Chapter 16

Secession Fervor

Winter 1860-61

I couldn’t believe what I was reading. As absurd as it seemed that our country would fight against itself, every new edition of the newspaper made it seem more and more likely. Thinking that it might be the exaggerated opinion of the local newspaper, I had our steamboat captains bring me newspapers from St. Joseph, Kansas City, and even St. Louis. I even had newspapers delivered from Washington, New York City and Philadelphia.

While the news in those papers was slightly dated and reflected the bias of that particular paper, for the most part, they agreed with our paper on the seriousness of the current situation. There were days when the news made me wish I hadn’t financed the telegraph into Nebraska. That way, I wouldn’t hear the bad news so soon.

Every day, several people asked me what we would do if there were a war. I told them it would be up to the conscience of each individual. My wives and I had already talked about it, and while they didn’t like it, they knew I would be enlisting at the first news of hostilities. I had already ordered more rifles, ammunition, and cannons. We now had a hundred of the breech-loading Armstrong cannons, although the new ones were six-pounders.

We had enough shells to feed them for months if necessary. We increased the number of three-inch ordnance rifles to five hundred, with an equivalent increase in the number of shells for them. I intended to defend Libertyville aggressively, as well as our Colorado claims. If we went to war, the three-inch guns would be our cannon of choice. They were lighter and more accurate than larger cannons and had a range of just over a mile. With so much ammunition stockpiled, we now had forty thick-walled magazines in Libertyville to hold it, all of them well away from the city. Some of our cattle and crops would have a problem if one exploded, however.

Each of our satellite communities in Nebraska and Colorado, as well as the coal mine, had newly erected fortifications. They also had their own cannons. We bought ten thousand of the new Spencer Repeating rifles, nearly all they had manufactured to date, straining the capability of the fledgling manufacturer to meet our demand.

These new repeating rifles were a huge improvement over the Colt Revolving rifles. The Spencer had a tube magazine that held seven of the .56-56 Spencer rimfire cartridges. The cartridges meant that we didn’t have to mess with black powder, wadding, lead balls, and caps for the rifles any longer. Like the S&W revolver cartridges, everything was included in each cartridge.

Once you fired the rifle, working the lever ejected the brass from the fired cartridge and slid a new one into place. Cock the hammer, aim, fire, and repeat. When the tube magazine was empty, a Blakeslee cartridge box that held six, ten, or thirteen tubes, each filled with seven cartridges, made reloading easy. I kept three of the thirteen-tube Blakeslee boxes loaded and ready to go. That gave me two hundred-eighty shots with only a short reloading time after every seven shots.

Our first purchase of the Spencer rifles, and our order for forty thousand more, forced the company to hire more workers and expand their production facility so they were able to produce more of the rifles at a much faster rate. After trying the new rifles, I loaned them the money to expand production. There was no way this rifle wouldn’t become a big seller. We supplemented the Spencer rifles with thirty thousand of the Colt Revolving rifles that we had used up to now. More than half of the women in Libertyville and our outlying towns were now proficient with them.

Our herds of horses and mules have increased (mostly through purchases) enough that we could put twenty thousand men in a saddle.

Preferring to be proactive, I made the trip to Fort Kearney to see what would happen if fighting broke out. The Captain wasn’t sure but felt that his troops would be ordered to Kansas or Missouri to help defend the larger cities there. He hadn’t received any orders suggesting that, though. He also felt that a call would go out to those states supporting the Union to raise troops. He was sure that the army would not allow Negro troops and laughed at the absurdity of my question about Indians serving. “I know the Indians living with you folks have been armed, and I’m still surprised that pioneers manage to get through here without being slaughtered,” he replied snidely.

When I got back, I sought an audience with the territorial governor. His opinion matched that of the captain from Fort Kearney, although he felt the army should allow qualified Negroes to enlist. He wouldn’t define what would qualify them, though.

My next action was a trip to Fort Leavenworth to see Captain Scott. He agreed that the army wouldn’t allow Negroes or Indians to enlist, although a few Indians might be allowed to act as scouts. “How few?” I asked eagerly. When he shrugged, I grinned triumphantly.

He agreed with me that Negroes should be allowed to fight. After all, they had a lot to lose if there were a war over the slavery issue. He hemmed and hawed about my suggestion for several minutes before agreeing. “Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke,” he commented about his superiors. “That’s the first thing I’ve heard in a long time that makes any sense.”

“If it comes down to a war, and if we do this, I’ll need to join you guys as a civilian afterwards--and maybe even during,” he chuckled. “When they find out what I agreed to do, there will be a lot of pissed off generals and politicians in Washington.”

He suggested that I add sabers to my list of arms if we intended to ride as cavalry, and sent Gus, his sergeant, back with me to make sure any troops we raised were properly trained. I gave the captain enough money for twenty-five-thousand cavalry uniforms and twenty-five-thousand infantry uniforms. He could keep them here until we needed them, or ship them to us, whichever he preferred. I promised not to use them unless they became necessary. If we ended up not needing them, I would donate them to the army.

If war broke out, we would become irregulars, with or without the blessing of the Army, and adjunct to his command. At Gus’ suggestion, I telegraphed James Callahan with my order for fifty thousand pairs of riding boots to go with the twenty-five-thousand sabers that Captain Scott suggested, and thousands of tents and blankets. If nothing else, the orders would help the businesses manufacturing those items to start ramping up production.

I gave my wives and family the news when I got back. In less than a day, everyone in Libertyville knew what I intended to do. Within a week, we had two thousand volunteers taking off one day a week from work to drill with Gus, in addition to two hundred Sioux warriors. I insisted on paying them for the day, even though they weren’t at their regular jobs.

I found out later that the women had been busy, too. They began sewing platoon, company, battalion, and regimental banners for us to use if needed.

All the Sioux warriors who joined us were proficient with the Enfield, as well as with the Colt Revolving rifles. Most wore a Navy Colt as well. The white and Negro sharpshooters were armed the same way. The rest carried the Repeating Rifle and a shotgun. The shotgun was a French one, a double barrel, Lefaucheaux, top break, pinfire shotgun that used metal cartridges, which we bought by the wagonload.

It took a short time for everyone to get used to the new Spencer rifles, but they quickly became converts, turning in their revolving rifles for us to use if we ran out of the Spencers. Across a battlefield, the repeating rifle would be our weapon of choice, giving us a much higher rate of fire than the older, single shot rifles. If the fighting got close though, the shotguns would do significantly more damage than the rifles.

Aside from the repeating rifles, our stockpile of arms would include twenty thousand Enfields, forty thousand shotguns, and sixty thousand Navy Colt revolvers. All I can say is thank God for the Paha Sapa gold and the Colorado gold and silver. Of course, those orders for weapons required the various companies to hire more workers, which started them ramping up production in case it was needed. I hoped it wasn’t.

We reviewed each of our business interests, adding armed guards in every bank in Missouri. Every train going through Missouri had armed guards, as did all our steamboats, regardless of where they were operating.

We now had eleven producing oil wells in southern Nebraska and had already enlarged the refinery three times to increase production. Fuel oil was starting to replace coal for heating homes, and we were supplying a lot of it.

A bridge across the Missouri River here was taking shape, although it would be several more months before it was complete. The railroad and telegraph into Colorado, what people were currently calling the Jefferson Territory, were complete all the way to Clear Creek Hot Springs. A spur line brought gold ore from our mines on Mountain Mesa to our large smelter in Clear Creek Hot Springs.

At the behest of the miners in Breckenridge and Fairplay, we had run a seventy-mile narrow-gauge spur from Crystal Creek Hot Springs through Breckenridge to Fairplay. We again appeased the miners when we built a branch of Libertyville Bank at our mercantile store there. Since there were already plenty of saloons and brothels there, we didn’t build either, although we supplied moonshine and beer to the saloons. We made enough buying, smelting, and transporting the gold, as well as selling booze and coal to make the spur profitable. Having a railroad to the area attracted even more miners, and we made money on their fares, too.

Another spur of the railroad branched off and ran south through Denver City, all the way to the growing town of Pueblo. From there, it turned west to Cañon City, the gold mines, and the oil refinery. We supplied coal and kerosene to nearly everyone in the Jefferson Territory.

We completed a railroad line from Davenport, Iowa, to St. Louis, allowing transportation of goods via rail to Davenport where the bridge across the Mississippi allowed unbroken access to the east coast. We were also preparing to start construction of a bridge over the Mississippi just north of St. Louis to provide a second rail link.

The population of Libertyville was quickly approaching thirty thousand, making us one of the twenty-five largest cities in the country. Every time I rode through town, I was in awe of what we had created here. I saw streets filled with houses in areas that had been the fields where we planted our crops the first two years.

By the end of January 1861, everybody felt that war was inevitable. We all hoped and prayed daily that it didn’t happen, but with six states already seceded from the Union, only an idiot or a politician (is that redundant?) could think war wasn’t the primary option. On Wednesday, we began a full two weeks of training. We suggested to those few citizens who refused to fight alongside Negroes and Indians that they enlist at Fort Kearney if there was a call for troops.

Two weeks later Sergeant Gus pronounced us “damn fine soldiers,” and we resumed once-a-week drills.

During the winter, the number of Sioux moving to Libertyville increased markedly. We went from seven villages to twenty-three in a three-month period. Each time a new village arrived, the new chief would seek me out and present me with many of his warriors to join our troops. By the end of February, we had more than a thousand Sioux warriors. When I asked Chief Lone Buffalo about it, he asked me to wait a few more days for an explanation, so I did.

The Arapaho, Ute, and Cheyenne were also starting to gather on our property, especially around our towns in the Jefferson Territory.

On February 28, Washington formally created the Colorado Territory, replacing the informal Jefferson Territory. I grudgingly agreed and let them locate the new territorial capital in Fort Crius. Fort Crius was the only large town in Colorado that didn’t lobby to have the capital there. The informal capital of the Jefferson Territory had been Auraria.

Two days later, Washington formed the Dakota Territory, leaving me scrambling to make sure that the land we purchased, namely Paha Sapa, remained purchased. Only the request to have the Colorado Territory’s capital in Fort Crius kept me from panicking about our lands there. I didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with the new Dakota territorial government, but I wasn’t about to give up our claim. My father went in my stead, making sure he had a map and one of the copies of our deeds to the land we had purchased. At least he didn’t have far to go. Yankton, the new capital for the Dakota Territory, was only four hours up the Missouri River by steamboat. I hoped the fact that Yankton bought their coal from us would help assure our claims.

Dad returned three days later with a smile and good news. Our claims were valid. Territorial Governor William Jayne was pleased both that we managed to create a place for the Sioux and other tribes that kept them happy--and off the warpath--and that we were preparing to go to the defense of President Lincoln, his personal friend.

On April 3, the Sioux chiefs requested my presence at a ceremony. Figuring it was some sort of welcoming ceremony for the new arrivals, I was surprised when I was presented to more than two thousand Sioux warriors and all the Sioux chiefs. In front of everyone, they recited the lengthy list of my “heroic” deeds starting with saving Dawn. Each time they recounted an event, they inserted one of the eagle feathers I had collected three years ago into a headdress.

Dawn handed the empty headdress to the chiefs in what appeared to be a ceremonial presentation. Aside from the feathers, she had decorated the war bonnet with ermine skins and probably two or three boxes of the beads I constantly bought for her. When I saw Dawn sharing them with some of the other Indian women, I bought all the beads I could find, and had a thousand more boxes sent here from St. Louis.

By the time they finished the recitation, the war bonnet had far more tail feathers than several live eagles had, and more than I had found. The feather representing the purchase of Paha Sapa was stained red to denote the importance of that deed to the Sioux. Chief Lone Buffalo presented the headdress to me solemnly, and I nodded my appreciation, too choked up to say anything.

Then Chief Red Fish stepped forward with a headband of some sort. It was a narrow band topped with blackened porcupine quills. Once Flower properly attached it in my hair, Chief Lone Buffalo announced to everyone that I had been elected to be the Sioux War Chief and would lead the Sioux warriors, the Negro warriors, and the White warriors into battle and would return home victorious. The Sioux warriors had taken surprisingly well to their military training--sort of. Gus had learned a couple of things from the Sioux and incorporated them into our training.

April 13, 1861

The newspaper this morning was filled with news about a Confederate attack on Fort Sumter, wherever that was. I found out reading the article that it was in the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina. I barely ate all day, worried about the response the news would evoke from Washington.

Apr 15, 1861

Twelve days after the Sioux proclaimed me the Sioux War Chief, a newly inaugurated President Lincoln issued a call to the states to enlist seventy-five thousand men for ninety days to put down the rebellion. Even though I had known in my heart that it was coming, my heart sank.

Apr 17

Two days after Lincoln’s call to arms, we were aboard eight steamboats bound for Fort Leavenworth. We had acquired five more large steamboats that needed repairs last year, having the repairs done for us in Louisville by the Eagleston Boatyard. It seemed that anytime they got a steamboat that needed a new owner, I heard about it right away. I’m still surprised that nobody connected the departure of the newly outfitted Paha Sapa with the escape of so many slaves from the area.

In addition to any repairs done to the boats, each steamboat had our much-expanded coal bin added. They also had reinforced positions at each corner of the boat where we placed one of the three-inch ordnance rifles and had two placements along each side for the six-pounder Armstrong cannons to help discourage pirates.

The rails along all three decks were covered with two-inch thick oak planks. This was also done “to protect the boats from pirates.” We removed any remaining trappings of luxury, making these working boats for carrying cargo and everyday passengers, not for catering to the whims of wealthy passengers. There were already enough boats capable of doing that.

At Fort Leavenworth, Captain Scott swore us in as 1st and 2nd Battalion Scouts of the 3rd Infantry Regiment. Captain Scott handed me my orders: wreak havoc among the seceded states and protect those states still in the Union.

Our first raid was spectacular. While both sides were still recruiting and arming troops, we steamed into New Orleans after dark, hiding how many men were aboard by keeping the majority inside during the day. Some of our men looked and acted like deck fare passengers. The night of the raid, eight miles north of New Orleans, four of our steamboats pulled ashore as if to take on firewood, two on the east bank of the river, and two on the west. Each boat let off a company of two hundred Sioux and a company of three hundred White and Negro troops. West of the river, Captain Braxton led his four companies as they skirted all the towns until they reached the main docks of Algiers, a town directly across the river from downtown New Orleans.

In Algiers, using stealth and their bows when necessary, the Sioux soldiers captured the coal yard without a single gunshot being fired or any type of alarm raised. The Paha Sapa, our logging and coal steamboat, was already loading coal there; her twenty barges of coal bins were almost fully loaded with coal by then. When she was full, she steamed north to rendezvous with the two boats waiting for our troops on the east side to return, as well as waiting to rendezvous with the rest of our boats when we made our escape. Our two boats waiting upstream filled their coal bins from the Paha Sapa while they waited for the troops to return.