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While we know our northern friends may not feel it, in the South, Spring is
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As I have before mentioned, war parties of Cheyenne and Arapaho continued to
make occasional trips through the Ute Pass to the mountains in search of their
enemies, the Ute, until 1864. As these war parties seldom tarried long in this
vicinity, their presence was not seriously objected to during the first two or
three years, but after rumors of impending trouble with them became current,
their visits were looked upon with a good deal of apprehension. From the year
1859 to the beginning of 1863, the wagon trains that brought supplies from the
Missouri River to Colorado came and went without molestation, but it was
noticed, from the latter part of 1862 on, that the Indians of the plains were
anxious to secure guns and ammunition, and were acquiring more than was
necessary for their ordinary hunting. Early in 1863, they began to attack and
rob wagon trains, steal horses, and threaten exposed settlements, but nothing
occurred to cause any great alarm in the immediate Pike's Peak region, until the
spring of 1864. During a very considerable portion of the next four years,
however, the people of El Paso County experienced all the horrors of Indian
warfare.
My story of the Indian troubles of that period will necessarily be much in the
nature of a personal narrative. At the time hostilities began, I was little more
than eighteen years old, and as fond of excitement and adventure as boys at that
age usually are. I had a part in many of the occurrences which I shall mention,
and was personally familiar with the details of most of the others.
About the 20th of June, 1864, word reached Colorado City that a day or two
previously, the Hungate family, living on Running Creek about forty miles
northeast of Colorado City, had been murdered by the Indians. The father and
mother had been shot down and mutilated with horrible brutality, and the
children who had tried to escape had been pursued and killed, so that not one of
the family was left alive. This news made the people of Colorado City, and the
settlers along the Fountain and on the Divide, very uneasy, and of course, after
that, they were constantly on the lookout, not knowing where the savages might
next appear.
Two or three weeks after the murder of the Hungate family, some cattle herders
came into Colorado City late one evening and told of having seen near Austin's
Bluff, a half a dozen mounted Indians who seemed to be acting mysteriously.
Following the killing of the Hungate family, and other acts of hostility at
various places on the plains, this was indeed alarming news. Consequently, early
the following morning an armed party went to the place where the Indians had
been seen, found their trail, and followed it. In this way it was discovered
that, some time during the previous night, the Indians had been on the hill that
overlooks Colorado City on the north, and that the trail from that point led
into the mountains. The direction from which these Indians came, their
mysterious movements after they were discovered, taken in connection with the
recent acts of hostility, and the knowledge that the tribes of the plains had
been attempting during the previous winter to make a coalition for the purpose
of annihilating the settlements along the eastern base of the mountains, seemed
convincing proof that this band was here for no good purpose.
At that time I was living with my father on the west side of Camp Creek, about
halfway between Colorado City and the Garden of the Gods. I had been in town
during the forenoon and had heard the alarming news, and as a result, after that
father and I kept a sharp lookout for the savages. However, the day passed
without anything further having been seen or heard of them. Shortly after
sundown, my brothers Edgar and Frank, who were small boys, brought our cattle in
from the neighborhood of the Garden of the Gods, and while I was helping to
drive them into the corral adjacent to our house, I happened to look up the
valley of Camp Creek, and there, about three-quarters of a mile away, I saw six
mounted Indians leading an extra horse. They were going easterly along the old
Indian trail, which I have heretofore described, that ran just south of the
Garden of the Gods. As soon as I saw these Indians, I was sure that they were
the party which had been trailed into Colorado City the night before. Without
delay I strapped on a revolver, took my gun, and rode to Colorado City as fast
as my pony could travel, to report what I had seen. The people had been greatly
agitated during the day and, consequently, the news I brought caused much
excitement.
It was at once decided that the Indians must be followed, and if possible the
purpose of their visit ascertained. In less than three-quarters of an hour, ten
mounted and well armed men were ready for the pursuit. Those forming the party
were Anthony Bott, Dr. Eggleston, William J. Baird, A. T. Cone, Ren Smith,
myself, and four others whose names I cannot now recall. By a quarter of eight
we were traveling along the trail taken by the Indians across the Mesa east of
the Garden of the Gods. We appreciated the necessity of making as little noise
as possible, and all talking was carried on in an undertone. The trail led from
the Mesa down to Monument Creek, about a mile above the present site of Colorado
Springs, and then crossed the stream over a bed of gravel that extended to the
bluff on the eastern side. Thick clumps of willows enclosed the trail on both
sides. It was a starlight night without clouds, but not light enough for us to
see an object any distance away.
We suspected nothing, as we believed the Indians to be far ahead of us. But just
as we came up on the first rise out of the willows on the east side of the creek
we were startled to see them huddled together on the left of us, under the bank,
apparently getting ready to start a small camp-fire, while to the right were
their ponies, which had been turned out to graze. The Indians were just as much
surprised as we were, and for an instant the situation was extremely tense. As
we refrained from firing, the Indians, knowing that they were at a disadvantage
in not being able to reach their ponies, evidently with the hope of making us
believe that they were friendly, began calling out "How! How!" as Indians
usually do on meeting the whites. We then questioned them, hoping to ascertain
the object of their presence in this locality. Some of our people had a slight
knowledge of Spanish, with which the Indians seemed somewhat conversant, and in
this way and by signs, we told them that we were there only for the purpose of
ascertaining their object in visiting this region, and not to do them harm; that
if they could show that they were here for no hostile purpose, we would permit
them to go on their way unmolested, but in order to establish this fact it would
be necessary for them to go with us to Colorado City, where competent
interpreters could be found, and meanwhile we should require them to give up
their arms. They apparently assented to this proposition, and at once
surrendered such of their arms as were in sight. Six of us then dismounted, and
each took an Indian in charge while he was securing his pony. The Indian I had
in charge was a tall, slim fellow, fully six feet in height and probably not
much over twenty years of age. He appeared to take the situation quietly and I
had no reason to apprehend any trouble with him. I allowed him to lead his pony
to the camp, where he put on the saddle and bridle and mounted the animal, as
all were permitted to do. We then formed the Indians in ranks of twos, placing a
file of our men on each side of them, each white man having charge of the Indian
next to him, which left two extra whites for the front and two to guard the
rear. I was in charge of the Indian on the left side of the rear rank and had
hold of his bridle with my right hand. The order was given to march and we
started east towards the plateau on which Colorado Springs is now built. We had
proceeded only eight or ten feet when the Indians suddenly halted. From the time
they mounted they had been talking animatedly with one another in their own
language. Just then someone happened to see that one of the Indians had a knife
in his hand. This was taken from him and then we made a systematic search of the
others and found that most of them had knives, and one a spear concealed under
his blanket. It was with great difficulty that we twisted these weapons from
their hands, but finally, as we thought, secured everything of that nature. The
order was again given to march. Immediately following this, the Indians gave a
tremendous war-whoop, shook their blankets, and were out from between us before
we realized what was happening. The bridle rein in my hand was jerked away
before I knew it. We were all so dazed that the Indians probably were
seventy-five to one hundred feet away before our people began shooting.
Meantime, my pony, which was of Indian breed, had become almost unmanageable. He
seemed to be determined to go off with the other Indian ponies and I had the
greatest difficulty in restraining him. Before I succeeded, I was so far in
front that I was in great danger of being shot by our own people. By the time I
could get my pony under control, the Indians were too far away for me to shoot
with hope of doing any execution, but during this time the others had been
making such good use of their weapons that in a few minutes the affair was over,
and five of the Indians had fallen from their ponies. Whether they had been
killed or wounded we did not know until some years later. We only knew that
their ponies were running riderless over the plains. It was now about ten
o'clock, and quite dark; consequently we made little effort to locate the dead
and wounded. We rounded up the ponies, there being six of them, one a pack
animal, and after gathering up such of the belongings of the Indians as they had
dropped in their flight, we started on our return to Colorado City.
The whole occurrence made one of the weirdest scenes that it has ever been my
fortune to witness. First the sudden discovery of the Indians in the darkness of
the night; the group formed of the Indians with the whites surrounding them; the
mounting of the ponies; the shrill war-whoop of six savages ringing out in the
solitude, followed by the shots, and then the riderless horses running hither
and thither over the plain. The dramatic scene was completed a few minutes later
by the rounding up of these riderless ponies and the beginning of the march back
to Colorado City over the present town site of Colorado Springs, the only
inhabitants of which at that time were the antelope and the coyotes. Our road
led us over the present College reservation, down what is now Cascade Avenue to
a ford crossing the Monument Creek, just west of the present Rio Grande freight
station.
On the way home, the thought came to us whether we could have done differently
under the circumstances. We knew the tribes to which these Indians belonged were
at war with the whites, and that, unless they were on their way to fight the
Ute, they were here on no peaceable errand so far as our people were concerned.
Their course in going only to the foot of the mountains, showed that they were
not seeking the Ute, and their actions under cover of the previous night, and
afterward, up to the time they were captured, proved conclusively that they were
here as scouts of a larger party, to ascertain and to report the strength of the
town and its surrounding settlements. When first discovered, they were in an
out-of-the-way spot, and from that time on until their capture, they traveled
over abandoned roads and trails, probably hoping in this way to fulfill their
mission without detection. These things convinced us that we had accomplished an
import-ant work, and the only regret we had was that we had not been able to
bring the captives into town.
Early the following morning several of our party returned to the scene of the
occurrence of the night before, hoping to find the bodies of the Indians who
unquestionably had been killed in the melee, but there was nothing to indicate
the struggle excepting a few articles of clothing and personal adornment, and
marks upon the ground showing where the dead and wounded had evidently lain.
Several years afterward, we learned from the Cheyenne that three of this
scouting party had been killed outright, one was so seriously wounded that he
died shortly afterward, another was slightly wounded, and one had escaped
unhurt. The last, with the aid of the one slightly wounded, had carried off and
buried the dead during the night.
News of our evening's experience spread rapidly and created intense excitement
in Colorado City and throughout the county. The people of El Paso County now
realized that they were face to face with Indian troubles of the most serious
nature, and that arrangements for the defense of the town and surrounding
country must immediately be made. The fighting strength of the Pike's Peak
region was exceedingly limited, as compared, with the great horde of savages
that occupied our eastern frontier. Probably there were not over three hundred
men of all ages in El Paso County at that time. And, as further showing the
precarious position of the community, I wish to call attention to the fact that
the frontier settlements of the United States at that time extended but little
west of the Missouri River, leaving the narrow belt of settlements along the
eastern base of the mountains in Colorado separated from the nearest communities
to the east by a stretch of plains at least four hundred miles in width,
inhabited only by wild and savage tribes of nomadic Indians. The same condition
existed on the north to the British possessions, and to the west the Ute Indians
held undisputed sway to the Great Salt Lake valley. To the south, with the
exception of a small part of New Mexico sparsely settled by feeble and widely
scattered communities of Spanish-speaking people, wild tribes roamed over every
portion of the country for hundreds of miles. From the foregoing, it will be
seen that the settlements of Colorado were but a small island -of civilization
in a sea of savagery. Our settlements were at times completely cut off from
civilization in every direction by this cordon of savage tribes; their very
existence was now threatened, with no hope of assistance from the National
Government, because of the civil war which was then at its most critical stage,
demanding every resource of the nation. Threatened as they were by hordes of
hostile savages and under conditions that would have had a disheartening effect
upon a people not inured to frontier life, our settlers had no thought of
allowing themselves to be driven out or overwhelmed.
Warning was at once sent to every family living down the Fountain and on the
Divide, the result being that within a day or two almost every ranch in the
county was abandoned. The people for fifteen miles down the valley below
Colorado City came to that town. Those living below gathered at the extreme
lower edge of the county and there built a place of defense. In Colorado City
the work of constructing a fort around an old log hotel was started at once.
Green pine logs, ten to fifteen inches in diameter and about fifteen feet long,
were cut on the adjacent mountains, brought in, and set in the ground close
together, entirely surrounding the building, making a defensive structure about
twelve feet high. At intervals through these logs portholes were made for use in
repelling an attack. During the next month or two all the women and children of
the town as well as those who had congregated there from the country slept at
night in this fortification. Throughout this time a picket force of three or
four mounted men was maintained night and day on the flat east of the town, and
out on the present site of Colorado Springs. There was scarcely a day during
this period in which Indians were not seen at various points in the country to
the east of Colorado City, and on the borders of the settlements along the
Fountain, but as the people everywhere were watchful, the savages had little
opportunity of catching any one unawares.
About two weeks after the occurrence on Monument Creek, a messenger arrived at
Colorado City, sent by Governor Evans to warn the people of an impending attack
upon the settlements of the Territory by the Cheyenne, Arapaho, and other
hostile Indians. It appears that the Governor had received information from
Elbridge Gerry, one of his secret agents, that eight hundred warriors belonging
to the Cheyenne, Arapahoe, and other hostile Indian tribes, were in camp at the
Point of Rocks near the head of Beaver Creek in eastern Colorado, and had
planned a simultaneous attack upon the frontier settlements of Colorado
extending from a point in the valley of the Platte River one hundred miles below
Denver, to the Arkansas River at the mouth of the Fontaine qui Bouille.
According to the program agreed upon by the Indians, one hundred warriors were
to go to the valley of the Platte, two hundred and fifty to the head of Cherry
Creek, and the remainder of the eight hundred to the valley of the Fountain and
Arkansas rivers. On reaching the appointed localities, these parties were to be
divided into small bands, each one of which was to attack a farmhouse, kill the
occupants, loot the property, and run off the stock.
Elbridge Gerry, from whom the information of the proposed raid was received, was
the grandson of a signer of the Declaration of Independence, and although an
educated man, had lived with the Indians for a good many years and had married a
Cheyenne woman. At this time, he was living with his Indian wife on a stock
ranch in the valley of the Platte River, sixty to seventy miles below Denver. It
was here that the information reached him, through two Cheyenne chiefs, who came
to warn him of the impending danger. Gerry received the word about midnight and
early next morning started on horseback for Denver to notify Governor Evans,
arriving there about eleven o'clock that night, having ridden the sixty or
seventy miles without resting. As the date set for the raid was but a day or two
off, Governor Evans at once dispatched messengers in every direction to notify
the people. The one sent to Colorado City reached that place the next
after-noon, and warning was immediately sent by messengers to the few ranchmen
down the Fountain and east of Colorado City, who for urgent reasons had been
compelled temporarily to return to their homes.
The following day, small bands of Indians appeared along the entire frontier of
El Paso County, but their raid was a failure, as the warnings given through the
occurrence on Monument Creek, and that of the Governor, had put every one on
guard; consequently the savages found that the settlers at every point had
either fled, or were fully prepared to defend themselves.
That the information given by Gerry was absolutely correct, was shown by the
fact that at the appointed time the Indians appeared along the entire frontier
of Colorado, from the Platte to the Arkansas River. However, in almost every
locality, as in El Paso County, they found the settlers on the lookout,
consequently, the wholesale slaughter planned did not take place. After killing
one man near Fort Lupton, below Denver, two or three near the head of Cherry
Creek, and stealing many cattle, the larger part of the Indians returned to
their rendezvous out on the plains, leaving a few warriors along the borders to
harass the settlers during the remainder of the summer.
The Point of Rocks on Beaver Creek, where the eight hundred Indians were in
camp, is about one hundred miles northeast of Colorado City. It is practically
certain that the Indians we captured on Monument Creek two or three weeks
previous were from that camp and had been sent out to secure information
concerning the settlers of this region, preparatory to the raid they were then
planning. There is every probability that an awful calamity would have befallen
the settlers of this county had not the discovery, capture, and escape of these
scouts aroused our people to a full realization of their impending danger. Had
the news brought by the messenger from the Governor been our first warning, it
would have been impossible after his arrival to have brought any considerable
portion of our scattered settlers into Colorado City before the appearance of
the Indians.
Governor Evans, in telling of this incident in his evidence before the Committee
on the Conduct of the War, in March, 1865, expressed the opinion that had the
plan of the Indians been carried out without previous notice having been given
to the settlers, it would have resulted in the most whole-sale and extensive
massacre that has ever been known. It was most fortunate for our people that
timely notice was given in such an effective manner, because in those days news
traveled slowly. Weekly mails were then the only method of disseminating news,
as telegraph lines had not yet reached this part of the Territory, nor was there
a newspaper published in the county; consequently news of Indian raids and
outbreaks in other parts of the Territory often was a week or more in reaching
El Paso County. Early realizing that they must depend upon their own resources,
so far as I can see, the people of El Paso County took all necessary
precautions, and acted wisely in every emergency.
One day early in September, 1864, a company of the First Colorado Cavalry on its
way from one of the forts in New Mexico to Denver stopped for the noon meal at
Jimmy's Camp, about ten miles east of Colorado City. Not having seen any Indians
on the march, both officers and men were exceedingly skeptical as to there being
any in this region, and had made sport of the settlers for being so
unnecessarily alarmed. Upon making camp, the soldiers turned their horses,
numbering from seventy-five to one hundred, out to graze, placing only one
trooper in charge of them. The horses in their grazing gradually drifted farther
and farther away from camp, until finally when they were almost half a mile
distant, a band of Indians suddenly came tearing out of the timber just above
and almost before the soldiers realized it they had rounded up the herd and were
off over the hills, yelling back taunts as they rode away. The soldiers came
marching into Colorado City on foot the next day, a dejected lot, and as they
passed, it gave the settlers great pleasure to jeer at them.
