The first time an Indian was permitted to appear in court in this country
and have his rights tried, was in the year 1897. Previous to this every
Indian in the United States was subject to the orders of the Secretary of
the Interior. If he happened to be a man of a tyrannical nature, the
Indians fared hard. One Secretary of the Interior at the point of the
bayonet had caused all the Poncas Indians to be driven from northern
Nebraska down to Indian Territory, depriving them of lands to which they
held government deeds. They were left in the new country for months without
rations, and more than one third of them died. Among these was the son of
Standing Bear. The old chief refused to have the boy buried in the strange
country, and, gathering about thirty members of his tribe together, he
started for their ancient hunting-grounds, intending to bury his boy where
generations of the Poncas chiefs lay.
The Secretary of the Interior heard of the runaways, and through the War
Department telegraphed to General Crook, of Omaha, to arrest the Indians,
and return them to Indian Territory. So General Crook arrested Standing
Bear and his followers, and took them all, with the old wagon that
contained the body of the dead boy, down to Omaha.
Standing Bear told his story to the general, who was already familiar with
many wrongs that had been committed against the Indians, and who was
indignant at their treatment. He detained the Indians at Omaha until he
consulted with a Mr. Tibbies, an editor of a newspaper. They agreed to
espouse the cause of the Indians, securing to Standing Bear a trial in the
United States court. It was the most notable trial ever brought in the
West, and, in fact, the scope was as wide as any ever tried in this
country; for upon its decision one hundred thousand persons were made
citizens.
Mr. Tibbles, who attended every session of the court, describes what took
place, in the following words:--
"The court-room was crowded with fashionably dressed women; and the clergy,
which had been greatly stirred by the incident, were there in force.
Lawyers, every one in Nebraska, and many from the big Eastern cities;
business men; General Crook and his staff in their dress uniforms (this was
one of the few times in his life that Crook wore full dress in public); and
the Indians themselves, in their gaudy colors. The court-room was a galaxy
of brilliancy.
"On one side stood the army officers, the brilliantly dressed women, and
the white people; on the other was standing Bear, in his official robes as
chief of the Poncas, and with him were his leading men. Far back in the
audience, shrinking from observation, was an Indian girl, who afterward
became famous as a lecturer in England and America. She was later known on
both continents by a translation of her Indian name, In-sta-the-am-ba,
Bright Eyes.
"Attorney Poppleton's argument was carefully prepared, and consumed sixteen
hours in the delivering, occupying the attention of the court for two days.
On the third day Mr. Webster spoke for six hours. And during all the
proceedings, the court-room was packed with the beauty and culture of the
city.
"Toward the close of the trial, the situation became tense. As the wrongs
inflicted on the Indians were described by the attorneys, indignation was
often at white heat, and the judge made no attempt to suppress the applause
which broke out from time to time. For the department, Mr. Lambertson made
a short address, but was listened to in complete silence.
"It was late in the afternoon when the trial drew to a close. The
excitement had been increasing, but it reached a height not before attained
when Judge Dundy announced that Chief Standing Bear would be allowed to
make a speech in his own behalf. Not one in the audience besides the army
officers and Mr. Tibbies had ever heard an oration by an Indian. All of
them had read of the eloquence of Red Jacket and Logan, and they sat there
wondering if the mild-looking old man, with the lines of suffering and
sorrow on his brow and cheek, dressed in the full robes of an Indian chief,
could make a speech at all. It happened that there was a good interpreter
present--one who was used to 'chief talk.'
"Standing Bear arose. Half facing the audience, he held out his right hand,
and stood motionless so long that the stillness of death which had settled
down on the audience, became almost unbearable. At last, looking up at the
judge, he said:--
"'That hand is not the color of yours, but if I prick it, the blood will
flow, and I shall feel pain. The blood is of the same color as yours. God
made me, and I am a man. I never committed any crime. If I had, I would not
stand here to make a defense. I would suffer the punishment and make no
complaint.'
"Still standing half facing the audience, he looked past the judge, out of
the window, as if gazing upon something far in the distance, and
continued:--
"'I seem to be standing on a high bank of a great river, with my wife and
little girl at my side. I cannot cross the river, and impassable cliffs
arise behind me. I hear the noise of great waters; I look, and see a flood
coming. The waters rise to our feet, and then to our knees. My little girl
stretches her hands toward me and says, "Save me." I stand where no member
of my race ever stood before. There is no tradition to guide me. The chiefs
who preceded me knew nothing of the circumstances that surround me. I hear
only my little girl say, "Save me." In despair I look toward the cliffs
behind me, and I seem to see a dim trail that may lead to a way of life.
But no Indian ever passed over that trail. It looks to be impassable. I
make the attempt.'
"'I take my child by the hand, and my wife follows after me. Our hands and
our feet are torn by the sharp rocks, and our trail is marked by our blood.
At last I see a rift in the rocks. A little way beyond there are green
prairies. The swift-running water, the Niobrara, pours down between the
green hills. There are the graves of my fathers. There again we will pitch
our teepee and build our fires. I see the light of the world and of liberty
just ahead.'
"The old chief became silent again, and, after an appreciable pause, he
turned toward the judge with such a look of pathos and suffering on his
face that none who saw it will forget it, and said:--
"'But in the center of the path there stands a man. Behind him I see
soldiers in number like the leaves of the trees. If that man gives me the
permission, I may pass on to life and liberty. If he refuses, I must go
back and sink beneath the flood.'
"Then, in a lower tone, 'You are that man.'
"There was silence in the court as the old chief sat down. Tears ran down
over the judge's face. General Crook leaned forward and covered his face
with his hands. Some of the ladies sobbed.
"All at once that audience, by one common impulse, rose to its feet, and
such a shout went up as was never heard in a Nebraska court-room. No one
heard Judge Dundy say, 'Court is dismissed.' There was a rush for Standing
Bear. The first to reach him was General Crook. I was second. The ladies
flocked around him, and for an hour Standing Bear had a reception."
A few days afterward Judge Dundy handed down his famous decision, in which
he announced that an Indian was a "person," and was entitled to the
protection of the law. Standing Bear and his followers were set free; and,
with his old wagon and the body of the dead child, he went back to the
hunting-grounds of his fathers, and buried the body with tribal honors.
--_Indian Journal_.