Listing Through Life

Fort Phil Kearny needed wood for construction, cooking, and heat. Wood-cutting crews were frequently attacked by bands of Sioux, Cheyenne and Arapaho Indians led by Red Cloud. Some estimates put the size of the Indian camp at 2,000 warriors plus their families. In the five months since the fort had been established in July, 70 soldiers and civilians had been killed.

On December 21, 1866, gunshots were heard at the fort. Col. Carrington sent Captain William J. Fetterman and a force of infantry to rescue the timber cutters. These men had spent their time at the post building the fort and had little experience or training in military maneuvers. At the last minute, a small cavalry detail led byLt.George W. Grummond asked to go along with Fetterman. Carrington gave Fetterman strict instructions not to cross Lodge Trail Ridge, about two miles from the fort.

Fetterman was apparently attempting to get between the Indians and their camp. He didn’t know that Red Cloud was preparing a trap. A small band of Indians showed themselves on the far side of Lodge Trail Ridge, and the impulsive Grummond raced after them. As soon as the cavalry got far enough away from the infantry, the trap was sprung. An overwhelming number of Indians stood up from hiding places on both sides and surrounded them. Fetterman may have taken his men down from the ridge to try to help Grummond, but both forces were soon surrounded. Fetterman and all 80 soldiers and civilians with him were killed. The battle was over within 30 minutes. The Indians stripped and mutilated the bodies.

Looking north along Massacre Hill from the monument.

Looking south along the hill. The monument is in the distance where the abandoned road crosses the ridge. Lodge Trail Ridge is just beyond. Fort Phil Kearny is about two miles on the other side of the ridge.

Pretty much the same shot, but including a pan to the right that shows the Bighorn Mountains.

Looking northwest from Massacre Hill. If I understand the battle correctly, the cavalry had charged down the valley and then retreated onto the hill when attacked.

Looking north along the hill from the approximate area where one of the groups of bodies was found. If you follow the ridge past the tree as it curves to the left and then ends about 100 yards further on, you’ll see where the cavalry soldiers died.

The exact details aren’t known because there were no Army survivors. All that is known of the battle is from analysis of the bodies and a few Indian accounts. The bodies were found in four groups along what is now known as Massacre Hill. Carrington sent out another force under Captain Tenodor Ten Eyck. From the top of Lodge Trail Ridge, Ten Eyck could see the huge number of Indians. The Indians taunted him to come down, but he stayed where he was.

Looking back south toward the monument. Ten Eyck and his men stayed on the portion of Lodge Trail Ridge on the far left of the photo until the Indians left the field.

A seldom-used trail leads from the monument along Massacre Hill. I walked about two-thirds of the way — far enough to see what there was to see. It was a breezy afternoon, and I had the place to myself most of the time.

Even on a clear, beautiful summer day, it felt like a lonely place to die. I can’t imagine what it felt like for the soldiers who died there on a brutal winter day. I also can’t imagine that the Indians wore no protection from the weather as shown in this painting of the battle.

After the Fetterman Fight on December 21, 1866, the Army made a few changes. For one, they stationed a company under Captain James W. Powell at a forward position to protect the wood cutters. For another, they armed the soldiers with breech-loading rifles that could fire 15-20 rounds a minute. This was significant because the Indians had developed a battle strategy based on older muzzle-loading rifles. Even the best soldiers could only fire a muzzle-loader about three times a minute. Most soldiers weren’t nearly that well trained and could only get off a shot about once a minute. The Indians would wait for a soldier to fire his rifle and then charge before he could reload.

On August 2, 1867, Powell sent part of his force to the west to protect the wood cutters. He sent another group of soldiers to escort a load of wood back to Fort Phil Kearny, about six miles away. That left Powell with 26 soldiers, including Lt. Jenness, and two civilians at their “fort.” This fort was built by removing the boxes from wagons and arranging them in an oval. The gaps were filled with bags of grain, barrels, and anything else handy. The enclosure was about 60 feet long and 30 feet wide.

Expecting an easy victory, a huge force of Indians attacked the wood cutters camp and the wagon box fort. They captured the camp’s mule herd and burned the tents. Three soldiers and four civilians were killed. The rest of the men managed to get back to Fort Phil Kearny or hide in the woods.

Another large group of Indians attacked the wagon box fort. The first charge was on horseback, but the rapid firing of the men in the wagons drove them back. Several more attacks were made on foot. A few Indians got as close as five feet to the wagons, but none made it into the enclosure. Lt. Jenness and two soldiers were killed. Three hours after the attack began, a relief force arrived with a howitzer and chased the Indians away. There is great debate about how man Indians died. Estimate range from a low of 6 to a high of over a thousand. The surviving soldiers reported that the ground around the wagons was covered with Indian dead, so 6 sounds pretty ridiculous. Based on everything I’ve ever read about Indian fighting, I find 1,000 tough to believe too.

I drove to the site on a dirt road through a valley. There were several nice houses scattered along the way. I’m guessing the area is close enough to Sheridan for people to live there and work in the town. The battlefield is on a knoll covered with wildflowers. By this time, I had pretty much decided I wanted to live in Wyoming. It’s beautiful and empty. I wasn’t completely alone. A woman had parked in the lot to walk her dog on the nearby road and two young guys with atvs stopped by briefly. There wasn’t much to see — just the monument, a wagon box, and pink plastic posts marking the outline of the enclosure.

When I left Fort Fetterman, it was nearing lunchtime. My plan was to stop somewhere in Casper, but I wasn’t sure what I was in the mood for. I didn’t see anything inviting at the first exit south of the city. And then, before I knew it, I was through the city and still unfed. I have a thing against backtracking. There was a gas station at the last exit before I left civilization, so I pulled in for gas and a few snacks. I figured I could grab something at the next town. The next town turned out to be Buffalo, 120 miles away. By this time I wasn’t picky. I grabbed a burger at McDonald’s and ate it on the short drive to my next stop.

Fort Phil Kearny was built in 1866 as one of the posts created to protect settlers on the Bozeman Trail. It’s thought that another motive was to distract Indians from the construction of the transcontinental railroad further south. The fort was named for a Union general killed during the Civil War. The fort was stockaded to enclose 17 acres inside an 8-foot wall. The curator in the museum told me it was the largest stockaded fort in the west. Some said the commanding officer Colonel Henry Carrington should have spent less time building the fort and more time training his men — many of whom were new recruits. The photo below is a diorama of the fort in the visitor center.

The Sioux, Cheyenne, and Arapaho Indians were very active around the fort. Two major battles (next posts) and several skirmishes were fought in the immediate area. By 1868, the railroad was completed. That, and the Treaty of 1868 resulted in the abandonment of the fort which was soon burnt down by Indians.

The major problem with the location of the fort was the lack of available timber, both for building the fort and for fuel for cooking and eating. Logging details had to be sent four miles west to the foothills of the Bighorn Mountains for pine. These details were frequently attacked by hostile Indians. The route to the logging areas ran along Sullivant Hill to the northwest of the fort so that soldiers could have a vantage point to look for Indians. On the brochure map below, you can see how close to the fort the battles occurred.

I went inside the visitor center to pay my $3 fee and found it dark. The curator said the power had just gone off. He told me to look around outside, and if the lights weren’t back on by the time I returned, he wouldn’t charge me.

Nothing remains of the fort. Portions of the stockade on one side and in the far corners  have been rebuilt. I wandered the path around the parade grounds. A second section of the fort to the south, built to house animals and civilian workers, is on private ground and not open. There really wasn’t much to see, but the surrounding area was beautiful.

On the left of this next photo, you can see a conical hill. It’s part of Lodge Trail Ridge and it can also be seen in some of my photos from the Fetterman Battlefield (next post).

The fort cemetery was on the side of Pilot Knob on the far side of Little Piney Creek.

Signalmen were stationed on top of Pilot Knob to watch for Indian activity in the area. There is now a silhouette of a soldier with a flag on the hill.

I took this photo on the parade grounds looking east. The row of trees mark Piney Creek. The southeast corner of the fort is marked with the small section of stockade.

This photo shows how big the fort was. I took it looking diagonally from the northwest corner toward the southeast corner. The same section of stockade can be seen in the distant middle-left. Pilot Knob is on the right. The roofed structure in the center of the parade grounds marks the site of the flagpole.

The lights were on when I got back to the visitor center. I made a quick tour of the displays. ( I generally go pretty quickly past things I can read in books.) I bought a hat, paid my fee, and headed for the nearby battle sites.

My first day’s goal was Sheridan, about a seven-hour drive from home. I hunted for places to stop along the way and found this state park seven miles outside the town of Douglas.

The fort was established in 1867 to protect travelers on the Bozeman Trail who were heading to Montana to look for gold. It was named for Captain William J. Fetterman who was killed in a battle with Indians in northern Wyoming.

The fort was built on a plateau above the Platte River. It turned out to be a miserable place to be stationed, especially in the winter because of the constant gales. After the Treaty of 1868, which ended Red Cloud’s War, the more-northern forts on the Bozeman Trail were abandoned. Fort Fetterman became the most advanced army presence on that frontier. It was considered a hardship post. Many soldiers deserted, and the fort was often without supplies and equipment. In the drawing below, the ordnance warehouse is the building half cut off on the left. The officers’ quarters is the closest building in the row on the left end of the parade grounds.

Fort Fetterman was the base of General George Crook’s Powder River Expeditions, including the one that ended with the Rosebud Battle in 1876. After that battle, Crook returned to Fetterman with his army, setting the stage for Custer’s defeat at Little Bighorn.

The military abandoned Fort Fetterman in 1882. The fort buildings became the short-lived town of Fetterman. Owen Wister’s town of Drybone in The Virginian was based on Fetterman. By 1886, the railroad passed through the area. The town of Douglas was built along the railroad, and Fetterman disappeared. Most of the fort buildings were sold, dismantled, and moved to other places. Only two buildings remain — an officers’ quarters and an ordnance warehouse.

Three views of the officers’ quarters — when the fort was active, just before the state took over (a back view), and now.

There was one other car in the lot. The curator of the museum in the officers’ quarters was talking with a guy who claimed to have visited the fort many times as a boy to dig for artifacts. When that guy left, the curator came over, greeted me, and told me his name. If I had known how good of friends we were to become, I would have paid more attention. During this first conversation, he just asked where I was from, told me what there was to see in the two buildings, and told me to stop by the front desk on my way out of the building because he “had a water for me.” (I had my own water, so didn’t bother.)

The old parade ground is laid out with paths, and markers explained where the fort buildings had been. I imagine there are times when walking the grounds would be unpleasantly hot, but on this day, it was almost chilly when the clouds covered the sun.

A gazebo sits on a knoll overlooking the Platte. The view of the river valley, the Wyoming plains, and the approaching rain showers was pretty in an open, empty way. The recent spring left everything green.

The ruins of an old water cistern, used to supply the fort, can be seen on a knoll next to the gazebo. (It’s visible in the panorama above.)

A monument marks the spot where the Bozeman Trail passed through the fort grounds.

As I walked back toward the museum, the curator walked out and met me. I don’t believe there was anything creepy about him, but he was certainly intense about making sure I got my money’s worth. (There was no admission fee.) First, he offered to walk with me out into the tall prairie grass to see some Indian paintbrush flowers he’d seen a day or two earlier. Then he began telling me about where he grew up 50 miles or so to the west. Then he told me about roads I could take up into the Laramie Mountains (visible off to the west) — but not in my car. When I asked the elevation of the tallest peak, he told me he would look it up “when we get back inside.” I was finally able to escape when another visitor showed up and said he wanted to buy a book.

I toured the displays in the ordnance warehouse, then headed on my way.

An aerial view of the fort.

I had several vacation days still to take and a new bunch coming at the beginning of July. I decided to use a couple of them to drive to Montana and visit Little Bighorn National Battlefield. I left home early on Saturday morning and headed north. I bought breakfast at Panera in Parker and gas in Cheyenne. (I saw a lot of signs in Wyoming, even on the Interstate, informing me that it was a long way to the next services. I was determined to keep my tank at least half full.)

My first official stop was in the tiny town of Chugwater, at the Chugwater Soda Fountain. It’s billed as the Oldest Operating Soda Fountain in Wyoming, which is about as much of claim to fame as “World’s Tallest Midget.”

I was the only customer. The woman behind the counter greeted me curtly. It was only 9:15 am. I didn’t want food. I’m not a big fan of sodas. So I ordered a chocolate milkshake. As the woman prepared it, I wandered the store to look at the “gifts,” a dusty collection of trinkets not related to the store. The place had a decided old feel to it, and I’m not convinced it draws a lot of tourist business.

The woman was a little friendlier when she gave me my shake. She had filled the cup so much that I had to drink some before I could put on the lid. It was tasty. A local gentleman came in as I was leaving and ordered his usual breakfast.

On my way out of town I discovered another Wyoming feature — the speed trap. As I approached the Interstate, the speed limit dropped from 65 to 25 right at the top of a rise. Fortunately I was paying attention. I don’t think I had gotten all the way to 25, but I was decelerating swiftly as I crested the rise and found a local officer parked right there.