That night we dug a system of rifle pits all along the barricades on the outside, and manned them with three or four men each, but the firing was desultory through the night, and nothing much was accomplished on either side.
The next morning (Sunday) opened bright and beautiful, but scarcely an Indian was to be seen. They had given up the contest, and were rapidly retreating northward up the river. We got an occasional shot at one, but without effect except to hasten the retreat. And so ended the second and decisive battle of New Ulm.
In this fight between ourselves and the enemy we burned one hundred and ninety buildings, many of them substantial and valuable structures. The whites lost some fourteen killed and fifty or sixty wounded. The loss of the enemy is uncertain, but after the fight we found ten dead Indians in burned houses, and in chaparral where they escaped the notice of their friends. As to their wounded we knew nothing, but judging from the length and character of the engagement, and the number of their dead found, their casualties must have equalled, if not exceeded ours.
About noon of Sunday, the 24th, Capt. E. St. Julien Cox arrived with a company from St. Peter, which had been sent by Colonel Sibley to reinforce us. Lieutenant Huey, who had been cut off at the ferry on the previous day, accompanied him with a portion of his command. They were welcome visitors.
There were in the town at the time of the attack on the 23d, as near as can be learned, from 1,200 to 1,500 noncombatants, consisting of women and children, refugees and unarmed citizens, all of whose lives depended upon our success. It is difficult to conceive a much more exciting stake to play for, and the men seemed fully to appreciate it, and made no mistakes.
On the 25th we found that provisions and ammunition were becoming scarce, and pestilence being feared from stench and exposure, we decided to evacuate the town and try to reach Mankato. This destination was chosen to avoid the Minnesota river, the crossing of which we deemed impracticable. The only obstacle between us and Mankato was the Big Cottonwood river, which was fordable. We made up a train of 153 wagons, which had largely composed our barricades, loaded them with women and children, and about eighty wounded men, and started. A more heart-rending procession was never witnessed in America. Here was the population of one of the most flourishing towns in the state abandoning their homes and property, starting on a journey of thirty odd miles, through a hostile country, with a possibility of being massacred on the way, and no hope or prospect but the hospitality of strangers and ultimate beggary. The disposition of the guard was confided to Captain Cox. The march was successful; no Indians were encountered. We reached Crisp's farm, which was about half way between New Ulm and Mankato, about evening. I pushed the main column on, fearing danger from various sources, but camped at this point with about 150 men, intending to return to New Ulm, or hold this point as a defensive measure for the exposed settlements further down the river. On the morning of the 26th we broke camp, and I endeavored to make the command return to New Ulm or remain where they were—my object, of course, being to keep an armed force between the enemy and the settlements. The men had not heard a word from their families for more than a week, and declined to return or remain. I did not blame them. They had demonstrated their willingness to fight when necessary, but held the protection of their families as paramount to mere military possibilities. I would not do justice to history did I not record, that, when I called for volunteers to return, Captain Cox and his whole squad stepped to the front, ready to go where I commanded. Although I had not then heard of Captain Marsh's disaster, I declined to allow so small a command as that of Captain Cox to attempt the reoccupation of New Ulm. My staff stood by me in this effort, and a gentleman from Le Sueur county, Mr. Freeman Talbott, made an impressive speech to the men, to induce them to return. The train arrived safely at Mankato on the 25th, and the balance of the command on the following day, whence the men generally sought their homes.
I immediately, on arriving at Mankato, went to St. Peter, to inform Colonel Sibley of the condition of things in the Indian country. I found him, on the night of August 26th, in camp about six miles out of St. Peter, and put him in possession of everything that had happened to the westward. His mounted men arrived at Fort Ridgely on the 27th of August, and were the first relief that reached that fort after its long siege. Sibley reached the fort on the 28th of August. Intrenchments were thrown up about the fort, cannon properly placed, and a strong guard maintained. All but ninety men of the Cullen Guard, under Captain Anderson, returned home as soon as they found the fort was safe. The garrison was soon increased by the arrival of forty-seven men under Captain Sterritt, and on the 1st of September, Lieut. Col. William R. Marshall of the Seventh Regiment arrived, with a portion of his command. This force could not make a forward movement on account of a lack of ammunition and provisions, which were long delayed.