CHAPTER XXIV.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

"We start for home to-morrow morning," were the gladsome words passed

around the camp-fire on the evening of the 22d of October. The nights

were getting chilly, and the shortening days indicated that the autumn

was fast passing away, and that warmer quarters than our tents would

soon be an absolute necessity. The contemplation of the homeward march

was a pleasure, for there were ties of friendship there that forbade

procrastination. A sad thought came over us as we remembered the poor

fellows who had given up their lives--their waiting ones at home would

wait in vain.

[Illustration: "Reveille."]

Reveille sounded early one morning, and after a hurried breakfast of

coffee and hard tack, the headquarters bugle sounded "strike tents," and

the city of canvas was soon razed to the ground. With the captives and

prisoners we took up our line of march for Yellow Medicine, where the

commission appointed by the General tried and condemned 305 Indians to

hang.

The morning we left Camp Release the sun shone brightly, the sky was

clear, but there was frost in the air; and, as we were on very short

rations and only one blanket each, we were in high glee as we marched out

to the music of the band. I think our steps were more than the regulation

twenty-eight inches, for we were headed towards God's country--home.

About four p. m. the fierce fall wind veered around in our faces, and

coming as it did off the burnt prairie, our faces soon presented the

appearance of men from the interior of Africa. We were black in the

face. At five o'clock we went into camp. It was pitch dark, with the

wind blowing a hurricane, and in the darkness, infantry, cavalry, and

artillery were one interminable mass of troops and order was impossible.

So the orders were: "By company, left wheel, halt;" "stack arms;" "break

ranks," with orders to pitch tents and get under cover. To make fires and

cook supper was impossible, so we supped on raw salt pork, hard tack,

and cold water. The Sibley tents blew down as fast as put up, and in

this condition we crawled under them to get the best protection possible

from the fierce northern blast. Some of the men had found potato cellars

that had been dug in the hillside by the Indians, and taking possession

of them were thus afforded good, warm quarters and plenty of potatoes to

eat. In this respect they were much more fortunate than the rest of us

who were on the outside and had all we could do to keep from freezing to

death. The storm abated somewhat by morning, so we could make our fires,

which we did, and availed ourselves of the Indian potatoes, and with salt

pork, hard tack and coffee made a hearty breakfast and were soon on the

march again.

The exposure of that night gave many of us the rheumatism, and it took

several hours' march to get ourselves limbered up, but the day was bright

and we were homeward bound. We made a good day's march, and pitched our

tents in the valley of the Red Wood.

The Indian camp, consisting principally of women and children, had

been previously removed to this place from Yellow Medicine, where the

quartermaster had erected a large board prison to hold the captive red

men, who had all been condemned by the Commission. The papers had been

sent on to President Lincoln for his final decision, and we were here

awaiting developments.

The condemned Indians were sent under strong guard to Camp Sibley, on the

banks of the Red Wood River. They were chained together and kept in a

structure built for the purpose, and their squaws, who were camped on the

outside, were allowed to cook for them under the supervision of a guard,

to prevent them from smuggling knives or a weapon of any kind on the

inside of the enclosure.

[Illustration: CAMP LINCOLN.]

After a week or ten days we again took up the line of march to a

destination known only to the General and his Staff, but which proved

to be that the Seventh Minnesota, under Colonel William R. Marshall,

should proceed with the prisoners to Mankato, and the Sixth Minnesota,

under Colonel Crooks, should report at Fort Snelling for further orders.

The two regiments marched together until we reached a point some way

below New Ulm. Nothing of importance took place until we reached this

place. The General having heard that the citizens had determined to kill

every redskin regardless of consequences if they could possibly get

hold of them, took precaution against it. It was said that every house

was supplied with hot water, hot soft soap and anything and everything

that ingenuity could invent to inflict sudden and sure punishment, and

death if possible, to those that had brought such woe to them. For this

reason the General changed his course somewhat, and making a detour to

the right, escaped the necessity or perhaps bloodshed, in trying to save

his captives from the hands of this justly furious people. Men and women

turned out en masse and hurling imprecations, flourishing butcher knives,

table knives, and even scissors, axes, pitchforks--in fact, every sort of

weapon--seemed determined to get at them, and abused soldiers and Indians

alike because they were held at bay. They followed us for two or three

miles before they became convinced that the General was determined at all

hazards to uphold the supremacy of the government in protecting these

blood-stained captives from the furies of a people who had suffered so

much at the hands of some of their tribes in the murder of their innocent

women and children.

At a point below New Ulm the command was divided, a portion taking all

the condemned men to Mankato, and the balance of the command proceeding

to Fort Snelling.

At Mankato, as the days wore away and there was some doubt as to what the

final decision of President Lincoln would be, great fear was entertained

that there would be a general uprising of the people, and an attempt

made to override military and civil law by wresting the Indians from

the soldiers and instituting a general massacre of them, irrespective of

their guilt or innocence, but Colonel Stephen Miller, the post commander,

having determined that law and not lawlessness should prevail, used the

utmost vigilance to defeat any such undertaking.

A Thrilling Narrative of the Minnesota Massacre and the Sioux War of 1862-63 Graphic Accounts of the Siege of Fort Ridgely, Battles of Birch Coolie, Wood Lake, Big Mound, Stony Lake, Dead Buffalo Lake and Missouri River · 第 24 / 44 章