THE CHEYENNES.
Our first treaty with the Cheyennes was made in 1825, at the mouth of
the Teton River. It was merely a treaty of amity and friendship, and
acknowledgment on the part of the Cheyennes of the "supremacy" of the
United States. Two years before this, President Monroe reported the
"Chayenes" to be "a tribe of three thousand two hundred and fifty souls,
dwelling and hunting on a river of the same name, a western tributary of
the Missouri, a little above the Great Bend." Ten years later, Catlin,
the famous painter of Indians, met a "Shienne" chief and squaw among the
Sioux, and painted their portraits. He says, "The Shiennes are a small
tribe of about three thousand in number, living neighbors to the Sioux
on the west of them, between the Black Hills and the Rocky Mountains.
There is no finer race of men than these in North America, and none
superior in stature, except the Osages: scarcely a man in the tribe full
grown who is less than six feet in height." They are "the richest in
horses of any tribe on the continent; living where the greatest herds of
wild horses are grazing on the prairies, which they catch in great
numbers, and sell to the Sioux, Mandans, and other tribes, as well as to
the fur-traders.
"These people are the most desperate set of warriors and horsemen,
having carried on almost unceasing wars with the Pawnees and Blackfeet.
The chief was clothed in a handsome dress of deer-skins, very neatly
garnished with broad bands of porcupine-quill work down the sleeves of
his shirt and leggings. The woman was comely, and beautifully dressed.
Her dress of the mountain-sheepskin tastefully ornamented with quills
and beads, and her hair plaited in large braids that hung down on her
breast."
In 1837 the agent for the "Sioux, Cheyennes, and Poncas" reports that
"all these Indians live exclusively by the chase;" and that seems to be
the sum and substance of his information about them. He adds, also, that
these remote wandering tribes have a great fear of the border tribes,
and wish to avoid them. In 1838 the Cheyennes are reported as carrying
on trade at a post on the Arkansas River near the Santa Fe road, but
still depending on the chase.
In 1842 they are spoken of as a "wandering tribe on the Platte;" and in
the same year, Mr. D. D. Mitchell, Supt. of Indian Affairs, with his
head-quarters at St. Louis, writes: "Generations will pass away before
this territory" [the territory in which the wild tribes of the Upper
Mississippi were then wandering] "becomes much more circumscribed; for
if we draw a line running north and south, so as to cross the Missouri
about the mouth of the Vermilion River, we shall designate the limits
beyond which civilized men are never likely to settle. At this point the
Creator seems to have said to the tides of emigration that are annually
rolling toward the West, 'Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther.' At
all events, if they go beyond this, they will never stop on the east
side of the Rocky Mountains. The utter destitution of timber, the
sterility of sandy soil, together with the coldness and dryness of the
climate, furnish obstacles which not even Yankee enterprise is likely to
overcome. A beneficent Creator seems to have intended this dreary region
as an asylum for the Indians, when the force of circumstances shall have
driven them from the last acre of the fertile soil which they once
possessed. Here no inducements are offered to the ever-restless Saxon
breed to erect their huts. *** The time may arrive when the whole of the
Western Indians will be forced to seek a resting-place in this Great
American Desert; and this, in all probability, will form a new era in
the history of this singular and ill-fated race. They will remain a
wandering, half civilized, though happy people. 'Their flocks and herds
will cover a thousand hills,' and will furnish beef and mutton for a
portion of the dense population of whites that will swarm in the more
fertile sections of the great valley of the Mississippi."
This line, recommended by Mr. Mitchell, runs just east of Dakota,
through the extreme eastern portion of Nebraska, a little to the east of
the middle of Kansas, through the middle of Indian Territory and Texas,
to the Gulf of Mexico. Montana, Idaho, Colorado, and New Mexico, all lie
west of it.
The records of the War Department for 1846 contain an interesting
account of a visit made to all the wild tribes of the Upper Missouri
Agency—the Yankton Sioux, the Arrikarees, Mandans, Assinaboines,
Arapahoes, Cheyennes, and others. In reply to the agent's remonstrances
with one of the Sioux chiefs in regard to their perpetual warring with
each other, the chief "was very laconic and decided, remarking 'that if
their great-grandfather desired them to cease to war with their enemies,
why did he not send each of them a petticoat, and make squaws of them at
once?'" This same chief refused to allow the boys of his tribe to go to
the Choctaw schools, saying, "They would return, as the few did who went
to St. Louis, drunkards, or die on the way."
The Cheyennes and other Indians living on the Platte complained bitterly
of the passage of the emigrants through their country. They said they
ought to be compensated for the right of way, and that the emigrants
should be restricted by law and the presence of a military force from
burning the grass, and from unnecessary destruction of game. They were
systematically plundered and demoralized by traders. Whiskey was to be
had without difficulty; sugar and coffee were sold at one dollar a
pound; ten-cent calico at one dollar a yard; corn at seventy-five cents
a gallon, and higher.
In 1847 a law was passed by Congress forbidding the introduction of
whiskey into the Indian country, and even the partial enforcement of
this law had a most happy effect. Foremost among those to acknowledge
the benefits of it were the traders themselves, who said that the
Indians' demand for substantial articles of trade was augmented two
hundred per cent.: "They enjoy much better health, look much better, and
are better people. *** You now rarely ever hear of a murder committed,
whereas when whiskey was plenty in that country murder was a daily
occurrence." These Indians themselves were said to be "opposed to the
introduction of ardent spirits into their country; *** but, like almost
all other Indians, will use it if you give it to them, and when under
its influence are dangerous and troublesome." There were at this time
nearly forty-six thousand of these Upper Missouri Indians. Five bands of
them—"the Sioux, Cheyennes, Gros Ventres, Mandans, and Poncas"—were
"excellent Indians, devotedly attached to the white man," living "in
peace and friendship with our Government," and "entitled to the special
favor and good opinion of the Department for their uniform good conduct
and pacific relations."
In 1848 it was estimated from the returns made by traders that the trade
of this agency amounted to $400,000. Among the items were 25,000 buffalo
tongues. In consequence of this prosperity on the part of the Indians,
there was a partial cessation of hostilities on the whites; but it was
still a perilous journey to cross the plains, and in 1849 the necessity
for making some sort of treaty stipulations with all these wild tribes
begins to be forced emphatically upon the attention of the United States
Government. A safe highway across the continent must be opened. It is a
noticeable thing, however, that, even as late as this in the history of
our diplomatic relations with the Indian, his right to a certain control
as well as occupancy of the soil was instinctively recognized. The
Secretary of the Interior, in his report for 1849, says: "The wild
tribes of Indians who have their hunting-grounds in the great prairie
through which our emigrants to California pass, have, during the year,
been more than usually pacific. They have suffered our people to pass
through their country with little interruption, though they travelled in
great numbers, and consumed on their route much grass and game. For
these the Indians expect compensation, and their claim is just."
The Secretary, therefore, concurs in the recommendation of the
Commissioner of Indian Affairs that treaties be negotiated with these
tribes, stipulating for the right of way through their country, and the
use of grass and game, paying them therefor small annuities in useful
articles of merchandise, and agricultural implements, and instruction.
"The right of way"—"through their country." A great deal is conceded,
covered, and conveyed by such phrases as these. If they mean anything,
they mean all that the Indians ever claimed.
The Indians were supposed to be influenced to this peaceableness and
good-will more by a hope of rewards and gifts than by a wholesome fear
of the power of the Government; and it was proposed to take a delegation
of chiefs to Washington, "in order that they may acquire some knowledge
of our greatness and strength, which will make a salutary impression on
them, and through them on their brethren," and "will tend to influence
them to continue peaceful relations."
It begins to dawn upon the Government's perception that peace is cheaper
as well as kinder than war. "We never can whip them into friendship,"
says one of the superintendents of the Upper Missouri Agency. A treaty
"can do no harm, and the expense would be less than that of a six
months' war. *** Justice as well as policy requires that we should make
some remuneration for the damages these Indians sustain in consequence
of the destruction of their game, timber, etc., by the whites passing
through their country."
"Their game, timber," "their country," again. The perpetual recurrence
of this possessive pronoun, and of such phrases as these in all that the
Government has said about the Indians, and in all that it has said to
them, is very significant.
In 1850 the Indian Commission writes that "it is much to be regretted
that no appropriation was made at the last session of Congress for
negotiating treaties with the wild tribes of the plains. These Indians
have long held undisputed possession of this extensive region; and,
regarding it as their own, they consider themselves entitled to
compensation not only for the right of way through their territory, but
for the great and injurious destruction of game, grass, and timber
committed by our troops and emigrants."
The bill providing for the negotiation of these treaties was passed
unanimously by the Senate, but "the unhappy difficulties existing on the
subject of slavery" delayed it in the House until it was too late to be
carried into effect.
All the tribes had been informed of this pending bill, and were looking
forward to it with great interest and anxiety. In 1849 they had all
expressed themselves as "very anxious to be instructed in agriculture
and the civilized arts." Already the buffalo herds were thinning and
disappearing. From time immemorial the buffalo had furnished them food,
clothing, and shelter; with its disappearance, starvation stared them in
the face, and they knew it. There can be no doubt that at this time all
the wild tribes of the Upper Missouri region—the Sioux, Cheyennes,
Arapahoes—were ready and anxious to establish friendly relations with
the United States Government, and to enter into some arrangement by
which some means of future subsistence, and some certainty of lands
enough to live on, could be secured to them. Meantime they hunted with
greater diligence than ever; and in this one year alone had sold to the
fur-traders within the limits of one agency $330,000 worth of
buffalo-robes, and "furs, peltries, and miscellaneous goods to the
amount of $60,000. What they thus receive for their furs, robes, etc.,
would be ample for their support," says Hatton, "were it not that they
have to give such exorbitant prices for what they purchase from the
whites."
In the winter and spring of 1850 all these tribes were visited by an
agent of the Government. He reported them as "friendly disposed," but
very impatient to come to some understanding about the right of way.
"This is what the Indians want, and what they are anxious about; having
been told long since, and so often repeated by travellers passing (who
care little about the consequences of promises so they slip through
safely and unmolested themselves), that their 'Great Father' would soon
reward them liberally for the right of way, the destruction of timber,
game, etc., as well as for any kindness shown Americans passing through
their country."
In the summer of 1851 this much desired treaty was made. Seven of the
prairie and mountain tribes gathered in great force at Fort Laramie. The
report of this council contains some interesting and noticeable points.
"We were eighteen days encamped together, during which time the Indians
conducted themselves in a manner that excited the admiration and
surprise of every one. The different tribes, although hereditary
enemies, interchanged daily visits, both in their individual and
national capacities; smoked and feasted together; exchanged presents;
adopted each other's children, according to their own customs; and did
all that was held sacred or solemn in the eyes of these Indians to prove
the sincerity of their peaceful and friendly intentions, both among
themselves and with the citizens of the United States lawfully residing
among them or passing through the country."
By this treaty the Indians formally conceded to the United States the
right to establish roads, military or otherwise, throughout the Indian
country, "so far as they claim or exercise ownership over it."
They agreed "to maintain peaceful relations among themselves, and to
abstain from all depredations upon whites passing through their country,
and to make restitution for any damages or loss that a white man shall
sustain by the acts of their people."
For all the damages which they had suffered up to that time in
consequence of the passing of the whites through their country, they
accepted the presents then received as payment in full.
An annuity of $50,000 a year for fifty years to come was promised to
them. This was the price of the "right of way."
"Fifty thousand dollars for a limited period of years is a small amount
to be distributed among at least fifty thousand Indians, especially when
we consider that we have taken away, or are rapidly taking away from
them all means of support," says one of the makers of this treaty. There
would probably be no dissent from this opinion. A dollar a year, even
assured to one for fifty years, seems hardly an adequate compensation
for the surrender of all other "means of support."
The report continues: "Viewing the treaty in all its provisions, I am
clearly of opinion that it is the best that could have been made for
both parties. I am, moreover, of the opinion that it will be observed
and carried out in as good faith on the part of the Indians as it will
on the part of the United States and the white people thereof. There was
an earnest solemnity and a deep conviction of the necessity of adopting
some such measures evident in the conduct and manners of the Indians
throughout the whole council. On leaving for their respective homes, and
bidding each other adieu, they gave the strongest possible evidence of
their friendly intentions for the future, and the mutual confidence and
good faith which they had in each other. Invitations were freely given
and as freely accepted by each of the tribes to interchange visits,
talk, and smoke together like brothers, upon ground where they had never
before met except for the purpose of scalping each other. This, to my
mind, was conclusive evidence of the sincerity of the Indians, and
nothing but bad management or some untoward misfortune ever can break
it."
The Secretary of the Interior, in his report for this year, speaks with
satisfaction of the treaties negotiated with Indians during the year,
and says: "It cannot be denied that most of the depredations committed
by the Indians on our frontiers are the offspring of dire necessity. The
advance of our population compels them to relinquish their fertile
lands, and seek refuge in sterile regions which furnish neither corn nor
game: impelled by hunger, they seize the horses, mules, and cattle of
the pioneers, to relieve their wants and satisfy the cravings of nature.
They are immediately pursued, and, when overtaken, severely punished.
This creates a feeling of revenge on their part, which seeks its
gratification in outrages on the persons and property of peaceable
inhabitants. The whole country then becomes excited, and a desolating
war, attended with a vast sacrifice of blood and treasure, ensues. This,
it is believed, is a true history of the origin of most of our Indian
hostilities.
"All history admonishes us of the difficulty of civilizing a wandering
race who live mainly upon game. To tame a savage you must tie him down
to the soil. You must make him understand the value of property, and the
benefits of its separate ownership. You must appeal to those selfish
principles implanted by Divine Providence in the nature of man for the
wisest purposes, and make them minister to civilization and refinement.
You must encourage the appropriation of lands by individuals; attach
them to their homes by the ties of interest; teach them the uses of
agriculture and the arts of peace; *** and they should be taught to look
forward to the day when they may be elevated to the dignity of American
citizenship.
"By means like these we shall soon reap our reward in the suppression of
Indian depredations; in the diminution of the expenses of the Department
of War; in a valuable addition to our productive population; in the
increase of our agriculture and commerce; and in the proud consciousness
that we have removed from our national escutcheon the stain left on it
by our acknowledged injustice to the Indian race."
We find the Cheyennes, therefore, in 1851, pledged to peace and
good-will toward their Indian neighbors, and to the white emigrants
pouring through their country. For this conceded right of way they are
to have a dollar a year apiece, in "goods and animals;" and it is
supposed that they will be able to eke out this support by hunting
buffaloes, which are still not extinct.
In 1852 the Commissioner of Indian Affairs writes: "Notwithstanding the
mountain and prairie Indians continue to suffer from the vast number of
emigrants who pass through their country, destroying their means of
support, and scattering disease and death among them, yet those who were
parties to the treaty concluded at Fort Laramie, in the fall of 1851,
have been true to their obligations, and have remained at peace among
themselves and with the whites."
And the superintendent writes: "Congress made a very liberal
appropriation of $100,000 to make a treaty with the prairie and mountain
tribes. A very satisfactory treaty was made with them last fall at Fort
Laramie, the conditions of which, on their part, have been faithfully
observed—no depredations having been committed during the past season by
any of the tribes parties to the Fort Laramie treaty. The Senate amended
the treaty, substituting _fifteen_ instead of _fifty_ years as the
period for which they were to have received an annual supply of goods,
animals, etc., at the discretion of the President. This modification of
the treaty I think very proper, as the condition of these wandering
hordes will be entirely changed during the next fifteen years. The
treaty, however, should have been sent back to the Indians for the
purpose of obtaining their sanction to the modification, as was done in
the case of the Sioux treaty negotiated by Commissioners Ramsey and Lea.
It is hoped this oversight will be corrected as early as practicable
next spring, otherwise the large amounts already expended will have been
uselessly wasted, and the Indians far more dissatisfied than ever."
To comment on the bad faith of this action on the part of Congress would
be a waste of words; but its impolicy is so glaring that one's
astonishment cannot keep silent—its impolicy and also its incredible
niggardliness. A dollar apiece a year, "in goods, animals," etc., those
Indians had been promised that they should have for fifty years. It must
have been patent to the meanest intellect that this was little to pay
each year to any one man from whom we were taking away, as the
commissioner said, "his means of support." But, unluckily for the
Indians, there were fifty thousand of them. It entered into some thrifty
Congressman's head to multiply fifty by fifty, and the aggregate
terrified everybody. This was much more likely to have been the cause of
the amendment than the cause assigned by the superintendent, viz., the
probable change of localities of all the "wandering hordes" in the next
fifteen years. No doubt it would be troublesome to the last degree to
distribute fifty thousand dollars, "in goods, animals," etc., to fifty
thousand Indians wandering over the entire Upper Missouri region; but no
more troublesome, surely, in the sixteenth year than in the fifteenth.
The sophistry is too transparent; it does not in the least gloss over
the fact that, within the first year after the making of our first
treaty of any moment with these tribes—while they to a man, the whole
fifty thousand of them, kept their faith with us—we broke ours with them
in the meanest of ways—robbing them of more than two-thirds of the money
we had promised to pay.
All the tribes "promptly" assented to this amendment, however; so says
the Annual Report of the Indian Commissioner for 1853; and adds that,
with a single exception, they have maintained friendly relations among
themselves, and "manifested an increasing confidence in and kindness
toward the whites."
Some of them have begun to raise corn, beans, pumpkins, etc., but depend
chiefly on the hunt for their support. But the agent who was sent to
distribute to them their annuities, and to secure their assent to the
amendment to the treaty, reports: "The Cheyennes and the Arapahoes, and
many of the Sioux, are actually in a starving state. They are in abject
want of food half the year, and their reliance for that scanty supply,
in the rapid decrease of the buffalo, is fast disappearing. The travel
upon the roads drives them off, or else confines them to a narrow path
during the period of emigration, and the different tribes are forced to
contend with hostile nations in seeking support for their villages.
Their women are pinched with want, and their children constantly crying
with hunger. Their arms, moreover, are unfitted to the pursuit of
smaller game, and thus the lapse of a few years presents only the
prospect of a gradual famine." And in spite of such suffering, these
Indians commit no depredations, and show increasing confidence in and
kindness toward the whites.
This agent, who has passed many years among the Indians, speaks with
great feeling of the sad prospect staring them in the face. He says:
"But one course remains which promises any permanent relief to them, or
any lasting benefit to the country in which they dwell; that is, simply
to make such modifications in the 'intercourse' laws as will invite the
residence of traders among them, and open the whole Indian Territory for
settlement. Trade is the only civilizer of the Indian. It has been the
precursor of all civilization heretofore, and it will be of all
hereafter. It teaches the Indian the value of other things besides the
spoils of the chase, and offers to him other pursuits and excitements
than those of war. All obstructions to its freedom, therefore, only
operate injuriously. *** The Indians would soon lose their nomadic
character, and forget the relations of tribes. *** And this, while it
would avoid the cruel necessity of our present policy—to wit,
extinction—would make them an element in the population, and sharer in
the prosperity of the country." He says of the "system of removals, and
congregating tribes in small parcels of territory," that it has
"eventuated injuriously on those who have been subjected to it. It is
the legalized murder of a whole nation. It is expensive, vicious, and
inhuman, and producing these consequences, and these alone. The custom,
being judged by its fruits, should not be persisted in."
It is in the face of such statements, such protests as these, that the
United States Government has gone steadily on with its policy, so
called, in regard to the treatment of the Indian.
In 1854 the report from the Upper Missouri region is still of peace and
fidelity on the part of all the Indians who joined in the Fort Laramie
treaty. "Not a single instance of murder, robbery, or other depredation
has been committed by them, either on the neighboring tribes parties to
the treaty or on whites. This is the more remarkable, as before the
treaty they were foremost in the van of thieves and robbers—always at
war, pillaging whoever they met, and annoying their own traders in their
own forts."
In the summer of this year the Cheyennes began to be dissatisfied and
impertinent. At a gathering of the northern band at Fort Laramie, one of
the chiefs demanded that the travel over the Platte road should be
stopped. He also, if the interpreter was to be relied on, said that next
year the Government must send them out one thousand white women for
wives. The Southern Cheyennes had given up to their agent some Mexican
prisoners whom they had taken in the spring, and this act, it was
supposed, had seemed to the northern band a needless interference on the
part of the United States. Moreover, it was a matter constantly open to
the observation of all friendly Indians that the hostiles, who were
continually plundering and attacking emigrant trains, made, on the
whole, more profit out of war than they made out of peace. On the North
Platte road during this year the Pawnees alone had stolen several
thousands of dollars' worth of goods; and, in addition to this, there
was the pressure of public sentiment—a thing which is as powerful among
Indians as among whites. It was popular to be on the war-path: the
whites were invaders; it was brave and creditable to slay them. Taking
all these things into account, it was only to be wondered at that these
Cheyennes, Arapahoes, and Sioux kept to the provisions of their treaty
at all. Nevertheless, the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, and some bands of the
Sioux continued peaceable and friendly; and in 1855 they begged to be
supplied with a farmer to teach them how to farm; also with a
blacksmith. Their agent strongly recommends that this be done, saying
that there is not "in the whole Indian country a more favorable location
for a farm for grazing stock and game than the South Platte. In a very
short period of time the Arapahoes and Cheyennes would become fixed and
settled, and a part of each tribe—the old women and men—would become
agriculturists; rude, it is true, yet sufficiently skilful to raise
corn, potatoes, and beans, and dwell in cabins or fixed habitations."
In the summer of 1856 the Cheyennes were, by a disastrous accident,
forced into the position of hostiles. A small war-band went out to
attack the Pawnees; they were in camp near the North Platte road: as the
mail-wagon was passing, two of the Cheyennes ran toward it to beg
tobacco. The mail-carrier, terrified, fired on them, and the Indians
fired back, wounding him; the chiefs rushed out, stopped the firing,
explained the matter, and then severely flogged the Indians who had
returned the mail-carrier's fire. But the mischief had been done.
The mail-carrier reported his having been fired at by a Cheyenne Indian,
and the next day troops from Fort Kearny attacked the Indians and killed
six of the war-party. The rest refused to fight, and ran away, leaving
their camp and all it contained. The war-party, thoroughly exasperated,
attacked an emigrant train, killed two men and a child, and took one
woman captive. The next day they killed her, because she could not ride
on horseback and keep up with them. Within a short time two more small
war-parties had left the band, attacked trains, and killed two men, two
women, and a child. The chiefs at first could not restrain them, but in
September they sent a delegation to the agency to ask their agent's
assistance and advice. They said that the war-party was now completely
under their control, and they wished to know what they could do. They
implored the Great Father not to be angry with them, "for they could not
control the war-party when they saw their friends killed by soldiers
after they had thrown down their bows and arrows and begged for life."
In October the agent reported that the Cheyennes were "perfectly quiet
and peaceable, and entirely within control, and obedient to authority."
The chiefs had organized a sort of police, whose duty was to kill any
war-parties that might attempt to leave the camp.
Through the winter the Cheyennes remained in the south and south-eastern
parts of the agency, and strictly observed the conditions which their
agent had imposed upon them. In the following August, however, a
military force under General Sumner was sent out "to demand from the
tribe the perpetrators of their late outrages on the whites, and ample
security for their good conduct." The Cheyennes were reported by General
Sumner as showing no disposition to yield to these demands; he therefore
attacked them, burnt their village to the ground, and destroyed their
winter supplies—some fifteen or twenty thousand pounds of buffalo meat.
Of how they lived, and where, during the winter following this fight,
there is little record. In the next year's reports the Cheyennes are
said to be very anxious for a new treaty, which will assign to them a
country in which they can dwell safely. "They said they had learned a
lesson last summer in their fight with General Sumner—that it was
useless to contend with the white man, who would soon with his villages
occupy the whole prairie. They wanted peace; and as the buffalo—their
principal dependence for food and clothing (which even now they were
compelled to seek many miles from home, where their natural enemies, the
Pawnee and Osage, roamed), would soon disappear entirely, they hoped
their Great Father, the white chief at Washington, would listen to them,
and give them a home where they might be provided for and protected
against the encroachments of their white brothers, until at least they
had been taught to cultivate the soil and other arts of civilized life.
They have often desired ploughs and hoes, and to be taught their use."
The next year's records show the Government itself aware that some
measures must be taken to provide for these troublesome wild tribes of
the prairie: almost more perplexing in time of peace than in time of war
is the problem of the disposition to be made of them. Agents and
superintendents alike are pressing on the Government's attention the
facts and the bearing of the rapid settling of the Indian lands by the
whites; the precariousness of peaceful relations; the dangers of Indian
wars. The Indians themselves are deeply anxious and disturbed.
"They have heard that all of the Indian tribes to the eastward of them
have ceded their lands to the United States, except small reservations;
and hence, by an Indian's reasoning, in a few years these tribes will
emigrate farther west, and, as a matter of necessity, occupy the
hunting-grounds of the wild tribes."
When the agent of the Upper Platte Agency tried to reason on this
subject with one of the Sioux chiefs, the chief said: "When I was a
young man, and I am not yet fifty, I travelled with my people through
the country of the Sac and Fox tribe, to the great water Minne Toukah
(Mississippi), where I saw corn growing, but no white people; continuing
eastward, we came to the Rock River valley, and saw the Winnebagoes, but
no white people. We then came to the Fox River valley, and thence to the
Great Lake (Lake Michigan), where we found a few white people in the
Pottawattomie country. Thence we returned to the Sioux country at the
Great Falls of Irara (St. Anthony), and had a feast of green corn with
our relations, who resided there. Afterward we visited the pipe-clay
quarry in the country of the Yankton Sioux, and made a feast to the
'Great Medicine,' and danced the 'sun dance,' and then returned to our
hunting-grounds on the prairie. And now our Father tells us the white
man will never settle on our lands, and kill our game; but see! the
whites cover all of those lands I have just described, and also the
lands of the Poncas, Omahas, and Pawnees. On the South Platte the white
people are finding gold, and the Cheyennes and Arapahoes have no longer
any hunting-grounds. Our country has become very small, and before our
children are grown up we shall have no game."
In the autumn of this year (1859) an agent was sent to hold a council
with the Cheyennes and Arapahoes, and tell them of the wish of the
Government that they should "assume a fixed residence, and occupy
themselves in agriculture. This they at once received with favor, and
declared with great unanimity to be acceptable to them. They expected
and asked that the Department shall supply them with what is necessary
to establish themselves permanently. *** Both these tribes had
scrupulously maintained peaceful relations with the whites, and with
other Indian tribes, notwithstanding the many causes of irritation
growing out of the occupation of the gold region, and the emigration to
it through their hunting-grounds, which are no longer reliable as a
certain source of food to them."
It was estimated that during the summer of 1859 over sixty thousand
emigrants crossed these plains in their central belt. The trains of
vehicles and cattle were frequent and valuable in proportion; and post
lines and private expresses were in constant motion.
In 1860 a commissioner was sent out to hold a council with the Cheyennes
and Arapahoes at Bent's Fort, on the Upper Arkansas, and make a treaty
with them. The Arapahoes were fully represented; but there were present
only two prominent chiefs of the Cheyennes—Black Kettle and White
Antelope. (White Antelope was one of the chiefs brutally murdered five
years later in the Chivington massacre in Colorado.) As it was
impossible for the rest of the Cheyennes to reach the Fort in less than
twenty days, and the commissioner could not wait so long, Black Kettle
and White Antelope wished it to be distinctly understood that they
pledged only themselves and their own bands.
The commissioner says: "I informed them as to the object of my visit,
and gave them to understand that their Great Father had heard with
delight of their peaceful disposition, although they were almost in the
midst of the hostile tribes. They expressed great pleasure on learning
that their Great Father had heard of their good conduct, and requested
me to say, in return, that they intended in every respect to conform to
the wishes of the Government. I then presented to them a diagram of the
country assigned them, by their treaty of 1851, as their
hunting-grounds, which they seemed to understand perfectly, and were
enabled without difficulty to give each initial point. In fact, they
exhibited a degree of intelligence seldom to be found among tribes where
no effort has been made to civilize them. I stated to them that it was
the intention of their Great Father to reduce the area of their present
reservation, and that they should settle down and betake themselves to
agriculture, and eventually abandon the chase as a means of support.
They informed me that such was their wish; and that they had been aware
for some time that they would be compelled to do so: that game was
growing more scarce every year, and that they had also noticed the
approach of whites, and felt that they must soon, in a great measure,
conform to their habits. *** It has not fallen to my lot to visit any
Indians who seem more disposed to yield to the wishes of the Government
than the Cheyennes and Arapahoes. Notwithstanding they are fully aware
of the rich mines discovered in their country, they are disposed to
yield up their claims without any reluctance. They certainly deserve the
fostering hand of the Government, and should be liberally encouraged in
their new sphere of life."
This treaty was concluded in February of the next year, at Fort Wise.
The chiefs of the Cheyennes and Arapahoes there "ceded and relinquished"
all the lands to which they had any claim, "wherever situated," except a
certain tract whose boundaries were defined. The land relinquished
included lands in Kansas and Nebraska, and all of that part of Colorado
which is north of the Arkansas, and east of the Rocky Mountains.
The Cheyennes and Arapahoes, in "consideration of their kind treatment
by the citizens of Denver and the adjoining towns," "respectfully
requested," in the eleventh Article of this treaty, that the United
States would permit the proprietors of these towns to enter their lands
at the minimum price of one dollar and twenty-five cents an acre. This
Article was struck out by the Senate, and the Indians consented to the
amendment; but the proof of their good-will and gratitude remained on
record, nevertheless.
The desire of the Government to make farmers of these Indians was
reiterated in this treaty, and evidenced by pledges of purchase of
stock, agricultural implements, etc.; mills, also, and mechanic shops
they were to have, and an annuity of $30,000 a year for fifteen years.
There was this clause, however, in an article of the treaty, "Their
annuities may, at the discretion of the President of the United States,
be discontinued entirely should said Indians fail to make reasonable and
satisfactory efforts to improve and advance their condition; in which
case such other provision shall be made for them as the President and
Congress may judge to be suitable or proper." Could there be a more
complete signing away than this of all benefits provided for by the
treaty?
Lands were to be assigned to them "in severalty," and certificates were
to be issued by the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, specifying the names
of individuals; and that the "said tracts were set apart for the
exclusive use and benefit of the assignees and their heirs." Each Indian
was to have forty acres of land, "to include in every case, as far as
practicable, a reasonable portion of timber and water."
The tenth Article of the treaty provided that the annuities now paid to
the Arapahoes and Cheyennes should be continued to them until the
stipulations of such treaties or articles of agreement should be
fulfilled; and the seventh Article provided that the President, with the
assent of Congress, should have power to modify or change any "of the
provisions of former treaties" "in such manner and to whatever extent"
he might judge it to be necessary and expedient for their best
interests.
Could a community of people be delivered up more completely bound and at
the mercy of a government? Some of the bands of the Cheyennes who were
not represented at this council were much dissatisfied with the treaty,
as evidently they had great reason to be. And as time went on, all the
bands became dissatisfied. Two years later we find that, instead of
their being settled on those farms "in severalty," the survey of their
lands has been just completed, and that "a contract will soon be made
for the construction of a ditch for the purpose of irrigating their
arable land." "It is to be hoped," the Superintendent of the Colorado
Agency writes, that "when suitable preparations for their subsistence by
agriculture and grazing are made, these tribes will gradually cease
their roaming, and become permanently settled." It would seem highly
probable that under those conditions the half-starved creatures would be
only too glad to cease to roam. It is now ten years since they were
reported to be in a condition of miserable starvation every winter,
trying to raise a little corn here and there, and begging to have a
farmer and a blacksmith sent out to them. They are now divided and
subdivided into small bands, hunting the buffalo wherever they can find
him, and going in small parties because there are no longer large herds
of buffaloes to be found anywhere. The Governor of Colorado says, in his
report for 1863, that "these extensive subdivisions of the tribes caused
great difficulty in ascertaining the really guilty parties in the
commission of offences." Depredations and hostilities are being
frequently committed, but it is manifestly unjust to hold the whole
tribe responsible for the acts of a few.
Things grew rapidly worse in Colorado. Those "preparations for their
subsistence by agriculture and grazing"—which it took so much room to
tell in the treaty—not having been made; the farmer, and the blacksmith,
and the grist-mill not having arrived; the contract not having been even
let for the irrigating-ditch, without which no man can raise any crops
in Colorado, not even on arable lands—many of the Cheyennes and
Arapahoes took to a system of pilfering reprisals from emigrant trains,
and in the fights resulting from this effort to steal they committed
many terrible murders. All the tribes on the plains were more or less
engaged in these outrages; and it was evident, before midsummer of 1864,
that the Government must interfere with a strong hand to protect the
emigrants and Western settlers—to protect them from the consequences of
its own bad faith with the Indians. The Governor of Colorado called for
military aid, and for authority to make a campaign against the Indians,
which was given him. But as there was no doubt that many of the Indians
were still peaceable and loyal, and he desired to avoid every
possibility of their sharing in the punishment of the guilty, he issued
a proclamation in June, requesting all who were friendly to come to
places which he designated, where they were to be assured of safety and
protection. This proclamation was sent to all the Indians of the plains.
In consequence of it, several bands of friendly Arapahoes and Cheyennes
came to Fort Lyon, and were there received by the officer in charge,
rationed, and assured of safety. Here there occurred, on the 29th of
November, one of the foulest massacres which the world has seen. This
camp of friendly Indians was surprised at daybreak, and men, women, and
children were butchered in cold blood. Most of those who escaped fled to
the north, and, joining other bands of the tribe, proceeded at once to
take most fearful, and, it must be said, natural revenge. A terrible war
followed. Some of them confederated with the Sioux, and waged relentless
war on all the emigrant routes across the plains. These hostilities were
bitter in proportion to the bitterness of resentment felt by the
refugees from this massacre. "It will be long before faith in the honor
and humanity of the whites can be re-established in the minds of these
barbarians," says an official report, "and the last Indian who escaped
from the brutal scene at Sand Creek will probably have died before its
effects will have disappeared."[10]
Footnote 10:
See Appendix, Arts. I. and XI.
In October of the next year some of the bands, having first had their
safety assured by an old and tried friend, I. H. Leavenworth, Indian
Agent for the Upper Arkansas, gathered together to hold a council with
United States Commissioners on the Little Arkansas. The commissioners
were empowered by the President to restore to the survivors of the Sand
Creek massacre full value for all the property then destroyed; "to make
reparation," so far as possible. To each woman who had lost a husband
there they gave one hundred and sixty acres of land; to each child who
had lost a parent, the same. Probably even an Indian woman would
consider one hundred and sixty acres of land a poor equivalent for a
murdered husband; but the offers were accepted in good part by the
tribe, and there is nothing in all the history of this patient race more
pathetic than the calm and reasonable language employed by some of these
Cheyenne and Arapahoe chiefs at this council. Said Black Kettle, the
chief over whose lodge the American flag, with a white flag tied below,
was floating at the time of the massacre, "I once thought that I was the
only man that persevered to be the friend of the white man; but since
they have come and cleaned out our lodges, horses, and everything else,
it is hard for me to believe white men any more. *** All my friends, the
Indians that are holding back, they are afraid to come in; are afraid
that they will be betrayed as I have been. I am not afraid of white men,
but come and take you by the hand." Elsewhere, Black Kettle spoke of
Colonel Chivington's troops as "that fool-band of soldiers that cleared
out our lodges, and killed our women and children. This is hard on us."
With a magnanimity and common-sense which white men would have done well
to imitate in their judgments of the Indians, he recognized that it
would be absurd, as well as unjust, to hold all white men in distrust on
account of the acts of that "fool-band of soldiers."[11]
Footnote 11:
Gen. Harney, on being asked by Bishop Whipple if Black Kettle were a
hostile Indian, replied, laying his hand on his heart, "I have worn
this uniform fifty-five years. He was as true a friend of the white
man as I am."
By the terms of this treaty, a new reservation was to be set apart for
the Cheyennes and Arapahoes; hostile acts on either side were to be
settled by arbitration; no whites were to be allowed on the reservation;
a large tract of country was to be "relinquished" by the Indians, but
they were "expressly permitted to reside upon and range at pleasure
throughout the unsettled portions of that part of the country they claim
as originally theirs." The United States reserved the right to build
roads and establish forts in the reservation, and pledged itself to pay
"annually, for the period of forty years," certain sums of money to each
person in the tribe: twenty dollars a head till they were settled on
their reservation; after that, forty dollars a head. To this end an
accurate annual census of the Indians was promised at the time of the
annuity payment in the spring.
The Indians went away from this council full of hope and satisfaction.
Their oldest friends, Colonel Bent and Kit Carson, were among the
commissioners, and they felt that at last they had a treaty they could
trust. Their old reservation in Colorado (to which they probably could
never have been induced to return) was restored to the public domain of
that territory, and they hoped in their new home for greater safety and
peace. The Apaches, who had heretofore been allied with the Kiowas and
Comanches, were now allied with them, and to have the benefits of the
new treaty. A small portion of the tribe—chiefly young men of a
turbulent nature—still held aloof, and refused to come under the treaty
provisions. One riotous band, called the Dog Soldiers, were especially
refractory; but, before the end of the next year, they also decided to
go southward and join the rest of the tribe on the new reservation.
Occasional hostilities took place in the course of the winter, one of
which it is worth while to relate, the incident is so typical a one.
On the 21st of February a son of one Mr. Boggs was killed and scalped by
a party of four Cheyenne Indians about six miles east of Fort Dodge, on
the Arkansas River. On investigation, it appeared that Mr. Boggs had
gone to the Indian camp without any authority, and had there traded off
eleven one-dollar bills for ten-dollar bills. The Indian on whom this
trick had been played found Mr. Boggs out, went to him, and demanded
reparation; and, in the altercation and fight which ensued, Mr. Boggs's
son was killed. This story is given in the official report of
Lieutenant-colonel Gordon, U.S.A., and Colonel Gordon adds, "I think
this case needs no further comment."
The Cheyennes did not long remain at peace; in the summer the Senate had
added to this last treaty an amendment requiring their new reservation
to be entirely "outside the State of Kansas, and not within any Indian
territory, except on consent of the tribes interested." As the
reservation had been partly in Kansas, and partly on the lands of the
Cherokees, this amendment left them literally without any home whatever.
Under these circumstances, the young men of the tribe soon began to join
again with other hostile Indians in committing depredations and
hostilities along the great mail-routes on the plains. Again they were
visited with summary and apparently deserved vengeance by the United
States troops, and in the summer of 1867 a Cheyenne village numbering
three hundred lodges was burnt by United States soldiers under General
Hancock. Fortunately the women and children had all fled on the first
news of the approach of the army. Soon after this another council was
held with them, and once more the precarious peace was confirmed by
treaty; but was almost immediately broken again in consequence of the
failure of the Government to comply with the treaty provisions. That
some members of these tribes had also failed to keep to the treaty
provisions is undoubtedly true, but by far the greater part of them were
loyal and peaceable. "The substantial cause of this war," however, was
acknowledged by the Indian Bureau itself to be "the fact that the
Department, for want of appropriations, was compelled to stop their
supplies, and to permit them to recur to the chase for subsistence."
In 1868 "the country bounded east by the State of Arkansas, south by
Texas, north by Kansas, and west by the hundredth meridian of longitude,
was set apart for the exclusive use of the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas,
and Comanches, and such other bands as might be located there by proper
authority;" and the whole was declared to constitute "a military
district," under command of Major-general Hazen, U.S.A. In October of
the same year Major Wynkoop, who had been the faithful friend of the
Cheyennes and Arapahoes ever since the days of Sand Creek, published his
last protest in their behalf, in a letter to the Commissioner of Indian
Affairs. He says that the failure of the Government to fulfil treaty
provisions in the matter of supplies forced them to resort to hunting
again; and then the refusal of the Government to give them the arms and
ammunition promised in the treaty, left them without any means of
securing the game; hence the depredations. The chiefs had promised to
deliver up the guilty ones to Major Wynkoop, "but before sufficient time
had elapsed for them to fulfil their promises the troops were in the
field, and the Indians in flight. *** Even after the majority of the
Cheyennes had been forced to take the war-path, in consequence of the
bad acts of some of their nation, several bands of the Cheyennes, and
the whole Arapahoe tribe, could have been kept at peace had proper
action been taken at the time; but now all the Indians of the Upper
Arkansas are engaged in the struggle."[12]
Footnote 12:
On October 27th of this year Black Kettle and his entire band were
killed by Gen. Custer's command at Antelope Hills, on the Wichita
River.
In 1869 many Arapahoes and Cheyennes had made their way to Montana, and
were living with the Gros Ventres; most of those who remained at the
south were quiet, and seemed to be disposed to observe the provisions of
the treaty, but were earnestly imploring to be moved farther to the
north, where they might hunt buffalo.
In 1870, under the care of an agent of the Society of Friends, the
improvement of the Southern Cheyennes was remarkable. Buildings were put
up, land was broken and planted, and the agent reports that, "with
proper care on the part of the Government," there will not be any
"serious trouble" with the tribe, although there are still some
"restless spirits" among them.
In 1872 the Cheyennes and Arapahoes are reported as "allied to the
Government in the maintenance of peace on the border. Very strong
inducements have been made by the raiding bands of Kiowas, at critical
times in the past two years, to join them in hostile alliance in raids
against the whites; but all such appeals have been rejected, and, as a
tribe, they have remained loyal and peaceful."
Thirty lodges of the Northern Cheyennes returned this year and joined
their tribe, but many of them were still roaming among the Northern
Sioux. In 1874 there were said to be over three thousand of these
Northern Cheyennes and Arapahoes at the Red Cloud Agency. The Government
refused any longer to permit them to stay there; and, after repeated
protests, and expressions of unwillingness to move, they at last
consented to go to the Indian Territory. But their removal was deferred,
on account of the unsettled state of the Southern Cheyennes. Early in
the spring troubles had broken out among them, in consequence of a raid
of horse-thieves on their reservation. The chief, Little Robe, lost
forty-three head of valuable ponies. These ponies were offered for sale
in Dodge City, Kansas, where Little Robe's son, with a small band of
young men, made an unsuccessful effort to reclaim them. Failing in this,
the band, on their way back, stole the first stock they came to; were
pursued by the Kansas farmers, the stock recaptured, and Little Robe's
son badly wounded. This was sufficient to bring on a general war against
white men in the whole region; and the history of the next few months
was a history of murders and outrages by Cheyennes, Kiowas, Osages, and
Comanches. Sixty lodges of the Cheyennes took refuge under the
protection of the United States troops at the agency, and the old
problem returned again, how to punish the guilty without harming the
innocent. A vigorous military campaign was carried on under General
Miles against the hostiles until, in the spring of 1875, the main body
surrendered. Wretched, half starved, more than half naked, without
lodges, ponies—a more pitiable sight was never seen than this band of
Indians. It was inconceivable how they had so long held out; nothing but
a well-nigh indomitable pride and inextinguishable hatred of the whites
and sense of wrongs could have supported them. It was decided that
thirty-three of the most desperate ones should be sent as prisoners to
St. Augustine, Florida; but before the selection was completed a general
stampede among the surrendered braves took place, resulting in the final
escape of some four hundred. They held their ground from two P.M. until
dark against three companies of cavalry and two Gatling guns, and,
"under cover of an extremely dark and stormy night, escaped, leaving
only three dead on the field." It is impossible not to admire such
bravery as this. The Report of the Indian Bureau for 1875 says of the
condition of affairs at this agency at this time: "The friendly
Cheyennes have had their loyalty put to the severest test by comparing
their own condition with that of the full-fed and warmly-housed captives
of the War Department. Notwithstanding all privations, they have been
unswerving in their friendship, and ever ready to assist the agent in
maintaining order, and compelling the Northern Cheyennes who have
visited the agency to submit to a count." In consequence of the
hostilities, they were obliged to remain close to the agency in camp—a
hardship that could hardly be endured, and resulted in serious
suffering. Their rations were not enough to subsist them, and yet, being
cut off from hunting, they were entirely dependent on them. And even
these inadequate rations did not arrive when they were due. Their agent
writes, in 1875: "On last year's flour contract not a single pound was
received until the fourteenth day of First Month, 1875, when six months
of cold weather and many privations had passed, notwithstanding the many
protestations and urgent appeals from the agent."
The now thoroughly subjugated Cheyennes went to work with a will. In one
short year they are reported as so anxious to cultivate the ground that,
when they could not secure the use of a plough or hoe, they used "axes,
sticks of wood, and their hands, in preparing the ground, planting and
cultivating their garden spots."
The Northern Cheyennes are still on the Red Cloud Agency, and are
reported as restless and troublesome.
In 1877 they were all removed to the Cheyenne and Arapahoe Agency, in
Indian Territory. The Reports of the Department say that they asked to
be taken there. The winter of 1866 and the summer of 1867 were seasons
of great activity and interest at this agency. In the autumn they went
off on a grand buffalo hunt, accompanied by a small detail of troops
from Fort Reno. Early in the winter white horse-thieves began to make
raids on their ponies, and stole so many that many of the Indians were
obliged to depend on their friends' ponies to help them return home. Two
hundred and sixty in all were stolen—carried, as usual, to Dodge City
and sold. A few were recovered; but the loss to the Indians was
estimated at two thousand nine hundred dollars. "Such losses are very
discouraging to the Indians," writes their agent, and are "but a
repetition of the old story that brought on the war of 1874."
In midsummer of this year the "Cheyenne and Arapahoe Transportation
Company" was formed: forty wagons were sent out, with harness, by the
Government; the Indians furnished the horses; and on the 19th of July
the Indians set out in their new _rôle_ of "freighters" of their own
supplies. They went to Wichita, Kansas—one hundred and sixty-five
miles—in six days, with their ponies; loaded sixty-five thousand pounds
of supplies into the wagons, and made the return trip in two weeks, all
things being delivered in good condition.
This experiment was thoroughly tested; and its results are notable among
the many unheeded refutations of the constantly repeated assertion that
Indians will not work. The agent of the Cheyennes and the Arapahoes,
testifying before a Senate Committee in 1879, says: "We have run a wagon
train, driven by Indians, to Wichita, for three years and over, and have
never had a drunken Indian yet."
"Do they waste their money, or bring it home?"
"They almost invariably spend it for saddles or clothing, or something
of use to them that is not furnished by the Government. *** They have
never stolen an ounce of sugar, coffee, or anything else: they have been
careful not to injure or waste anything, and have delivered everything
in good faith."
The agent reports not a single case of drunkenness during the year. The
manual labor and boarding-school has one hundred and thirteen scholars
in it, "all it can accommodate." The children earned four hundred
dollars in the year by work of one sort and another, and have "expended
the money as judiciously as would white children of their ages." They
bought calico, cotton cloth, shoes, hats, several head of cattle, and
one horse. They also "bought many delicacies for their friends in camp
who were sick and in need."
"One Cheyenne woman tanned robes, traded them for twenty-five
two-year-old heifers, and gave them to her daughter in the school. ***
The boys have one hundred and twenty acres of corn under cultivation,
ten acres of potatoes, broom-corn, sugar-cane, peanuts, melons, and a
good variety of vegetables. They are entitled to one-half the crop for
cultivating it."
This is a marvellous report of the change wrought in a people in only
two years' time. It proves that the misdemeanors, the hostilities of
1874 and 1875, had been largely forced on them by circumstances.
The winter of 1877 and summer of 1878 were terrible seasons for the
Cheyennes. Their fall hunt had proved unsuccessful. Indians from other
reservations had hunted the ground over before them, and driven the
buffalo off; and the Cheyennes made their way home again in straggling
parties, destitute and hungry. Their agent reports that the result of
this hunt has clearly proved that "in the future the Indian must rely on
tilling the ground as the principal means of support; and if this
conviction can be firmly established, the greatest obstacle to
advancement in agriculture will be overcome. With the buffalo gone, and
their pony herds being constantly decimated by the inroads of
horse-thieves, they must soon adopt, in all its varieties, the way of
the white man. *** The usual amount of horse-stealing has prevailed, and
the few cases of successful pursuit have only increased the boldness of
the thieves and the number of the thefts. Until some other system of law
is introduced we cannot hope for a cessation of this grievance."
The ration allowed to these Indians is reported as being "reduced and
insufficient," and the small sums they have been able to earn by selling
buffalo-hides are said to have been "of material assistance" to them in
"supplementing" this ration. But in this year there have been sold only
$657 worth of skins by the Cheyennes and Arapahoes together. In 1876
they sold $17,600 worth. Here is a falling off enough to cause very
great suffering in a little community of five thousand people. But this
was only the beginning of their troubles. The summer proved one of
unusual heat. Extreme heat, chills and fever, and "a reduced and
insufficient ration," all combined, resulted in an amount of sickness
heart-rending to read of. "It is no exaggerated estimate," says the
agent, "to place the number of sick people on the reservation at two
thousand. Many deaths occurred which might have been obviated had there
been a proper supply of anti-malarial remedies at hand. *** Hundreds
applying for treatment have been refused medicine."
The Northern Cheyennes grew more and more restless and unhappy. "In
council and elsewhere they profess an intense desire to be sent North,
where they say they will settle down as the others have done," says the
report; adding, with an obtuseness which is inexplicable, that "no
difference has been made in the treatment of the Indians," but that the
"compliance" of these Northern Cheyennes has been "of an entirely
different nature from that of the other Indians," and that it may be
"necessary in the future to compel what so far we have been unable to
effect by kindness and appeal to their better natures."
If it is "an appeal to men's better natures" to remove them by force
from a healthful Northern climate, which they love and thrive in, to a
malarial Southern one, where they are struck down by chills and
fever—refuse them medicine which can combat chills and fever, and
finally starve them—then, indeed, might be said to have been most
forcible appeals made to the "better natures" of these Northern
Cheyennes. What might have been predicted followed.
Early in the autumn, after this terrible summer, a band of some three
hundred of these Northern Cheyennes took the desperate step of running
off and attempting to make their way back to Dakota. They were pursued,
fought desperately, but were finally overpowered, and surrendered. They
surrendered, however, only on the condition that they should be taken to
Dakota. They were unanimous in declaring that they would rather die than
go back to the Indian Territory. This was nothing more, in fact, than
saying that they would rather die by bullets than of chills and fever
and starvation.
These Indians were taken to Fort Robinson, Nebraska. Here they were
confined as prisoners of war, and held subject to the orders of the
Department of the Interior. The department was informed of the Indians'
determination never to be taken back alive to Indian Territory. The army
officers in charge reiterated these statements, and implored the
department to permit them to remain at the North; but it was of no
avail. Orders came—explicit, repeated, finally stern—insisting on the
return of these Indians to their agency. The commanding officer at Fort
Robinson has been censured severely for the course he pursued in his
effort to carry out those orders. It is difficult to see what else he
could have done, except to have resigned his post. He could not take
three hundred Indians by sheer brute force and carry them hundreds of
miles, especially when they were so desperate that they had broken up
the iron stoves in their quarters, and wrought and twisted them into
weapons with which to resist. He thought perhaps he could starve them
into submission. He stopped the issue of food; he also stopped the issue
of fuel to them. It was midwinter; the mercury froze in that month at
Fort Robinson. At the end of two days he asked the Indians to let their
women and children come out that he might feed them. Not a woman would
come out. On the night of the fourth day—or, according to some accounts,
the sixth—these starving, freezing Indians broke prison, overpowered the
guards, and fled, carrying their women and children with them. They held
the pursuing troops at bay for several days; finally made a last stand
in a deep ravine, and were shot down—men, women, and children together.
Out of the whole band there were left alive some fifty women and
children and seven men, who, having been confined in another part of the
fort, had not had the good fortune to share in this outbreak and meet
their death in the ravine. These, with their wives and children, were
sent to Fort Leavenworth, to be put in prison; the men to be tried for
murders committed in their skirmishes in Kansas on their way to the
north. Red Cloud, a Sioux chief, came to Fort Robinson immediately after
this massacre, and entreated to be allowed to take the Cheyenne widows
and orphans into his tribe to be cared for. The Government, therefore,
kindly permitted twenty-two Cheyenne widows and thirty-two Cheyenne
children—many of them orphans—to be received into the band of the
Ogallalla Sioux.
An attempt was made by the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, in his Report
for 1879, to show by tables and figures that these Indians were not
starving at the time of their flight from Indian Territory. The attempt
only redounded to his own disgrace; it being proved, by the testimony
given by a former clerk of the Indian Bureau before the Senate committee
appointed to investigate the case of the Northern Cheyennes, that the
commissioner had been guilty of absolute dishonesty in his estimates,
and that the quantity of beef actually issued to the Cheyenne Agency was
hundreds of pounds less than he had reported it, and that the Indians
were actually, as they had claimed, "starving."
The testimony given before this committee by some of the Cheyenne
prisoners themselves is heart-rending. One must have a callous heart who
can read it unmoved.
When asked by Senator Morgan, "Did you ever really suffer from hunger?"
one of the chiefs replied, "We were _always_ hungry; we _never_ had
enough. When they that were sick once in awhile felt as though they
could eat something, we had nothing to give them."
"Did you not go out on the plains sometimes and hunt buffalo, with the
consent of the agent?"
"We went out on a buffalo-hunt, and nearly starved while out; we could
not find any buffalo hardly; we could hardly get back with our ponies;
we had to kill a good many of our ponies to eat, to save ourselves from
starving."
"How many children got sick and died?"
"Between the fall of 1877 and 1878 we lost fifty children. A great many
of our finest young men died, as well as many women."
"Old Crow," a chief who served faithfully as Indian scout and ally under
General Crook for years, said: "I did not feel like doing anything for
awhile, because I had no heart. I did not want to be in this country. I
was all the time wanting to get back to the better country where I was
born, and where my children are buried, and where my mother and sister
yet live. So I have laid in my lodge most of the time with nothing to
think about but that, and the affair up north at Fort Robinson, and my
relatives and friends who were killed there. But now I feel as though,
if I had a wagon and a horse or two, and some land, I would try to work.
If I had something, so that I could do something, I might not think so
much about these other things. As it is now, I feel as though I would
just as soon be asleep with the rest."
The wife of one of the chiefs confined at Fort Leavenworth testified
before the committee as follows: "The main thing I complained of was
that we didn't get enough to eat; my children nearly starved to death;
then sickness came, and there was nothing good for them to eat; for a
long time the most they had to eat was corn-meal and salt. Three or four
children died every day for awhile, and that frightened us."
(This testimony was taken at Fort Reno, in Indian Territory.)
When asked if there were anything she would like to say to the
committee, the poor woman replied: "I wish you would do what you can to
get my husband released. I am very poor here, and do not know what is to
become of me. If he were released he would come down here, and we would
live together quietly, and do no harm to anybody, and make no trouble.
But I should never get over my desire to get back north; I should always
want to get back where my children were born, and died, and were buried.
That country is better than this in every respect. *** There is plenty
of good, cool water there—pure water—while here the water is not good.
It is not hot there, nor so sickly. Are you going where my husband is?
Can you tell when he is likely to be released?"
The Senators were obliged to reply to her that they were not going where
her husband was, and they could not tell when he would be released.
In view of the accounts of the sickness and suffering of these Indians
in 1877 and 1878, the reports made in 1879 of the industry and progress
at the Cheyenne and Arapahoe Agency are almost incredible. The school
children have, by their earnings, bought one hundred head of cattle;
451,000 pounds of freight have been transported by the Indians during
the year; they have also worked at making brick, chopping wood, making
hay, hauling wood, and splitting and hauling rails; and have earned
thereby $7,121.25. Two of the girls of the school have been promoted to
the position of assistant teachers; and the United States mail
contractor between this agency and Fort Elliott, in Texas—a distance of
one hundred and sixty-five miles—has operated almost exclusively with
full-blooded Indians: "there has been no report of breach of trust on
the part of any Indians connected with this trust, and the contractor
expresses his entire approval of their conduct."
It is stated also that there was not sufficient clothing to furnish each
Indian with a warm suit of clothing, "as promised by the treaty," and
that, "by reference to official correspondence, the fact is established
that the Cheyennes and Arapahoes are judged as having no legal rights to
any lands, having forfeited their treaty reservation by a failure to
settle thereon," and their "present reservation not having been, as yet,
confirmed by Congress. Inasmuch as the Indians fully understood, and
were assured that this reservation was given to them in lieu of their
treaty reservation, and have commenced farming in the belief that there
was no uncertainty about the matter, it is but common justice that
definite action be had at an early day, securing to them what is their
right."
It would seem that there could be found nowhere in the melancholy record
of the experiences of our Indians a more glaring instance of confused
multiplication of injustices than this. The Cheyennes were pursued and
slain for venturing to leave this very reservation, which, it appears,
is not their reservation at all, and they have no legal right to it. Are
there any words to fitly characterize such treatment as this from a
great, powerful, rich nation, to a handful of helpless people?