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James Wilson Nichols gives an excellent account of the Plum Creek fight from one man's perspective, ain't creative just to quote some guy I know but hard to improve on this original...

http://www.tamu.edu/faculty/ccbn/dewitt/plumcreeknichols.htm#plumcreek

First off, Nichols verifies that the Comanches had already crossed Plum Creek before the Texans moved out...

Henry McCulloch, who with two or three men had been watching the manuvers of the enemy, came in and reported that the Indians was crossing Plum Creek at that very minute. Caldwell called the men togeather and mad a short speech saying, "If the Indians was not attacted before they reached the mountains, that a thousand men could do nothing with them, that they must be attacted and whiped before they reach the mountains and if they was let alone until twelve oclock that day thare would be no use in following them any farther." And says he, "We have a few over a hundred men and if we cant whipum. we can try."

Nichols received a bullet to his right hand, disabling it, but writes this believable account of how the final charge at PLum Creek began...

The three officers was yet standing togeather when French Smith seeing so many gitting wounded and takeing in the situation says, "Boys, lets charge them," and started of in a run, and the whole company, suposeing the charge had been ordered by an officer, charged after Smith.

One of Burlesons men, Hutcheson Reede, had come across to see what was causing the delay as Burlesons command had become impatient, and Caldwell seeing his men in motion, started of in the charge, and Burleson broak back and ordered his men to charge round the point of timber. Houston simply hollowed, "Charge," and filed in amongst the croud.

...and of the slaying of captives, all the work of one woman according to Nichols, believable, as all were apparently tied close togethers...

After fireing my rifle I was unable to reload it, and I consigned it to the holder at the born of my saddle and, having a brace of old Inglish brass mounted holsters, I drew one of them with my left hand and was of amongst the foremost in the charge.

Just before I arived at the place whare the Indians had first halted I saw an old Indian squaw standing by the side of her horse and the prisnrs dismounted and standing near by, and when the rought commenced this old mother of the forest, seeing the Texians in full chace after the Indians and them flying, sent an arrow through the negro girl killing her instantly, then turned to Mrs. Crosby shot her dead, then turned to Mrs. Watts shot her with an arrow but in such a hurry she failed to kill her but inflicted a dangerous wound in her breast and then ran for her horse, but received the contents of my holster before she could mount.

No tinge of self-glorification pertaining to his actions...

After dischargeing one of my holsters at the squaw that shot the prisnrs I returned it to the holster, drew the other one and, as I was rideing a good horse, I was soon up with the hindmost potion of the flying enemy, and as the Texians and Indians ware conciderable mixtup and a great many of the Indians dressed in citizens cloths, it was hard to distingush them apart.

I discovered one Indian som distance in the rear of the main force of the enemy and I urged my horse on and was soon up with the Indian. I raised my pistol and fired and the Indian fell from the horse, rolled over displaying a pair of larg flabby breasts that accounted for her being in the rear of som of the Texians as they had discovered her to be a squaw and passed on.

It is difficult to distinguish the sexes of a flying enemy when both sexes dressed the same for she carried a bow and quiver but did not attemt to use it. I put my empty pistol back in the holster, drew my belt pistol, a larg Deringer, and went on after the flying enemy.

I arived on the bank of a boggy creek litterly bridged with packs, dead and bogged down horses and mules, and saw two Indians climeing the bank on the otherside, and fired at one and they both fell, but am not certain that I hit either of them for just to my right thare was six or eight guns fired at the same time that I fired.

Interesting the description of Comanches dressed in Euro clothing, looted from Linnville perhaps. Possibility too I guess that there were Eastern tribesmen in the mix.

My arms was now all emty and I was unable to reload so I sit watching the flying enemy and their persuers...

Moore ("Savage Frontier" identifies Ben and Henry McCulloch and a number of the Burlesons as those most persistent in pursuit, the McCullochs espcially noted as being on famously good horses. Exemplary aggressiveness on the part of these pursuers, taking off in day-long pursuit of a far superior number of dangerous enemy, after days of arduous travel on their part.

Meanwhile, back at the Clear Fork, Moore identifies the repeating rifle in this next clash witnessed by Nichols as a Colt Paterson. Clearly it was not, both from the description of the brass cylinder and the size of said cylinder "about the size of a breakfast plate.". Sounds like too the cylinder was revolved by hand. The whistle in this case was likely an eagle bone whistle, made from the bone of the wing.

Nichols account captures well the mad scrabble of hand to hand combat...

The chief saw that he would be overtaken and blew his whistle loud and the wariors all turned back, deturmend I supose, to die with their chief if nessesary, and when Miller and the other boys and the wariors had nearly met the other boys all fired with good effect each killing his man but Millers gun missed fire, but the other boys seeing thare was but one Indian left, thought Miller would take care of him haveing a repeateing rifle, hurried on to over take the chief.

The warior, seeing Millers gun had missed fire, rushed on to him and Miller haveing one of those old fashioned seven shooting rifles with a brass cylinder, about the size of a breakfast plate, sitting on the bretch of his gun, after fireing would have to revolve it with his hand, and this time being in a hurry, he failed to turn the cylinder fare enough to catch.

Miller and the Indian met and when their horses heads passed each other the two mens legs almost touched and the Indian commenced to pull his bowstring, for he had already adjusted an arrow. Miller said he could see his bow begin to bend when he raised his gun and with a side swing hit the Indian on the side of the head staggering him back and knocking his bow clear out of his hands.

Now they ware both as good as unarmed but as quick as thought the savage snatched a handfull of arrows from his quiver and job[ed] them against Millers breast trying to stab him with them. By this time Miller had discovered the defect and remided it and shot the Indian dead.

...and then an episode where the sentiments of the observers show just how stable our values as Americans have remained over the last 172 years. Nichols migt be excoriated by some here as a simpering Liberal, had he not just convincingly demonstrated his capacity for righteous violence...

All this occured in about five minuts and I was still sitting on my horse whare I had been watching Millers fight with the Indian when I heared a noise behind me and turned my head and saw a horse fall and an Indian tumble of. When the horse fell I suposed the Indian was dead, but in a few moments she, for it was a squaw, gained a sitting posture, but I had nothing to shoot with if it had been a man armed, but I discovered it was a woman and also observed she had no bow and arrows.

I discovered she had been shot through both thighs and both thigh bones broaken and I stood and looked at her as th[e] dying horse had scrambled near her and died, and I was just going to ride of when I saw two men under full speede comeing towards me.

Now I am going to relate a circumstance that makes shiver now and I am going to show that the American race is not wholy exemp from acts of cruelty and barberism, for these two comeing full spedde was old Ezkel Smith and French Smith, his son, they came near and discovered the wounded squaw and they halted.

The old man got down, handed French his panting horse to hold, saying at the same time, "Look thare, French," pointing to the old wounded squaw with her long flabby breasts hanging down as she had recovered a sitting posture. He drew his long hack knife as he strode towards her, taken her by the long hair, pulled her head back and she gave him one imploreing look and jabbered somthing in her own language and raised both hands as though she would consign her soul to the great sperit, and received the knife to her throat which cut from ear to ear, and she fell back and expired.

He then plunged the knife to the hilt in her breast and twisted it round and round like he was grinding coffee, then drew it from the reathing boddy and returned the dripping instrement to its scabard without saying a word. French says, "Well, Father, I would not have done that for a hundred dollars."....

He mounted his horse and they both galloped of after the croud, but I still sit thare on my horse a few seconds longer wondering if thare was another man in America that claimed to be civilized that would act so cruel.

Smith claimed to be a Christian and had belonged to the Methodist church for 27 years and led in prayr meetings and exorted in public and was a noted class leadre, but the old fellow has long sence gone to reap his reward whare the woodbine twinethe and the wangdoodle mourneth for her first born.

"whare the woodbine twinethe and the wangdoodle mourneth for her first born." I'll have to remember that line.

And then the aftermath, when the adrenaline fades and heartbeats return to a semblance of normal..

I suposed I had been thare since I first arived near ten minuts when I discovered that my wound had commenced to bleede rapidly, and I turned and started back and saw a bolt of yellow silk streatched out on the grass and bushes about 40 yards long and about 12 inches wide.

I alited from my horse, taken one end, raped the whole bolt around my wounded hand and started to mount my horse again, and for the first time discovered that the foretree of my saddle had been pearced with a large escopet ball cutting both forks intirely in two leaveing nothing to hold the saddle togeather but the raw hide cover....

Late in the evening when most of the men had returned from th[e] chace, the officers picked out a suitable place to on the south side of the creek close to watter an[d a pr]arie, serounded on all sides but one with st[ands of] timber and dog wood brush, opiset or a little below the main battle ground, and ordered all the goods thare, and they chose another similar place to correl the horses and mules in.

The next morning they appointed a commity to divide the goods according to quantity and quality and put them in just two hundred and three piles, just the nomber of men inguaged in the battle.

I was lying in the shad and saw Brother John comeing in with a load of saddle trees, some ten or fifteen on his horse, and I called to him to come by and he came up and I told him that my saddle tree had been shot in two and ruined, and I wanted him to pick out a good one from his lot and put the rigging of of my old saddle on it for me which he did the saddle trees had been taken at Linville by the savages and was of Childresses make.

I have rode that saddle tree ever since and now when I ride a horseback I ride that same saddle tree. I have had it rigged several times and it is still the same tree but looks little the worse for ware as it has been in almost constant use forty seven years.

Thare was squads of men ariveing in camp all evening and all night so that by the next morning I guess thare was five or six hundred men on the ground. The comity appointed to divide the goods, after all the packs had been opened and divided, taken a bunch of knitting nedles and stuck them in the ground by the side of each pile of goods with a slip of paper in each bunch of nedles and they then proceded to stake for them.

They placed a man out side of the ring with his back to the good[s to] call the role and thare was one man appointed to go bollow out, "Whose is this pile," and point to the nedles, and [the other man] would call som name and so on [until the last name] was called and the last pile of go[ods was gone.

We used the same] way in divideing the horses and mul[es. An animal was chosen and when a] name was called the man or his represen[tative then came] and roped his animal, and I drew the best sad[dle horse] that I ever rode. It was a natural pacer and Brother John roped it for me and said he wanted me to have an easy ride home as I was wounded.

Reading between the lines, the appropriation of the spoils this way was a sore point, as John Linn (same URL) put it....

Several hundred head of horses and mules were recaptured, as were also immense quantities of dry goods. 'To the victors belong the spoils, and the Colorado men appropriated everything to themselves. Ewing recognized many of his goods in the captured property, but identification did him no good. Captain J. O. Wheeler, though 150 of the recaptured horses bore his brand, obtained with the greatest difficulty a horse to ride home.

...and even Robert Hall felt constrained to write, years after the fact...

There were five hundred of these pack mules. The government had just received a supply of stores at Linnville, and the Indians had captured these. We hardly knew what to do with all this stuff, and we finally concluded to divide it among ourselves.

Some days after I reached home the boys sent me a pack mule and a pack. In the pack there was a pillow and a bolster of home-made cloth and considerable dry goods. There were also coverlets, sheets, quilts, and clothing. If I had known who the stuff belonged to I would have, of course, returned it.


There was apparently celebration of sorts that first night, with the hundreds of men gathered together and a victory to celebrate, the men dispersing over the next few days.

Birdwatcher