Mochi's War

by Enss, Chris

  For more than a century no signs marked the location of the U.S. Calvary massacre that took place on November 29, 1864, but legislation passed in November 2000 made the area 160 miles southeast of Denver a national historic site.

  Efforts to make the location a national site began in late 1990 when a project team was organized to study the area. On the banks of Sand Creek in Kiowa County, Colorado, an archeological team that included tribal members, National Park Service staff, historians, volunteers, and local landowners found evidence of the Indian village that was attacked by the U.S. Army. The team swept the area with metal detectors and found evidence of the horrific struggle. Among the shattered plates, utensils, hide scrapers, awls, and trade items that were once part of the daily lives of almost five hundred Indian people, the survey team also found fragments of the weapons used to attack and kill them.

  According to the report prepared by the National Park Service in cooperation with the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma, the Northern Cheyenne Tribe, the Northern Arapaho Tribe, and the state of Colorado, a multi-disciplinary approach was used in finding the massacre site:

  As part of the site location effort, Cheyenne and Arapaho descendants of the Sand Creek Massacre told stories that had been handed down to them through the generations, including traditional tribal knowledge about the location of the site. Historians researched maps, diaries, reminiscences, and congressional and military investigative reports for information that might shed light on where the Sand Creek Massacre occurred. The National Park Service also held public open houses, encouraging local residents to come forward with information, including possible evidence of the massacre that had been found on their land. Historic aerial photographs, the earliest dating to the 1930s, were examined for evidence of historic trails that led to and from the massacre site. The site location effort also included a geomorphological assessment of Sand Creek that identified, through an analysis of soil samples, those specific landforms where 1864-era artifacts could potentially be recovered.

  Although most accounts of the Sand Creek Massacre placed it at the “Big South Bend” of Sand Creek, its exact location was obscured through time. Following the massacre, the Indian survivors could not even return to the site—which bordered on the Cheyenne and Arapaho reservation—to bury their dead. Located in what is still one of the most rural areas of Colorado, the massacre site was left untended. By the turn of the century, there was little evidence of the terrible event. In 1908, Army veterans who participated in the massacre planned a reunion at the site. However, upon reaching the banks of the Sand Creek, even they could not agree as to its location.

  On Saturday, April 28, 2007, after more than eight years of research and study, a thousand people, including victims’ descendants, gathered on the rolling plains in Kiowa County for the official dedication of the Sand Creek Massacre National Historic Site. A mock village of seventeen teepees was set up in a stand of cottonwood trees along the creek, where historians believe the slaughter took place. According to the April 29, 2007, news story by the Associated Press, “Cheyenne and Arapaho tribes who attended the ceremony chanted and played drums. Tribal members who were Army veterans wore their camouflage uniforms as well as headdresses when they carried in the U.S. and tribal flags.”

  Although it took more than a century to build a memorial, the attack was recognized almost immediately as criminal. Congress condemned it, and President Lincoln fired territorial Governor John Evans.

  Witnesses told a congressional hearing that the victims had not been hostile. Indian trader John S. Smith testified that Chivington knew the band at Sand Creek was peaceful and was not involved in the attacks on settlers.

  But after the raid Chivington was feted as a hero by Denver residents who were terrified that the Confederacy would use the Indians as surrogates to wage war on them.

  A Civil War memorial installed at the Colorado capital in 1909 listed Sand Creek as a great Union victory. But a plaque was added in 2002 giving details of the massacre to set the record straight.

  The inclusion of the site within the national park system provides an important reminder of a key event in western American history.

  For more information about the Sand Creek Massacre National Site visit www.nps.gov.

  Epilogue

  Colonel John Chivington died of stomach cancer on October 4, 1894, at the age of seventy. His life after his speech at the twenty-fifth anniversary of the settlement of Colorado until he passed away was busy. Chivington moved to Denver in 1893, continuing to write for the Methodist newspaper The Christian Advocate. He also served as a coroner and deputy sheriff.[1]

  Chivington was involved in several lawsuits over land given to him by the United States government that was located in El Paso County, Colorado. The land encompassed the boiling soda springs later known as Manitou Springs. During Chivington’s sixteen-year absence from the territory his land had been sold to entrepreneurs who wanted to bottle the water from the springs. Chivington had given his son-in-law, Thomas Pollack, power of attorney of the property in February 1867. His son-in-law sold the coveted land six months later for $500.[2]

  Although Chivington mounted an aggressive fight to recover the property he claimed ultimately belonged to him, the Supreme Court of Colorado struck down his case. The court argued that he had not paid taxes on the land or exercised any rights of ownership for sixteen years and, as such, “the legal property owners were the individuals who did maintain fiscal responsibility.”[3]

  On July 21, 1891, Chivington applied for a “disabled pension” from the government. He claimed that injuries he had suffered while serving in the army in 1864 had left him unable to make a living. Chivington died before his application was approved.[4]

  Colonel Chivington’s well-attended funeral was held on October 7, 1894, at the Trinity Methodist-Episcopal Church. News of his demise and the funeral service was published in newspapers as far away as London. “He was a noted character in Colorado history,” an article in the November 9, 1894, edition of the American Register reported. “He was born in Ohio in 1821 and went to Missouri in early life as a minister of the Methodist Church. As such he went to Colorado in 1862, also entering the Volunteers, in which he was made colonel. In the winter of 1863 he led the Colorado troops in the famous Sand Creek Massacre. The people of Colorado congratulated Colonel Chivington for his work, but the government did not approve of what it termed an ‘Indian massacre.’”[5]

  The controversial parson was laid to rest at the Fairmount Cemetery in Denver.

  The four young girls who survived being captured by Cheyenne Indians in the fall of 1874 left Fort Sill, Oklahoma, in the summer of 1875 to live in Leavenworth, Kansas. Congress made provisions for the care of Catherine, Sophia, Julia, and Adelaide by appropriating $2,500 for each one of them. According to Catherine German’s memoirs, the interest derived from the sum of money was to be used for “maintenance and education.” The money for the orphans was taken from the United States government appropriations for the Cheyenne Indians.[6]

  The girls were cared for by two guardians, one of whom was General Nelson Miles. He made sure all four attended school and graduated. On October 1, 1875, an article in the Lawrence Republican Daily let concerned citizens know how the girls were doing. “The German sisters are very happy in their new home with Mrs. Wilson near Lawrence,” the report read. “It is a quiet, pleasant place to live. They attend school near at hand, and are enjoying peace and comfort after their terrible suffering among the wild Cheyenne.”[7]

  After high school Julia attended the Teacher’s Institute and received a certificate to teach. Adelaide continued her education at State University in Lawrence, Kansas. All the German sisters married and each had children. Adelaide settled in Missouri, Sophia in Nebraska, and Julia and Catherine made California their home. They were all in their early seventies when they passed away, and all of them died from natural causes. Adelaide was the last sister to die. The March 7, 1943, edition of the Pampa N
ews reported that she passed away at her home in Kansas City, Missouri, in January 1943 at the age of seventy-four. The article included information about a journey the four sisters took together in 1928 to the location where they were rescued in 1875.[8]

  General Nelson Miles was the guardian of the German sisters for more than a year. He resigned his position when the military ordered him into the Northwest Country to end the war between the hostile Sioux, Nez Perce, and Bannock Indians, and the United States. The celebrated army chief died on May 15, 1925, in Washington, D.C., while attending a circus performance. “When I learned of his death,” Catherine German wrote in her memoirs, “I grieved as though he were a near and dear relative.”[9]

  According to the May 16, 1925, edition of the Daily News, “Miles was a brave commander who passed through numerous engagements during the Civil War unscathed.” Although only twenty-four years old when the Civil War ended, Miles had become famous in army circles, and Generals Grant, Meade, Hooker, and Hancock, and every other field officer under whom he served, urged he be promoted. He was honored with the Congressional Medal.[10]

  General Miles’s Indian service began in 1870. He then embarked on campaigns that were to bring to a close the Indian Wars which lasted throughout the country. In 1894, Miles was called to subdue the historic Chicago railroad strike. President Cleveland rewarded the general’s distinguished services by appointing him commanding general of the United States Army.

  General Miles was eighty-six when he died.

  Civil War veteran R. H. Pratt was in charge of the education of Indian prisoners at Fort Marion from 1875 to 1878. He and a small staff of teachers taught the inmates how to read and write English. In 1879 Pratt moved to Pennsylvania, where he founded the Carlisle Indian Industrial School. By combining academics with vocational training in a variety of fields, Pratt was able to place students in non-Native American homes and colleges. The school grew steadily, and in his twenty-five years as superintendent he had charge of more than five thousand children of more than seventy tribes.[11]

  Often called “the Red Man’s Moses,” Pratt is attributed with leading the Indian out of the desert of reservation bondage into the promised land of citizenship and opportunity. He died while visiting friends in San Francisco on March 15, 1924. He was laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery along with his wife, Anna.[12]

  The Fort Marion prison was officially closed in 1900. Notorious Apache Indian leader Geronimo was one of the last to be held there. In October 1966 the prison was added to the National Register of Historic Places and renamed Castillo de San Marco.[13]

  The spot where more than 150 Southern Cheyenne and Arapaho were slaughtered along Big Sandy, southeast of Denver, Colorado, became a national historic site in September 2001. A plaque at the location reminds visitors of the event that happened there in November 1864. The Sand Creek Massacre remains one of the most tragic incidents of the Indian Wars.[14]

  1. Patrick M. Mendoza, Ann Strange-Owl-Raben, and Nico Strange-Owl, Four Great Rivers to Cross: Cheyenne History, Culture and Traditions, 36–37; John Speer, “Report to Fred Martin of Interview with Mrs. John M. Chivington”; Reginald S. Craig, The Fighting Parson: Biography of Colonel John M. Chivington, 236–37.

  2. Speer, “Report to Fred Martin”; Craig, Fighting Parson, 236–37.

  3. Ibid.

  4. Ibid.

  5. American Register, November 3, 1894.

  6. Patrick M. Mendoza, Song of Sorrow: Sand Creek Massacre, 163; Sante Fe Reporter, December 14–20, 1988; Grace E. Meredith, Girl Captives of the Cheyennes: A True Story of the Capture and Rescue of Four Pioneer Girls, 1874, 104–12.

  7. Meredith, Girl Captives of the Cheyennes, 104-12; Lawrence Republican Daily, October 1, 1875.

  8. Pampa News, March 7, 1943; Meredith, Girl Captives of the Cheyennes, 104–12.

  9. Meredith, Girl Captives of the Cheyennes, 112–13; Lima Sunday News, August 8, 1926.

  10. Daily News, May 16, 1925.

  11. Salt Lake Tribune, March 22, 1936; Richard Henry Pratt, www.arlingtoncemetery.net.

  12. Ibid.

  13. Brad D. Lookingbill, War Dance at Fort Marion: Plains Indian War Prisoners, 201–2.

  14. Colorado Springs Gazette, May 28, 1999; Farmington Daily Times; February 21, 1999.

  Remembering Sand Creek

  The history of the men and women that blazed the trails to and settled the untamed West was documented by hundreds of thousands of individuals who experienced the adventure. Homesteaders and their families, trappers and explorers, soldiers and their wives, school teachers and their students were just a few who recorded their journeys. Written accounts of notable events, from the discovery of gold in California and Colorado to the building of the transcontinental railroad, have been preserved in libraries and universities. Archive departments in cities and towns across the United States contain mountains of records of the comings and goings of those who made their way into a wild wilderness and did whatever they could to tame it.

  Unlike the early Americans who chronicled everything that occurred, the Indians shared accounts of their history orally. Some of the Indians’ history has been written down, but in large part the experience of being an Indian is based in recollection; it is in the stories retained and traditions remembered and passed along from generation to generation. Indian tribes across the United States depend on their oral history to sustain their culture. Sharing the experiences of the leaders and members of the Indian tribes who came before, and describing their triumphs and struggles, preserves the rich heritage of the Indian Nations.

  In the early 1990s, Alan McEachern, chief justice of the British Columbia Supreme Court, ruled on many cases involving various claims Indian tribes had on land from Toronto to Quebec and noted in judgment briefs the issue he had with the Indian’s oral history. The March 12, 1991, edition of the Medicine Hat News reported that the chief justice wrote: “Indians have a romantic view of their history . . . it’s without literal or legal value.”[1] Among those who have sought to change that perception are Cheyenne Indian historian John Stands in Timber and anthropologist Margo Liberty.[2] The pair collaborated on books that record the legendary times of the Cheyenne. Their work and that of American history professors, students from the National American Indian Data Center, and countless others in the field of Indian studies show that the Indians’ oral history has great merit.

  Research projects, like the one launched by the National Park Service and tribal representatives for the Cheyenne and Arapaho Indians in the year 2000 about the Sand Creek Massacre, demonstrate that the Indians’ oral history is anything but romantic. Recollections of the survivors of the massacre that occurred in the winter of 1864 have been shared with members of the tribes for over a century.[3] The following are a few of those tattered and tragic memories.

  * * *

  When the people were running there was hardly any place to hide, but there were ravines and there was one old lady who was getting children. She was getting children but she had medicine so they couldn’t see her and she would go back and forth getting children. There were more women holding the children down. Where it happened had to have shelter and some ravines. Land changes over the years through men tilling, farmers, and the wind, rain—it changes subtly. Those ravines might be buried now. To find anything you’d probably have to dig. But at the time there were hiding places, ravines. They were camped close to water for cooking and things.

  Lettie June Shakespeare

  That old man, when he had his camp—Chief White Antelope—he had his camp and then this cavalry, they came and they seen those horses and flags. They didn’t think much. My grandpa he took that white flag and when they got close to him they killed them all even though they had the flag. One woman got away with her grandson. She was the only one that lived through the massacre.

  Josephine White

  Original map drawn by Cheyenne warrior George Bent, which shows the location of the Indian's tents when Colonel Chivington and
the United States Volunteers attacked the tribes at the Sand Creek Massacre.

  Research Division of the Oklahoma Historical Society

  Some old men, some chiefs, wanted to make peace with the U.S. government. They had a meeting, they really trusted white men. Once they become a chief, they must be honest and sincere and love their people and help them in good ways. Once they become chief they can’t argue with anyone. If someone hurts them they’ve got to take their pipe and smoke. That’s all they could do. So, these two old men, Black Kettle and another one . . . Sitting Bear . . . they went a few days before to soldier camp to make peace and when they came back to the village somebody told them the soldier would come back to attack them. And they said, “No they won’t, we were there to make peace with the soldiers (blue coats).” They didn’t take their words of warning, once you make peace with somebody they take it seriously. “You should move,” [the chiefs were told. The chiefs said,] “No, they won’t hurt us.” But the next day they came, the blue coats, shooting at them. When they started shooting, Black Kettle and White Antelope got the flag, I guess they had gotten it from the soldiers. Somebody told them to wave it so the soldiers wouldn’t attack. So they did, they raised the flag. But the blue coats destroyed it and then started shooting at them. They scattered out, the women and children, and tried to hide in the banks. One woman was pregnant and started to run and jumped into the bank and the baby was born. Another woman jumped in and got that baby to take care of it. My husband’s relatives—his grandma’s son—came running and jumped into the bank. His religion was Clowns, or Backwards, it was religion, not in a funny way. He came and jumped in and the woman, the nurse said, “No, you’ve come to the wrong place.” He saw that a baby was born and he jumped out because he’s backwards, that means he was happy seeing the baby. He started to run off but the soldiers shot him down. Next was my husband’s grandma . . . she got shot down at the tepee and they cut her up everywhere. She was still breathing and alive.