Sheridan's Arrival; Kansas Volunteers' Disasterous March; Sheridan's
Activity; Custer's Engagement With the Indians, Etc.
About this time General Phil. H. Sheridan made his appearance in the
Indian country, bringing some additional soldiers under the command of
General Custer. He also asked for a regiment of Kansas volunteers. His
request was granted and the recruits were placed under the command of
Colonel Crawford with orders to meet General Sheridan at the junction of
Wolf and Beaver Creeks, or what is now known as Camp Supply.
When the regiment had been enrolled and the men were ready and anxious to
make the journey, General Sheridan, in order to facilitate matters and
avoid any disappointment, sent two guides to pilot the new recruits to
their destination. It was now getting late in the year and each day
brought its quota of snow, rain, or sleet, but in spite of such
unfavorable conditions, the boys made no complaint, but rode patiently
along their tedious journey. After they had been out a few days the
colonel seemed to grow impatient and irritable, and began to dictate to
the guides and volunteered his advice as to the direction they should
pursue. He wanted to turn to the left and cross the Cimmaron River and
insisted on his idea to such a degree that the guides, or scouts, withdrew
their services then and there and left him to select when and where he
would elect to ford the river. The weather being stormy the Colonel lost
his way and through his impatience finally lost his head and did not know
where he was. The brakes and canyons on the north side of the river were
filled with snow that had drifted in from the prairie. In his desperation
he started to cross the stream and spent several days floundering around
through the snowbanks and drifts. After he succeeded in crossing the river
he found it as hard to get out of the difficulty as it was to get into it.
To add to his misfortune, he had neglected to bring along sufficient food
for horses or men. However, he succeeded in getting out and up on the
flats south of the river at the expense of a great number of horses, but
was fortunate enough not to lose a single man. The situation was not
improved in any measure as he did not know where he was. He continued
southward until he reached the North Canadian River. Here his remaining
horses kept themselves alive by browsing in the timber while the men were
compelled to live on what hackberries they could find.
As Colonel Crawford did not arrive at the expected time, nor for several
days afterward, General Sheridan became anxious for his safety and sent
out scouts to see if any trace of him could be found. With much risk and
effort they found the colonel and what was left of his cavalry about
twenty miles below the designated place of meeting. To say they were in a
deplorable condition, would be putting it mildly. The moment General
Sheridan received word of the disaster that had befallen Colonel
Crawford's command, he sent out men and teams to their relief with
instructions to bring them into camp. The relief party did not arrive any
too soon as the men and horses were in a very sorry plight, owing to their
lack of nourishing food. One thing alone was in their favor in their
present deplorable condition and that was the abundant supply of dead
timber at hand which afforded them an opportunity to keep warm, or rather
keep from freezing, a thing which was entirely lacking on the Cimmaron. I
may as well say that they were all afoot by this time, as the horses that
were still alive, were reduced to such a state of weakness that they were
unable to carry their riders. It took two days to get them into camp,
owing to their enfeebled condition. General Sheridan's headquarters was
then located on the north bank of the North Canadian river about four or
five miles south east of where the present city of Woodward, Okla., is
situated. On the departure of the command from Topeka the newspapers in
flaming headlines announced the affair to the world, but their great
expectations were converted into "Crawford's Calamity."
In the face of all this vexatious delay, awaiting re-enforcements from
Colonel Crawford, General Sheridan did not relax his energy in the least.
He kept everybody at work fixing up a base of supplies that would be in
his reach until the termination of that campaign which he intended to
settle during the winter months whilst the Indian ponies were poor and
weak and unable to transport belongings any distance. He also knew that if
he delayed matters until warm weather when there would be plenty of grass,
he would have to fight those Indians from the British possessions to
Texas. He was down there to fight those Indians or make them return to
their reservations to remain there and behave themselves and stop prowling
all over the country committing depredations. He had no time to engage in
peace treaties and had no guns to turn over to them, and there was no
chance for any trickery or treachery with him. He did not want to smoke
the pipe of peace with them and then be shot in the back and killed as
Turkey Legs and his band did with his scouts Comstock and Glover. He was
there for permanent peace or a permanent fight and the choice rested with
them. There was no swapping of horses or palavering. He meant business.
By this time General Sheridan's headquarters very much resembled a
Canadian North-west logging camp. Everybody was kept busy, some hauling
logs, others digging trenches for the stockades, others were bringing
poles and brush to cover rude pole sheds for the purpose of affording a
temporary shelter for the stock. If there was anybody idle, it was some
one who was too ill to work, or who had hidden in the brush to avoid work.
The scouts were kept busy scouring the country in search of some trail or
sign of the Indians and finally were rewarded by the discovery of a trail
leading southward, which showed a large body of Indians had gone in that
direction. On receiving that information General Custer asked permission
from General Sheridan to fit out an expedition to follow them. The request
was readily granted by General Sheridan, as he was anxious to bring the
campaign to a close as speedily as possible. As soon as Custer had his
troops in proper shape he set out in the direction indicated by the
scouts. After crossing Wolf Creek and getting well up on the divide he
discovered the trail, but found it very difficult to follow owing to the
snow having drifted and covered any marks they had left behind them.
Occasionally, where the wind had blown the snow from some high place he
found all evidence required to justify him in keeping up the pursuit. He
maintained his route until he reached the north brakes of the South
Canadian and went into camp for the night in the least protected place he
could find and made things as comfortable as circumstances would permit.
Next morning after taking a survey of the situation he found himself
confronted with a great and dangerous undertaking through having to ford
the river. As every man who has ever crossed it with a loaded wagon knows,
it is one of the most treacherous streams to ford, in the Southwest; and
to add to the miry condition of the river it was frozen over, but the ice
was not of sufficient thickness to bear the weight of the horses, much
less the heavy wagons that were to follow them. General Custer, a
persevering and an energetic man, was not daunted by this present
difficulty. He sloped down the bank of the river and set his men to work
cutting a channel across and clearing the ice from it, so that it would
not cut or injure the stock in crossing. After passing the cavalry back
and forth several times to settle the quicksand, he sent forward the
freight and supply wagons and with great difficulty succeeded in landing
on the south side. Here he stopped for dinner as it was after twelve
o'clock when the last wagon passed up the bank. After dinner they hooked
up and started on their perilous under taking of climbing and winding
their dangerous way through the canyons and sand hills until they reached
the flats that divide the South Canadian and Washita Rivers. The distance
traveled that afternoon was not very great but the difficulties and
obstacles to be overcome were very trying. The general decided to have an
early supper and after a consultation with his officers determined to make
a night drive as the moon shone brightly and the trail was now becoming so
plain that the scouts felt there would be no difficulty in following it.
Accordingly they hitched up after their slight rest and set out under the
leadership of two Osage Indian scouts together with California Joe, a
white man who had been on the frontier all his life and who understood the
language of the different tribes. Custer had learned from his scouts that
it was the intention of the Indians to go into winter quarters on the
Washita, but was not certain of the exact locality. Consequently he had to
use great caution in trying to discover their where abouts. He found some
smouldering campfires, which showed that they were not very far in
advance. The scouts did not proceed very much farther until one of them on
looking over a bluff discovered the main camp and then hastened back and
made the fact known to the general. Custer then and there stopped the
outfit and went into consultation with his officers. It was now past
twelve o'clock and he decided to make no attack until after daybreak. He
arranged to divide his force into four different sections, each squad to
be under the command of an officer, and at daylight, at the sound of the
bugle, they were to make a charge. All was carried out as planned, with
the precision of clockwork. At dawn the bugle sounded and the band struck
up the tune of "Garry Owen" and the troops dashed in on the gallop. When
they reached the camp from the different directions, the battle began. At
the first volley fired, the Indians tried to escape, and some of them,
succeeded in getting away, but the most of them, were shot down, either in
their teepees, or as they were fleeing to some place of safety; others
dropped behind trees or logs and fought like demons, but it was useless as
they were overmatched. When the smoke of battle cleared away there were
over one hundred dead Indians lying on the camp ground.
It was General Sherman, I believe, who said "war is hell," a statement
which, proved to be absolutely correct in this instance for the wailing of
the squaws and the screaming of the papooses together with the groans of
the dying made a wierd accompaniment to the cracking of rifles and the
commands of the officers. After the flurry of the battle had somewhat
subsided, Custer ordered all that were alive, squaws and papooses, to be
taken prisoners and put in charge of a squad of soldiers, whilst the
remainder busied themselves burning the teepees, provisions, and other
camp equipage found there. When the work of destruction was completed he
ordered all their ponies, about two hundred in number, to be brought in
and shot. To the reader this may appear cruel and inhuman, but it was only
a just retribution for the deeds this same band had committed on the
Saline and Solomon Rivers in Kansas, where they spared neither age nor
sex, but perpetrated outrages on women that are too beastly for
publication, and this was a small installment on what was due them. On
roll call it was found that Major Elliot and fifteen men were missing.
The Kiowas and the Comanche tribes were camped but three or four miles
below where the battle took place, and it did not take them very long to
make their appearance about five or six thousand strong. Here was a fresh
problem for Custer to solve. If he was looking for a fight with the
Indians, they were at hand. Why did he not attack them? Why did they not
attack him? Why did not Custer make an effort to find out what had become
of Major Elliot and the fifteen missing men who had been with him. I shall
explain that as I see it from my point of view. There is no doubt in my
mind that General Custer was afraid to attack those two tribes, and was
also afraid to make an attempt to find Major Elliot and his companions, as
his conduct that evening abundantly proves. He had sent his scout,
California Joe, with a dispatch telling Sheridan of his condition and
asking him to send re-enforcements at once. That afternoon he held a
consultation with his officers and decided to return to Camp Supply to
reorganize his men and get more forces to engage in battle with those two
tribes. Now the question might be asked, why did not the Indians attack
him? There was but one reason and that was that they were afraid. They had
force enough to defeat Custer, but there was something else to take into
consideration. They knew General Sheridan was someplace in the country and
was, perhaps, at that time waiting to catch them in a trap. They were not
afraid of Custer and his command, but they knew that if Sheridan ever got
them in a tight place, it would be good-bye, Mr. Indian, for there would
be nothing left of him. It was a plain case of where Custer was afraid and
the other 'dassent,' it averted, as a result, one of the worst slaughters
that ever occured in the Indian Territory.
In looking over the dead, Chief Black Kettle was identified. He had been
instrumental in starting out the band that had committed all the
depredations in the Saline and Solomon valleys, and but a few months prior
to this time had defiantly refused, when asked by General Sheridan to come
into Fort Dodge with the promise that he would be properly cared for. He
declared that he was going on the warpath and made good his declaration as
the battle on the Washita will show.