Part 21

To return to Stinson and Lyons. After the demonstration of joy at Forbes’s escape had subsided, the people remembered that there was an execution on the _tapis_. Drawing up a wagon in front of the building where the criminals were confined, they ordered them to get in. They obeyed, followed by several of their friends, who took seats beside them. Lyons became almost uproarious in his appeals for mercy. The women, of whom there were many, began to cry, begging earnestly for the lives of the criminals. Smith, their lawyer, joined his petitions to those of the women, and the entire crowd began to give way under this pressure of sympathy. Meantime the wagon was drawn slowly towards the place of execution. When the excitement was at its highest pitch, a man demanded in a loud tone that the people should listen to a letter which Lyons had written to his mother. This document, which had been prepared by some person for the occasion, was now read. It was filled with expressions of love for the aged mother, regret for the crime, repentance, acknowledgments of misspent life, and strong promises of amendment, if only life could be spared a little longer. Every sentence elicited fresh grief from the women, who now became perfectly clamorous in their calls for mercy to the prisoners. After the letter was read, some one cried out, in derision,

“Give him a horse, and let him go to his mother.”

Another immediately moved that they take a vote upon that proposition. Sheriff Todd, whose duty it was only to carry out the sentence of the court, consented to this, and the question was submitted to ayes and noes. Both parties claimed the victory. It was then agreed that those in favor of hanging should go up, and those opposed, down the side of a neighboring hill. Neither party being satisfied, as a final test, four men were selected, and those who wished the sentence enforced were to pass between two of them, and those who opposed, between the other two. The votes for liberty were increased to meet the occasion, by a second passage of as many as were necessary to carry the question. An Irish miner, while the voting was in progress, exclaimed in a loud voice, as a negro passed through the acquittal bureau,

“Bedad, there’s a bloody nagur that’s voted three times.”

But this vote, dishonest as it was, settled the question; for Jack Gallagher, pistol in hand, shouted,

“Let them go. They’re cleared.”

This was a signal for a general uproar, and amid shouts from both parties, expressive of the opinions which each entertained, some one mounted the assassins upon a horse standing near, which belonged to a Blackfoot squaw, and cutting the lariat, started them off at a gallop down the gulch. At this moment one of the guard pointed to the gallows, and said to another,

“There stands a monument of disappointed justice.”

Immediately after sentence of death had been passed upon Stinson and Lyons, Dr. Steele returned to his cabin, two miles down the gulch. The result of the trial had furnished him with food for sad reflection,--especially as the duty of passing death sentence had devolved upon him. Other considerations followed in quick succession. He has since, when speaking of it, said that he never indulged in a more melancholy reverie, than while returning home from this trial. The youth of the convicts; their evident fitness, both by culture and manners, for any sphere of active business; the effect that their execution must have upon distant parents and friends,--all these thoughts presented themselves in sad array before his mental vision; when, as he was about entering his cabin, a quick clatter of hoofs roused him and turning to see the cause, he beheld the subjects of his gloomy reflections both mounted upon the Indian pony, approaching at the animal’s swiftest pace. He had hardly time to recover from his surprise, and realize that the object was not a vision, until the animal with its double rider passed him,--and Lyons, nodding familiarly, waved his hand, accompanying the gesture with the parting words,

“Good-bye, Doc.”

The body of the unfortunate Dillingham lay neglected upon a gambling table in a tent near by, until this wretched travesty was completed. Then a wagon was obtained, and, followed by a small procession, it was hurriedly buried. The tears had all been shed for the murderers.

“I cried for Dillingham,” said one, on being told that his wife and daughters had expended their grief upon the wrong persons.

“Oh, you did,” was the reply. “Well thought of. Who will pray for him? Will you do it, judge?”

Judge Bissell responded by kneeling upon the spot and offering up an appropriate prayer, as the body of the unfortunate young man was consigned to its mother-earth.

Soon after the murder of Dillingham, Charley Forbes suddenly disappeared. No one knew what became of him, but it was supposed that he had fallen a victim to the vengeance of his comrades for the course he had taken in securing for himself a separate trial. This supposition was afterwards confirmed by some of the robbers themselves, who stated that in a quarrel with Moore at the Big Hole River, Forbes was killed. Fearing that the friends of the murdered ruffian would retaliate, Moore killed Forbes’s horse at the same time, and burned to ashes the bodies of horse and rider. This fact was known to Plummer only, at the time of its occurrence.

Dillingham was a straightforward, honest young man, and his office as deputy sheriff was given him under the supposition that he would readily affiliate with the roughs. Lyons, Stinson, and Forbes, who were also deputies, supposed him to be as bad as they were.

On my trip east in 1863, the Overland coach in which I had taken passage was detained a night by snow at Hook’s Station in Nebraska. Ascertaining that I was from Bannack, a young man at the station asked me many questions about Hayes Lyons, telling me that he had heard that he narrowly escaped hanging the previous summer. I narrated to him the circumstances attending the murder of Dillingham and the trial.

“He is my brother,” said the young man, and invited me to go with him and see his mother and sister. I learned that Hayes had been well brought up, but was the victim of evil associations. His mother wept while deploring his criminal career, which she ascribed to bad company.

CHEYENNES AND SIOUX

GENERAL GEORGE A. CUSTER

1867

From “My Life on the Plains.” Reprinted by permission of the publishers, J. D. Sheldon Company, New York.[22]

Of the many important expeditions organized to operate in the Indian country, none, perhaps, of late years has excited more general and unfriendly comment, considering the slight loss of life inflicted upon the Indians, than the expedition organized and led in person by Major-General Hancock in the spring of 1867. The clique generally known as the “Indian ring” were particularly malevolent and bitter in their denunciations of General Hancock for precipitating, as they expressed it, an Indian war. This expedition was quite formidable in appearance, being made up of eight troops of cavalry, seven companies of infantry, and one battery of light artillery, numbering altogether about 1,400 men.

It may be asked, What had the Indians done to make this incursion necessary? They had been guilty of numerous thefts and murders during the preceding summer and fall, for none of which had they been called to account. They had attacked the stations of the overland mail route, killed the employees, burned the station, and captured the stock. Citizens had been murdered in their homes on the frontier of Kansas; murders had been committed on the Arkansas route. The principal perpetrators of these acts were the Cheyennes and Sioux. The agent of the former, if not a party to the murder on the Arkansas, knew who the guilty persons were, yet took no steps to bring the murderers to punishment. Such a course would have interfered with his trade and profits. It was not to punish for these sins of the past that the expedition was set on foot, but rather by its imposing appearance and its early presence in the Indian country to check or intimidate the Indians from a repetition of their late conduct. This was deemed particularly necessary from the fact that the various tribes from which we had greatest cause to anticipate trouble had during the winter, through their leading chiefs and warriors, threatened that as soon as the grass was up in spring a combined outbreak would take place along our entire frontier, and especially against the main routes of travel. To assemble the tribes for the desired council, word was sent early in March to the agents of those tribes whom it was desirable to meet. The agents sent runners to the villages inviting them to meet us at some point near the Arkansas river.

General Hancock, with the artillery and six companies of infantry, reached Fort Riley, Kansas, from Fort Leavenworth by rail the last week in March; here he was joined by four companies of the Seventh Cavalry and an additional company of the Thirty-seventh Infantry. It was at this point that I joined the expedition. And as a very fair sample of the laurels which military men may win in an Indian campaign by a zealous discharge of what they deem their duty, I will here state, in parenthesis, that after engaging in the expedition, some of the events of which I am about to relate, and undergoing fatigue, privations, and dangers equal to those of a campaign during the Rebellion, I found myself at the termination of the campaign again at Fort Riley _in arrest_. This is not mentioned in a fault-finding spirit. I have no fault to find. It is said that blessings sometimes come in disguise. Such proved to be true in this instance, although I must say the disguise for some little time was most perfect.

From Fort Riley we marched to Fort Harker, a distance of ninety miles, where our force was strengthened by the addition of two more troops of cavalry. Halting only long enough to replenish our supplies, we next directed our march toward Fort Larned, near the Arkansas, about seventy miles to the southeast. A march from the 3d to the 7th of April brought us to Fort Larned. The agent for the Comanches and Kiowas accompanied us. At Fort Larned we found the agent of the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, and Apaches; from the latter we learned that he had, as requested, sent runners to the chiefs of his agency inviting them to the council, and that they had agreed to assemble near Fort Larned on the 10th of the month, requesting that the expedition would remain there until that date. To this request General Hancock acceded.

On the 9th of April, while encamped awaiting the council, which was to be held the following day, a terrible snow-storm occurred, lasting all day until late in the evening. It was our good fortune to be in camp rather than on the march; had it been otherwise, we could not well have escaped without loss of life from the severe cold and blinding snow. The cavalry horses suffered seriously, and were only preserved by doubling their ration of oats, while to prevent their being frozen during the intensely cold night which followed, the guards were instructed to keep passing along the picket lines with a whip, and to keep the horses moving constantly. The snow was eight inches in depth. The council, which was to take place the next day, had to be postponed until the return of good weather. Now began the display of a kind of diplomacy for which the Indian is peculiar. The Cheyennes and a band of the Sioux were encamped on Pawnee Fork, about thirty miles above Fort Larned. They neither desired to move nearer to us nor have us approach nearer to them. On the morning of the 11th they sent us word that they had started to visit us, but discovering a large herd of buffalo near their camp, they had stopped to procure a supply of meat. This message was not received with much confidence, nor was a buffalo-hunt deemed of sufficient importance to justify the Indians in breaking their engagement. General Hancock decided, however, to delay another day, when, if the Indians still failed to come in, he would move his command to the vicinity of their village and hold the conference there.

Orders were issued on the evening of the 12th for the march to be resumed on the following day. Later in the evening two chiefs of the “Dog Soldiers,” a band composed of the most warlike and troublesome Indians on the Plains, chiefly made up of Cheyennes, visited our camp. They were accompanied by a dozen warriors, and expressed a desire to hold a conference with General Hancock, to which he assented. A large council fire was built in front of the General’s tent, and all the officers of his command assembled there. A tent had been erected for the accommodation of the chiefs a short distance from the General’s. Before they could feel equal to the occasion, and in order to obtain time to collect their thoughts, they desired that supper might be prepared for them, which was done. When finally ready they advanced from their tent to the council fire in single file, accompanied by their agent and an interpreter. Arrived at the fire, another brief delay ensued. No matter how pressing or momentous the occasion, an Indian invariably declines to engage in a council until he has filled his pipe and gone through with the important ceremony of a smoke. This attended to, the chiefs announced that they were ready “to talk.” They were then introduced to the principal officers of the group, and seemed much struck with the flashy uniforms of the few artillery officers who were present in all the glory of red horsehair plumes, aigulets, etc. The chiefs seemed puzzled to determine whether these insignia designated chieftains or medicine men. General Hancock began the conference by a speech, in which he explained to the Indians his purpose in coming to see them, and what he expected of them in the future. He particularly informed them that he was not there to make war, but to promote peace. Then expressing his regret that more of the chiefs had not visited him, he announced his intention of proceeding on the morrow with his command to the vicinity of their village and there holding a council with all of the chiefs. Tall Bull, a fine, warlike-looking chieftain, replied to General Hancock, but his speech contained nothing important, being made up of allusions to the growing scarcity of the buffalo, his love for the white man, and the usual hint that a donation in the way of refreshments would be highly acceptable; he added that he would have nothing new to say at the village.

Several years prior to the events referred to, our people had captured from the Indians two children. I believe they were survivors of the Chivington massacre at Sand Creek, Colorado. These children had been kindly cared for, and were being taught to lead a civilized mode of life. Their relatives, however, made demands for them, and we by treaty stipulation agreed to deliver them up. One of them, a little girl, had been cared for kindly in a family living near Denver, Colorado; the other, a boy, had been carried East to the States, and it was with great difficulty that the Government was able to learn his whereabouts and obtain possession of him. He was finally discovered, however, and sent to General Hancock, to be by him delivered up to his tribe. He accompanied the expedition, and was quite a curiosity for the time being. He was dressed comfortably, in accordance with civilized custom; and, having been taken from his people at so early an age, was apparently satisfied with the life he led. The Indians who came to our camp expressed a great desire to see him, and when he was brought into their presence they exhibited no emotion such as white men under similar circumstances might be expected to show. They evidently were not pleased to see him clothed in the white man’s dress. The little fellow, then some eight or ten years of age, seemed little disposed to go back to his people. I saw him the following year in the village of his tribe; he then had lost all trace of civilization, had forgotten his knowledge of the English language, and was as shy and suspicious of the white men as any of his dusky comrades. From older persons of the tribe we learned that their first act after obtaining possession of him was to deprive him of his “store clothes,” and in their stead substitute the blanket and leggings.

Rightly concluding that the Indians did not intend to come to our camp as they had at first agreed to, it was decided to move nearer to their village. On the morning following the conference held with the two chiefs of the “Dog Soldiers,” our entire force therefore marched from Fort Larned up Pawnee Fork in the direction of the main village, encamping the first night about twenty-one miles from the fort. Several parties of Indians were seen in our advance during the day, evidently watching our movements; while a heavy smoke, seen to rise in the direction of the Indian village, indicated that something more than usual was going on. This smoke we afterwards learned arose from the burning grass. The Indians, thinking to prevent us from encamping in their vicinity, had set fire to and burned all the grass for miles in the direction from which they expected us. Before we arrived at our camping-ground we were met by several chiefs and warriors belonging to the Cheyennes and Sioux. Among the chiefs were Pawnee Killer of the Sioux, and White Horse of the Cheyennes. It was arranged that these chiefs should accept our hospitality and remain with us during the night, and in the morning all the chiefs of the two tribes then in the village were to come to General Hancock’s headquarters and hold a council. On the morning of the 14th Pawnee Killer left our camp at an early hour, for the purpose, as he said, of going to the village to bring in the other chiefs to the council. Nine o’clock had been agreed upon as the hour at which the council should assemble. The hour came, but the chiefs did not. Now an Indian council is not only often an important but always an interesting occasion. And, somewhat like a famous recipe for making a certain dish, the first thing necessary in holding an Indian council is to get the Indian. Half-past nine o’clock came, and still we were lacking this one important part of the council. At this juncture Bull Bear, an influential chief among the Cheyennes, came in and reported that the chiefs were on their way to our camp, but would not be able to reach it for some time. This was a mere artifice to secure delay. General Hancock informed Bull Bear that as the chiefs could not arrive for some time, he would move his forces up the stream nearer to the village, and the council could be held at our camp that night. To this proposition Bull Bear gave his assent.

At 11 A. M. we resumed the march, and had proceeded but a few miles when we witnessed one of the finest and most imposing military displays, prepared according to the Indian art of war, which it has ever been my lot to behold. It was nothing more nor less than an Indian line of battle drawn directly across our line of march; as if to say, Thus far and no further. Most of the Indians were mounted; all were bedecked in their brightest colors, their heads crowned with the brilliant war-bonnet, their lances bearing the crimson pennant, bows strung, and quivers full of barbed arrows. In addition to these weapons, which with the hunting-knife and tomahawk are considered as forming the armament of the warrior, each one was supplied with either a breech-loading rifle or revolver, sometimes with both--the latter obtained through the wise foresight and strong love of fair play which prevails in the Indian Department, which, seeing that its wards are determined to fight, is equally determined that there shall be no advantage taken, but that the two sides shall be armed alike; proving, too, in this manner the wonderful liberality of our Government, which not only is able to furnish its soldiers with the latest improved style of breech-loaders to defend it and themselves, but is equally able and willing to give the same pattern of arms to their common foe. The only difference is, that the soldier, if he loses his weapon, is charged double price for it; while to avoid making any such charge against the Indian, his weapons are given him without conditions attached. In the line of battle before us there were several hundred Indians, while further to the rear and at different distances were other organized bodies acting apparently as reserves. Still further were small detachments who seemed to perform the duty of couriers, and were held in readiness to convey messages to the village. The ground beyond was favorable for an extended view, allowing the eye to sweep the plain for several miles. As far as the eye could reach small groups or individuals could be seen in the direction of the village; these were evidently parties of observation, whose sole object was to learn the result of our meeting with the main body and hasten with the news to the village.

For a few moments appearances seemed to foreshadow anything but a peaceful issue. The infantry was in the advance, followed closely by the artillery, while my command, the cavalry, was marching on the flank. General Hancock, who was riding with his staff at the head of the column, coming suddenly in view of the wild fantastic battle array, which extended far to our right and left and not more than half a mile in our front, hastily sent orders to the infantry, artillery, and cavalry to form line of battle, evidently determined that if war was intended we should be prepared. The cavalry, being the last to form on the right, came into line on a gallop, and, without waiting to align the ranks carefully, the command was given to “draw sabre.” As the bright blades flashed from their scabbards into the morning sunlight, and the infantry brought their muskets to a carry, a most beautiful and wonderfully interesting sight was spread out before and around us, presenting a contrast which, to a military eye, could but be striking. Here in battle array, facing each other, were the representatives of civilized and barbarous warfare. The one, with but few modifications, stood clothed in the same rude style of dress, bearing the same patterned shield and weapon that his ancestors had borne centuries before; the other confronted him in the dress and supplied with the implements of war which the most advanced stage of civilization had pronounced the most perfect. Was the comparative superiority of these two classes to be subjected to the mere test of war here? Such seemed the prevailing impression on both sides. All was eager anxiety and expectation. Neither side seemed to comprehend the object or intentions of the other; each was waiting for the other to deliver the first blow. A more beautiful battle-ground could not have been chosen. Not a bush or even the slightest irregularity of ground intervened between the two lines which now stood frowning and facing each other. Chiefs could be seen riding along the line as if directing and exhorting their braves to deeds of heroism.