Part 12 (1/2)

We left New Ulm, after the arrival of the various companies which I have named on the 21st of August, strengthening its barricades and awaiting events. I had placed a good gla.s.s on the top of one of the stone buildings within the barricades for the purpose of observation, and always kept a sentinel there to report any movement he should discover in any direction throughout the surrounding country. We had heard distinctly the cannonading at the fort for the past two days, but knew nothing of the result of the fight at that point. I was perfectly familiar, as were many of my command, with the country between New Ulm and the fort, on both sides of the river, knowing the house of every settler on the roads.

Sat.u.r.day, the 23d of August, opened bright and beautiful, and early in the morning we saw column after column of smoke rise in the direction of the fort, each smoke being nearer than the last. We knew to a certainty that the Indians were approaching in force, burning every building and grain or hay stack they pa.s.sed. The settlers had either all been killed, or had taken refuge at the fort or New Ulm, so we had no anxiety about them. About 9:30 a. m. the enemy appeared in great force, on both sides of the river. Those on the east side, when they reached the neighborhood of the ferry, burned some stacks as a signal of their arrival, which was responded to by a similar fire in the edge of the timber, about two miles and a half from the town on the west side. Between this timber and the town, was a beautiful open prairie, with considerable descent towards the town. Immediately on seeing the smoke from the ferry the enemy advanced rapidly, some six hundred strong, many mounted and the rest on foot. I had determined to meet them on the open prairie, and had formed my men by companies in a long line of battle, with intervals between them, on the first level plateau on the west side of the town, thus covering its whole west front. There were not over twenty or thirty rifles in the whole command, and a man with a shotgun, knowing his antagonist carries a rifle, has very little confidence in his fighting ability. Down came the Indians in the bright sunlight, galloping, running, yelling, and gesticulating in the most fiendish manner. If we had had good rifles they never would have got near enough to do much harm, but as it was we could not check them before their fire began to tell on our line. They deployed to the right and left until they covered our entire front, and then charged. My men, appreciating the inferiority of their armament, after seeing several of their comrades fall, and having fired a few ineffectual volleys, fell back on the town, pa.s.sing some buildings without taking possession of them, which mistake was instantly taken advantage of by the Indians, who at once occupied them, but they did not follow us into the town proper, no doubt thinking our retreat was a feint to draw them among the buildings, and thus gain an advantage. I think if they had boldly charged into the town and set it on fire, they would have won the fight; but, instead, they surrounded it on all sides, the main body taking possession of the lower end of the main street below the barricades, from which direction a strong wind was blowing towards the center of the town. From this point they began firing the houses on both sides of the street. We soon rallied the men, and kept the enemy well in the outskirts of the town, and the fighting became general on all sides. Just about this time, my first lieutenant, William B. Dodd, galloped down the main street, and as he pa.s.sed a cross street the Indians put three or four bullets through him. He died during the afternoon, after having been removed several times from house to house as the enemy crowded in upon us.

On the second plateau, there was an old Don Quixote windmill, with an immense tower and sail-arms about seventy-five feet long, which occupied a commanding position, and had been taken possession of by a company of about thirty men, who called themselves the Le Sueur Tigers, most of whom had rifles. They barricaded themselves with sacks of flour and wheat, loopholed the building and kept the savages at a respectful distance from the west side of the town. A rifle ball will bury itself in a sack of flour or wheat, but will not penetrate it. During the battle the men dug out several of them, and brought them to me because they were the regulation Minie bullet, and there had been rumors that the Confederates from Missouri had stirred up the revolt and supplied the Indians with guns and ammunition. I confess I was astonished when I saw the bullets, as I knew the Indians had no such arms, but I soon decided that they were using against us the guns and ammunition they had taken from the dead soldiers of Captain Marsh's company. I do not believe the Confederates had any hand in the revolt of these Indians.

We held several other outposts, being brick buildings outside the barricades, which we loopholed, and found very effective in holding the Indians aloof. The battle raged generally all around the town, every man doing his best in his own way. It was a very interesting fight on account of the stake we were contending for. We had in the place about twelve or fifteen hundred women and children, the lives of all of whom, and of ourselves, depended upon victory perching on our banners; for in a fight like this, no quarter is ever asked or given. The desperation with which the conflict was conducted can be judged from the fact that I lost sixty men in the first hour and a half, ten killed and fifty wounded, out of less than 250, as my force had been depleted by the number of about seventy-five by Lieutenant Huey taking that number to guard the approach to the ferry. Crossing to the other side of the river he was cut off, and forced to retreat toward St. Peter. It was simply a mistake of judgment to put the river between himself and the main force, but in his retreat he met Capt. E. St. Julian c.o.x, with reinforcements for New Ulm, joined them, and returned the next day. He was a brave and willing officer. The company I mentioned as having arrived from South Bend, having heard that the Winnebagoes had joined in the outbreak, left us before the final attack on Sat.u.r.day, the 23d of August, claiming that their presence at home was necessary to protect their families, and on the morning of the 23d, when the enemy was in sight, a wagon load of others left us and went down the river. I doubt if we could have mustered over two hundred guns at any time during the fight.

The enemy, seeing his advantage in firing the buildings in the lower part of the main street, and thus gradually nearing our barricades with the intention of burning us out, kept up his work as continuously as he could with the interruptions we made for him by occasionally driving him out; but his approach was constant, and about 2 o'clock a roaring conflagration was raging on both sides of the street, and the prospect looked discouraging. At this juncture Asa White, an old frontiersman, connected with the Winnebagoes, whom I had known for a long time, and whose judgment and experience I appreciated and valued, came to me and said: ”Judge, if this goes on, the Indians will bag us in about two hours.” I said: ”It looks that way; what remedy have you to suggest.”

His answer was, ”We must make for the cottonwood timber.” Two miles and a half lay between us and the timber referred to, which, of course, rendered his suggestion utterly impracticable with two thousand noncombatants to move, and I said: ”White, they would slaughter us like sheep should we undertake such a movement. Our strongest hold is in this town, and if you will get together fifty volunteers, I will drive the Indians out of the lower town and the greatest danger will be pa.s.sed.”

He saw at once the propriety of my proposition, and in a short time we had a squad ready, and sallied out, cheering and yelling in a manner that would have done credit to the wildest Comanches. We knew the Indians were congregated in force down the street, and expected to find them in a sunken road, about three blocks from where we started, but they had worked their way up much nearer to us, and were in a deep swale about a block and a half from our barricades. There was a large number of them, estimated at about seventy-five to one hundred, some on ponies and some on foot. When the conformation of the ground disclosed their whereabouts, we were within one hundred feet of them. They opened a rapid fire on us, which we returned, while keeping up our rus.h.i.+ng advance. When we were within fifty feet of them, they turned and fled down the street. We followed them for at least half a mile, firing as well as we could. This took us beyond the burning houses, and finding a large collection of saw logs, I called a halt and we took cover among them, lying flat on the ground. The Indians stopped when we ceased to chase them, and took cover behind anything that afforded protection, and kept up an incessant fire upon us whenever a head or hand showed itself above the logs. We held them, however, in this position, and prevented their return toward the town by way of the street. I at once sent a party back with instructions to burn every building, fence, stack or other object that would afford cover between us and the barricades. This order was strictly carried out, and by six or seven o'clock there was not a structure standing outside of the barricades in that part of the town. We then abandoned our saw logs and returned to the town, and the day was won, the Indians not daring to charge us over an open country. I lost four men killed in this exploit, one of whom was especially to be regretted. I speak of Newell Houghton. In ordinary warfare, all men stand for the same value as a general thing; but in an Indian fight, a man of cool head, an exceptionally fine shot, and armed with a reliable rifle, is a loss doubly to be regretted. Houghton was famous as being the best shot and deer hunter in all the Northwest, and had with him his choice rifle. He had built a small steamboat with the proceeds of his gun, and we all held him in high respect as a fine type of frontiersman.

We had hardly got back to the town before a man brought me a rifle which he had found on the ground near a clump of brush, and handing it to me said, ”Some Indian lost a good gun in that run.” It happened that White was with me, and saw the gun. He recognized it in an instant, and said: ”Newell Houghton is dead. He never let that gun out of his hands while he could hold it.” We looked where the gun was picked up, and found Houghton dead in the brush. He had been scalped by some Indian who had seen him fall, and had sneaked back and scalped him.

That night we dug a system of rifle pits all along the barricades on the outside, and manned them with three or four men each, but the firing was desultory through the night, and nothing much was accomplished on either side.

The next morning (Sunday) opened bright and beautiful, but scarcely an Indian was to be seen. They had given up the contest, and were rapidly retreating northward up the river. We got an occasional shot at one, but without effect except to hasten the retreat. And so ended the second and decisive battle of New Ulm.

In this fight between ourselves and the enemy we burned one hundred and ninety buildings, many of them substantial and valuable structures. The whites lost some fourteen killed and fifty or sixty wounded. The loss of the enemy is uncertain, but after the fight we found ten dead Indians in burned houses, and in chaparral where they escaped the notice of their friends. As to their wounded we knew nothing, but judging from the length and character of the engagement, and the number of their dead found, their casualties must have equalled, if not exceeded ours.

About noon of Sunday, the 24th, Capt. E. St. Julien c.o.x arrived with a company from St. Peter, which had been sent by Colonel Sibley to reinforce us. Lieutenant Huey, who had been cut off at the ferry on the previous day, accompanied him with a portion of his command. They were welcome visitors.

There were in the town at the time of the attack on the 23d, as near as can be learned, from 1,200 to 1,500 noncombatants, consisting of women and children, refugees and unarmed citizens, all of whose lives depended upon our success. It is difficult to conceive a much more exciting stake to play for, and the men seemed fully to appreciate it, and made no mistakes.

On the 25th we found that provisions and ammunition were becoming scarce, and pestilence being feared from stench and exposure, we decided to evacuate the town and try to reach Mankato. This destination was chosen to avoid the Minnesota river, the crossing of which we deemed impracticable. The only obstacle between us and Mankato was the Big Cottonwood river, which was fordable. We made up a train of 153 wagons, which had largely composed our barricades, loaded them with women and children, and about eighty wounded men, and started. A more heart-rending procession was never witnessed in America. Here was the population of one of the most flouris.h.i.+ng towns in the state abandoning their homes and property, starting on a journey of thirty odd miles, through a hostile country, with a possibility of being ma.s.sacred on the way, and no hope or prospect but the hospitality of strangers and ultimate beggary. The disposition of the guard was confided to Captain c.o.x. The march was successful; no Indians were encountered. We reached Crisp's farm, which was about half way between New Ulm and Mankato, about evening. I pushed the main column on, fearing danger from various sources, but camped at this point with about 150 men, intending to return to New Ulm, or hold this point as a defensive measure for the exposed settlements further down the river. On the morning of the 26th we broke camp, and I endeavored to make the command return to New Ulm or remain where they were--my object, of course, being to keep an armed force between the enemy and the settlements. The men had not heard a word from their families for more than a week, and declined to return or remain. I did not blame them. They had demonstrated their willingness to fight when necessary, but held the protection of their families as paramount to mere military possibilities. I would not do justice to history did I not record, that, when I called for volunteers to return, Captain c.o.x and his whole squad stepped to the front, ready to go where I commanded. Although I had not then heard of Captain Marsh's disaster, I declined to allow so small a command as that of Captain c.o.x to attempt the reoccupation of New Ulm. My staff stood by me in this effort, and a gentleman from Le Sueur county, Mr. Freeman Talbott, made an impressive speech to the men, to induce them to return. The train arrived safely at Mankato on the 25th, and the balance of the command on the following day, whence the men generally sought their homes.

I immediately, on arriving at Mankato, went to St. Peter, to inform Colonel Sibley of the condition of things in the Indian country. I found him, on the night of August 26th, in camp about six miles out of St.

Peter, and put him in possession of everything that had happened to the westward. His mounted men arrived at Fort Ridgely on the 27th of August, and were the first relief that reached that fort after its long siege.

Sibley reached the fort on the 28th of August. Intrenchments were thrown up about the fort, cannon properly placed, and a strong guard maintained. All but ninety men of the Cullen Guard, under Captain Anderson, returned home as soon as they found the fort was safe. The garrison was soon increased by the arrival of forty-seven men under Captain Sterritt, and on the 1st of September, Lieut. Col. William R.

Marshall of the Seventh Regiment arrived, with a portion of his command. This force could not make a forward movement on account of a lack of ammunition and provisions, which were long delayed.

BATTLE OF BIRCH COULIE.

On the 31st of August a detail of Captain Grant's company of infantry, seventy men of the Cullen Guard, under Captain Anderson, and some citizens and other soldiers, in all about 150 men, under command of Major Joseph R. Brown, with seventeen teams and teamsters, were sent from Fort Ridgely to the Lower Agency, to feel the enemy, bury the dead, and perform any other service that might arise. They went as far as Little Crow's village, but not finding any signs of Indians, they returned; and on the 1st of September they reached Birch Coulie, and encamped at the head of it. Birch Coulie is a ravine extending from the upper plateau to the river bottom, nearly opposite the ferry where Captain Marsh's company was ambushed.

The Indians, after their defeat at Fort Ridgely and New Ulm, had concentrated at the Yellow Medicine river, and decided to make one more desperate effort to carry their point of driving the whites out of the country. Their plan of operation was, to come down the Minnesota valley in force, stealthily, pa.s.sing Sibley's command at Ridgely, and attacking St. Peter and Mankato simultaneously. They congregated all their forces for this attempt, and started down the river. When they reached the foot of Birch Coulie they saw the last of Major Brown's command going up the coulie. They decided to wait and see where they encamped, and attack them early in the morning. The whites went to the upper end of the Coulie, and camped on the open prairie, about 250 feet from the brush in the coulie. On the other side of their camp there was a roll in the prairie, about four or five feet high, which they probably did not notice. This gave the enemy cover on both sides of the camp, and they did not fail to see it and take advantage of it. The moment daylight came sufficiently to disclose the camp, the Indians opened fire from both sides. The whites had ninety horses. .h.i.tched to a picket rope and their wagons formed in a circular corral, with their camp in the center.

The Indians soon killed all the horses but one, and the men used their carca.s.ses as breastworks, behind which to fight. The battle raged from the morning of September 2d to September 3d, when they were relieved by Colonel Sibley's whole command, and the Indians fled to the west.

Major Joseph R. Brown was one of the most experienced Indian men in the country, and would never have made the mistake of locating his camp in a place that gave the enemy such an advantage. He did not arrive until the camp was selected, and should have removed it at once. I have always supposed that he was lulled into a sense of security by not having seen any signs of Indians in his march; but the result proved that, when in a hostile Indian country, no one is ever justified in omitting any precautions. The firing at Birch Coulie was heard at Fort Ridgely, and a relief was sent, under Colonel McPhail, which was checked by the Indians a few miles before it reached its destination. The colonel sent a courier to the fort for reinforcements, and it fell to Lieutenant Sheehan to carry the message. With his usual energy he succeeded in getting through, his horse dying under him on his arrival. Colonel Sibley at once started with his whole command, and when he reached the battle ground the Indians left the field.

This was one of the most disastrous battles of the war. Twenty-three were killed outright or mortally wounded, and forty-five were severely wounded, while many others received slight injuries. The tents were, by the shower of bullets, made to resemble lace work, so completely were they perforated. One hundred and four bullet holes were counted in one tent. Besides the continual shower of bullets that was kept up by the Indians, the men suffered terribly from thirst, as it was impossible to get water into the camp. This fight forms a very important feature in the Indian war, as, notwithstanding its horrors, it probably prevented awful ma.s.sacres at St. Peter and Mankato, the former being absolutely defenseless, and the latter only protected by a small squad of about eighty men, which formed my headquarters guard at South Bend, about four miles distant.

OCCURRENCES IN MEEKER COUNTY AND VICINITY.