On the 20th of August, at about 3 p. m., an attack was made upon the fort by a large body of Indians. The first intimation the garrison had of the assault was a volley poured through one of the openings between the buildings. Considerable confusion ensued, but order was soon restored. Sergeant Jones attempted to use his cannon, but to his utter dismay, he found them disabled. This was the work of some of the half-breeds belonging to the Renville Rangers, who had deserted to the enemy. They had been spiked by ramming old rags into them. The sergeant soon rectified this difficulty, and brought his pieces into action. The attack lasted three hours, when it ceased, with a loss to the garrison of three killed and eight wounded.
On Thursday, the 21st, two further attacks were made on the fort, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, but with a reduced force, less earnestness, and little damage. On Friday, the 22d, the savages seemed determined to carry the fort. About eight hundred or more, under the leadership of Little Crow, came down from the agency. Concentrating themselves in the ravines which lay on several sides of the fort, they made a feint, by sending about twenty warriors out on the prairie for the purpose of drawing out the garrison from the fort, and cutting them off. Such a movement, if successful, would have been fatal to the defenders; but fortunately there were men among them of much experience in Indian warfare, who saw through the scheme, and prevented the success of the maneuver. Then followed a shower of bullets on the fort from all directions. The attack was continued for nearly five hours. It was bitterly fought, and courageously and intelligently resisted. Sergeant Jones and other artillerists handled the guns with effective skill, exploding shells in the outlying buildings, and burning them over the heads of the Indians, while the enemy endeavored to burn the wooden buildings composing the fort, by shooting fire arrows on their roofs. One of the most exposed and dangerous duties to be performed was covering the wooden roofs with earth to prevent fire. One white man was killed and seven wounded in this engagement. Lieutenant Sheehan, who commanded the post through all these trying occurrences, Lieutenant Gorman, of the Renville Rangers, Lieutenant Whipple, and Sergeants Jones and McGrew, all did their duty in a manner becoming veterans, and the men seconded their efforts handsomely. The Indians, after this effort, being convinced that they could not take the fort, and anticipating the coming of reinforcements, withdrew, and, concentrating all their available forces, descended upon New Ulm the next morning, August 23d, for a final struggle. In the official history (written for the state) of this battle at Fort Ridgely, I place the force of the Indians as 450, but have learned since from reliable sources that it was as above stated.
BATTLE OF NEW ULM.
We left New Ulm, after the arrival of the various companies which I have named on the 21st of August, strengthening its barricades and awaiting events. I had placed a good glass on the top of one of the stone buildings within the barricades for the purpose of observation, and always kept a sentinel there to report any movement he should discover in any direction throughout the surrounding country. We had heard distinctly the cannonading at the fort for the past two days, but knew nothing of the result of the fight at that point. I was perfectly familiar, as were many of my command, with the country between New Ulm and the fort, on both sides of the river, knowing the house of every settler on the roads.
Saturday, the 23d of August, opened bright and beautiful, and early in the morning we saw column after column of smoke rise in the direction of the fort, each smoke being nearer than the last. We knew to a certainty that the Indians were approaching in force, burning every building and grain or hay stack they passed. The settlers had either all been killed, or had taken refuge at the fort or New Ulm, so we had no anxiety about them. About 9:30 a. m. the enemy appeared in great force, on both sides of the river. Those on the east side, when they reached the neighborhood of the ferry, burned some stacks as a signal of their arrival, which was responded to by a similar fire in the edge of the timber, about two miles and a half from the town on the west side. Between this timber and the town, was a beautiful open prairie, with considerable descent towards the town. Immediately on seeing the smoke from the ferry the enemy advanced rapidly, some six hundred strong, many mounted and the rest on foot. I had determined to meet them on the open prairie, and had formed my men by companies in a long line of battle, with intervals between them, on the first level plateau on the west side of the town, thus covering its whole west front. There were not over twenty or thirty rifles in the whole command, and a man with a shotgun, knowing his antagonist carries a rifle, has very little confidence in his fighting ability. Down came the Indians in the bright sunlight, galloping, running, yelling, and gesticulating in the most fiendish manner. If we had had good rifles they never would have got near enough to do much harm, but as it was we could not check them before their fire began to tell on our line. They deployed to the right and left until they covered our entire front, and then charged. My men, appreciating the inferiority of their armament, after seeing several of their comrades fall, and having fired a few ineffectual volleys, fell back on the town, passing some buildings without taking possession of them, which mistake was instantly taken advantage of by the Indians, who at once occupied them, but they did not follow us into the town proper, no doubt thinking our retreat was a feint to draw them among the buildings, and thus gain an advantage. I think if they had boldly charged into the town and set it on fire, they would have won the fight; but, instead, they surrounded it on all sides, the main body taking possession of the lower end of the main street below the barricades, from which direction a strong wind was blowing towards the center of the town. From this point they began firing the houses on both sides of the street. We soon rallied the men, and kept the enemy well in the outskirts of the town, and the fighting became general on all sides. Just about this time, my first lieutenant, William B. Dodd, galloped down the main street, and as he passed a cross street the Indians put three or four bullets through him. He died during the afternoon, after having been removed several times from house to house as the enemy crowded in upon us.
On the second plateau, there was an old Don Quixote windmill, with an immense tower and sail-arms about seventy-five feet long, which occupied a commanding position, and had been taken possession of by a company of about thirty men, who called themselves the Le Sueur Tigers, most of whom had rifles. They barricaded themselves with sacks of flour and wheat, loopholed the building and kept the savages at a respectful distance from the west side of the town. A rifle ball will bury itself in a sack of flour or wheat, but will not penetrate it. During the battle the men dug out several of them, and brought them to me because they were the regulation Minie bullet, and there had been rumors that the Confederates from Missouri had stirred up the revolt and supplied the Indians with guns and ammunition. I confess I was astonished when I saw the bullets, as I knew the Indians had no such arms, but I soon decided that they were using against us the guns and ammunition they had taken from the dead soldiers of Captain Marsh's company. I do not believe the Confederates had any hand in the revolt of these Indians.
We held several other outposts, being brick buildings outside the barricades, which we loopholed, and found very effective in holding the Indians aloof. The battle raged generally all around the town, every man doing his best in his own way. It was a very interesting fight on account of the stake we were contending for. We had in the place about twelve or fifteen hundred women and children, the lives of all of whom, and of ourselves, depended upon victory perching on our banners; for in a fight like this, no quarter is ever asked or given. The desperation with which the conflict was conducted can be judged from the fact that I lost sixty men in the first hour and a half, ten killed and fifty wounded, out of less than 250, as my force had been depleted by the number of about seventy-five by Lieutenant Huey taking that number to guard the approach to the ferry. Crossing to the other side of the river he was cut off, and forced to retreat toward St. Peter. It was simply a mistake of judgment to put the river between himself and the main force, but in his retreat he met Capt. E. St. Julian Cox, with reinforcements for New Ulm, joined them, and returned the next day. He was a brave and willing officer. The company I mentioned as having arrived from South Bend, having heard that the Winnebagoes had joined in the outbreak, left us before the final attack on Saturday, the 23d of August, claiming that their presence at home was necessary to protect their families, and on the morning of the 23d, when the enemy was in sight, a wagon load of others left us and went down the river. I doubt if we could have mustered over two hundred guns at any time during the fight.
The enemy, seeing his advantage in firing the buildings in the lower part of the main street, and thus gradually nearing our barricades with the intention of burning us out, kept up his work as continuously as he could with the interruptions we made for him by occasionally driving him out; but his approach was constant, and about 2 o'clock a roaring conflagration was raging on both sides of the street, and the prospect looked discouraging. At this juncture Asa White, an old frontiersman, connected with the Winnebagoes, whom I had known for a long time, and whose judgment and experience I appreciated and valued, came to me and said: "Judge, if this goes on, the Indians will bag us in about two hours." I said: "It looks that way; what remedy have you to suggest." His answer was, "We must make for the cottonwood timber." Two miles and a half lay between us and the timber referred to, which, of course, rendered his suggestion utterly impracticable with two thousand noncombatants to move, and I said: "White, they would slaughter us like sheep should we undertake such a movement. Our strongest hold is in this town, and if you will get together fifty volunteers, I will drive the Indians out of the lower town and the greatest danger will be passed." He saw at once the propriety of my proposition, and in a short time we had a squad ready, and sallied out, cheering and yelling in a manner that would have done credit to the wildest Comanches. We knew the Indians were congregated in force down the street, and expected to find them in a sunken road, about three blocks from where we started, but they had worked their way up much nearer to us, and were in a deep swale about a block and a half from our barricades. There was a large number of them, estimated at about seventy-five to one hundred, some on ponies and some on foot. When the conformation of the ground disclosed their whereabouts, we were within one hundred feet of them. They opened a rapid fire on us, which we returned, while keeping up our rushing advance. When we were within fifty feet of them, they turned and fled down the street. We followed them for at least half a mile, firing as well as we could. This took us beyond the burning houses, and finding a large collection of saw logs, I called a halt and we took cover among them, lying flat on the ground. The Indians stopped when we ceased to chase them, and took cover behind anything that afforded protection, and kept up an incessant fire upon us whenever a head or hand showed itself above the logs. We held them, however, in this position, and prevented their return toward the town by way of the street. I at once sent a party back with instructions to burn every building, fence, stack or other object that would afford cover between us and the barricades. This order was strictly carried out, and by six or seven o'clock there was not a structure standing outside of the barricades in that part of the town. We then abandoned our saw logs and returned to the town, and the day was won, the Indians not daring to charge us over an open country. I lost four men killed in this exploit, one of whom was especially to be regretted. I speak of Newell Houghton. In ordinary warfare, all men stand for the same value as a general thing; but in an Indian fight, a man of cool head, an exceptionally fine shot, and armed with a reliable rifle, is a loss doubly to be regretted. Houghton was famous as being the best shot and deer hunter in all the Northwest, and had with him his choice rifle. He had built a small steamboat with the proceeds of his gun, and we all held him in high respect as a fine type of frontiersman. We had hardly got back to the town before a man brought me a rifle which he had found on the ground near a clump of brush, and handing it to me said, "Some Indian lost a good gun in that run." It happened that White was with me, and saw the gun. He recognized it in an instant, and said: "Newell Houghton is dead. He never let that gun out of his hands while he could hold it." We looked where the gun was picked up, and found Houghton dead in the brush. He had been scalped by some Indian who had seen him fall, and had sneaked back and scalped him.