occupied the wild country. After the establishment of the posts the
Indians immediately began to annoy and harass them, and finally after
they had assaulted the forts several times, the largest, Phil. Kearny,
was unsuccessfully attacked, and a detachment of over one hundred men
under Captain Fetterman was sent out by Colonel Carrington to attack
the Indians, who, after their manner ambushed and surrounded them, and
killed all the officers and men before any rescue could be made from
the post.
Finally the Government became alarmed and withdrew the soldiers from
these posts so suddenly that they were unable to take with them the
valuable stores, munitions, furniture and supplies, leaving everything
to be destroyed by the Indians. I was one of the captains of that
regiment.
The Indians then demanded that all the troops be permanently withdrawn
from their country, and a Commission was organized consisting of
Generals Harney, Sherman, Terry and others, they formulating a treaty
in 1868 by which they gave the Sioux in perpetuity all these lands,
and agreed that they would never be dispossessed without the agreement
of three-fourths of the Indians.
Time passed on. I was transferred to the cavalry, and strangely enough
in 1872, I was ordered back to the command of North Platte Station, a
sub-post of Fort McPherson, where my regiment, under Carrington, was
in '65.
The Union Pacific Railroad had then been completed, though the Indians
and buffalo were making their annual pilgrimage across the road as
before, to the north in the summer, and the south in the winter,
accompanied by the nine confederated tribes of the Sioux--Brulés,
Ogallalas, Minneconjous, Uncapapas, Two Kettle, San Arcs, Lower
Brulés, Yanktons and Gantees, associated with them were also the
Northern Cheyennes and Northern Arapahoes.
As the Indians were entirely dependent upon the buffalo for
subsistence, the buffalo became the controlling factor in the change
that then took place, by refusing to no longer cross the road, and the
buffalo took up their permanent abode north of the Platte River, the
last of the buffalo passing in 1874.
There were different ideas as to what impelled the buffalo to come
to this conclusion, but most probably the smoke and noise, and the
terrible appearance of the engine, resembling huge monster animals,
prevented the buffalo from attempting to cross, and consequently they
never returned south after their northern trip in '74. The Indians, of
course, for obvious reasons, following permanently.
There can be no reasonable doubt but that the forebears of these
Indians and these buffalo were the companions of Coronado in his
wonderful exploration (for that day), from the Pecos to the Platte
(over four hundred years ago) at the great forks near the present city
of North Platte and these Indians were the adversaries we were to meet
at Rosebud.
Here at North Platte, while the buffalo were hesitating to go north
permanently, I often met and became well acquainted with Spotted Tail,
Chief of the Brulés, the greatest and best chief I ever knew.
Spotted Tail, with a great portion of his Ogallalas, remained around
North Platte until some time in 1873, when his agency was established
on the headwaters of the White River, on a branch called Bear Creek,
near the boundary between Nebraska and Dakota. Here he assembled all
his tribe, some four thousand.
In the winter of 1874-5 General Crook directed me to follow Spotted
Tail and build at his agency a five-company post, to be called
Camp Sheridan (three cavalry and two infantry companies), in which
Lieutenant Lemly assisted.
Like Carrington, we were furnished with everything necessary: soldier
labor, saw, shingle and lath mills, hardware and some thirty skilled
artisans, and as we were in a pine forest, many trees were felled, and
the lumber from them placed in the building on the same day. There
were no contracts, no delays in construction, and it was probably the
cheapest, most satisfactory, and most rapidly constructed post ever
built by the Army.
Shortly after this Lieutenant Colonel Custer, with an expedition
including engineers, mining experts, and geologists, had been ordered
to make an exploration of the Black Hills. Custer returned, reporting
gold in the hills, which excited the western people so they began to
move in from all directions.
This again aroused the Indians, and it became apparent that there
would be trouble. General Sheridan issued orders to myself and
adjacent commanders to prevent the whites from violating the Indian
non-intercourse law by arresting and destroying outfits for that
purpose.
I, together with a co-operative detachment from Fort Randall,
commanded by Captain Fergus Walker, on May 21st, destroyed by fire a
wagon train with mining equipment destined for the Black Hills, under
the command of one Major Gordon, at a point now known as Gordon City,
returning the party, which numbered about seventy-five people, to Fort
Randall, confining Gordon at Camp Sheridan.
The Indians at my agency, and I presume at the others, were constantly
forming war parties to go out against these trespassing miners, and
Spotted Tail, realizing the critical status, made a confidant of me,
and frequently reported as near as he could the probable time and
number of warriors that were leaving his agency, suggesting that I
intercept them by sending out soldiers to head them off, which I often
did.
As they were acting in violation of his orders, it was difficult for
him and the other Sioux chiefs to know where they went, and for what
purpose, but he did his very best to suppress the insurrection which
was then before him.
The War Department has kindly furnished us with two large photographic
maps, to which I call your attention. The first represents a portion
of the States of Colorado and Nebraska, and the Territories of
Wyoming, Dakota and Montana. On this map I have indicated Carrington's
route from Kearny to C. F. Smith in green ink, and underscored Forts
McPherson, Laramie, Fetterman, Reno, Phil. Kearny and C. F. Smith,
the last four being built by Carrington. I have also indicated in red
squares the seven principal engagements during the Sioux war, Powder
River, Little Big Horn, Tongue River, Rosebud, Slim Buttes, McKenzie's
Fight, and later Miles' Battle of Wolfe Mountain. The Camp on Goose
Creek is marked with a red circle.
[Illustration: 10-0 50 100 150 200 250
APPROXIMATE SCALE OF MILES]
The other map covers the Rosebud battle-field, enlarged from one in
_Cyrus Townsend Brady's_ book. In my further remarks I will refer to
those maps by names and letters.
The roving bands of Indians from the nine Sioux agencies continued
their resentful depredations during the fall of '75, and finally a
hostile party attacked Fort Fred Steele in considerable numbers,
entering the parade ground and killing five or six soldiers right in
the presence of the officers and men of the command. About the same
time a similar attack was made on Fort Fetterman, and the Indians
pinned one of the soldiers they had killed to the ground with sticks
in sight of the troops.
In March of '76 the War Department ordered General Crook to send
a force from Fort Fetterman to chastise any of these roving bands
wherever found. General Crook commanded this expedition which left
Fort Fetterman, and proceeded by the Carrington route to the Tongue
River, then down the Tongue River, crossing over and attacking a large
force of Indians at Powder River. Through some misunderstanding it did
not turn out very favorably, and it was considered advisable for the
troops to return to the vicinity of Fort Fetterman.
The War Department and the Interior Department then concluded to make
general war on these hostile Indians in the field, and General Terry
and General Crook were directed to organize armies, the former at the
mouth of Powder River, and the latter at Fort Fetterman.
The aggregate number of the nine Sioux agencies was supposed to be
about sixty to sixty-five thousand souls, the Minneconjous being the
greatest in number, and the most hostile, but it was not known by any
one how many Indians had left each of the agencies, or where they had
gone; however, it was supposed that they would follow the buffalo
wherever they might be, so Terry was to assail them from the north and
Crook from the south.
Crook had to do everything hastily, and a more incongruous army could
hardly be conceived of; packers, guides, teamsters, and camp followers
of all kinds, were assembled together with regular troops from
different parts of the country.
Finally we started from Fort Fetterman on May 29th, with twenty
companies of regular troops, fifteen of cavalry and five of infantry,
amounting to over one thousand soldiers. We followed Carrington's
route but before we reached Fort Reno, communication with our base
was forbidden because of the danger from the surrounding hostile
Indians, and we could neither receive supplies nor return our sick and
disabled.
It might add a little spice to my story to relate some of the humorous
incidents that occurred on this very somber and serious expedition.
In organizing the wagon train at Fort Fetterman, the wagon-master had
unintentionally employed a female teamster, but she was not discovered
until we neared Fort Reno, when she was suddenly arrested, and placed
in improvised female attire under guard. I knew nothing of this, but
being the senior Captain of Cavalry, having served as a Captain for
sixteen years, and being of an inquisitive turn of mind, I had become
somewhat notorious (for better or worse).
The day she was discovered and placed under guard, unconscious of the
fact, I was going through the wagon-master's outfit when she sprang
up, calling out "There is Colonel Mills, he knows me," when everybody
began to laugh, much to my astonishment and chagrin, being married.
It was not many hours until every man in the camp knew of the
professed familiarity of "Calamity Jane" (as she was known) with me,
and for several days my particular friends pulled me aside, and asked
me "who is 'Calamity Jane'?" I, of course, denied any knowledge of her
or her calling, but no one believed me then, and I doubt very much
whether they all do yet.
We carried her along until a force was organized to carry our helpless
back, with which she was sent, but she afterwards turned out to be a
national character, and was a woman of no mean ability and force even
from the standard of men. I learned later that she had been a resident
of North Platte, and that she knew many of my soldiers, some of whom
had probably betrayed her. Later she had employed herself as a cook
for my next-door neighbor, Lieutenant Johnson, and had seen me often
in his house, I presume.
When we arrived at Fort Phil. Kearny the whole command went into
camp near that ruined post on the headwaters of Goose Creek, between
its two forks, almost under the shadow of Cloud Peak of the Big Horn
Mountains, where General Crook had made arrangements to meet 250
friendly Indians, Shoshones, Crows and Snakes.
The wagons, supplies, and animals were parked for defense by the
teamsters and civilian employees and we made ready to proceed against
the Sioux as soon as joined by the Indians.
The friendly Indians having arrived on the morning of June 16th, we
started out to find the Sioux. I did not think that General Crook knew
where they were, and I did not think our friendly Indians knew where
they were, and no one conceived we would find them in the great force
we did.
General Crook ordered his classmate, Major Chambers, to select from
the one thousand mules a sufficient number on which to mount his
infantry soldiers. Chambers and his officers protested, but Crook was
obdurate and compelled him to do so suddenly but very reluctantly.
Captain Stanton was our engineer officer, and in order to make good in
his scientific profession, equipped himself with a two-wheeled gig,
drawn by a mule, which he ornamented with odometers, thermometers,
barometers, and other ometers, not forgetting some creature comforts,
visible to the men as they passed and repassed. The road was extremely
rough even for the cavalry, there being no trail, and as the soldiers
were required to carry, each one on his person, four days' simple
rations, the sight of his wheeled conveyance aroused their jealousy
and envy, and whenever he appeared they would cry out, "Mother's Pies,
Mother's Cakes," etc., making life a burden to him. After he had
progressed a few miles the gig broke down and he reluctantly abandoned
it, where I presume it lies today (but for illness he would be here),
and I have promised to explain that he did not ride the gig, but a
horse.
We marched thirty-five miles the first day until we came to a lake
or swamp of about five hundred yards diameter, the headwaters of the
Rosebud, which I have marked on the small map. We left Chambers'
command several miles in the rear, and when we had bivouacked our camp
on three sides of the lake, leaving the fourth side of the rectangle
for Chambers when he arrived, the officers and many of the men walked
over to observe the military movements of the "mule brigade," as it
was called.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF THE
ROSEBUD
DRAWN FROM A SKETCH BY THE AUTHOR, MADE FROM NOTES AND
DESCRIPTIONS FURNISHED BY GENERAL MILLS.
CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, AUTHOR.]
Chambers was proud and ambitious to do his duty, however humiliating
and disagreeable, as well as he could, so when the leading company
came near the line designated, he gave the command, "Left front into
line" in military style, and the first company came into line, but
no sooner had the mules halted when, after their custom, they began
to bray as loud as they could, making extra effort in accord with the
extra effort they had made to carry their strange burden into camp.
The cavalry officers began to laugh and roar. As the other companies
began to halt, Chambers lost courage and with oaths and every evidence
of anger, threw his sword down on the ground and left the command to
take care of itself as best it could.
We remained there that night. There were no buffalo, and we could not
learn anything from the friendlies about the enemy. The next morning,
the 17th, at sunrise we started on our march down the Rosebud, without
any indication of danger. General Crook had previously to do only with
the semi-nomadic tribes, and from conversations with him I felt he did
not realize the prowess of the Sioux, though it was hard to think that
he was not well informed by his numerous guides, scouts and especially
the 250 friendly Indians.
About 9.30 or 10 o'clock, General Crook being with Captain Henry's
squadron marked "C" on the left bank, signalled a halt. Van Vliet's
squadron "D" was in the rear of Henry, and Chambers' battalion marked
"E" was in the rear of Van Vliet, and the packers were in the rear of
Chambers. My squadron of four troops of the Third was in the advance
on the right bank marked "A," followed by Captain Noyes with five
companies of the Second marked "B." Everything was quiet, the day was
beautiful, clear and very warm. All had unbridled and were grazing for
perhaps half to three-quarters of an hour, when my colored servant
observed he heard shouting, and knowing that his ears were better than
mine, I advanced up the hill towards "D" until I got to a high piece
of ground, when, looking north, I saw on the crest of the horizon
about two miles distant, great numbers of moving objects, looking
somewhat like distant crows silhouetted on the clear sky above the
horizon. I soon came to the conclusion that they were Indians in great
numbers.
The friendly Indians were supposed to be in advance to find the enemy
for us. General Crook and the troops on the left bank of the river
were prevented from seeing anything to the north by the rising bluffs
between them and the approaching Indians. I am satisfied that I was
the first person to observe the coming hostiles.
They were, when I first saw them, from two to three miles distant,
coming at full speed towards us and cheering. I immediately sounded
the alarm, directing some of my squadron to mount, and calling out to
General Crook, who was playing cards with some of his officers, that
the Sioux were rapidly approaching.
He ordered me to report to him with my squadron at once. When I met
him after crossing the stream, which was very boggy, I told him we
were about to be attacked by a large force, and that the Indians were
coming from due north. He told me to march rapidly and as soon as I
got to higher ground to take the bluffs and hold them. I did so. What
orders he gave to others I have never known. There are members of
the Third Cavalry here, and they would probably correct me if I made
mistakes. In all of this fight I do not remember to have received a
single order except from General Crook personally or his Adjutant,
Major Nickerson.
I marched as rapidly as I could through the rough and broken rocks,
and as soon as I got on smoother ground gave the command "front into
line," and sounded the charge.
There were two prominent rocky ridges, the first about a half mile
from where I met General Crook, and the second probably about a half
mile further on. When I reached the first ridge the leading Indians
were there but gave way. There were large boulders at its foot,
some large enough to cover the sets of four horses. I dismounted
and directed the horse holders to protect them behind these rocks,
advancing the men to the top of the ridge where the boulders were
smaller, but of a size to protect one or two soldiers, and appeared
to be just what we wanted to fight behind. We met the Indians at the
foot of this ridge, and charged right in and through them, driving
them back to the top of the ridge. These Indians were most hideous,
every one being painted in most hideous colors and designs, stark
naked, except their moccasins, breech clouts and head gear, the latter
consisting of feathers and horns; some of the horses being also
painted, and the Indians proved then and there that they were the best
cavalry soldiers on earth. In charging up towards us they exposed
little of their person, hanging on with one arm around the neck and
one leg over the horse, firing and lancing from underneath the horses'
necks, so that there was no part of the Indian at which we could aim.
Their shouting and personal appearance was so hideous that it
terrified the horses more than our men and rendered them almost
uncontrollable before we dismounted and placed them behind the rocks.
The Indians came not in a line but in flocks or herds like the
buffalo, and they piled in upon us until I think there must have been
one thousand or fifteen hundred in our immediate front, but they
refused to fight when they found us secured behind the rocks, and bore
off to our left. I then charged the second ridge, and took it in the
same manner and fortified myself with the horses protected behind the
larger boulders and the men behind the smaller ones.
These Indians lived with their horses, were unsurfeited with food,
shelter, raiment or equipment, then the best cavalry in the world;
their like will never be seen again. Our friendlies were worthless
against them; we would have been better off without them.
In the second charge my trumpeter, Elmer Snow's horse became
unmanageable, and he could not halt him but continued through the
Indians, receiving a wound shattering the bones of both forearms, but
guiding his horse with legs only he described a circle of several
hundred yards, returning to us and throwing himself on the ground.
On our right we were absolutely protected by the jagged and rough
places down to the Rosebud Canyon, so we were most fortunate in
securing this position.
On examining my front after taking the first ridge, I found that one
of my troops, Captain Andrews, was missing, and learned that Colonel
Royal had cut him off and directed that he report to him, as he was
moving to the left with Captain Henry's squadron. We could see little
of the left, as the ground depressed and the rough rocks obscured
vision of what was going on by either the Indians or Henry's, Van
Vliet's and Royal's commands.
I observed about this time two troops which I afterwards learned
were Van Vliet's, going to "D" on the south bluff and later saw them
proceed in a northwesterly direction towards where we could hear
firing from Henry's and Royal's commands.
Soon after I took the first bluff the infantry took position on my
left and Captain Noyes with his five troops arrived, and was placed in
reserve by General Crook in our rear and left, and the infantry joined
on the ground lying on my left. General Crook held his position near
my squadron between my squadron and Noyes' during the entire battle,
but I had little communication with him save when he came to me to
give orders, and I knew little of what was going on until finally most
of the Indians left my front. About 12.30 he ordered me to take my
command of three troops and ordered Captain Noyes with his five troops
to report to me, and proceed with the eight down the canyon and take
the village, which he said he had been reliably informed was about six
miles down the canyon.
Henry, who was one of the best cavalry officers I ever knew, moved off
as indicated on the map.
This canyon was about six miles long. I was directed to follow it
until I came to the village, and take it, and hold it until he came to
my support with the rest of the command. I obeyed the order until I
reached the vicinity of the village, when I heard a voice calling me
to halt, and Major Nickerson, the Adjutant General, directed me to
return at once to General Crook. Some of the officers advised not. "We
have the village," they said, "and can hold it." Nickerson then came
across the stream. I asked him, "Are you sure he wants me to go back?"
He replied he was.
The canyon had opened here so I found I could climb the rocks and get
out, as indicated on the map.
I returned about 2.30 and found General Crook in about the same
position I had left him, and said, "General, why did you recall me?
I had the village and could have held it." I never saw a man more
dejected. He replied, "Well, Colonel, I found it a more serious
engagement than I thought. We have lost about fifty killed and
wounded, and the doctors refused to remain with the wounded unless I
left the infantry and one of the squadrons with them." He said, "I
knew I could not keep my promise to support you with the remainder of
the force."
The General had assembled the hospital around him and the infantry,
also two battalions near him. In visiting my wounded, Captain Henry
heard my voice and called me. I did not know until then that he had
been wounded, and going to him, found his breast all covered with
clotted blood, his eyes swollen so he could not see, and a ghastly
wound through both cheeks under the eyes. I said, "Henry, are you
badly wounded?" and he replied, "The doctors have just told me that
I must die, but I will not." And he did not, although nine out of
ten under such circumstances would have died. Henry and I were rival
captains in the same regiment, but always friends.
Though the Third Cavalry had less than one-half of the soldiers
engaged, their loss in killed and wounded was about four-fifths,
principally of Henry's and Van Vliet's squadrons and Andrews' company
of mine, that of Vroom's company being the greatest in proportion,
this owing to their isolated exposure on level ground where the
Indians could pass through them.
The officers then mingled and talked over the fight. I learned that
Royal, with Henry's and Van Vliet's squadrons and my troop E had gone
to the extreme left, where the ground was open, and that when the
1,000 or 1,500 Indians had refused to fight in the rocks they had
swung around and overwhelmed them, charging bodily and rapidly through
the soldiers, knocking them from their horses with lances and knives,
dismounting and killing them, cutting the arms of several off at the
elbows in the midst of the fight and carrying them away.