In late 1865, a perilous journey along the Smoky Hill Trail in Kansas unfolded, vividly chronicled in a dispatch to the New York Times. This account details a harrowing encounter with Native American tribes, highlighting the ever-present dangers faced by travelers on the American frontier. The incident, involving a Butterfield Overland Despatch coach and its passengers, underscores the volatile landscape of the West.
The Initial Threat and Departure from Monument Station
The journey began under the shadow of recent violence. A previous report had detailed murders and depredations along the Smoky Hill Trail, attributed to a band of Cheyenne warriors led by a chief named “Fast Bear.” Despite these threats, a Butterfield Overland Despatch coach, carrying General Brewster and several other passengers, departed Chalk Bluff Station on November 23, 1865. Accompanied by a cavalry escort, they arrived safely at Monument Station that evening, finding a sense of temporary security within its military post. A large wagon train with infantry escort was also en route to Pond Creek, a military outpost located approximately 25 miles to the west.
The following morning, the party continued its journey towards Denver, Colorado. They were joined by an ambulance carrying Surgeon N.L. Whipple, who had been to Chalk Bluff to tend to soldiers wounded in a recent Indian attack. Colonel William Tamblyn, overseeing the journey, seemed confident in the safety of their small escort of eight men: three with the doctor in the ambulance and five mounted men riding ahead of the coach.
An Unforeseen Ambush and Spirited Defense
The morning passed without incident, and the party was nearing the station when an ambulance driver, taking a shortcut, veered from the main road. Suddenly, Mr. Davis of Harper’s Weekly spotted a squad of Indians charging towards them, approximately 1500 yards away. He immediately raised the alarm and opened fire with his Ballard rifle. General Brewster, Mr. Hasbrock, and Mr. Perrin joined the defense, with General Brewster leading the charge and Mr. Perrin firing his revolver from outside the coach. Armed with Ballard guns, the passengers managed to drive off the initial attackers, leaving two Indians bearing the mark of their defense. The coach driver, without stopping, quickly brought the team to the station. Upon dismounting, they discovered another party of Indians had stampeded the grazing horses and mules near the station.
One stock tender, attempting to gather the mules, was pursued by an Indian. Mr. Davis, with his rifle, intervened, firing a shot that ended the pursuit and saved the tender. While the man was safe, the valuable stock, including five cavalry horses, were lost. The small garrison of ten men from the 13th Missouri Cavalry at the station had five members away on a buffalo hunt, thus their horses were spared. The travelers, congratulating themselves on their escape, then realized the grave danger facing Doctor Whipple and his ambulance, which was now being pursued by 15-20 Indians.
The Doctor’s Harrowing Escape
The chase for the ambulance was intense and unfolded beyond the reach of any immediate assistance. The four remaining cavalrymen were dispatched to aid the fugitives. From a half-mile distant crest, the men from the ambulance were seen running towards the cavalrymen, signaling their safety. Doctor Whipple recounted the terrifying ordeal: “I had just left you when I thought that it might be a little imprudent, but I kept on. We were so near the station, and there were no signs of the Indians.” This sense of security was shattered when “a number of the red n*****s coming yelling after us, frightening the mules so that we could not turn them back toward the station.”
As the attackers closed in, they fired their revolvers at the ambulance. The doctor and his companions held their fire, waiting until the Indians were within close range. Their shots had a temporary deterrent effect, but the Indians soon renewed their pursuit. Realizing escape in the ambulance was impossible, they abandoned the vehicle and ran towards the cavalrymen. The Indians immediately gave chase, making their run “very interesting for a short time.” When exhaustion set in, they turned, fired a few more shots, and forced the Indians to pause. They eventually reached the cavalrymen, mounted behind them, and returned to the station. The doctor admitted to being in a “slightly mixed state” after the ordeal. During this chase, the station’s defenders observed Indians emerging from all directions, confirming they were completely surrounded. Their immediate concern shifted to defending their position.
Fortifying Pond Creek Station
The soldiers at Pond Creek Station had wisely constructed a bomb-proof fortress, dug into the hillside, complete with a covered rifle pit. This sturdy earthwork became the refuge for the 21 persons, now variously armed, following the doctor’s arrival. The absence of horses meant they could not mount a counter-attack, a frustration palpable as they watched the Indians loot and then set fire to the abandoned ambulance in a nearby ravine. Simultaneously, the attackers set the prairie ablaze, nearly succeeding in burning out the defenders. A quick war council affirmed their decision to stand their ground together.
Anxiety mounted for the five men who had gone buffalo hunting. A careful watch was maintained, ready to move and assist them should they approach, preventing the Indians from engaging them unassisted. Soon, a small body of mounted men was sighted, presumed to be the returning hunters. However, from a distance, the Indians discovered them and gave chase. The small squad, which turned out to be the hunters, galloped off towards the next station, Eaton Springs. The decision was made to remain within the mud fort until the next day, awaiting the arrival of a government train with its infantry escort, which would ensure safe passage.
Night Watch and Indian Warfare Tactics
The makeshift fort, with its roof of boughs and earth supported by sturdy posts, offered a measure of comfort and protection, strong enough to withstand Indians riding over it. As night fell, a guard was organized, with seven men on duty for four-hour shifts. The first relief, including the main party and an additional soldier, opted against walking a regular beat. Recognizing the Indians’ stealth and use of arrows, each guard took a specific post to command the best possible view of their immediate surroundings. An hour after dark, a distinctive whirring noise was heard overhead—the sound of arrows being shot over their position, a common tactic to locate the hidden guards. The Indians, unable to pinpoint their location, eventually left them in quiet possession of their “dobe.” The entire garrison was roused before daylight, preparing for an anticipated attack that ultimately did not materialize. The article noted that Indians favored two times for attack: at daybreak, when white men sleep soundest, and at midday, when confidence in broad daylight might lead to relaxed guard. The author also observed that Indians, likened to wolves, were “cowardly in the extreme” when their enemy, however outnumbered, was ready and willing to fight, but could be crueler than imagined.
Arrival of Reinforcements and Continued Peril
The sentinel soon reported
