The Battle of Dove Creek

The Battle of Dove Creek took place on January 8, 1865, near the present city of San Angelo.  Remember that the Civil War was almost over by this time.  On April 9, General Lee would surrender to General Grant at Appomattox, essentially marking the end of the war.

The Kickapoo Indians had been assaulted and abused by both sides during the war and the triibal elders decided they would be better off in Mexico during the war.  The Mexican government had promised them a place of sanctuary in the state of Coahuila and they had also been promised safe passage across Texas by the Governor.

About a month before the Battle, Capt. N.M Gillintine and a Texas militia scouting party had discovered the remains of an Indian camp near the Brazos River.  A force was quickly put together of about 325 men consisting of Texas State militiamen and Confederate troops under the command of Capt. Henry Fossett.  They assumed, incorrectly, that the Indian party they sought was a war party and not a group of peaceful Indians traveling across the countryside.

On December 27, the militia force, under the command of Capt. S.S. Totton, began to follow the trail of this group of Indians.  For several days, through heavy rains and cold weather, they followed the trail.  Their provisions ran low and Totton dispatched fourteen men to Fort Chadbourne thirty miles away to replenish their food supplies.

At last, on January 7, the militiamen and Confederate soldiers caught up with the traveling Kickapoos.  The Confederate forced totaled about 220 men.  The Kickapoo Indians had a force of about 400 to 600 men, along with the women and children that such a movement would have.  Although significantly outnumbered, the leaders of the military force were sure that they would have no problem defeating the Indians.

Before dawn on January 8, the battle began.  It didn't take long to see that the Kickapoos were able to defend themselves.  They had recently been armed with new repeating rifles and knew how to use them.  Almost immediately, the militia and Confederate's were routed!  One of the participants who later became a judge, I.D. Ferguson, wrote an account of the battle in 1911.  An excerpt follows:


"Order could not be restored; officers seemed to lose control over their companies; they yelled themselves hoarse trying to get the men to halt and make a fight and drive the Indians back; men on wounded horses begun to drop in the rear, soon to be overtaken and killed. Among the number was Jim Gibson of our company, and myself.  Both of our horses had been wounded.  It was but a very short time until Mr. Gibson was killed, and it appeared that I was to be the next in order as it did not seem possible that I could escape death. I was getting far behind the retreating column and the Indians were getting close to me. A stream of singing bullets clipping my clothing, the air seemed alive with flying lead. My hopes had fled, and I became resigned to my fate. All fear and excitement passed away with my hope of safety and left a train of
thoughts passing through my mind faster than the speed of time; I wondered how I would feel when the deadly missle came crashing through my brain. I thought of home, and what the people would say about me when I was gone; I imagined that after death, the wolves would sneak up and gnaw my bones, and
the wild buffalo would click their hoofs against my dry skull and scare the crickets out of my eye sockets where they had hid away to sing their evening songs. I thought it would be better for me to be killed, as I was only a boy, and had no cares of my own nor none to care for me. That it would better be me than those who had no families to care for.

"Just as these thoughts were trooping through my brain, I saw the panic stricken column checking up and a little man wheel his horse and with a loud voice say, "Here boys, here, follow me, let us save that boy's life!"  It was J. O. Alexander of our company, God bless his noble name; to him I owe my life. He came charging back, followed by our own company and also Foycett's company, with the old gray headed commander leading them; and in a minute the whole command had rallied and were coming flying back, screaming and shooting as they came.  They drove the Indians back and we planted ourselves oa a ridge of prairie to stand and fight till every man was dead. We held up our hands and all took an oath that we would stay there as long as a man was alive, and that there would be no more running away."

J.O. Alexander was, of course, my great grandfather.  At any rate, the Confederates and Militia suffered a resounding defeat in a battle which should have not been fought!