Ten years in the ranks, U.S. Army

by Augustus Meyers

But there was enough that was amusing going on at the post to make the memory of my punishment soon lose its sting. For example, there was one man in my company, an old soldier of the Mexican War, who would sometimes take a drink too much. This always made him maudlin and melancholy. At such times he always spoke of the "beautiful senoritas," as he called them. Tears would come into his eyes when he told us the charmers called him "Senor Patrucio Martino". Then he would say with a sob, "Look at me! What am I now? Nothing but plain Paddy Martin," and burst into a flood of tears.

The winter was much milder than the two preceding ones. There were some bitterly cold days during January and February, yet we were quite comfortable. We had plenty to eat and a variety. The general health of all the soldiers was exceedingly good. We got up amusements to pass the time. There were some negro employees in the Quartermaster's Department who could sing plantation songs for us. One of them, a coal black negro who had been on the frontiers for a number of years with the Fur Company, was married to a squaw and had several children who were curious specimens of the human race, combining the most prominent features of the Indian and the negro. Both the father and the mother seemed very proud of them, however.

The Indian camp, of easy access to the garrison, always proved interesting. Its population was sometimes increased by visitors from the large Ponca Village, and from a Yankton village not far away. I spent much of my time with the Indians, as I had done two winters previous at Cantonment Miller.

In April, after the breaking up of the ice on the Missouri and the melting of the snow, flocks of wild ducks and geese made their appearance. For a time they came in incredible numbers and we managed to get all we wanted of them.

A man of my company named Jack Lynch, who had a habit of prowling about the country alone, showed us a spoonful of gold dust that he said he had found during his wanderings, but did not tell us where. About this time there were articles in the papers about the discovery of gold in the Black Hills, some hundreds of miles to the west of us; and we saw no good reason why gold should not exist in the bleak hills about Fort Randall. Our man brought in more samples of gold. He was watched and was discovered washing gold in a ravine, through which a small water course ran down from the hills a mile or more south of the fort.

Then excitement ran high. Crowds of soldiers went prospecting and washing gold. Places were discovered where it was more plentiful. In fact, too plentiful, for some of the more industrious quickly accumulated a considerable quantity of it. I had about a pint of it myself. Games of poker were played in the quarters evenings, at which the stakes were gold dust measured out in thimblefuls. Others hoarded their wealth and guarded it jealously. Hope of riches within our grasp warmed our hearts and cheered us.

The excitement had reached a high pitch, when, about a week after our "gold digging" started, some one thought of submitting a sample of the gold dust to the hospital steward, who had the necessary acids for a test. He promptly declared the stuff to be pyrites or "fools' gold". Some of the men were bitterly disappointed, others laughed. The discoverer and a few more, however, clung to their "gold dust". They believed that it was valuable until they got a report from St. Louis—where they had sent a sample to be assayed—which confirmed the hospital steward's opinion. After a while some of the soldiers began to think that Jack Lynch might have been playing a huge joke on us. He was a peculiar man in many ways, and was the possessor of a pair of eyes that did not match, one of them being light blue and the other dark gray.

During the early spring of 1858, we read much in the newspapers about the Mountain Meadow massacre in Utah in 1857, by Indians instigated by the Mormons. A large party of emigrants had been annihilated, except a few small children, and Col. Albert Sidney Johnson was gathering troops at Fort Bridger, Utah, to punish the Mormons. We also read about trouble on the border line between Missouri and Kansas Territory. Kansas desired to become a "free state," while the Missourians, together with some adherents in the territory, wanted it to become a "slave state." This led to many atrocities on the border line, where people were being driven off their farms and murdered by a gang called the "Border Ruffians."

Soon a rumor spread that some of the companies at Fort Randall would be withdrawn to serve either in Kansas or Utah, and presently an order arrived to send two companies to report at Fort Leavenworth, as soon as transportation by steamboat could be had. For this service my own company and Captain Lyon's Company B were selected. We were ordered to prepare ourselves in light marching order, leaving behind us all of our full dress uniforms, and other articles not required on a campaign. We also left behind us the alcoholic second lieutenant, who managed to be excused from going and remained at Fort Randall on duty with some other company. The officers' and soldiers' wives and children also remained. Captain Gardner and Lieutenant O'Connoll of my company and Captain Lyon and a lieutenant of Company B were the only officers to go.

We waited impatiently for a steamboat to arrive. She did not appear until near the middle of May, and with her came a paymaster who gave us eight months' pay before our departure. When the boat was unloaded and all was ready, we formed on the parade ground and, escorted by the band, marched to the boat. Among those who watched our departure were a number of Indians and squaws from the camp.