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This week the Paine-Gillam Scott Museum website is publishing Part 4 of the Civil War memoirs of Francis William Redfern in weekly serial form.\nThe Cheyenne and Arrapahoe Indians of Colorado and Wyoming had taken the war path against the first flood of Gold Seekers to the new fields of Colorado, together with the western trend of homesteaders that was just settling in. The Indians were alarmed at the sight and in fear of losing their great Hunting grounds and the driving away of the game on which they were dependent for a living. They had counseled together and determined to drive the hated white man out.
\nThere were about 300 of these braves and they had swept eastward along the valley of the Platte River from about fifty miles east of Denver village to within fifty miles of the eastern borders of Kansas and Nebraska territory.
\nWhere the Emigrant trains were not strong enough to resist their onslaught they were ruthlessly slaughtered and scalped. Their Horses and Cattle Hamstrung and their wagons and household affects burned.
\nAt this time, June 1865 there was not a foot of railroad west of the Missouri River. The Government had a line of Telegraph across the country to Sacramento California and had just let a contract to one Ben Holliday to run a line of Concord Stage Coaches from Leavenworth across the Great Plains and thru the Rocky Mountains to carry the mails. These coaches were always filled with prospectors as passengers and drivers and passengers were always heavily armed. These coaches were drawn on the Plains by not less than six good horses. In the Mountains the teams were mules.
\nThe Eastern counties of Kansas and Nebraska were just being settled and the Indians raided as far east as they dared with such weapons as they had. Their weapons were bows and arrows, tomahawks, scalping knives and spears and they rode Indian Ponies, no Squaws were with them. Their arrows were not of the Flint headed kind such as is seen in the museums of the country, but were made of the ordinary case knife blades with the handles broken off the blades ground to a sharp point and the stems, on tails, of reeds. The tails were split at the small end and four small feathers inserted to guide the arrow in flight. (I have inserted the above explanation to give a better understanding of conditions on the Frontier.)
\nIn this evident Government emergency the nearest troops were the ones to be called and we being the nearest and Cavalry too, we were at once ordered to take steamers up the Missouri River to Fort Leavenworth and make all haste to take up the pursuit of the Indians. Not having horses fit for a lengthy pursuit, I was left with a detachment of 25 men at Jefferson Barracks, St Louis, with orders to get an additional 100 horses as quick as possible and harken up river to Fort Leavenworth.
\nIt took us nearly ten days to get the 100 horses. All were wild young fellows that had never been ridden and then the fun for us began. Four horses were roped together side by side, the near horse saddled and bridled and the other three tied in order to the bits of No 1. We had a man in the saddle of No 1, and after a struggle we got them all aboard the steamer.
\nIt took us five days to get up the river to Fort Leavenworth. Our rations were gone and long before we reached Leavenworth all we had to eat was shelled corn which we took from our horses and parshed over the boiler furnaces and stoves over which the Darky firemen cooked. When we got to the bend of the river below Fort Leavenworth and warfed the steamer to the dock it was near sundown and raining with sharp thunder and lightning.
\nWe succeeded in tying the horses together again, each of us mounting the near one of the four and started for camp which was about a mile away. The horses were frightened by the thunder and lightning and would try to run and double up around one another until it seemed as if our legs would be crushed and our arms wrenched out of their sockets.
\nI don’t know how long we were in getting to camp and turning our charges over to the boys that rushed over to help us with the struggling beasts. What a relief it was to get out of that saddle. Drenched with the rain I just got my back up against a tree and fell asleep.
\nThe next morning I became aware that there was serious trouble in camp. The 5th Reg’t was in revolt. Their time of service had expired and they absolutely refused to go in pursuit of the Indians. Many of the old veterans in the other Regiments whose terms of service were nearly out sympathized with the 5th and desertions were frequent.
\nGeneral Staff’s tent was riddled with bullets and no one seemed to know where he was. Officers came down from the Fort and endeavored to quell the mutiny. The 5th Regt drew it self up in a solid square and refused to march. The members of the first 6th and 7th Regts refused to attempt to put the 5th under arrest. At length a compromise was reached.
\nThe 5th was to be discharged in Detroit and were immediately sent across the river and took train for Mich. The vol. 6th and 7th returned to their tents. The men were deserting by dozens, saying “We didn’t enlist to fight Indians and we wont. As fast as possible the men remaining were mounted and dispatched on the march west.
\nFrom this point on I lost sight of the 6th and 7th Regts as they were sent on different routes to cover and protect as wide an area of country as possible. My Regt. (the 1st) took up the line of march from Fort Leavenworth to Marysville on the Big Blue River in North east Kansas.
\nAfter leaving Marysville the country was sparsely settled and the people were in great fear of an attack by the Indians. The few crops that they were trying to raise were being destroyed by the grass hoppers that rose in clouds on either side of our column as we marched along. The Hoppers even ate the onions growing in the ground.
\nI really couldn’t see what these people were going to live on after the Grass hoppers were through. We followed the Big Blue River until we came to a tributary coming in from the North West. There were no settlers here.
\nThis tributary was a beautiful stream and known as the little Blue. This stream we followed to its source where it gushed out from under a big Limestone rock. From this place we took up the line of march for Grand Island which is an island in the Platte river right west of Omaha. The Government had established forts about 200 miles apart along the Platte River.
\nThe first west of Omaha was Fort Kearney. It was inclosed within a wall built of sods and had a garrison of Regular Army Troops. There was a Hospital here where we left several of our men that had the Typhoid fever.
\nA short time before our arrival at Fort Kearney the Indians had attacked and harassed a train of emigrants westward bound. They had killed and scalped them all and left them for dead. One man however survived and was brought in to the hospital by a party of skirmishers who found what was left of the outfit. He had been scalped and there was a place on top of his head about 4 in diameter from which the skin was torn. He also had several arrow wounds.
\nThe Horses had been hamstrung. Also several cows that were in the train. The wagons and contents burned. What was left of the bodies (The wolves had eaten most of them) the soldiers buried.
\nThe fort stood back a little way from the river and the emigrant trail led between the fort and the river. At this point I was placed in charge of our wagon train. The Ambulances and the Ammunition wagons were a part of the train. From here on Orders were that there should no one stray from the camp or leave the Column when in line of March.
\nThe Regiment was in command of Lieu’t Colonel Duggars. On the line of March the Regt led and was closely followed by the wagon train. The March was of course slow as the horses had to be given time to graze morning and night.
\nWe carried in the Regt wagons corn and oats for rations for the horses as well as rations for ourselves. We had to depend on “Buffalo Chips” Dried Manure for fuel and when a halt was made the first thing in order was to gather up a supply of fuel. The Indians were lurking along the hills as we marched.
\nEvery once in a while we could see a little shoot of smoke ascend from some distant rise of ground and it would be answered further on by another puff of smoke. At night their signals wee spurts of flame from point – to – point.
\nWe had orders to compel trains of prospectors or emigrants whom we thought too weak to withstand an attack from the Indians to fall in behind our wagon train. This they were after very glad to do. The next fort on our route was at Julesburg.
\nAlong the Platte river through this section of Country there was absolutely no timber, not even Willow bushes. The last willow bushes we saw was on a little island just near the river edge. One of the boys waded out to it and brought back a womans scalp lock. It had on it long hair and was quite dry.
\nThe evidences of Indian depredations grew more numerous day by day. The remains of wagons and the bones of horses and Cattle which had been torn to pieces by wolves also human bones with nothing to tell who they were or where they were from grew more frequent. With our teams all corralled inside our wagons at night and with us sleeping on our arms and not undressing, our saddles for pillows and our revolvers under them so that by stretching out the hand the gun could be grasped. This with cautiously placed sentries made us feel comparatively safe.
\nThe indians one day about noon set the grass on fire a mile or so to the west of us. There was a strong wind blowing and we were all astir in no time. As the flames swept toward us we tramped the grass down alongside our ammunition wagons, took the teams off and then as many men as could got hold of the tongue, others along each side and others in the rear and as the flames rolled around us we rushed the two wagons through the smoke and fire. It was a close shave but we were used to them and made it a good deal quicker than I can tell it.
\nDay after day our experiences were about the same. At last we sighted “Fremonts Orchard” a group of little Beaver girdled cottonwoods. Here we halted and had a real fire of wood.
\nThere we came to a Fallons Bluff, a great big mound several hundred feet high and right alongside of the river. Several of us made the ascent to get a view ahead. The ascent was very steep and only by going around to the rear of the bluff could it be climbed. The nearer we got to the top the narrower it became until just at the top there was only room for one on the path. The extreme front of the bluff broadened out to the size of about 3 or 4 rods.
\nThe view was fine but only showed a continuance of the same uninteresting country over which we had come. A number of very interesting things occurred on this first part of our march which I have omitted to write. It would make this article too long and tiresome. At length we reached the mouth of the Cache La Poudre River (Bury the Powder) East of Denver.
\nHere the indians had turned north along this stream and so of course returned too. I think it was one of the prettiest streams I ever saw, clear as crystal too. We followed its course till near Fort Collins, 100 miles north of Denver. The indians circled around on the east side of the fort and we went to the fort and camped just outside.
\nThe indians were close by however and the Sentries had orders to fire on anything without halting. A short distance from where we camped a French trapper with some squaws had pitched his tent and made a little garden. In this garden was growing some nice looking potato vines on tops. (Now we had not had a green vegetable of any kind for months and they looked so tempting that I said to a comrade riding by my side, If we go into camp within a mile of here I am coming back after dark and see if there are any young potatoes on those tops).
\nWe were nearly famished for some sort of vegetable and were even ready to risk our lives to get it. He said Ill be with you and he was. So when night set in and just before the sentries were posted we stole out of camp. Followed back on our line of march nearly a mile until we thought we must be near the potato patch. Then we got down on our hands and knees until we found it. Then as quietly as possible and lying low on the ground we began to finger around the tops. We found some about as big as walnuts. Got a couple of good handfuls and put them in our handkerchiefs, then crawled back into the road and a piece along it till we thought we could venture to walk.
\nOf course knew no lights were shown in camp and we knew that if we ran into a sentry we might be shot without halting. So we approached with the greatest caution. All at once I heard one of my own men say “Emmons I hear some one. I called out at once, Boys don’t shoot and then said aloud to my companion “How did we ever get outside our Picket line”, We went right to my tent, built a shrouded fire cooked the little potatoes and eat them skins and all.
\nWe remained at Fort Collins for two days, and then took up the line of march for a low lying range of Mts north and west where the indians were as we found out by a scout.
\nAfter leaving the fort we began leaving small detachments at the stage stations where halts were made to change Horses or mules. These detachments were to furnish mounted guards (4 men) to ride with the stage to the next station and remain until the stage came the next day from the opposite direction. In this way there was always guards at the station as well as with the Stages.
\nThe hiding places for the indians were frequent in this mountain country and no pursuit of them was even attempted by the small guard in attendance. I don’t recall the names of the stations where we left detachments. They were not over 25 miles apart. In passing through this first range of mts we came out on the Laramie Plains.
\nTraversed by The Laramie River, this was a lovely valley and well adapted to grazing. Quite extensive but with no settlers, an occasional Frenchman with the usual number of squaws and his trapping outfit was to be found along the streams.
\nThey were all apparently on friendly terms with the indians, buying their furs and in turn furnishing them tobacco and some other thing. I never knew just what.
\nAfter crossing the Laramie Plains we entered a very broken and hilly country wherein was some wonderful scenery. We longed to get better views of many things 7 places but of course that was impossible.
\nPassing through these hills we came to more Plains with lovely streams coming dashing down from a high range of Mts to our left. The valleys along these streams were narrow with precipitous bank on one side of the stream and a gently rising slope on the others.
\nAs we approached The Elk Mountain Range great herds of Antelope were seen. It seemed as if thousands were of them in some of these herds. Occasional white tailed deer and still less frequently an Elk was seen. Plenty of wolves, Prairie dogs and Jack Rabbits were also in evidence.
\nBy this time our Reg’t was getting few in numbers, we were getting near the end of our Western trip which was in Western Wyoming. Virginia Dale, Rock creek and Medicine Bow River were the only three stations left before we would get to Fort Halleck. Here at the foot of Elk Mountain was another detachment of U.S. Regulars and a Government Indian Scout camp.
\nDetails of men were left by us at Virginia dale also at Rock Creek and then at Medicine Bow River. I was left with 15 other men. Our Horses and equipment were left also. The wagons went on with the headquarters staff to Fort Halleck. To say that we could pitch our tents build for ourselves little huts out of the little cottonwood trees that lined the riverbank and organize hunting parties to provide us with fresh meat to take the place of Bacon, it seemed to good to be true and this was in August 1865<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"