The Native American Experience

by Dee Brown

  2. When the trains are parked the chief quartermaster will report at headquarters for orders or any additional instructions before the wagon-masters receive their instructions.

  3. All wagon-masters will, accordingly, report to the chief quartermaster after trains are parked, and will, with all their assistants and subordinates, be held to strict obedience to orders received from or through this office.

  4. Commanding officers of battalion or detachments will report daily, at 8 o’clock P.M., at the office of the acting assistant adjutant-general [Lieutenant Phisterer] for marching orders for the day following and during the march. Immediate report will be made of Indian signs or the appearance of Indians, indicative of doubtful or hostile intentions; also of any serious difficulties of the road, impeding or interrupting the march, or of any other substantial cause of delay, which will throw any portion of the command behind or break up the close order of march.

  5. Assignments of commands to their respective locations in camp will be made from headquarters, and will be carried into effect under the direction of the chief quartermaster, and those assignments will be daily made on survey of the ground selected, with view of the greatest compactness and efficiency in case of alarm, access to grass, water, etc.

  6. As the only probable risk to be entertained on the march will be that of attempt to stampede or steal stock, the wagons will be corralled closely, so as to prevent any possible outbreak of animals, if alarmed, and no regard will be paid to night-feeding of animals, inconsistent with their perfect security; and wagon-masters, herdsmen, and drivers must observe the same regard to order, the same silence after tattoo, and the same rules as to leaving camp without due authority which govern the officers and soldiers of this command.

  7. No discharge of firearms within or near the camp, or during the march, except the discharge of pieces by the guard, will be permitted, unless by due authority, and no firing will be permitted on the march, even upon Indians showing hostile intent, except under immediate orders of a commissioned officer; and not then without reference to headquarters, unless an attack be so sudden as to require instant repulse.

  8. Bands of Indians met on the march desiring parley or conference will be referred to headquarters, or passed with simple recognition and common courtesy, and previous orders respecting intercourse or dealings between soldiers and Indians will be rigidly enforced.

  9. Headquarters, with pioneer party, will as a general rule move in advance, then will follow the infantry command, then headquarters train, the train of the second battalion, and the present mounted rearguard thereof, then the supply trains, and in rear of all wagons and mounted command.

  10. Unless otherwise at any time ordered, when the command halts for rest, trains will also halt, so as to preserve the entirety of the command and prevent inconvenience to the troops by the passing or sudden stopping of trains.

  11. The camp of the infantry and the mounted detachment will conform in front to the line of wagons they cover, and in depth will as at general headquarters be restricted to the space actually necessary to give a reasonable distinctness of position to quarters for officers and companies.

  12. The trains must be kept compactly closed up, and the chief quartermaster is charged with the direct enforcement of this instruction.

  13. Immediately after coming in camp, the commanding officer of the mounted detachment [Lieutenant Adair] will report to the field officer of the day six noncommissioned officers and 42 privates for picket duty. These men are to form a cordon or line of pickets beyond the grazing ground, and will be returned to their camp by the senior noncommissioned officer with them after all the animals have been driven in and corralled. On the approach of Indians, they will give the herders timely notice to collect and drive in the stock and make report thereof to headquarters.

  14. Every evening at 5 o’clock the commanding officer of the second battalion [Captain Haymond] will cause one company officer and one company to report to the assistant adjutant-general for outpost duty; the officer with this company will perform the duties of a field officer of the day and report to the colonel commanding for orders. The company thus detailed will, previous to reporting, be inspected by the adjutant of the second battalion [Lieutenant Bisbee] and every man thereof should be supplied with 10 rounds of ammunition.29

  While Carrington was composing this comprehensive set of orders, his men were ferrying wagons and mules across the Platte. Thanks to the ingenious system of cables and pulleys devised by Jim Bridger, round trips averaged only eleven minutes. During the afternoon a detail of about one hundred lusty-lunged men, armed with poles, forced the beef herd into the swift current and compelled the animals to swim across.

  In early daylight of the 22nd, the last wagons were ferried over, and the train rolled smoothly for sixteen miles along the north bank of the river, camping opposite the mouth of La Vinta Creek, where water, grass, and wood were in abundance. “We had a picket line outside of the guards,” Private Murphy noted, in reference to Carrington’s new orders.30

  On the morning of the 23rd the column swung northward from the Platte, mules straining against traces to pull the heavily loaded wagons across several miles of red buttes, sand hills and rocky ridges. Once they were out of the valley the scenery was spectacular; the windings of the river could be seen far below, the level plain beyond extending into the horizon.

  Near the Sage Creek crossing of the old Mormon Trail, they halted for nooning, and here discovered a sort of portable “ranche,” an extemporized plank shed, offering merchandise to expected summer travelers over the Montana Road. The proprietors were Louis Gazzous and Henry Arrison, the former known to Jim Bridger and his fellow guides as “French Pete.” Gazzous was married to a Sioux, and several of his half-breed children were playing happily over displays of canned fruit, liquor, tobacco, cutlery, and cheese.

  Gazzous was a friendly sort, eager to gain the good will of the military, and when Surgeon Horton’s wife expressed admiration for a young antelope the Frenchman was raising as a pet, he presented it to her as a gift.

  Although the 24th was a Sunday, Carrington decided the urgency of his mission was too compelling to spare a day for rest. That night the train camped at the head of Sage Creek, and on Monday marched to the South Fork of the Cheyenne, where buffalo grass and timber were plentiful, and water was obtainable by digging into a sandy stream bed.

  On the 26th, acting upon Jim Bridger’s advice, the train cut away from the old Bozeman Trail and covered twenty miles in rapid time to Antelope Creek. Early the following morning, they had their first view of the Big Horns, bright under the blaze of the eastern sun. Margaret Carrington excitedly borrowed her husband’s field glass for a closer look. Somewhere in the vicinity of that magnificent snow-crested range, still eighty miles away, the 2nd Battalion would build the first fort.

  With their destination now in view, the infantrymen marched with lighter steps. “In half an hour,” Mrs. Carrington wrote, “the air itself was invigorated by the currents from the snow banks; and even at that distance shawls became necessary, the ambulance side curtains were closed, and it seemed as if a November day was to succeed the summer’s morning.”31

  Off to the right, the travelers soon sighted the four columns of Pumpkin Buttes, and by nightfall they were at the Dry Branch of Powder River. Fort Reno was now only a long day’s march away. Thus far their enemies had been summer heat, dust, shortage of rations, and plain weariness of bone and muscle. The Indians as yet had made no demonstrations of hostility.

  If the mood among the men was relaxation of tensions, there was certainly no relaxation of security precautions on this last camp before Reno. Bridger had assured Carrington that bands of Sioux were watching their every move; the scout had picked up Indian signs every day; at the first slacking of vigilance they would strike. On this last night, Carrington cautioned his officers to follow security orders to the letter. And because he was eager to reach Fort Reno early the next day, he also announced
that march would be resumed as soon after midnight as the sky lightened.

  By sunup the wagons were rolling again. For twelve miles the road followed the Dry Fork’s bed, wagon wheels sometimes running in damp sand, sometimes in three or four inches of milky water. During the early morning they were confined to a narrow butte-locked basin, and Bridger and his fellow guides were doubly vigilant, riding far up on the powder-colored, cactus-studded ridges.

  At last they swung northwest out of the Dry Fork, facing across a dusty gray plain broken by red-shaled hills. Even at midmorning the sun burned at their backs, but Carrington kept the column moving steadily. Shortly before noon the advance party topped a rise, and there was Powder River. Just beyond on a level bench above the stream lay Fort Reno.

  With his headquarters party, Carrington led the way down through a mile of cottonwood bottomland, and at almost exactly 12 o’clock they were splashing across the shallow reddish stream. While Carrington rode on to report to the Reno commander, the first wagons were turning to form a corral just south of the fort.

  Fort Reno was an open post, the building constructed of Cottonwood logs with earthen roofs, a high staked fence protecting warehouses and stables. The first view of its bareness was depressing, but Margaret Carrington recorded cheerfully that “so far, we are all right, and fast seeing the country.”32 Every member of the expedition knew that this fort, however unadorned it might be, was their last link with civilization, the jumping-off place before they entered the terra incognita which lay between them and the Montana gold settlements.

  General Patrick Connor had ordered its construction during his unsuccessful campaign of the previous summer, and since the withdrawal of his columns, the post had been manned by Companies C and D of the 5th U.S. Volunteers and the company of Winnebago scouts met by the expedition on the first day out of Laramie.33 The 5th U.S. Volunteers was one of those odd by-products of the late Civil War, the enlisted men being “galvanized Yankees,” or former Confederate prisoners who had taken the oath of allegiance with a proviso that they would not be required to fight against the South but only against the Indians.*

  The officer in command was Captain George M. Bailey, and he greeted Colonel Carrington almost as a deliverer. Bailey’s men were in low spirits, irritable, some of them almost mutinous. The Civil War had been ended for a year, and they wanted to return home.

  Carrington explained that he carried no orders for the discharge of the 5th U.S. Volunteers, but he did possess authority to appropriate all ordnance stores, rations, supplies and government livestock. In other words, Fort Reno was to be moved some miles to the northwest, probably near Tongue River where wood, water and grass were more abundant.

  The dilemma of what was to be done with the galvanized Yankees was resolved that afternoon by arrival of a mail courier from Fort Laramie. Among other messages for Carrington was a telegram from General Pope authorizing relief of the U.S. Volunteers and directing them to proceed to Fort McPherson for eventual discharge from service. John Ryan, a private in the 2nd Battalion, was present in the fort when the news was announced to the Volunteers. “They were certainly glad to be relieved,” he said. “They had had no trouble with the Indians but had found the place far from being desirable as a permanent place of residence.”34

  Meanwhile, the 2nd Battalion proceeded to take over operation of the fort. Lieutenant Adair’s mounted command camped at the base of the hill for ready access to the alkaline waters of the Powder, the wagon train and infantry companies formed their usual tight corral south of the fort, and regimental headquarters tents were erected near the fort’s flagstaff. To establish proper military chain of command, Carrington ordered that Fort Reno would be garrisoned by Companies A, B, C, and H, under Captain Tenodor Ten Eyck, this command to be responsible for dismantling the old fort and establishing the new one.

  As the busy day drew to a close, a sudden summer hailstorm swept down from the Big Horns. Private William Murphy, on herding detail, said the hailstones were as large as pullets’ eggs. “We had had some trouble about an hour before in getting the stock to ford the Powder River, but they went back over it as though it were dry land. The animals that were picketed pulled their pins; the hobbled ones and even the stock the herders were riding all stampeded. The herders finally stopped their horses two or three miles from where they started.”35

  Not long after his arrival at Fort Reno, Colonel Carrington was surprised to discover the presence of three emigrant trains camped a few hundred yards beyond the post. These Montana-bound caravans had halted a few days earlier on the advice of Captain Bailey and were awaiting arrival of the soldiers before proceeding farther.

  On the morning of the 29th, Carrington rode down to confer with the leaders. He was shocked by their lack of security precautions, by the slovenliness of their camps. “They were waiting for the protection it was understood would be furnished by the troops … these emigrants were impatient to proceed, but so mixed with mule and ox trains that they had no concert of purpose. They were naturally restless under the circumstances, and could not agree among themselves.”

  Carrington realized at once that the movement of civilians through his Mountain District was going to be a greater problem than he had believed. He informed the emigrants that within twenty-four hours he would draw up a set of regulations for civilian travelers to ensure their safety through the Indian country. One of the train captains made light of the Indian danger. “We’ll never see an Indian,” he said, “unless they come to beg for sugar, flour, or tobacco.”36

  Carrington hoped the man was right, but warned all the travelers to stay in camp until they received further orders from him. On his way back to the fort, he noted a herd of horses and mules grazing unguarded in a ravine. These animals, he learned, were the property of Sutler A. C. Leighton, who seemed confident the Indians would not disturb them.

  That afternoon Carrington visited Leighton in his trailside store just north of the fort. Perhaps the colonel wished to become better acquainted with the sutler, who had been authorized to supply stores for the three new forts. Carrington had just entered Leighton’s quarters when a soldier rushed in shouting “Indians!” and excitedly informed the sutler that his livestock was being raided. The men rushed to the door, and off across the Powder they could see the herd stampeding up a hill, followed by a party of Indians. Leighton was both astonished and angry; he had never had any trouble with the Indians before, he declared.

  As soon as Carrington could reach his headquarters, he ordered his bugler to sound the alarm, and a few minutes later the mounted infantrymen were saddling up. In less than half an hour after the Indian raid, Captain Haymond and Lieutenant Adair with ninety men were in pursuit. But the time lapse, Carrington knew, had been too great. His men must learn to react more quickly in future.

  The afternoon wore on, watchers in the fort keeping an eye out for Haymond’s pursuit party. There had been no sound of rifle fire, no trace of riders on the hills across the Powder.

  Meanwhile, in preparation for moving the fort, Captain Ten Eyck’s details were busily loading wagons with provisions from the warehouses. “The ware-rooms,” said Private Murphy, “were built of cottonwood logs, chinked and daubed with mud. Some of the daubing had dropped out and snow had drifted in [during the previous winter]. The dirt roofs also leaked and added to the dirty mess. We loaded up some sacks of bacon. I do not know how old it was, but the fat had commenced to sluff off from the lean and it was from three to five inches thick. There was a lot of flour in the storerooms and the mice had tunneled through it and the bacon, evidently for some time.”37

  The day ended with the usual routines of retreat, roll call, mess, and guard mounting, but Haymond and Adair and their pursuit party were still missing. Carrington spent a bad night, was immensely relieved the next morning to see the column come riding in across the Powder, with no empty saddles. Captain Haymond reported that he had followed the raiders’ trail into the Pumpkin Buttes, probably thirty miles, but
had captured only one Indian pony abandoned so hastily that it still bore a pack. Haymond exhibited the contents—bags of brown sugar, coffee, navy tobacco, an army blanket, a stable frock, a folded length of bright calico. All Laramie treaty presents! The raiders no doubt had followed the train all the way north, waiting for an opportunity to take livestock. Sutler Leighton’s herd had offered too tempting a target, too easy a reward for their patience. For Carrington, the incident was proof that his strict security precautions were necessary; the well-guarded military livestock had not even been threatened.

  On the last day of June a decision was made, either by Carrington alone, or in council with his staff and civilian guides, not to abandon Fort Reno entirely. Possibly the presence of civilian wagon trains influenced the judgment; at any rate it was decided that at least one secure stopping place was needed on the long route between Bridger’s Ferry and the future site of New Fort Reno—a place where travelers could halt to rest lame stock and repair wagons. Carrington assigned one of his companies to garrison the station. Details from this company were to be used for escorting mail, aiding travelers in distress, and other emergency duties. For want of a better name, the place would be called Reno Station.

  It was also decided that the 2nd Battalion could not possibly provide military escorts for the many emigrant trains expected to be moving over the road during the summer. Yet the safe passage of civilians was Carrington’s immediate responsibility, and recognizing this, he issued on June 30 a series of regulations governing the movement of civilian trains to Montana:

  1. All trains, whether large or small, must stop at Reno Station, formerly Fort Reno, on Powder River, and report to the post commander.

  2. Thirty armed men constitute a party which, upon selection of its commander or conductor, will be allowed to proceed. The reduction of this number will depend upon the general conduct of trains and the conditions and safety of the route, of which due notice will be given.