Do you think they meant that the bridge could be icy?
If you'v been with me when traveling, we will know that I stop at ALL historical markers if at all possible. This gives me and my passengers the opportunity to find out something new about the area. Such was the case yesterday several times beginnng with this stop...Conner Battlefield -
In the summer of 1865, General Patrick E. Connor led a column of troops from Fort Laramie into the Powder River Country of northern Wyoming. The Powder River Expedition's mission was to make war on the Indians and punish them, so that they would be forced to keep the peace.
General Connor had experienced little fighting until late August 1865 where he discovered 500 Arapaho Indians under Chiefs Black Bear and Medicine Man along the Tongue River in north central Wyoming. Connor had only 400 men at his immediate disposal but moved against the Indians nonetheless. On August 29 Connor caught up to the Indian village on a piece of land where the Tongue River makes a bottleneck.
Chief Black Bear and some of the warriors were fighting the Crow along the Big Horn River, but Medicine Man and some older men, women and children were still in camp. At 7:30 in the morning Connor charged the village. The soldiers overran the camp and pushed the Indians 10 miles up Wolf Creek. The remaining warriors attempted to make a stand to allow the women and children to escape before the village was overrun. After the soldiers had captured the village the Indians staged a counter attack but Connor had brought up two howitzers and held off the attack.
Skirmishing lasted until dark and the battle resulted in a victory for Connor. 63 Indians were killed or wounded, and the soldiers captured 18 women and children, but eventually released them. Additionally, the soldiers killed over 1,000 Indian horses and ponies.
During this action, other soldiers burned the camp and its supplies, making it a funeral pyre for their dead. Indian casualties included 64 warriors and several hundred ponies. As the soldiers withdrew the Indians advanced, recapturing several of their ponies, and continued harassing the column for several days. Connor's column marched back to Fort Laramie following the establishment of Fort Connor on the Powder River near present day Kaycee.
Who knew 'bout all this? I didn't until yesterday. Here are some writings from the Palmer Diaries in 1865...
"It appeared that the Indians were in the act of breaking camp. The most of their tepees were down and packed for the march. The ponies, more than three thousand, had just been gathered in, and most of the warriors had secured their horses; probably half of the squaws and children were mounted, and some had taken up the line of march up the stream for a new camp. They were Arapahoes under Black Bear and Old David, with several other chiefs not so prominent.
The General watched the movements of his men until he saw the last man emerge into line. The whole line then fired a volley from their carbines into the village without halting their horses, and the bugles sounded the charge. Without the sound of the bugle there would have been no halt by the men in that column; not a man but realized that to charge into the Indian village without a moments hesitancy was our only salvation. We already saw that we were greatly outnumbered, and that only desperate fighting would save our scalps.
I felt for a moment that my place was with the train; that really I was a consummate fool for urging the General to allow me to accompany him. I was reminded that I had lost no Indians, and that scalping Indians was unmanly, besides being brutal, and for my part I did not want any dirty scalps; yet, I had no time to halt; I could not do it—my horse carried me forward almost against my will, and those few moments—less than it takes to tell the story—I was in the village in the midst of a hand to hand fight with warriors and their squaws, for many of the female portion of this band did as brave fighting as their savage lords. unfortunately for the women and children, our men had no time to direct their aim; bullets from both sides and murderous arrows filled the air; squaws and children, as well as warriors, fell among the dead and wounded.The scene was indescribable. there was not much of the military in our movements; each man seemed an army by himself.
Standing near the ‘sweat house,’ I emptied my revolver into the carcasses of three warriors. One of John Morgan’s men, a fine looking soldier with as handsome a face as I ever saw on a men, grabbed me by the soldier and turned me about that I might assist him in withdrawing an arrow from his mouth. The point of the arrow had passed through his open mouth and lodged in the root of his tongue. Having no surgeon with us of a higher rank than a hospital steward, it was afterwards, within a half hour, decided that to get the arrow out of his mouth the tongue must be, and was, cut out. The poor fellow returned to camp with us and at this late date I am unable to say whether he lived or died.
Another man, a sergeant in the Signal Corps, by the name of Charles M. Lantham, was shot in the heel. He had been through the entire ware in the Army of the Potomac, and wore a medal for bravery, had passed through many battles and escaped unharmed. This shot in the heel caused his death; he died a few days afterward with lock-jaw.
The Indians made a brave stand trying to save their families, and succeeded in getting away with a large majority of their women and children, leaving behind them nearly all their plunder. They fled up a stream now called Wolf Creek, General Connor in close pursuit. Soon after we left the village General Connor advised me to instruct Captain North to take his Indians and get all the stock he could possible gather. This was done, and with a few stragglers I followed a small band of Indians up the main Tongue River about three miles, until they gathered recruits enough to turn upon us and force us back.
General Connor pursued the fleeing savages fully ten miles from camp, when he found himself accompanied by only fourteen men; our horses had all become so fatigued and worn out that it was impossible to keep up. The General halted his small squad and attempted to take the names of his brave comrades, when the Indians, noticing the paucity of his numbers, immediately turned upon him and made a desperate effort to surround him and his small squad of soldiers. They fell back as rapidly as possible, contesting every inch, reinforced every few minutes by some stragglers who had endeavored to keep up. With this help they managed to return to camp, where Captain North and myself had succeeded in corralling about eleven hundred head of ponies. One piece of artillery had become disabled. The axeltree of the gun carriage, a mountain howitzer was broken. We left the wheels and broken axle near the river and saved the cannon.
The command rendezvoused in the village and the men were set to work destroying Indian property. Scores of buffalo robes, blankets and furs were heaped up on lodge poles, with tepee covers and dried buffalo meat piled on top, and burned. On one of these piles we placed our dead and burned their bodies to keep the Indians from mutilating them. During our halt the Indians pressed up close to the camp, made several desperate attempts to recover their stock, when the mountain howitzer, under the skillful management of Nick O’Brien, prevented them from completing their aims.
Our attack upon the village commenced at 9 o’clock a.m. The rendezvous in the village was about half past twelve; we remained there until half past two; in the intervening time we destroyed an immense amount of property—fully two hundred and fifty Indian lodges and contents. At half past two we took up the line of march for the train. Captain North and his eighty Indians, undertook to drive the stock; they were so far ahead, while the rest of the force was employed in beating back the Indians. The Indians pressed us on every side, sometime charging up to within fifty feet of our rear guard. They seemed to have plenty of ammunition, but did most of their fighting with arrows, although there were some of them armed with muskets with which they could send lead in dangerous proximity to our men. Before dark we were reduced to forty men who had any ammunition, and these only a few rounds apiece.
The Indians showed no signs of stopping the fight, but kept on pressing us, charging upon us dashing away at the stock, keeping us constantly on the move, until fifteen minutes of twelve o’clock, when the last shot was fired by our pursuers. At this time I had gone ahead to communicate an order from General Connor to Captain North relative to handling the stock. Having just completed my work, I halted by the side of the trail and waited for the General, who was with the rear guard. I remember, as I was getting from my horse, I heard the last shot fired some two or three miles in the rear.
After I had dismounted I realized that I was fearfully tired, so tired that I could not stand up. I sat on the ground, and in a moment, in spite of myself, was in a sound sleep, and was only awakened by being dragged by my horse, which was an Indian pony that I had saddled from the captured stock. Nearly all our men had remounted themselves while we were rendezvousing in the Indian village, otherwise we would not have been able to keep out of the way of the pursuing Indians. My lariat was wrapped around my right arm, and with this the pony was dragging me across the prickly pears when I awakened. Realizing that I was on dangerous ground, I quickly mounted my pony and listened for the least sound to indicate whether the General had come up or not. There was no noise—not a sound to be heard, the night was intensely dark, and myself so bewildered that I scarcely knew which way to go.
Again jumping from my horse, I felt with my hands until I found the trail and discovered that the footprints of the horses went in a certain direction. Taking that as my course, I rode away as rapidly as possible, and after three miles hard riding overtook the General and his rear guard, who had passed me while asleep. All congratulated me on my rather narrow escape.
We arrived at camp at daylight, after marching fully one hundred and ten miles without any rest or refreshments, except from the jerked buffalo that the boys had filled their pockets with in the Indian village."
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