Fanny Kelly

WHAT OCCURRED AT FORT LARAMIE AFTER MY CAPTURE—EFFORTS TO RESCUE—LIEUTENANT BROWN KILLED—REWARD OFFERED—IT IS THE MEANS OF RESTORING ANOTHER WHITE WOMAN AND CHILD—HER RESCUERS HUNG FOR FORMER MURDERS—A LETTER ANNOUNCING MY SAFE ARRIVAL AT FORT SULLY.

Immediately after Mr. Kelly reached Deer Creek, at the time of our capture, he telegraphed to Fort Laramie of the outbreak of the Indians, and the capture of his wife.

Colonel Collins, of the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry, commandant of the military district, ordered two companies, under Captain Shuman and Captain Marshall, two brave and daring men, to pursue and rescue me, and chastise the savages in case of resistance.

But the distance of one hundred miles lay between these forts, and they only arrived on their way too late for rescue. They continued their march, however, and after an absence of three days returned unsuccessful.

Sad to relate, a young and daring officer, Lieutenant Brown, of the Eleventh Ohio Volunteers, fell a victim to savage cruelty in my behalf, for with a view of prospecting the neighborhood, he, with Mr. Kelly, left the main body with a small squad of men in quest of the Indians.

Coming suddenly upon a band of warriors, in their encampment, the brave Lieutenant indiscreetly ordered an attack, but the men, seeing the futility of opposing such numbers, fled, and left Mr. Kelly and the officer.

Becoming conscious of his dangerous situation, he feigned friendship, addressing them in the usual way, “How koda?” which means, How do you do, friend?

But they were not to be deceived, and sent an arrow, causing him to fall from his horse, and the effects of which caused his death a few hours afterward.

He was immediately reported dead, and with all the speed the men could command they pursued his murderers; but the fresher horses of the savages carried them off beyond their reach, and the soldiers were compelled to return in disappointment.

Brave young man! the ardent friend of Mr. Kelly, and the husband and father of an affectionate wife and child, stricken down in his early manhood, we would humbly lay the wreath of “immortelles” upon thy lonely grave.

After several expeditions in like manner which proved unsuccessful, Mr. Kelly offered a reward of nineteen horses, the money value of which was deposited with the commander of Fort Laramie, and it was circulated through all the Indian villages, that upon my safe delivery the reward would be paid.

Every effort possible was made by my husband and his brothers to procure my rescue or ransom. No money or efforts were spared, and the long days of agonizing suspense to them were worse than death.

The reward which had been offered for my ransom was the means of rescuing another white woman, a Mrs. Ewbanks, and her child, held by the Indians.

The Indian Two-Face and his son, having a desire to enhance their fortunes, paid a few small sums to the other Indians who claimed her, and, taking her with them, set out for Fort Laramie.

When they arrived within a few miles of the fort, the prisoners were left with the son and some others, while Two-Face preceded them to arrange the terms of sale.

The commander agreed to the price, and on the following day Mrs. Ewbanks and her child were brought in—the Indians thinking it made no difference which white woman it was. This was several months after my capture.

Instead of paying the price, the commandant seized and confined them in the guard-house, to await trial for the murder of the ranch-men and the stealing of women and children. The testimony of Mrs. Ewbanks was proof sufficient. They confessed their crimes, and were executed in May following.

In crossing the North Platte River, five miles below the fort, Mrs. Ewbanks had suffered intensely, her child being bound to her back, and she holding on to a log bound by a rope fastened to the saddle of the Indian’s horse.

The chief passed over easily, but mother and child were nearly frozen to death by clinging and struggling among masses of broken ice, and protected only by a thin, light garment.

Mr. Kelly sent deputations of Indians with horses, to the Indian villages, with letters to me, which were never delivered. They were not true to their trust, but would come to see me without giving me the messages, then return with the declaration that I could not be found.

He would furnish a complete outfit for an Indian, costing about four hundred dollars, and send him to find me; but the Indian cared only for the money; he would never return.

Having despaired of accomplishing any thing further toward my rescue at Fort Laramie, he left for Leavenworth, to obtain help from citizens there, to get permission of the commander of the division to raise an independent company for my release.

There he met with his brother, General Kelly, who had just returned from the South, and had received a letter from me, acquainting him with my freedom.

Mr. Kelly would not at first be convinced, but, after being shown the letter, he said, “Yes, I know that is Fanny’s writing, but it can not be possible,” and by daylight he was on his way to Dakota.

Who can tell his varied emotions, during that long and wearisome journey, when, at the end, hope held out to him the cup of joy which, after the long suffering of months, he was about to drink. Let only those judge who have been separated from the dearest on earth, and whose fate was involved in mysterious silence, more painful than if the pallid face rested beneath the coffin-lid.