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Updated: May 8, 2025
"I had been on many warpaths, but was not especially successful until about the time the Sioux began to fight with the white man. One of the most daring attacks that we ever made was at Fort Totten, North Dakota, in the summer of 1866. "Hohay, the Assiniboine captive of Sitting Bull, was the leader in this raid.
We ourselves were somewhat protected by gloves and head-nets, provided us before leaving Totten, but notwithstanding these our sufferings were well-nigh intolerable; the annoyance that the poor mules experienced must, therefore, have been extreme; indeed, they were so terribly stung that the blood fairly trickled down their sides.
"We can handle that rabble, Morrison included." He turned to the adjutant-general. "Your men seem to be alert enough in keeping out gentlemen who ought to be let in. Do you think you can depend on them to keep out real intruders?" "Oh yes!" faltered Totten, absent-mindedly.
Gave his pledge of assistance to the fellow in the ballroom, as Corson says. Understood him to say that he is coming up here to help you, too!" "I rather expected to find him here," pursued the Senator. "He went away in a great hurry to go somewhere. But after my experience with your alert soldiers down-stairs, Totten, I'm afraid our generous savior is going to be bothered about getting in."
And I'll bet you gold-dust against sawdust that they'll refuse to commit murder. Totten, this exigency is now working under a full head of steam. You can hear that mob now! This thing is getting down to minutes, I'll give you just one of those minutes to tramp down into that rotunda and issue your orders."
I used also to go down to the arsenal occasionally to see Lyon, Totten, and other of my army acquaintance, and was glad to see them making preparations to defend their post, if not to assume the offensive. The bombardment of Fort Sumter, which was announced by telegraph, began April 12th, and ended on the 14th.
A few minutes later, Totten entered the luxurious parlour of R. Schmidt and laid an unopened wireless message on the table at the young man's elbow. "Open it, Totten." The old man slit the envelope and glanced at the contents. He nodded his head in answer to an unspoken question. "Sold?" asked R. Schmidt. "Paris and Berlin, both of them, Prince. Every bond has been gobbled up."
General Van Rensselaer, from the American shore, sent word to Wadsworth to retreat. Colonels John Chrystie and Scott, of the regulars, and Captains James Mead, Strahan, and Allen, of the militia, and Captains Ogilvei, Wool, Joseph Gilbert, Totten, and McChesney, took council of their desperate situation.
Having a bit of fun, most likely." "Mighty poor fun for me, though, especially when the cudgels fell upon my head. I don't like such fun, and I want you to take steps to stop it in the future." "Who are the men?" the Squire asked. "I only know the names of three at present. They are Tom Totten, Pete Rollins and Ben Stubbles." "Ben Stubbles!" Squire Hawkins exclaimed in surprise.
Therefore, when General Totten complimented him at eleven o'clock, Captain Sweetsir had no trouble at all in disguising his gratification and in assuming the approved, sour demeanor of military gravity. Even then his ears, sharpened by his indignation, caught the clicking of dice on tiles.
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