty, at least, riding in a circle and fighting as they rushed up. Puffs of smoke and crack, crack, crack arose from the tall grass in the circle, the redskins sheering off at each shot, only to rush on again between fires, and yet the men gained their wagons, where one of them fell shot dead. The second one broke for, and gained the waters of the friendly river, while the third, a Frenchman, hurriedly climbed into a wagon loaded with wool and crawled under the sacks. The Indians gathered around, stripped off the cover, ripped open the packs and pulled the unhappy wretch out by the hair of the head.
We could hear his shrieks, Maria, Dias, mia—but an Indian is an utter stranger to pity. A pistol shot, and all was over with the unfortunate man. The one that made the river escaped and fortunately, for the fourth one, he had crossed and com
e up to the ranch, just before the attack. The Indians being fired upon from another wagon, in the islands of the river, mounted and tauntingly shook the two gory scalps as they retreated to the hills.
The Cimarron ranch defenders and Parker’s north river force were able to drive the other Kiowa off. The army suffered one fatal casualty when a soldier accidentally shot himself during the battle and one wounded, a Private James Collins. The Frenchman and twenty-two-year-old Curtis Hill were buried south of the river. From reading several versions of the raid, it is safe to assume that all of the hostilities took place in the valley and the Kiowa made no attempt upon the ranch buildings. They were interested in stealing livestock and showed no interest in the well-fortified structure.
The men stayed close to the buildings for the rest of the month but by the middle of July with supplies running low, the stage company offered a contract of two thousand dollars for a hundred tons of hay. Hartwell’s group took the contract and began mowing of the river bottoms. On the 18th after a week of work with no problems, the men became careless. Two men named Barney and Sam were working with the Hartwell brothers. Sam and William were rousting some oxen used for hay wagons. Barney and Frank were mowing the hay with a four up team of horses. Only Frank was carrying any firearms, the others had left their guns on the wagons while doing the heavy work of haying. At ten that morning, William noticed Kiowa riding down upon them. He ordered Sam to the wagons to retrieve the guns and cover him while he warned the mowing crew who were unable to hear shouts of warning. Trying to get the mowers’ attention, William took off his red flannel shirt and began waving it. When he realized that he was not able to get their attention and that the Indians were almost upon him, he made a dash for the safety of the river. He was able to see Frank and Barney abandon the mower and run for safety as well as Sam making it to the wagons and the firearms. Wearing only light pants and moccasins, William was able to give the braves a good chase. He could hear them cursing him in English and stating that he would “never make the river.” As a lead brave closed in on him with a lance, he lost his hope of making the river and turned to rush the Indian. The brave’s horse shied and nearly unhorsed its rider. As the Indian tried to regain control of his mount they rushed past Hartwell, who was able to make it to the river.
Heroes of the Santa Fe Trail Page 17
