This Cheyenne war chief was a contemporary of Dull Knife. He was not
so strong a character as the other, and was inclined to be pompous and
boastful; but with all this he was a true type of native American in
spirit and bravery.
While Dull Knife was noted in warfare among Indians, Roman Nose made
his record against the whites, in defense of territory embracing the
Republican and Arickaree rivers. He was killed on the latter river in
1868, in the celebrated battle with General Forsythe.
Save Chief Gall and Washakie in the prime of their manhood, this chief
had no peer in bodily perfection and masterful personality. No Greek or
Roman gymnast was ever a finer model of physical beauty and power. He
thrilled his men to frenzied action when he came upon the field. It was
said of him that he sacrificed more youths by his personal influence in
battle than any other leader, being very reckless himself in grand-stand
charges. He was killed needlessly in this manner.
Roman Nose always rode an uncommonly fine, spirited horse, and with
his war bonnet and other paraphernalia gave a wonderful exhibition. The
Indians used to say that the soldiers must gaze at him rather than aim
at him, as they so seldom hit him even when running the gantlet before a
firing line.
He did a remarkable thing once when on a one-arrow-to-kill buffalo hunt
with his brother-in-law. His companion had selected his animal and
drew so powerfully on his sinew bowstring that it broke. Roman Nose
had killed his own cow and was whipping up close to the other when the
misfortune occurred. Both horses were going at full speed and the arrow
jerked up in the air. Roman Nose caught it and shot the cow for him.
Another curious story told of him is to the effect that he had an
intimate Sioux friend who was courting a Cheyenne girl, but without
success. As the wooing of both Sioux and Cheyennes was pretty much all
effected in the night time, Roman Nose told his friend to let him do
the courting for him. He arranged with the young woman to elope the next
night and to spend the honeymoon among his Sioux friends. He then told
his friend what to do. The Sioux followed instructions and carried off
the Cheyenne maid, and not until morning did she discover her mistake.
It is said she never admitted it, and that the two lived happily
together to a good old age, so perhaps there was no mistake after all.
Perhaps no other chief attacked more emigrants going west on the Oregon
Trail between 1860 and 1868. He once made an attack on a large party of
Mormons, and in this instance the Mormons had time to form a corral
with their wagons and shelter their women, children, and horses. The
men stood outside and met the Indians with well-aimed volleys, but they
circled the wagons with whirlwind speed, and whenever a white man fell,
it was the signal for Roman Nose to charge and count the “coup.” The
hat of one of the dead men was off, and although he had heavy hair and
beard, the top of his head was bald from the forehead up. As custom
required such a deed to be announced on the spot, the chief yelled at
the top of his voice:
“Your Roman Nose has counted the first coup on the longest-faced white
man who was ever killed!”
When the Northern Cheyennes under this daring leader attacked a body of
scouting troops under the brilliant officer General Forsythe, Roman Nose
thought that he had a comparatively easy task. The first onset failed,
and the command entrenched itself on a little island. The wily chief
thought he could stampede them and urged on his braves with the
declaration that the first to reach the island should be entitled to
wear a trailing war bonnet. Nevertheless he was disappointed, and his
men received such a warm reception that none succeeded in reaching it.
In order to inspire them to desperate deeds he had led them in person,
and with him that meant victory or death. According to the army
accounts, it was a thrilling moment, and might well have proved
disastrous to the Forsythe command, whose leader was wounded and
helpless. The danger was acute until Roman Nose fell, and even then his
lieutenants were bent upon crossing at any cost, but some of the older
chiefs prevailed upon them to withdraw.
Thus the brilliant war chief of the Cheyennes came to his death. If he
had lived until 1876, Sitting Bull would have had another bold ally.