by Dee Brown
Sitting Bull let several of his followers speak, including a Santee and a Yankton who had joined his band. Their statements reinforced his previous remarks.
After the meeting ended, One Star Terry knew that it was useless to make any further pleas to Sitting Bull. His last hope was Commissioner MacLeod, who agreed to explain the Canadian government’s position toward the Hunkpapas. MacLeod informed Sitting Bull that he was an American Indian who had taken refuge in Canada. This meant that Sitting Bull and his people could receive no food or supplies—nothing—from the Canadian government. But nothing MacLeod said changed Sitting Bull’s decision. He would remain.
Next morning, One Star Terry started back to the United States.
Sitting Bull and his fellow exiles stayed in Canada four years. Had the Canadian government been more cooperative, they probably would have lived out their lives on the plains of Saskatchewan. But the Canadians viewed Sitting Bull as a potential troublemaker as well as an expensive guest because additional mounted police had to be assigned to watch him. As the seasons passed, a few hungry and ragged families drifted south across the border to surrender at the Sioux agencies in the Dakota Territory.
Sitting Bull begged the Canadians to give his people a reservation where they could support themselves, but he was repeatedly told that he was not a British subject and therefore was not entitled to a land reserve. During the bad winter of 1880, many Sioux horses froze to death. When spring came, more of the exiles began trekking southward on foot. Several of Sitting Bull’s most loyal lieutenants, including Gall and Crow King, gave up and headed for the Great Sioux Reservation.
At last, on July 19, 1881, Sitting Bull and 186 of his remaining followers crossed the border and rode into Fort Buford. He looked old and beaten when he surrendered his Winchester rifle to the commanding officer. Instead of sending him to the Hunkpapa agency at Standing Rock, the army broke its promise to give him a pardon and held him at Fort Randall as a military prisoner.
During the late summer of 1881, the return of Sitting Bull was overshadowed by the assassination of Spotted Tail. The murderer was not a white man, but was one of Spotted Tail’s own people, Crow Dog. Many Sioux believed it was part of the white man’s plot to break the power of the remaining strong chiefs. Agency officials denied this, but suspicions remained.
After the furor over Spotted Tail’s death ended, Sioux everywhere on the Great Reservation turned their attention toward Sitting Bull’s presence at Fort Randall. Many chiefs and subchiefs came to visit him, wish him well, and do him honor. Newspapermen came to interview him. Instead of being beaten and forgotten as he had thought, Sitting Bull was famous. In 1882 representatives from the different Sioux agencies came to ask his advice concerning a new government proposal to break up the Great Reservation into smaller areas and sell about half the land for white settlement. Sitting Bull advised them not to sell.
Crow Dog in 1900. [LOC, USZ62-102187]
Despite their resistance, in 1882 the Sioux came very near to losing 14,000 square miles of territory to a new commission headed by Newton Edmunds, who was an expert at negotiating lands away from Indians. His colleagues were Peter Shannon, a frontier lawyer, and James Teller, a brother of the new secretary of the interior. Accompanying them was a “special interpreter,” none other than Reverend Samuel D. Hinman, who had been a missionary to the Sioux since the days of Little Crow.
As the commission traveled from one agency to another, Hinman told the chiefs that he was there to lay out different parts of the reservation for the six agencies. This was necessary, he said, so that the different Sioux tribes could claim the areas as their own and have them as long as they lived. “After we have laid out the reservations,” Hinman told Red Cloud, “the Great Father will give you 25,000 cows and 1,000 bulls.” To obtain the livestock, however, the Sioux had to sign some papers. As none of the Sioux chiefs could read, they did not know that they were signing away 14,000 square miles of land in exchange for the promised cows and bulls.
At agencies where the Sioux were reluctant to sign anything, Hinman alternately wheedled and bullied them. In order to obtain an abundance of signatures, he persuaded boys as young as seven years old to sign.
Early in 1883, Edmunds and Hinman journeyed to Washington with their bundle of signatures. They succeeded in getting Congress to create a legislative bill that when approved and signed into law would let Edmunds and Hinman take almost half the lands set aside for the Sioux in the 1868 treaty. But the Sioux had, for the moment, some friends in Washington, who questioned the bill. They pointed out that even if all the signatures were legal, Edmunds and Hinman still had not obtained the names of the required three-fourths of all adult male Sioux. Another commission, headed by Senator Henry L. Dawes, was sent to the Dakota Territory to investigate.
During the inquiry, Dawes asked Red Cloud if he believed Reverend Hinman was an honest man. “Mr. Hinman fools you big men,” Red Cloud replied.
Senator Henry Dawes was the sponsor of the General Allotment Act of 1887, commonly called the Dawes Act, which proved to be one of the most disastrous pieces of legislation affecting Native Americans. (See Epilogue) [LOC, DIG-cwpbh-03931]
Red Dog, an Oglala chief who had signed the paper, testified that Hinman had talked about giving them cows and bulls, but had said nothing about the Sioux giving up any land in exchange for them. Little Wound, another Oglala chief who had signed, said, “Mr. Hinman told us that the way the reservation was now no Indian could tell his own ground, and the Great Father and his council thought it best to lay out different reservations and that is the reason we signed the paper.”
“Did he say anything about the Great Father having what was left?” asked Senator Dawes.
“No, sir. He did not say anything about that.”
Shortly before the Dawes commission came to Dakota, Sitting Bull was released from imprisonment at Fort Randall and transferred to the Hunkpapa agency at Standing Rock. On August 22, 1883, when the commissioners arrived there to hear testimony, he came up to the agency headquarters from his assigned camp on the Grand River to attend the council. The commissioners ignored the presence of the most famous living Sioux chief. Instead they invited testimony from others.
At last, Senator Dawes turned to the interpreter and said, “Ask Sitting Bull if he has anything to say to the committee.”
“Of course I will speak to you if you desire me to do so,” Sitting Bull responded. “I suppose it is only such men as you desire to speak who must say anything.”
“We supposed the Indians would select men to speak for them,” Dawes said, “but any man who desires to speak, or any man the Indians here desire shall talk for them, we will be glad to hear if he has anything to say.”
“Do you know who I am, that you speak as you do?”
“I know that you are Sitting Bull, and if you have anything to say, we will be glad to hear you.”
“Do you recognize me—do you know who I am?”
“I know you are Sitting Bull.”
“You say you know I am Sitting Bull, but do you know what position I hold?”
“I do not know any difference between you and the other Indians at this agency.”
“I am here by the will of the Great Spirit, and by his will I am a chief. My heart is red and sweet, and I know it is sweet, because whatever passes near me puts out its tongue to me, and yet you men have come here to talk with us, and you say you do not know who I am. I want to tell you that if the Great Spirit has chosen anyone to be the chief of this country, it is myself.”
“In whatever capacity you may be here today, if you desire to say anything to us, we will listen to you; otherwise we will dismiss this council.”
“Yes, that is all right,” Sitting Bull said. “You have conducted yourselves like men who have been drinking whiskey, and I came here to give you some advice.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand, and every Indian in the council room arose and followed him out.
Nothing could have dismay
ed the commissioners more than the thought of the Sioux rallying around a strong leader like Sitting Bull. The government’s policy was aimed at eliminating everything Indian among the tribes and making them over into white men. In less than two minutes, they had let Sitting Bull demonstrate his power to block that policy.
Later that day, the other Hunkpapa leaders talked with Sitting Bull. They assured him of their loyalty but told him he should not have offended the commissioners. These men were not like the land thieves who had visited the previous year. These representatives had come to help them keep their land, not to take it away.
Sitting Bull was not so sure about the trustworthiness of any white men, but he said that if he had made a mistake, he was willing to apologize for it. He sent word to the commissioners that he would like another council. He began,
I am here to apologize to you for my bad conduct, and to take back what I said. I will take it back because I consider I have made your hearts bad…. What I take back is what I said to cause the people to leave the council, and want to apologize for leaving myself….Now I will tell you my mind, and I will tell everything straight. I know the Great Spirit is looking down upon me from above and will hear what I say, therefore I will do my best to talk straight; and I am in hopes that someone will listen to my wishes and help me to carry them out.
He then reviewed the history of the Sioux during his lifetime, listing the government’s broken promises, but said that he had promised to travel the white man’s path and would keep his promises.
Sitting Bull went on to describe the condition of the Indians. They had none of the things that white men had. If they were to become like white men, they must have tools, livestock, and wagons, “because that is the way white people make a living.”
Instead of accepting Sitting Bull’s apology and listening to what he had to say, the commissioners launched an attack. Senator John Logan scolded him for breaking up the previous council and then for accusing the committee members of being drunk. He continued,
I want to say further that you are not a great chief of this country, that you have no following, no power, no control, and no right to any control. You are on an Indian reservation merely at the sufferance of the government. You are fed by the government, clothed by the government, your children are educated by the government, and all you have and are today is because of the government. If it were not for the government you would be freezing and starving today in the mountains. I merely say these things to you to notify you that you cannot insult the people of the United States of America or its committees…. The government feeds and clothes and educates your children now, and desires to teach you to become farmers, and to civilize you, and make you as white men.
To speed the process of making the Sioux as white men, the Office of Indian Affairs assigned a man named James McLaughlin to head the agency at Standing Rock. McLaughlin, or White Hair, as the Indians called him, was a veteran of the Indian Service. He was married to a half-breed Santee woman, and his superiors were confident that he could efficiently destroy the culture of the Sioux and replace it with the white man’s civilization. After the departure of the Dawes commission, White Hair McLaughlin attempted to diminish Sitting Bull’s influence by dealing with more cooperative Indians such as Chief Gall of the Hunkpapas and Chief John Grass of the Blackfoot Sioux.
An 1888 Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper woodcut portrait of Major James McLaughlin. [LOC, USZ62-128094]
White Hair’s maneuvers had no effect on Sitting Bull’s popularity. All visitors, Indian or white, wanted to meet him. In the summer of 1883, when the Northern Pacific Railroad celebrated the completion of its transcontinental track, one of the officials in charge of ceremonies decided it would be fitting for an Indian chief to be present to make a speech of welcome to the Great Father and other notables. Sitting Bull was the choice—no other Indian was even considered. A young army officer who understood the Sioux language was assigned to work with the chief to prepare a speech. It would be delivered in Sioux and then translated by the officer.
On September 8, Sitting Bull and the young Bluecoat arrived at Bismarck for the big celebration. They rode at the head of a parade and then sat on the speakers’ platform. When Sitting Bull was introduced, he arose and began delivering his speech in Sioux. The young officer listened in dismay. Sitting Bull had changed the flowery text of welcome. “I hate all the white people,” he was saying. “You are thieves and liars. You have taken away our land and made us outcasts.”
Knowing that only the army officer could understand what he was saying, Sitting Bull paused occasionally for applause. He bowed, smiled, and then uttered a few more insults. At last he sat down, and the bewildered interpreter took his place. The officer had only a short translation written out, a few friendly phrases, but by adding several well-worn Indian metaphors, he brought the audience to its feet with a standing ovation for Sitting Bull. The Hunkpapa chief was so popular that the railroad officials took him to St. Paul, Minnesota, for another ceremony.
Sitting Bull’s fame brought him many visitors. Here he and his family pose with a white woman, probably the wife of an officer or government official, and her child (second from left). Behind them is a cavalry officer on horseback. [LOC, USZ62-62749]
During the following summer, the secretary of the interior authorized a tour of 15 American cities for Sitting Bull, and his appearances created such a sensation that William F. Cody—the famous Buffalo Bill—decided he must add the famous chief to his Wild West Show. The Indian Bureau offered some resistance to the proposal at first, but White Hair McLaughlin was enthusiastic. At Standing Rock, Sitting Bull was a constant symbol of Indian resistance. White Hair would have liked to see him go on tour forever.
In this 1897 publicity photograph for his Wild West show, William F. “Buffalo Bill” Cody poses with Sitting Bull. Cody got his nickname from his years as a U.S. Army scout and buffalo hunter in the late 1860s and early 1870s. [LOC, USZ62-21207]
In the summer of 1885, Sitting Bull joined Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, traveling throughout the United States and into Canada. He drew tremendous crowds.
After the season ended, he returned to Standing Rock with two farewell presents from Buffalo Bill—a huge white sombrero and a performing horse. The horse had been trained to sit down and raise one hoof at the crack of a gunshot.
In 1887, Buffalo Bill invited Sitting Bull to accompany his show on a tour of Europe, but the chief declined. “I am needed here,” he said. “There is more talk of taking our lands.”
The land-grab attempt did not come until the following year, when a commission arrived from Washington with a proposal to carve the Great Sioux Reservation into six smaller reservations, leaving nine million acres open for settlement. The commissioners offered the Indians 50 cents an acre for this land. Sitting Bull immediately went to work to convince Gall and John Grass that the Sioux should not stand for such a swindle. For about a month, the commissioners tried to persuade the Standing Rock Indians that Sitting Bull was misleading them, that the sale was for their benefit, and that if they failed to sign they might lose the land anyway. Only 22 Sioux signed at Standing Rock.
After failing to obtain the required three-fourths of signatures at the Crow Creek and Lower Brulé agencies, the commissioners gave up. They returned to Washington and recommended that the government ignore the treaty of 1868 and take the land.
In 1888 the United States government was not quite ready to tear up a treaty, but the following year Congress took the first step toward doing essentially that. The politicians decided to force the Indians to sell a large portion of their reservation out of fear that it would be taken away from them if they refused. Should this scheme work, the government would not have to break the treaty.
General George Crook was the chairman of this new commission. He was authorized to offer the Indians $1.50 per acre. With two politicians, Charles Foster of Ohio and William Warner of Missouri, Crook journeyed to the Great Sioux Reserv
ation in May 1889. He was determined to obtain the required number of adult male signatures. He deliberately chose the Rosebud agency for his first council. Since the assassination of Spotted Tail, the Brulés were split into factions, and Crook believed they were unlikely to offer a united front against signing their land away.
He reckoned without a chief named Hollow Horn Bear, who insisted that the commissioners call all the chiefs of the six agencies together for one council instead of traveling from one to another. “You want to make everything safe here,” Hollow Horn Bear said accusingly, “and then go on to the other agencies and tell them we have signed.”
Crook replied that the Great Father had ordered the commissioners to consult with the Indians at the different agencies “because it is spring now, and if you all come together at one place, your crops will all suffer.”
After nine days of discussion, a majority of the Brulés followed Crook’s advice and signed. The first signature on the agreement was that of Crow Dog, the assassin of Spotted Tail.
At Pine Ridge in June, the commissioners had to deal with Red Cloud, who demonstrated his remaining power by surrounding the council with several hundred of his mounted warriors. Even Red Cloud and his loyal lieutenants stood firm, the commissioners managed to secure about half of the Oglalas’ signatures. To make up the difference, they moved on to the smaller agencies, obtaining signatures at Lower Brulé, Crow Creek, and Cheyenne River. On July 27, they arrived at Standing Rock. Here the decision would be made. If a majority of the Hunkpapas and Blackfoot Sioux refused to sign, the agreement would fail.
Edward S. Curtis photographed Chief Hollow Horn Bear in 1907. Hollow Horn Bear participated in the Fetterman Massacre. [LOC, USZ62-53674]
