Colonization Indian Scares; Organizing in Self Defense, etc.

In the autumn of the year of 1878, a gentleman by the name of John Joplin was sent out from Zanesville, Ohio, to select a suitable place in Western Kansas for the purpose of locating a colony. The intention was to start a co-operative business in farming. After surveying the country at large, he came to the conclusion that the Crooked Creek valley, Meade County, where I was living at the time, was the most desirable for the purpose. He returned home and gave a glowing report of what he had done, and his efforts and report received the approval of the future colonists. They made their arrangements and moved westward in the following spring. When they had reached their destination, they learned that Chief Dull Knife, a leader of a band of northern Chyenne Indians, had left the reservation at Ft. Reno where he and his followers were held as prisoners of war. Followed by a numerous retinue of tribesmen he started for the Black Hills and had passed through the Crooked Creek Valley, killing the settlers. They continued on their way, killing, burning, and destroying everything and everybody in sight until they were re-captured at Ft. Robinson, Nebraska. From there they were brought back and placed on the reservation once more.

The particulars of the Dull Knife Raid will be given in another chapter.

Needless to say, these reports caused considerable excitement in the valley. Every few days rumors were circulated that the Indians were returning, or would return as soon as the grass had begun to sprout again. Hardly had one rumor died until another was put into circulation. Excitement reached such a degree that all deemed it necessary to organize for protection. A meeting was called which all the settlers were invited, or requested, to attend. The Colonists assembled at the dug-out of a Mr. M. B. Wilson, one of the leading spirits of the movement, to devise ways and means for protection in case the Indians should return. After a general discussion of the prevailing conditions, it was unanimously agreed that we should appeal to the Governor of Kansas for fire arms, as there were few of us that had any, many had none, and some had no money to purchase them, and some that did have them, had very little knowledge of their use. Our secretary was instructed to write to the governor, explain the conditions of affairs, and request him to send us the necessary guns and ammunition with which to protect ourselves against the Indians in case they should make another descent on the valley, which they would likely do as they were threatening to leave the reservation and go on the warpath a second time. After a good deal of correspondence and red tape we succeeded in getting the governor’s attention, and he kindly informed us, after several week’s delay, that if we wanted any assistance from the state, we should join the militia. He informed us that when we were duly sworn in, he would send the necessary arms for protection of our homes and families. To the disinterested reader this action on the part of the governor may seem magnanimous, but to the settler whose family was living in a dug-out with nothing to protect them but a fire shovel or a hatchet in case of an Indian raid, it looked very much like a case of criminal neglect. Another meeting was called, and it was well attended. There were many women present who seemed anxious to organize a company for the protection of their homes. After some discussion it was decided to organize and join the militia. Among those present was a veteran of the Civil war. He was elected Captain on his war record—one of the home-made kind, as none of his comrades of the war recollected any time or place where he performed any deed of valor—as he would most likely know the best thing to do at the proper time. To hear the Captain tell of his numerous exploits, the number of men took prisoners of war, how he had on several occasions leaped over the breastworks of some beleagured fort in the midst of a shower of grape and canister, and tore down the Confederate flag, one would think that he, Capt. Milligan, bore a charmed life. It seemed strange to me that such a thoughtful man as Abe Lincoln did not send somebody down south to assist the Captain as he seemed to be doing all the heavy fighting himself. Such was our captain, the last and the greatest of the Milligans up to that time, and it would require a remarkable scion to eclipse his record, if one hundredth part of what he said was true.

Returning to the thread of my story, and I hope you will pardon the digression but it would be impossible to pass over the merits of our worthy Captain without bringing to the notice of the world at large his claims to the honor conferred upon him, we elected G. W. Brown First Lieutenant, Mr. Gantz, Second Lieutenant, and C. M. Rice, Sergeant. The above officers were veterans, or had been scouts, and the remainder required to complete the contingent had no military experience whatever. We instructed the secretary to notify the governor that we had organized and were ready to be sworn into the State Militia. We did not actually want to join the militia, but would rather join the Women’s Relief Corps, or the Suffragette Movement, or the Populist party, anything to get the guns and ammunition. (The swearing part of the program did not play a very important part as there had been enough swearing done along the Creek already over the Governor’s indolence and failure to send the relief requested, yes, enough to have sworn in seven regiments with some to spare.)As the assemblage was about to disperse, some one called for a speech. Others called on Capt. Milligan to harangue the multitude. This was kept up until the Captain, with all the dignity of a well trained parliamentarian, condescended to make a few remarks to show his appreciation of the favor conferred upon him, etc. He selected a small knoll from which to deliver himself of the sentiments that filled his manly breast. He assumed the pose of an orator of the old school and delivered a discourse in something like the following words:

“Fellow Citizens, Ladies and Gentlemen: We are now on the eve of a terrible conflict to decide whether the white man with tens of thousands of years of civilization, culture and refinement behind him, or the wily undomesticated, uncivilized, uncouth, uncultured, unrefined, undressed savage will rule the plains. Whether the untutored savage will continue to water the virgin soil of the rolling prairie with the blood of the best of our citizens, or whether the white man shall give to the unlimited area of the plains the advantage of a training developed by centuries of progress in the arts of peace and agriculture. (Cheers, and hurrah for Milligan). I am here to state my views and express my sentiments on the question that each and every one of us is debating in the depths of the individual heart.” It was quite evident that the Captain was laboring under difficulties, as he delivered the above in a very hesitating manner. What he lacked in fluency of speech, he made up by violence and frequency of gestures. He swung his arms and stamped his feet to emphasize the degree of his perturbation while contemplating in advance the horrors to which they were to be subjected. He became so wrapped up in his subject and was so earnest in his endeavors to move his hearers, that he did not realize that he was standing on a hill inhabited by a colony of red ants; nor was he aware that a regiment of them had set out to explore the depths of his unmentionables and were at that very moment making rapid progress through the recesses of his underwear. Suddenly he became aware of something peculiar about his feelings and to cover the difficulty under which he was laboring, and at the same time to prove to his hearers that his reputation was above reproach and his patriotism beyond question, he accentuated his remarks by more violent gestures than before, striking himself on the thighs and even reaching beyond the limits to which gestures were supposed to extend, realizing that farther speech with decorum was out of the question he was compelled by force of circumstances to desist from further efforts. He made an assault on his personal enemies as best he might under the circumstances in such a public place. He squeezed and pinched, slapped and crushed, but the greater the efforts he made, the more they seemed to be impelled to greater efforts of offense. He rolled up his trouser legs, as far as public decency would permit, but exposure only drove the enemy to seek more advantageous hiding places. He could not ask his friends to help him because it seemed such a personal affair, and besides, they were at that moment helpless in their efforts to stifle their laughter. In his desperation he started for the creek, which, fortunately for him, was close at hand. A clump of hackberry and plum bushes screened him from the multitude, and in the friendly cover offered him by nature herself, he began to put the enemy to rout. However, mindful of the position to which he had been elected, and the duty incumbent on him of stirring them up to the proper degree of patriotism, he sent word that he would return shortly to continue his harangue. More than half an hour elapsed before he returned, and to guard against more interruptions, we pulled an old wagon to the fore and fixed it up in proper shape for him to continue his remarks.

Upon his arrival he was assisted by Sergeant Rice and Lieutenant Brown to mount the newly made rostrum. After apologizing for his abrupt departure, he continued his address as follows; “Ladies and Gentlemen: I am ready for the worst if it must come. A brave man dies but once, whilst the coward dies every time danger approaches. There is no use of being timid nor chicken-hearted in the present cause. I do not encourage cruelty, but we must stand firmly together to defend our rights and protect our families and firesides. (Cheers). For my part I want to emphatically say that no invader can leave his moccasin track on my threshold, nor disturb the peace of my household until he has crossed over all that is mortal of Capt. Milligan. Do you think that I would sit silently and submissively by and see him shoot down the old family watch-dog, work him up into bouillion, and eat his repast in the shadow of my “sorghum stack.” I say, No! a thousand times, No! I would prefer to meet their leader in single combat on the open prairie and when I had driven him from the field of battle, follow him to his tepee, destroy his totempole, tear his wampum belt from his body and carry it away as a trophy of the expedition.” (Tumultuous applause.)

As it was getting rather late, and many had long distances to travel before reaching home, the Capt. closed his harangue, thanking them for their attention and assuring them that their interests were his interests, and that he was willing to go to extreme lengths to defend their rights, and homes.

In a few days we received word that the Governor had instructed Adjutant General Noble to proceed to Dodge City and thence to Crooked Creek where he was to receive the oath of allegiance of the colonists, and deliver the guns and ammunition, and give us such instructions as he deemed necessary for us in our line of duty. On the following Thursday he arrived and went through the formality of enlisting us and delivering to us the weapons of war. Henceforth we were full-fledged members of the Kansas State Militia. After turning over to us the arms and ammunition, he delivered a short talk in which he instructed us in our duties to the State and to one another.

When the arms were distributed, it was found that there was a surplus left, which came in handy to shoot antelope with afterwards. These guns, in the meantime, were left in charge of Lieut. Brown. The Adjutant-General then bade us good-bye and departed for home.

We immediately set to work to provide for our defense. After some deliberation, we concluded to provide a fortification in which to place the women and children and all those who might happen to be in the neighborhood in the time of danger. As funds were lacking, and rock, or timber was not to be had, we decided to build it of sod. The following Saturday was the day set aside to vote on the proper location of our future fortification. On the appointed day, all assembled. They expressed their willingness and eagerness to do anything to further the project. One thing each one was determined on was to have it built as near his claim as possible. It did not take long to arrive at a conclusion regarding the position in which the fort was to be built. As it was impossible to satisfy everybody, we abandoned the project entirely, and it was further decided that each one was to take his share of the guns and ammunition and take care of himself. Another subject that gave us much concern was the matter of drilling. The adjutant had told us to become familiar with the use of the arms, to meet at least once a week and drill to render ourselves fit for duty. When the time arrived for our first lesson in the “manual of arms,” it was found that there was not a man present who knew anything about it. The old scouts who were present, knew all about how to ride a horse, and to lie down in a buffalo wallow and take a shot at an Indian if one came in sight, and they were, besides, first class hands at discovering watering places and the like, but in the matter of drill they were entirely unsophisticated. Even Capt. Milligan, if he ever knew anything about the matter, declared he had forgotten it entirely. He felt sure, however, that it would be impossible to perform the proper manoeuvers with those short-barreled guns, and that if the Governor would send some with long barrels that he would be right at home in the matter. As no one seemed capable of conducting the class, we settled the difficulty in the same manner as we did that of the fort, by abandoning it also. It was unanimously agreed that in case of trouble, each should go to the aid of his neighbor if assistance were needed. This was very satisfactory for me especially, as I was fortunate in the possession of splendid neighbors, Sergeant Rice living on one side of me, and First Lieut. Brown on the other. Both were possessed of abundant fighting material at all times, and knew how to use it in an emergency.

Things seemed to drag along in the usual way, everybody settling down to his own affairs and everything would have gone along tranquilly enough were it not for the numerous cowboys passing through the settlement, spreading reports as they went, that the Indians were mixing war medicine and would shortly make a descent upon the palefaces. It was a source of great delight to them to stampede the settlers by disquieting reports, and then have a good laugh about it. Their efforts at fun kept the settlers in a state of ferment.

It happened that Capt. Milligan’s claim was located on the south side of the settlement and nearest to the Indian Territory. As he was rather nervous and always on the alert, he kept inquiring continuously of the cowboys, of the possibility of an Indian raid, and, of course, they filled his anxious ear with war news. Nearly every other day I noticed the Captain calling on either Sergeant Rice or Lieutenant Brown, and as he had to make a ride of ten miles or so to make the visit, I concluded that there was some significance to these numerous calls. However, as they were my superior officers, I did not feel at liberty to make any inquiries about the Captain’s frequent visits. I did not have to curb my curiosity very long before acquiring the desired information. In a few days I saw the Captain riding up in my direction on his old bald-faced horse and could see at a glance that his arrival was something of importance as he was riding straight up in his saddle with as much dignity as it was possible for one horse to carry. Upon his near approach I felt that I must do something to acknowledge the presence of my captain. Not being versed in military etiquette, I doffed my Stetson hat. As I was leaning against the fence, with a spade in one hand and my hat in the other, I realized that my appearance lacked something of the military precision required in a subordinate, and I apologized for my lack of training in the case. He dismounted from his horse and condescended to shake hands with me and said that the salute was only a matter of form anyway; that he understood my position exactly; that he was a recruit once himself; that on such occasions as this he could overlook little technicalities of the kind, but on the field of glory he would have to be more exacting with his men. I then invited the Captain to take a seat on a cottonwood log near at hand so that we could discuss matters pertaining to the Company more at leisure I congratulated him on the choice of officers which he had made.

“Yes,” said he, “they are all good men and true, but if I had it to do over again, I would try to have you act as First Lieutenant of the Company. Brown is a good man and a good scout and has seen some service with the Indians, but he lacks aggressiveness. I want men who are aggressive and who will go into battle as if they are going to breakfast. By the way,” he continued, “I dropped over to see you and to leave orders for you to go down into the Indian Territory and size up the situation. Find out if the Indians are in an ugly mood, and if they are likely to make a raid in the near future. Then report to me on your return and I will take some steps in the direction that will be best for all concerned. The cowboys have been circulating some reports concerning an intended raid, but I do not know whether any credence is to be placed in them or not. Consequently I decided to come over to see you and send you down to look the field over, and then I would feel more satisfied, and know just what action to take in the matter.”

I asked the Captain how he expected me to go down there, and who would bear the expense of my journey.

“Oh,” said he, “you can take your own horse, and I suppose the State will be responsible for any bills you make whilst under my orders.” I then asked him what I should do for food for myself as well as for my horse. A broad smile lit up his countenance and he replied, “Don’t you know that the cowmen will be more than pleased to have a soldier stop at their ranches for the feeling of security his presence will engender? Your board and horse-feed will not have to be considered at all. You can go to the R-S ranch, the Doc Day ranch, the Y. L. ranch or the Driscoll ranch, and they will receive you with open arms. I can assure you that no charges will be even mentioned.”

During this short interview I discovered a nigger in the Captain’s wood-pile. The fact was that the cowboys had him half scared to death by telling him all kinds of Indian war stories. The particular reason he had in calling on me, was to have me go down to the Territory, and if I was not scalped while on my mission, and if I found that the Indians were really going on the warpath, I should report to him without delay so that he might be able to withdraw his precious(?) person from the zone of danger and escape to Fort Dodge. I told the Captain that he was somewhat mistaken in the estimate a cowman places on a soldier as a means of defense where the Indians were concerned. I assured him that I had learned their personal views on the subject, and they had arrived at the conclusion that the soldier was a detriment and an encumbrance to them in case of trouble with the Indians, and, moreover, they felt quite capable of taking care of themselves in times of danger from such sources. I went on to tell him that if he were anxious to have an investigation of conditions made, he might come over to my place in a day or so and we would go down together and make the inquiries proper to the occasion, and that I would feel safer with him than if I were alone. I immediately saw that the Captain was getting an attack of what the hunters call “buck-ague.” “Thunder and turf,” he exclaimed, “I cannot go. I am subject to orders from the Governor, and I should be in a queer fix if I were called to duty in some other part of the State while I was down in the Territory. However, I can order Corporal Copeland to go with you.” I told him that the Corporal had no horse, and it would not be right to send him on foot. I also informed him that he would have to look around and make some other arrangements, as my horse was too old, and his knee was sprung from roping cattle, so that an Indian war horse could catch him without any trouble. Conditions being such, I told him I did not think I would go. “What!” he shouted, “you do not mean to disobey orders!” His eyes bulged out until they looked like old English watches, and his chest measurement seemed to increase perceptibly. He jumped up from his seat on the log and started for his horse, saying on his way, “If you persist in disobeying orders, I shall be forced to disarm you and court-martial you for insubordination.” “Well,” said I, “you will raise the deuce court-martialing me, when there is only five or six members of the Company who can read or write and they are all on my side.” I heard nothing more from the Captain for several days. Finally I received a letter from him telling me that he had written to the Governor regarding my disobedience. I replied to his message, saying that if the Governor was as tardy in taking action on my case as he was in sending arms and ammunition, I should die of old age before the matter would be adjusted. I also informed him that I had received word that the Indians would be in our neighborhood in a few days, and that he should see to it that means were taken for our defense. Next day I received another note from him in which he told me that he had changed his attitude toward me, and that I should call on Sergeant Rice and Lieutenant Brown and tell them to report to him for duty at once, and I was to accompany them. The message I received by special delivery. I made a visit up the creek to see my friends, Rice and Brown, and reported the change that had taken place in the Captain’s attitude, and also showed them his request and instructions, asking at the same time their opinions on the matter. Brown replied, “O pshaw, that does not amount to anything. Those cowboys over on Sand Creek have the old Captain about frightened to death, and I think we had better remain where we are. There’s not an Indian in the country, and I do not think there will be.” We acted on Brown’s suggestion and remained where we were.

At this time the cowmen were holding their Spring round-up on Sand Creek, to cut out and take back to their ranches the cattle that had drifted off during the winter, besides branding the calves before turning them loose again on the range. There were about one hundred cow-punchers at the round up, all well mounted and well armed. Each man had from three to five horses in his mount, all in good shape because they had been grain fed for the occasion. Their arms consisted of Winchesters and six-shooters. There had been so many rumors circulated about the possibility of an Indian raid that all went prepared for any emergency. One day while they were all lying around awaiting the arrival of the round-up herds from the Southeast, a happy thought occurred to them to put to the test the bravery of Captain Milligan, of which they had heard much, thinking at the same time to have some sport at his expense. They formed a company of about thirty, dressed up like Indians, or near enough to the real thing to be mistaken for them at a distance. The leader was fitted with a red saddle blanket decorated with sage brush for a war bonnet, with a few cat tails for plumes. He looked more like a grizzly bear than an Indian, but his appearance was well calculated to strike terror into the heart of any civilized human being, especially when everyone was looking for trouble from such a source anyway. The rest of the crowd dressed up as each saw fit, carrying their hats inside their shirts so as to travel bareheaded after the Indian fashion. When all was ready they took a direct route for Captain Milligan’s place. They all knew how to render the Cheyenne war whoop when the proper time arrived, and the leader rode along at a moderate pace chanting his war song. They came to a halt to decide whether they should burn him alive, or capture him and hold him for ransom. One man said it was useless to hold him for any ransom as he knew most of the company, and as for burning him alive, he did not think there was a cow-puncher in the crowd that would waste time necessary to gather chips for the sacrifice. In the meantime the chief kept ranging around and waving his hands, keeping his war bonnet as much in evidence as possible. They moved up to a position within about a quarter of a mile of the Captain’s house and then gave a war whoop. By this time the object of the joke became aware of their presence and felt his peril keenly. He made a dash for his corral where he kept a little, old, notch-eared, sore-backed pony that he always kept saddled for any emergency. To say that he went rapidly, is putting it mildly—he fairly flew. When he got started the Indians(?) made a rush to capture him, firing at him in the meanwhile. They remained a safe distance behind so as to be sure not to capture him, but kept up the shouting and whooping for about two miles. The Captain took the shortest course to Fort Dodge, and the cowboys returned to camp laughing heartily at the brave man’s flight.

When the Captain had made about five miles of his hasty retreat, he happened upon one of his neighbors, Mike O’Shea, who had begun to dig a well. As he passed in his headlong flight he shouted to Mike, “Tell Rice and Brown they are here, and I am going to Fort Dodge for relief and succor.” He was in too great a hurry to stop and explain the cause of his excitement, and as Mike explained it afterwards, he said he thought he was going for a “thafe and sucker” or something of the kind, or maybe it was “relafe and supper, or something like that.” He also noticed that the Captain’s horse was almost out of breath, and the gentleman himself was very much excited.

Whilst Rice and Brown were interviewing Mike, another man came along and stated that he had seen the Captain about ten miles north, and he reported having had an engagement with the Indians that day at his claim, and said that he had stood them off until they had retired. As he was about out of ammunition at the time of their departure, he took advantage of their retreat to make his way to Fort Dodge for relief and succor. He did not say how many he had killed, but maintained that he had a very narrow escape.

I suppose, if Captain Milligan is alive today, he does not fail to tell of the time he stood off five hundred Cheyenne Indians, single-handed and alone, and how, after driving them off, he beat them to Fort Dodge in quest of aid.

A few days after the encounter with the supposed Indians, Lieutenant Brown received the following note from the Captain:

Fort Dodge, Kansas, April—,’79.

Lieutenant Brown:

Dear Comrade:—I am in receipt of a telegram from the Governor, ordering me to go at once to Topeka, to take charge of the strike-breakers. The railroad employees have gone out on a strike, and it will take the strong arm of the militia to hold them in check. Sell my land and all my effects, and forward the proceeds to my address, which will be, State Capitol, Topeka.

Yours in command,
Captain Milligan.

P. S. Regards to all the comrades.