The Indian War of 1864 - Chapters 28-30



CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE UNFRIENDLY DINNER.--APOSTLE CANNON.--JOE SMITH.--THE MORMON DOCTRINE.--
ALKALI STATION.--THE MORMON TRAIN.--THE RIVER CROSSING.--CHAMPAGNE WITH 
BANCROFT.--ELSTON'S PROPHECY.

   SHORTLY after the Captain reassumed command of the Post, he and I were 
invited to the stage station, one day, for dinner. There was a long table 
with about ten on each side. They were the drivers of the stage line, 
about as rough and jolly a lot of men as I ever saw. They were talking 
about the Indian scare, and the probabilities of an Indian outbreak, and 
how General P. Edward Connor was coming through from Salt Lake to take 
charge. And the whole dinner was a loud and uproarious occasion. The 
profanity was pyrotechnic.

   One of the stage-drivers who was pretty loud, got to talking about the 
dangers that would follow an Indian outbreak. Every man at the table had 
on a revolver; some of them two. This loud-talking and vivacious stage-
driver said he believed that the Cheyenne Indians could come and take the 
post. Captain O'Brien asked him what made him think so. He made some sort 
of a flippant reply which brought on a controversy, and this stage-driver 
pretended to take offense at what the Captain said, and told the Captain 
that he, the stage-driver, had a notion to go across the table and break 
him in two.

   Thereupon the Captain quickly arose with his hand on his revolver and 
told him that he must not talk that way, and if he wanted to do any 
shooting that he could always get satisfaction; that he, the Captain, 
would shoot toe to toe, or across the table, or across the corral, or 
across the prairie, or across the river. The fellow was inclined to be 
ugly, but as he looked at the Captain he did not think it wise to say much 
more.

   I do not know how many of those present had their hands on their 
revolvers, but I guess everyone around the table. I had mine ready. The 
Captain said he believed he did not care to eat any more dinner where such 
discourtesy was shown, and he withdrew from the table with his hand on his 
revolver, passing out of the door, and keeping his eye upon those present; 
I did the same. We went out, got on our horses, and went up to the post.

   It was without doubt a put-up job to get us down there at dinner and 
have some fun with us. Some of them had been Confederate soldiers. Of 
course we never knew whether there was a design to be gay with us, but we 
took good care not to get into such a situation again. Some of the stage-
drivers we knew personally; some we did not know, but had generally 
regarded them all as good fellows, and, singly and personally, they were; 
but, in bulk they were not very desirable acquaintances for officers in 
blue uniform.

   One day, early in December, I was up on top of our stable gazing around 
with my field-glass, as I often used to do, to see if anything suspicious 
could be seen on the horizon, or up on the hills, when I noticed a dark 
speck up Lodgepole Creek. It was so much enveloped in haze that I could 
not make it out for a long time. Finally I saw that it was a covered 
wagon. I bad a corporal and five men immediately go over to where it was, 
for fear that some Indian might rise up out of the grass and kill the 
traveler.

   When he arrived at the post the occupant of the vehicle introduced 
himself to me as Mr. Cannon. He had a driver and a large, fine four-mule 
light-running wagon with rubber cover. I told Mr. Cannon that he would 
have to stay until a hundred armed men were going East. He very much 
opposed this, and did his utmost to persuade me to disobey my orders in 
such cases. He told me that he was one of the twelve apostles of the 
Mormon Church, and he was going East to meet an appointment, and if he 
were long delayed it would be very unfortunate. He told me, as every other 
Mormon did, that he was not afraid of the Indians, and that no Indian ever 
killed a Mormon. But I was compelled to hold him; told him that I could 
not permit the orders to be violated; would have a train ready for him as 
soon as possible, and that there were already quite a number of wagons in 
corral near the post.

   Cannon was a very fine, dignified-looking gentleman, and very much 
inclined to talk. And when I found he was a Mormon apostle, I was very 
desirous of hearing what he had to say, having already had the advantage 
of desultory conversations with his predecessor, Elder Sharpe, of whom I 
have spoken. As an evangelist and lecturer on the Mormon faith, Cannon was 
very much superior to Sharpe. Cannon saw the dogs, and wanted to see a 
wolf-hunt; so I with ten men went out on horseback with him. While on the 
hunt he got to telling me about the Mormon faith, and its introduction by 
Joe Smith. There came between us a series of very interesting colloquies. 
I would now be unable to depict these, except that I not only made full 
notes of them at the time, but I also wrote them out fully in letters to 
my Mother, upon whose death I found them all preserved. I am able, 
therefore, to go into the matter with more detail than I otherwise would, 
but will have to condense them very much here.

   I asked him how be knew that the Indians were the lost tribes of 
Israel. He then went on to tell me how the lost tribes of Israel wandered 
from their country, came to the United States, and how they increased and 
spread out, and prospered. Then he gave me a long history of the wars that 
took place between them. He told me of the battles which were fought, one 
after another. At the place where Cincinnati now stands a great battle had 
been fought. There were pursuits by one tribe of another. One tribe 
endeavored to annihilate another. There was a great battle where 
Charleston, South Carolina, now stands, and there were secretaries who 
acted as historians to keep run of the vicissitudes of these wide and 
bloody wars.

   Then he told about how finally the record was made which Joe Smith 
found. He described to me the size of the gold plates upon which the 
characters containing these records were engraved. These gold plates 
contained it all, and had been placed in a stone box, and hidden in a hill 
in New York. He kept using scriptural quotations continually. He told how 
Joe Smith had found these plates, and had translated them. I asked him 
what kind of characters were on these plates. He said that he had not seen 
them, but he had had them described to him. He said they were not like the 
Roman letters, nor the Greek letters, nor the Chinese, nor the Hebrew, but 
they were written in a sort of elegant, cursive hand, something not unlike 
Pitman shorthand, smoothly, but with an entirely different character and 
meaning. He said nobody could read the characters without they had the 
tools to read them with. I asked him what he meant. He said that with 
these plates in the stone box there were placed two transparent pebbles, 
one for each eye to look through. These pebbles were rights and lefts, and 
must be held up before the eye, each pebble for the proper eye, and that 
when looking through those pebbles anybody could read the writing; that 
the pebbles themselves illuminated the mind of the reader, so that the 
reader, so long as he was looking through the pebbles, could read and 
understand the script, no matter what his native language was, but that he 
could not understand anything by simply looking at the plates with his 
unaided eyes.

   I asked him why it was that as an apostle he had never seen these 
plates. He said that he did not dare to look at them. I asked him where 
they were. He said they were in a vault in Salt Lake; that they were sewed 
up in a heavy buckskin bag. He had hefted the bag, and it weighed about 25 
pounds. He said that he had felt of them, and could perceive the size and 
thickness of the plates in the buckskin bag, but if anyone should look at 
those plates with unaided eyes, and without the urim and thummim they 
would be stricken dead. (The pebbles were named "urim" and "thummim.")

   I asked him if the Mormons had any proof of immortality that any other 
of the religious denominations had not. He said that they had, but that 
the proof only came individually to those who belonged to the church, and 
had been consecrated. In response to further questions he gave the Mormon 
theory of birth and life.

   He said that every person upon the earth came to the earth from heaven; 
that everybody was born in heaven; that in heaven the person was simply a 
celestial spirit without a body, and had to come to the earth to get a 
body, and that having come to the earth and obtained a body, that is, 
having been born, then they on death became angels, capable of having 
children; but that the children born in heaven were celestial angels, who 
themselves had to come down to the earth to get bodies so that they in 
turn might be parents of other celestial angels. He said the object is, on 
this earth, to furnish bodies for as many celestial angels as possible, 
and thereby do good, because there are great numbers of celestial angels 
who need and want bodies, and who are waiting to be born on this earth so 
as to get them. And hence the father and mother of the most children did 
the most good, and it was for that reason that polygamy was advocated, and 
so much esteemed. He said the object of polygamy is to give bodies, as 
many as possible, to the celestial angels who are ready to inhabit them, 
and therefore the more children one has on earth the higher his standing 
in heaven.

   I said, how did it come, if that were the case, how did it come that 
the human race was planted here on this earth? He said that the Lord was 
constantly making Planets, and places for human abodes. It is work that is 
going on all of the time. When the earth was created, and became ready for 
human habitation, it was a question as to who should be sent to populate 
it. There were three archangels in heaven, and they all wanted the 
privilege of starting the human race on the earth. They were Lucifer, 
Michael, and Adam. Lucifer claimed the right because he was the senior 
archangel, and had a pride to be the originator of the race on this 
planet. Michael advocated no particular claim, and Adam in a humble way 
said, "The Lord's will be done." On account of the meekness and modesty of 
Adam, the Lord delegated him to come to the earth, and inaugurate the new 
system. These archangels had their own hosts of friends, followers and 
retainers in heaven, as well as individual territorial jurisdiction, and 
when Adam was sent down to the earth, Lucifer revolted, and his cohorts 
stayed with him and there was war in heaven, and Lucifer was finally 
expelled. And then Apostle Cannon with a delightful gesture said, "And 
then, in the language of holy writ, be drew one-third of the stars from 
heaven with him."

   After I got over being somewhat stunned by this new theory, I said to 
him. "Well, then, you said I was born in heaven?" "Yes," replied Mr. 
Cannon. "And came down from there?" "Yes." "Well, then, if I was in 
heaven, I was in that war." "Yes," said Mr. Cannon. "Well, now," I said to 
him, "why is it that I don't remember that war?" He said, "You are not 
expected to while you are in your corporal form here on earth, but you 
were in that war and you helped fight Lucifer," and as he said this he 
patted me on the shoulder as we rode along. "In that war I have no doubt 
that you fought bravely and well, because you are an officer in command of 
a company here now." This knocked me entirely out of the box, and was the 
end of the propaganda. I said, "Oh, rats!" and we changed the subject.

   Cannon was a very delightful and companionable gentleman. I remembered 
him always as be appeared then. In a short time he went down the road with 
a caravan. Many years afterwards, in 1892, at the National Republican 
Presidential Convention at Minneapolis, Mr. Cannon's son was there as a 
delegate from Utah with a contested seat. I was one of the delegates to 
the National Convention. I went in, took a look at young Mr. Cannon, liked 
his appearance, told him that I knew and remembered his father, and that I 
would assist him in getting a seat in the convention. I worked for him in 
the caucus, listened with pleasure to his speech to the delegates, and 
voted for him. He was admitted.

   Apostle Cannon left on December 7th, 1864, just as a storm of 
unexampled severity came with a hurricane from the northwest, and lasted 
for three days. We could not get outside of the post. Water was carried to 
the horses in buckets from the well, and everybody stayed indoors. But we 
were very snug in our quarters. They were thick, and heavily built with a 
heavy roof, which was about two feet thick, covered over with well-laid, 
nicely joined layers of sod. We did nothing but tell stories, and play 
cards, cook and eat. In fact, there was nothing else to do. The weather 
stayed cold for quite a while.

   Company "A" of our regiment had been sent up to occupy a place about 
twenty-five miles east of us, called Alkali station, and Captain O'Brien 
went down there with Lieutenant Brewer. Going down, they passed a large 
Mormon train, consisting almost entirely of freight wagons, but all drawn 
by horses and mules. There were no ox teams, because at this season of the 
year there was no green pasturage. The train was laden principally with 
supplies coming west, and was going as rapidly as possible. They wanted to 
get through to Laramie before they made a halt. The Platte river at 
Julesburg was frozen over from shore to shore. Captain O'Brien telegraphed 
me from Alkali, and told me to use every exertion to speed the train; that 
it was liable to be caught and ruined by the weather before it got to 
Laramie; that at Laramie they could take care of the animals in the Black 
Hills near there, and could push on farther when ready. The Captain also 
sent me a letter in charge of the wagon-master, requesting me to do my 
level best to get them across the river as speedily as possible, for their 
hurry and their danger were great. I was very much worried over the order. 
I hardly knew what to do, but I made up my mind as to one thing, that a 
route across the river ought to be quickly chopped out of the ice. The ice 
was not heavy enough to hold up the teams. It was in some places, but in 
the shoal places, where the water was only two or three inches deep, the 
wagon would cut through, and down in, and the only way to do was to cut 
them a channel clear across the river. So I went above the post to the 
Mormon crossing, and by chopping holes, and testing the river, I selected 
what I thought was the best and firmest route. I then went back to the 
post and detailed fifty men to go up with me to chop out the ice. We had a 
large number of axes and picks at the post, and I laid out a route about 
twelve feet wide, marked it on the ice, and set the boys to chopping so as 
to break the ice. This was accomplished in one day satisfactorily, but the 
weather was quite cold. We started in again the next day to get the ice 
out of the proposed wagon channel. We did not get to work until about ten 
o'clock, and with pitchforks and shovels we tried to do some of it, but we 
did not accomplish much before dinner. We all went back, after dinner, 
about two o'clock in the afternoon, to work on the river. The weather had 
become quite cold, and it became necessary to get the ice out as soon as 
possible, as it was said that the head of the train could be seen coming 
from the east. There appeared no way that was convenient or effective to 
get the ice out of that gap. It was difficult to push it down under the 
ice on top, and it was very difficult to lift it out with any appliances 
we had. In some places the water was quite shallow, and the deepest was 
about four feet. The deepest of the water was the nearest to us on the 
south side. I ordered the men to jump into the water, and begin lifting 
out the ice with their hands. The men did not seem to take kindly to it, 
and did not seem desirous of obeying the order. It was a pretty severe 
order, there in freezing weather, to get men into the water, and lift ice, 
and get all wet. So in order to get my commands enforced, I jumped in and 
had the orderly sergeant jump in near me, and we commenced raising the ice 
and tumbling it over onto the down-stream side. In a very short time I was 
soaked, and the water was quite cold. And the men, seeing how the thing 
was going, all jumped in, and we went across the river throwing the ice 
out until we got the channel cleared.

   Then I got the men all out on the bank, gave the command of "double-
quick," and we all started to run to the post. We went to the post in good 
shape, and got pretty well limbered, and the men got into the barracks and 
took off their clothes, and dried off. I got on some dry clothes just as 
the train was going by, and I went out to it and took charge of the matter 
of crossing; I stationed the fellows along the line of the channel with 
the whips which the drivers generally carried, and started them all in, 
and before dark the Mormon train was across the river on the other side. 
There were about thirty wagons of them, and as the channel was narrow, and 
the mules confined to the road, it was one of the best crossings I ever 
saw made on the Platte river.

   After the train had all gone I found that I had got pretty thoroughly 
wet again in seeing them across, and carrying out the orders given me. Mr. 
Bancroft, the man from whom we bought the ranch from which we made our 
post, was on the bank watching the proceedings. He had a little, light, 
covered wagon, and where he was going to or coming from I do not remember. 
Maybe he did not tell me, but he said to me: "That was the finest crossing 
I ever saw made, and I heard that you fellows got right into the water and 
lifted the ice out with your hands." I said, "Yes, that is the way we did 
it." He said: "I want to tell you that is mighty satisfactory work as 
viewed by an outsider, and I have got some champagne in this wagon, and I 
think you ought to drink a quart of it." I said, "I am capable of drinking 
a quart right quick." So be brought out two quart bottles of champagne, 
and on the windward side of the wagon I drank one of them in about two 
minutes by the watch, and he drank one of them. I never saw him again 
until at least twenty years afterward, when I happened to meet him down in 
southwestern Missouri, where he said be was carrying on a flour mill. Mr. 
Bancroft had undoubtedly got from the Government the money for his ranch, 
and was engaged in high living, when I met him on the bank with the 
champagne.

   Charley Elston, the scout, was nominally attached to our post, but as 
there was no particular work for him, he divided his time between us and 
Cottonwood Springs. But he kept all the time saying that we were going to 
catch it from the Indians before we got through. He would take rides out 
into the country off the road, and there were stories of how he found 
tracks of Indian lookouts along the line. He also told us of many rumors 
which were brought through by the pilgrims on the trains, and he kept 
constantly advising us to always be on the lookout, because "the first 
thing you know," he would say, "they will be onto your post here with 
their war paint on."



CHAPTER XXIX.
CHRISTMAS, 1864.--THE TWO BANDITS.--THE MIDNIGHT RAID.--THE MIDNIGHT 
PARLEY.--THE RETURN TO QUARTERS.--MY NEW ORDERLY.--MY NEW PONY.--AN 
ARAPAHOE WAR PONY.--AN INDIAN CAPTIVE.--THE ORDERLY'S STORY.--HIGH 
PRICES.--IDAHO TERRITORY.

   ON DECEMBER 20, 1864, the report came that Thomas had whipped Hood down 
in Tennessee; so we had a celebration again, in which we fired off our 
cannon at a target, and thus gained experience in target exercise as well 
as venting our enthusiasm.

   In the course of the proceedings, the work, the scouting and the escort 
duty, we had lost the use of ten or a dozen of our horses, and there had 
been sent to Cottonwood Springs a lot of horses for the cavalry service. 
They had been placed there in the corral subject to assignment by the 
Quartermaster. So, after we had a big Christmas celebration, the Captain 
went down to Cottonwood to see if he couldn't get horses enough for a full 
remount. Our Christmas at Julesburg was quite an affair. We had dress 
parade, fired off the howitzers at a target, cooked the best beef we could 
find in the herd, and everybody wrote letters home. But some of the men 
got boisterously drunk, and on inspection I found out the cause of it.

   A man had come in, and about a mile below Julesburg, which itself was a 
mile below our post, had repaired up and rebuilt and put in shape a two-
room sad house, and be had been running a whisky establishment patronized 
by pilgrims in the first room, and a poker establishment in the rear room. 
He had been afraid to sell any whisky to the soldiers, and he had not been 
discovered. But shortly before Christmas he had been joined by another 
bandit, and they had begun selling whisky to the soldiers, and cheating 
them out of their money playing poker in the back room. This went on for 
two or three days, until the first thing that I knew there had been a lot 
of my men down there, having a row with a lot of pilgrims, and having a 
shooting-match with these two proprietors, who needed killing as badly as 
any two men on the Platte river.

   The next thing that I heard was that these two bandits had attempted to 
kill and rob one of my men, had cheated a lot of them out of their money, 
and that there was a posse of my company going down to kill them both. I 
could hardly believe the stories that were told me privately by the non-
commissioned officers, and by some of the men who knew all about the 
proposed plan. It was given to me one afternoon between Christmas and New 
Year's that some of the boys in the company were going to go down and 
lynch those two ranchmen (as they called themselves). Finally, I heard 
that it was to be the night of the 29th. Captain O'Brien and First 
Lieutenant Brewer, the Quartermaster, had both gone to Cottonwood Springs 
as stated, to make requisition and receipt for horses, and I was left all 
alone, and I was told that night they were going to lynch those two men, 
sure, and that both of them were Rebel deserters.

   Nobody seemed to understand the extent of the plot, nor how many there 
were in it, but from what I could learn, all the toughest characters in my 
company had, by a sort of Masonic secrecy, planned to work together. That 
evening at roll-call, while the men were all drawn up in line, I told them 
that there had been rumors that some of them were going out of the camp 
that night, and were going to commit some depredations. I told them that 
if that should take place, and any citizen would be killed, that it would 
result in my being dismissed from the service as being unable to command 
my company; that I did not intend to be dismissed from the service; that I 
did not intend to let anybody go down the road, and commit any 
impropriety. And I told them that in view of the fact I would change the 
guard somewhat tonight, and there would be a little stronger detail than 
before.

   After the company disbanded the orderly sergeant came to me, and told 
me that he believed the whole matter had been abandoned, and that there 
would be no trouble. But I was fearful of it, and while I did not think 
that there should be any real reason why I should prevent the two bandits 
being lynched, I knew that I could never explain it, and that it was my 
military duty to see that it did not happen.

   I selected particular camp guards for that night, and put them outside 
of the post, one on each of the four sides. Before the guards were set, I 
called them into my headquarters and told them that I expected that there 
would be some men start out to commit some devilment that night below the 
station. I told them that I wanted them to keep close guard that the men 
did not run past in bulk or did not slip out one by one, and join 
themselves together down the road. I also told the corporal of the guard 
that I wanted him to report to me every thirty minutes. Along about eleven 
o'clock the corporal of the guard came to me and told me that two men 
certainly had slipped out during the night, and had been seen. I 
immediately called my orderly, and had him saddle up my black pony, of 
which I will speak more hereafter. I immediately went into the barracks to 
see how many of the men were on hand, and I found ten of them gone. I had 
the pony tied up in front of the office while I got my carbine and 
revolver loaded with some cartridges, and a pocketful of crackers to eat.

   Just as I had got about ready to start, the corporal of the guard came 
in, and said that there was about a dozen more of the boys that had run 
the guards. So I got onto my pony, and not desiring to give them any clue 
to my coming, I rode out in a big circle on the prairie as fast as I could 
go, so as to get ahead of them. It was a long ride. Coming down to about a 
hundred yards of Julesburg station, I got down to the ground, and in the 
darkness I heard and dimly saw a large squad of the men walking on down at 
a route step towards me. I had got in ahead of them in the dark.

   I rode up towards them until I got within about two hundred feet of 
them, and I cried "Halt!" and dismounted from my pony, and raised my 
carbine. They huddled together, and came more slowly. Finally I again 
ordered them to halt, and told them that I wanted them to stay halted 
until they heard what I had to say. They halted in silence. I told them 
that I knew what they were after; that it was a crime which they proposed 
to commit; that they had no right to kill Rebels that way; that if I 
permitted it I would be unfit to command the company; that I didn't 
propose to let them go any farther; that I would shoot the first man that 
got up near enough for me to draw a bead on him; that if they started to 
run around me, I would get as many of them as I could with my carbine; 
that I wanted them to stay together; that I wanted them to turn about 
right face and march back to the post. They remained still, and commenced 
whispering to each other. I then threw the bridle-rein around my pony's 
neck, gave him a kick, and off he started back to the post. I then told 
them that I was going to march them back to the post. I heard a revolver 
click, and then I clicked my carbine, brought it up to my eye, pointed it 
in the midst; they were about forty feet from me. I said, "You cannot 
shoot so quickly that I cannot get one of you. Now make up your minds to 
go back, because there is where you are going. There is no hurry about it; 
take plenty of time, but decide it right. You are not going a foot farther 
down the river tonight." I held the carbine up to my eye; I pointed at the 
group, and I kept holding it. It seemed a long while. I knew the men could 
make a rush, but they could not keep me from shooting at least one of 
them, and as I had two revolvers in my belt, both of them cocked, I knew 
that I was as safe as any of them. I knew that if they had time they would 
come to the right conclusion. They did not want to hurt me. Finally, after 
a very long pause, I beard one of them say, "Well, let's go back," and 
they began turning around, and starting back. I followed them, and I said, 
"Quick time-march," and the speed became more rapid. Finally I said, after 
we had gone a while, "Double-quick-march," and they all started off on the 
run. And they ran away from me for the reason, which I did not think of, 
that they wanted to get up into the post, and perhaps far enough ahead of 
me to evade identification. I was weighted down so with lunch, overcoat, 
revolvers, carbine and ammunition, that I could not keep up, and they got 
ahead of me. The sentinel ordered them to stop, but they ran right over 
him, and he, disinclined to kill any of his comrades, let them go. My pony 
had come back to the post.

   It was between one and two o'clock in the morning, and as bleak a 
December midnight as I ever saw. I sat up in my headquarters, not knowing 
whether they would attempt anything further or not, but determined to stay 
wide awake until morning.

   After about an hour, say about three o'clock, one of the sergeants came 
in to me and said, "Those men who came back agreed among themselves, that 
they would come back, that then they would start out again, so you are 
liable to have a repetition before morning." I went out to the barracks, 
and I found them all awake. Everybody was sitting up, and the performances 
of the evening were being discussed. And I went in with my two revolvers 
buckled on, and told them that if anybody now started out to commit any 
depredation that they would know that I ordered them to stay in the 
barracks, and if anything was done I would have the offender court-
martialed, and shot; that I thought I would have sufficient influence with 
the General commanding to have a man who would willfully disobey an order 
of that kind, shot, providing I couldn't do it myself, and that I would 
stay around until morning to see that no depredations were committed. I 
further said that I expected the support of all the honest and loyal 
soldiers in the company; that whisky was at the bottom of it all, and I 
thought perhaps by this time the effects of it had been worn off, and that 
I wanted all the members of the company to return to their duties and 
obligations; that we were soon going to have an Indian campaign, and I 
wanted my company to distinguish itself, and I did not want them to have a 
reputation in advance which would not commend it to the good wishes of the 
commanding officers of the district.

   Matters finally sort of died down, but I went out to talk with the 
sentinels myself every thirty minutes, and when morning came the thing was 
a memory. But the occasion and circumstance of my being out on that wild 
prairie that black night has always been a weird recollection. Before 
thirty days were over many of the men were in their graves. The two 
ranchmen disappeared. I tried to get them, but failed by reason of their 
timely flight.

   A word here in extenuation of the conduct of my men. The two ranchmen 
ought to have been killed. I tried to get them next morning so as to put 
them under guard, and do something with them, but they had fled. My men 
under the influence of such vile whisky felt like doing anything. The men 
only got into those conditions spasmodically and at long intervals. They 
always meant well and never dodged work, exposure, or danger. As a whole 
they were a likeable lot, and their transgressions were as few as their 
service was hard, lonesome and bitter. I pretended never to know who were 
in this trouble and I never had any with the company afterwards. It 
grieved me at the time, but I soon got over it, and forgot it.

   Having told about my pony on the evening alluded to, it occurs to me 
that I ought to say something about that pony. Sometime during November 
the young man, a citizen, whom I had been employing to take care of my 
horses, and whose position was that of an "orderly," as it was called, 
desired to go back to the "States." While waiting for a train and a proper 
occasion, he communicated his intention to me, and a young fellow about 
nineteen came and applied for his job. He did not have much to say. I 
asked him if he was acquainted with the care of horses, and he said that 
he was. Then I asked him if he could stand the climate, and the 
disagreeable conditions of military service, and he said he thought he 
could; and I employed him. The Government issued rations to an orderly and 
the two horses that a lieutenant had. I paid an orderly $20 a month, and 
he got his rations from the Government, and all he had to do was to 
provide his own clothes and do the work.

   I always rode my black horse "Old Bill," and I turned over to my new 
orderly the other one, which had got into bad condition, and told him to 
bring the horse up to a better efficiency. My orderly went to work, and 
was a very satisfactory boy, quite taciturn, saying nothing, but keeping 
busy all the time, and I formed a good opinion of him, and so did those 
around me. He never said anything, however, to me, and was very silent, 
and lonesome. One day when there was quite a congregation of pilgrims 
going down the road he came to me and told me that he could trade my 
sorrel horse for a mighty good Indian pony, provided I could pay a little 
to boot, and I concluded to see what the trade might be. I told him to 
bring the man in, and he came. He was a strange-looking, impudent fellow, 
with a mustache like a cat's. He had about six bristles on each side that 
stuck out straight. He said that he wanted to go back to the "States," and 
he wanted a horse to ride, and he wanted $25 to pay his expenses. He said 
that he had been trading with the Arapahoe Indians, and that the pony 
which he offered to trade to me was the best war pony in the Arapahoe 
nation. He had got the pony, trained it, and it could run well and trot 
well, and could endure any amount of trial and tribulation that might be 
required of it. I took a look at the pony. It was jet black all over, with 
a roached mane. As it compared exactly in color with "Old Bill," I 
concluded to swap horses, and pay the man $25, and he went off on down the 
road.

   At the same time that my orderly was employed, a young man named Pierce 
joined the company. I will speak of him further on. He and my orderly 
seemed to have been sort of chums at the time.

   Concerning the black pony, I may say that it turned out to be one of 
the finest animals I ever saw. It was as fleet as the wind. It could run 
all day, and was the most useful little animal imaginable. It had always 
been a pet, and had a disposition like a Newfoundland dog. I became very 
much attached to it, and it would follow me around, come at call, was very 
bridle-wise, and never got ugly. I may anticipate my story a little bit by 
saying that I kept him until after I got to Fort Leavenworth, and an 
officer of the regular army got attached to him, and persuaded me to let 
him have the pony for $400.

   Returning to my new "orderly," who afterwards turned out pretty bad, as 
we will see, and whose name I will withhold, I found him one day talking 
Sioux to Elston, the guide. I asked Elston if the boy was talking Indian, 
and Elston said, "Yes, and he talks it just like an Injun." I thereupon 
called the boy up, and asked him if he spoke Indian, and he said, yes; and 
I asked him how that came. And he said that when he was a boy between 
eight and nine, his parents, who were from Blandinsville, Illinois, were 
crossing the plains with a party and were murdered. And that he was 
carried off by the Indians and was raised among them, and had been with 
them about ten years. I then asked him how it came that he turned up in 
our camp. And he said that he had got acquainted with the two white women, 
Mrs. Kelly and Mrs. Larimer, who were captured by the Sioux shortly before 
we went up to Fort Laramie, and that one of them had advised him to run 
away and get back to the white people. And that, being out with a party of 
Indians, he had run away from them, and had come into the camp at Laramie, 
and had come down with some people to Julesburg, and was going on, when he 
heard about a place as orderly, with the soldiers, and he thought he would 
be safe, have a better time, and that was how he came with me. His story 
was probably true.

   Upon inquiry be told us all about the two ladies above referred to, and 
about his own wanderings among the Sioux, and he answered questions 
frankly, and to the best of his ability. But the reason that he was so 
taciturn was that he had about forgotten his own language, and could only 
express himself with difficulty, but he picked it up again very rapidly, 
so that by the time he had been with us a few months he had got a good 
deal of it back. The real reason why he had been so taciturn was that he 
couldn't talk. He afterwards had a great deal to say about the Indians, 
and their habits. He had been adopted into the tribe, and had an 
inclination to stay, but one of the ladies referred to had told him that 
he was likely at any time to be killed, and after some reluctance he had 
made up his mind to leave the tribe. He was very tanned and sunburned, and 
in a blanket would have about passed for an Indian in color.

   During December I got a pair of cavalry boots which I ordered from 
Omaha. It shows something in regard to the deterioration of money, and the 
price of things, when I say that those boots cost me $18. In normal times, 
on gold basis, they would have cost $5.

   I also bought from one of the traveling outfits going west a twenty-
pound keg of butter for $20 and a twenty-pound can of lard for $10, the 
prices being $1 and $0.50, respectively, per pound.

   Concerning the relative location of Julesburg, there was some little 
difficulty as to the question whether Julesburg was in Nebraska or 
Colorado. For a while we called it Nebraska, but afterwards we were 
addressed as Julesburg, Colorado, and the post was deemed definitely 
located in Colorado, which was the correct place. But Fort Laramie was 
Idaho Territory. It is now in the eastern part of Wyoming, but that part 
of the country was then called Idaho Territory.



CHAPTER XXX.
BEN HOLLADAY.--COLD GAMBLING.--SUMMARY OF CONDITIONS.--DECEMBER 31, 1864.--
COLONEL CHIVINGTON.--HIS BATTLE WITH CHEYENNES.--P. EDWARD CONNOR.--
TERRITORIAL DIVISIONS.--TROOPS EMPLOYED.--LOCATION OF POSTS.--THE ESCORT 
LINES.

   DURING December, as stated, Ben Holladay went through going west in a 
stage-coach, with a man named Leland, who was a great hotel man in New 
York City. The coach was a sort of Pullman conveyance. They had a mattress 
on the floor of the coach, and they slept in the coach, and when they 
rode, they rode with the driver, and on a seat on the top. They had 
another coach, in which there were servants, a cook, and supplies. Each of 
these coaches was drawn by six horses, and went as fast as the fastest. 
Holladay put in his time as long as he was at the post in receiving and 
sending off dispatches to the Gold Board in New York. They had in New York 
a speculative board which was gambling on the nation's good and bad luck, 
and the price of gold went up and down, governed by every little skirmish 
and battle of the war. It seemed to have had little reference to the 
actual amount of gold on hand. Holladay had a way of gambling on the gold 
market, and when he lost he delivered the actual gold, having a location 
on the Pacific coast in the gold-bearing country. Holladay's son, who went 
along the road shortly afterwards, said that his father, when going from 
the Pacific coast to New York, played the gold markets the whole way, and 
made $40,000 on the trip of about three weeks.

   Taking the end of the year 1864, it is perhaps best for me to state 
what was the actual condition of things at that time. In the first place, 
the Indians between Cottonwood and Fort Kearney had committed 
depredations, the value of which was very great. They had harassed the 
frontiers in Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, and Colorado. As stated, 
there was a squaw camp at Fort Laramie, where a lot of them were being 
fed. In the forts in southeastern Colorado, other Indians were being fed. 
The Arapahoes and Cheyennes, after committing all kinds of depredations, 
had pretended to surrender, and to come in and want peace. At Fort Lyon, 
down on the Arkansas river, the persons surrendered consisted of women and 
children and old men, who brought in a lot of worn-out horses used up in 
the raids of the frontiers; and they brought in some old guns that had 
become unserviceable. The young bucks, however, were on the war-path, and 
from these very Indian refugees at Fort Lyons occasional parties would go 
out, and rob a train and steal a lot of stock. There was no confidence to 
be placed in any of these Indians, They were a bad lot. They all needed 
killing, and the more they were fed and taken care of the worse they 
became. The condition was such in Colorado that a hundred-days regiment 
was raised, called the Third Colorado. The First Colorado, a brave and 
historic regiment, had a Colonel by the name of Chivington, and he had 
been drawn from the war to protect his own State against the ravages of 
these combined Cheyenne and Arapahoe Indians. The Government had sent in, 
as has been stated before, the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry, also our complete 
cavalry regiment of twelve companies, and then had drawn the First 
Nebraska from the front, down South, to help guard Nebraska, and had also 
raised a provisional home battalion to assist in the protection of the 
Nebraska frontier. The Government had deployed other regiments out on the 
Arkansas river, and along the Santa Fë trail, for the purpose of 
protecting that route, over a long strip of country.

   I have stated that some of these Indians went to Denver, and wanted to 
make a treaty of some kind. The Indian idea was to have the Government 
feed the old people, women and children, while the bucks would ravage the 
country. As I have stated, the embassy to Denver was a failure, because 
the Denver people understood the Indian quite fully. After the Denver 
embassy the murdering and plundering along the frontier and line became so 
great that Colonel Chivington made up his mind to take the field, and hunt 
up the Indian villages and punish them. While he was getting ready, the 
refugee Indians who were being fed at Fort Lyons went out and plundered 
some trains and killed some women and children, and carried their scalps 
to the Cheyenne villages up on Sand Creek.

   There came a great fall of snow in the latter part of November, about 
two feet deep, and Colonel Chivington, taking advantage of that fact, and 
knowing that the Indians could not travel in deep snow as the whites 
could, started out, and after a three-days march, day and night, he came 
onto one of the Cheyenne villages, and is reported to have killed about 
five hundred of them, captured a large lot of horses, and scattered the 
band; although he lost nine killed and forty wounded, because the Indians 
put up a pretty good fight. That fight occurred on November 29th, 1864. 
Among the humanitarians of Boston it was called the "Chivington Massacre," 
but there was never anything more deserved than that massacre. The only 
difficulty was that there were about fifteen hundred Indian warriors that 
didn't get killed. But they were scattered over the country, and started 
supposedly east on the Republican and Solomon rivers. They were in this 
scattered condition when the end of the year arrived. Nobody exactly knew 
where they were, but it was said that there were scalp-dances in all of 
the Cheyenne bands, and that scalps were carried up into the Sioux 
villages and into the northern Cheyenne villages for the purpose of making 
medicine, and getting up a war spirit, north of the Platte.

   I will try to give a glance now as to the condition of the commands and 
their situation. At this time the Indian country was in a department which 
had had several names, but which at that time was called the "Department 
of Kansas and the Territories." Major-General Samuel R. Curtis was 
commander at Fort Leavenworth. The District of Nebraska comprised the line 
that went from Omaha to Laramie, and west of Laramie to Great South Pass. 
That was one long line of road, and was the great northern route that was 
to be guarded. This territory was divided into two sub-districts, one 
running from Omaha up to and including Julesburg. That was called the 
eastern sub-district, and was in command of Colonel R. R. Livingston of 
the First Nebraska Cavalry, with headquarters at Fort Kearney. The western 
district began west of Julesburg, with its first post at Mud Springs, and 
extended along the route to South Pass. This western sub-district was 
commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel William O. Collins, of the Eleventh Ohio, 
of whom I have spoken. The road from Julesburg to Denver was the northern 
district of Colorado, and was commanded by Colonel J. M. Chivington, of 
the First Colorado. Brigadier-General R. B. Mitchell was in command from 
Omaha through to South Pass, covering the two sub-districts of which I 
have spoken. Brigadier-General P. Edward Connor commanded at Salt Lake 
City. Neither Colonel Chivington nor General Connor was under the command 
of General Mitchell.

   General Connor had the reputation of being the greatest Indian-fighter 
on the continent, and he had been requested to look over the situation by 
General Curtis, commanding the department, and pass his opinion as to what 
ought to be done with the Cheyennes and Arapahoes, and how best to do it. 
General Connor passed on down the road, it was stated, along in December, 
past our fort, incognito. 

   In my memorandum I have the following as being the companies and posts 
of each of these districts and subdistricts as they existed on the 31st of 
December, 1864, as shown by the general orders of that period.

   On December 31, 1864, the organization of troops was as follows:

DEPARTMENT OF KANSAS.

Commanded by Major-General Samuel R. Curtis.
Headquarters at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.

   The Department was composed of the following districts:

District of South Kansas, Headquarters at Paola, Kansas.
District of North Kansas, Headquarters at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.
District of the Upper Arkansas, Headquarters at Fort Riley, Kansas.
District of Nebraska, Headquarters at Omaha, Nebraska.
District of Colorado, Headquarters at Denver, Colorado.
The District of South Kansas was commanded by Major-General James G. 
Blunt, with 42 officers and 998 men.
The District of North Kansas was commanded by Brigadier-General Thomas A. 
Davies, with 30 officers and 530 men.
The District of the Upper Arkansas was commanded by Colonel James H. Ford, 
with 24 officers and 803 men.
The District of Nebraska was commanded by Brigadier-General Robert B. 
Mitchell, with 54 officers and 1,201 men.
The District of Colorado was commanded by Colonel John M. Chivington, with 
19 officers and 297 men.

   The foregoing does not represent the total number of each command, but 
represents the number present, able for duty, and in the saddle on 
December 31, 1864. Of course there were many not "in the saddle."

   The District of Nebraska was divided as follows:

East Sub-District, commanded by Colonel Robert R. Livingston. 
Headquarters, Fort Kearney, Nebraska.

In this sub-district were the following posts and garrisons:
Fort Kearney: Five companies 1st Nebraska Cavalry.
Plum Creek: Three companies 1st Nebraska Cavalry.
Cottonwood Springs: Two companies 7th Iowa Cavalry and one company 1st 
Nebraska Cavalry.
Columbus: One company 7th Iowa Cavalry.
Little Blue Station: One company 1st Nebraska Militia.
Mullala Station: One company 1st Nebraska Cavalry.
Dan Smith's Ranch: One company 7th Iowa Cavalry.
Gilman's Station: One company 1st Nebraska Cavalry.
O'Fallon's Bluffs: One company 7th Iowa Cavalry.
Alkali Station: One company 7th Iowa Cavalry.
Beauvais Station: One company 1st Nebraska Cavalry.
Julesburg: One company 7th Iowa Cavalry.

West sub-district, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel William O. Collins, 
with headquarters at Fort Laramie, Idaho Territory.
In this sub-district were the following posts and garrisons:
Fort Laramie: Four companies 11th Ohio Cavalry; one company 7th Iowa 
Cavalry.
Camp Collins: Two companies 11th Ohio Cavalry.
Fremont's Orchard: One company 11th Ohio Cavalry.
Fort Halleck: One company 11th Ohio Cavalry.
Camp Marshall: One company 11th Ohio Cavalry.
Camp Mitchell: One company 11th Ohio Cavalry.
Platte Bridge: One company 11th Ohio Cavalry.

   In the District of Colorado there were the following posts and 
garrisons:

Denver; One company 1st Colorado Cavalry; one company 3rd Colorado Cavalry.
Camp Fillmore: One company 1st Colorado Cavalry.
Fort Garland; One company 1st Colorado Cavalry.
Junction Station: One company 3rd Colorado Cavalry.
Valley Station: One company 3rd Colorado Cavalry.

   In the District of the Upper Arkansas were the following posts and 
garrisons:

Fort Riley: Eight companies 2nd Colorado Cavalry; one section 9th 
Wisconsin Battery.
Fort Lyon: Eight companies 1st Colorado Cavalry; one company 1st New 
Mexico Cavalry.
Fort Larned; At post and en route -- Two companies 2nd Colorado Cavalry; 
one company 12th Kansas Cavalry; one company 11th Kansas Cavalry; one 
section 9th Wisconsin Battery.
Fort Zarah; One company 3rd Wisconsin Cavalry.
Fort Ellsworth: One company 7th Iowa Cavalry.
Salina: One company 7th Iowa Cavalry.

   The foregoing applies only to our theatre of war. There were nine posts 
in Dakota Territory, garrisoned by 22 companies of Cavalry and two of 
Infantry. There were four frontier posts of Iowa, garrisoned by six 
companies of Cavalry; also six posts in Minnesota, garrisoned by 13 
companies of Cavalry and three companies of Infantry. All of this in 
excess of the Artillery, which was stationed at some of the posts, 
amounting in the aggregate to 26 guns.

   The soldiers engaged were all or parts of the following regiments:

1st Colorado Cavalry.
2nd Colorado Cavalry.
3rd Colorado Cavalry.
6th Iowa Cavalry.
7th Iowa Cavalry.
1st Nebraska Cavalry.
1st Nebraska Militia.
11th Ohio Cavalry.
5th Kansas Cavalry.
11th Kansas Cavalry.
12th Kansas Cavalry.
15th Kansas Cavalry.
16th Kansas Cavalry.
1st New Mexico Cavalry.
3rd Wisconsin Cavalry.
1st Dakota Cavalry.
2nd Minnesota Cavalry.
Two Battalions Minnesota Cavalry Volunteers.
1st Connecticut Cavalry.
30th Wisconsin Infantry.
1st United States Volunteers.
9th Wisconsin Battery.
McClain's Colorado Battery.
3rd Minnesota Battery.  

   These desultory facts may not be interesting, but are inserted here as 
due to history.

   The road from Omaha to South Pass was guarded by the First Nebraska 
Cavalry, the Seventh Iowa Cavalry, and the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry -- being 
three regiments of cavalry with about twelve pieces of artillery strung 
along the road. The road from Julesburg to Denver was under the command of 
Colonel Chivington, and was guarded and patrolled by the First and Third 
Colorado Cavalry, but principally by the Third Colorado under charge of 
Major Samuel A Logan, who occasionally visited us at Julesburg. Yet we, on 
occasions, sent escorts up as far as Pawnee, over 30 miles west, on the 
Denver road; northwest to Camp Mitchell near Scott's Bluffs, 117 miles; 
and east to O'Fallon's Bluffs, 50 miles. Our company had the hardest work 
to do of any company in or on the line, and suffered more in losses than 
any other company, both in killed and wounded and in accident. Our escort 
line was about 150 miles long.