Sand Creek Massacre

On November 29, 1864, the Sand Creek Massacre took place. The Colorado militia killed about 150 peaceful Cheyenne and Arapaho Indians including Cheyenne chief One-Eye. From the article:

"Sand Creek Massacre
By J. Jay Myers

COLONEL JOHN M. CHIVINGTON drew up on the ridge at dawn on November 29, 1864. It was cold that day. He studied the situation below him, deciding how best to deploy his 750 Colorado Volunteers and four 12-pound howitzers. He saw 100 lodges (tepees) of Southern Cheyennes and 30 lodges of their Arapaho allies stretching for a mile along the bend of Big Sandy Creek in southeastern Colorado. Cheyenne Chief Black Kettle was the most prominent and influential leader in that village.

The colonel’s decisions and actions that day would make him a hero. But only briefly. The hero’s mantle was soon swept away and replaced by the devil’s horns. Chivington became an American villain–reviled and denounced primarily because of testimony given in hearings before a Senate committee in the second session of the 39th Congress in March 1865. Not much attention, however, has been given to possible ulterior motives of people giving those eyewitness accounts of what happened that day.

Most of those who write about the action at Big Sandy Creek (usually called Sand Creek) state unequivocally that Chivington’s bloodthirsty, frustrated 100-day volunteers attacked Black Kettle’s peace-loving Cheyennes and their Arapaho friends without warning (see article in December 1993 Wild West). We usually read that they then just ran amok and wiped out the village in a wild frenzy of undisciplined bloodletting. Did they, however, really massacre, torture, scalp and horribly mutilate the bodies of their victims, as many as two-thirds of them defenseless women and children?

Was Sand Creek simply another terrible episode in the long, tragic tale of the white man’s conquering of the Indian? Perhaps it was, but there are disturbing questions about the Senate committee hearings. Almost every reference to that action tells the same deplorable story. Yet, in later years, the people of Colorado welcomed Colonel Chivington, were proud to have him live among them and honored him by giving a town his name–and all of this was not just because the former Methodist minister had been a Civil War hero.

Soon after the shelling of Fort Sumter, S.C., in April 1861, John Chivington offered his services to William Gilpin, governor of Colorado Territory. Gilpin offered to make him a chaplain, but Chivington is supposed to have said: ‘I feel compelled to strike a blow in person for the destruction of human slavery….’ So the governor appointed him major of a volunteer regiment.

Some months later, the ‘Fighting Parson’ was appointed colonel and put in charge of the newly created Military District of Colorado. He watched the tensions escalate between the white settlers and the Indians. The Indians had discovered these white people were no longer just passing through on the way to the Far West as the Forty-Niners had done. These intruders were farmers and cattle raisers and were appropriating traditional hunting grounds, tearing up the land with plows, and putting cattle on grasslands needed by the buffalo.

The Cheyennes and the Arapahos tentatively seemed to accept the situation, perhaps believing it was only temporary. Black Kettle actually went to Denver on a friendly visit and was well-received. He apparently believed the whites would soon move farther west. Black Kettle did say, however, that he hoped none of them would say or do anything to stir up his people and that he hoped the whites would not stay too long because, after all, it was Indian land.

The stage was set for tragedy. The Cheyennes were becoming more destitute and restive. They continued their time-honored avocation of war against the Utes and the Pawnees. They frightened the white settlers as they passed by on their way to raid the Utes. But they frightened them even more on their return as they yelled and whooped and brandished Ute scalps. Small bands of Cheyenne and Arapaho warriors robbed homes and stole cattle, provisions and horses.

Winter brought a lull in Indian activity. The Cheyenne and Arapaho war ponies were winter-lean, and besides, it was no fun to play war games in the cold weather. Old-time settlers said the peace during the winter was typical. The Indians always made peace in the winter–to get government blankets and food.

Winter and peace did leave together. The Cheyennes were hungry, and they stole cattle on several occasions. Troops were dispatched to punish the guilty. Still, the attacks on white settlers and travelers increased in 1863, and the situation in eastern Colorado continued to worsen in the spring of 1864.

Colonel Chivington was under the direct orders of Maj. Gen. Samuel Ryan Curtis, who believed the Indian agents ‘babied’ the Indians and made them difficult to deal with on a ‘realistic’ basis. Like most Denver citizens, Chivington was appalled when, on June 11, 1864, the mutilated bodies of Nathan Hungate, a rancher, and his wife and two children were brought into town and put on public display. The people were horrified, outraged and near panic. Trade on the supply trails was disrupted by raids. Food and various necessities were running short in Denver and other Colorado mining towns. More horror stories spread rapidly through the area.

Governor John Evans and most settlers believed there was a general Indian uprising. Hoping to break up what he thought was a united Indian front, the governor sent messages to the tribes to report to certain forts where they would be provided with food and protected from troops looking for hostile Indians.

In early July, Kiowa Chief Satanta was rebuffed when he wanted to visit Fort Larned in Kansas, so he put an arrow into the arm of a sentry and his braves ran off the fort’s whole herd of horses. When several Cheyenne and Arapaho chiefs carrying a white flag approached Fort Larned to discuss the problem, the angry soldiers fired a cannon at them. All Indians looked alike to the white men in the fort.

Rage swept through the Cheyenne-Arapaho villages. A meeting was held with the Northern Cheyenne, and some of the Sioux. The summer of warfare began. The Indians raided the Platte River wagon trains. Many white settlers were killed–estimates run as high as 200. Ranches were burned out. Few captives survived.

Absolute terror gripped the Colorado settlements. In mid-August, Governor Evans let Secretary of War Edwin Stanton know that ‘large bodies of Indians are undoubtedly near to Denver, and we are in danger of destruction both from attacks of Indians and starvation.’ Action had to be taken. In late September, Colonel Chivington received a message from General Curtis: ‘I shall require the bad Indians delivered up, restoration of stock; also hostages to secure. I want no peace until the Indians suffer more….I fear the agent of the Indian Department will be ready to make presents too soon….No peace must be made without my direction.’

At the same time, on September 28, Chivington and Governor Evans met with Black Kettle, White Antelope and several other chiefs at Camp Weld, near Denver. What was said and who promised what is still a matter of controversy. Someone at the meeting wrote down some of the dialogue in which Black Kettle admitted he had chosen not to come to talk with Evans when he was asked to come in June, but now he wanted the governor to understand ‘that we have made peace.’ Black Kettle acknowledged he had sent an earlier message that he wanted nothing to do with him or ‘the Great Father in Washington.’

The chief also admitted that 13 bands of Sioux, some Arapahos, Kiowas and Comanches, and some of his own Southern Cheyennes were still on the warpath. Evans told Black Kettle that he no longer had the power to negotiate a peace. It was now up to the military.

Chivington then rose and addressed Black Kettle and the other Cheyenne and Arapaho chiefs at the meeting: ‘I am not a big war chief but all the soldiers in this country are at my command. My rule of fighting white men or Indians is fight them until they lay down their arms and submit to military authority.’ He added that the Indians could go to Fort Lyon ‘when they are ready to do that.’ It had to be a complete surrender.

In October, Chief Left Hand brought about 40 Arapahos and surrendered some of the loot from the summer warfare. Black Kettle and his band of about 400 did not appear. General Curtis appointed Major Scott Anthony commander of Fort Lyon on November 2 because the major would not be’soft’ on the Indians like his predecessor, Major Edward Wanshear Wynkoop. About this time, Arapaho Chief Little Raven arrived at Fort Lyon with 650 of his people. After a week, Anthony decided he could not feed that many, and sent them off to hunt buffalo.

Black Kettle and War Bonnet came to Anthony in early November and told him they wanted peace. The major could not negotiate peace so he sent them to Sand Creek, about 35 miles northeast of Fort Lyon. He told them if he received orders to negotiate he would notify them. Anthony did not, however, ask for permission to negotiate. He told Curtis he knew where the Cheyennes and Arapahos were camped and would attack if he had enough troops.

Black Kettle no doubt suspected that Anthony would strike if he got the necessary manpower, but the chief apparently assumed that peace conditions would exist while he waited for negotiations to take place. Left Hand arrived with some Arapaho lodges, so about 650 or 700 Indians were living along the bend of Sand Creek by the middle of November.

General Curtis sent a terse message to Chivington that read in part: ‘Pursue everywhere and chastise the Cheyennes and Arapaho; pay no attention to district lines. No presents must be made and no peace concluded without my consent.’ The colonel had his orders, and he also knew that the men of the 3rd Colorado Volunteer Cavalry Regiment had enlisted late in August for just 100 days. Their enlistments would soon be over, and they were tired of camp life and angered by the jeers of ‘Bloodless Third.’ The time to act was now, if he wanted to stop the expected uprising of the united tribes.

Along with his orders from Curtis, Chivington also had a message from Indian Agent Samuel E. Colley saying he had been unable to do anything with the Indians for the last six months. ‘In my opinion they should be punished for their hostile acts,’ Colley said. The Cheyennes and the Arapahos could not continue to play their game of war in summer and peace in winter.

On November 24, 1864, Chivington marched his men out of their rendezvous 50 miles southeast of Denver. He had the entire 3rd Colorado Volunteer Cavalry, three companies of the 1st Colorado Volunteer Cavalry and the four howitzers. An early storm made the march very difficult. The men were inadequately clad and badly mounted. They had to force their way through deep snow and endure bitter cold as they followed along the Arkansas River toward Fort Lyon (near present-day Lamar; it was replaced in 1867 by a new Fort Lyon, near Las Animas). Each night they crawled into icy bedding at 10 o’clock, and reveille sounded at 4 a.m.

When Chivington’s command arrived at Fort Lyon on the afternoon of November 28, Anthony did not mention the visit of Black Kettle and War Bonnet. The major just said he knew where the hostiles were camped–about 1,000 of them at Sand Creek and about 2,000 more farther north in the Smoky Hill River region. Because Chivington wanted to get to Sand Creek by dawn, he and his volunteers, accompanied by Anthony and some other men from the fort, departed at about 8 p.m. and hurried through the night.

When the first light on the 29th slipped in from the east, the troops were on the ridge, about a mile from the village. Chivington said he did not plan to attack without notice. He intended to surround the camp and then immobilize the warriors by capturing the 500 to 600 horses grazing in two herds near the lodges. If there was going to be a fight, he did not want those great horse soldiers to be mounted. On horseback they were even more fearsome warriors than on foot.

Several of his junior officers had been with Major Wynkoop the day he had negotiated with Black Kettle back in September. They insisted these Cheyennes and Arapahos were peaceful and that the Indians believed a peace existed because Wynkoop had promised them protection. These officers said it would be murder to attack the camp because Wynkoop had pledged his word of honor that there would be no attack.

Although it is difficult to know who could have recorded the colonel’s exact words, he is reported to have answered, at least in part: ‘The Cheyenne nation has been waging bloody war against the whites all spring, summer and fall, and Black Kettle is their principal chief. They have been guilty of arson, murder, rape and fiendish torture, not even sparing women and little children. I believe it is right and honorable to use any means under God’s heaven to kill Indians who kill and torture women and children. Damn any man who is in sympathy with them.’ Even if those were not his exact words, they certainly expressed his well-known feelings.

From up on the low bluff, Chivington deployed some troops to capture the Indian ponies. The howitzers, loaded with canister, were aimed at the village. Some of the Indian horses broke from the herd and raced toward the village. A few early rising women were outside and shouted the alarm. Warriors, women and children ran out of their lodges. What happened after that is not certain. The rest of the battle, or massacre, is shrouded in controversy.

Probably the Coloradoans’ initial charge was repulsed by a line of approximately 100 warriors. Chief White Antelope is said to have been shot down in the first volley. A second charge, frontal and on both flanks, drove the Indians back along the creek, where they took up the fight from pits hastily dug into the sandy banks. The hostilities lasted until about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Chivington then assembled his troops in one area of the village. Arapahos and Cheyennes were escaping in the direction of Smoky Hill, some on horses, most on foot. Chivington’s men stayed on the alert that night because they thought warriors might come down from Smoky Hill to seek revenge. In the first report sent to General Curtis, Chivington called it ‘one of the most bloody Indian battles ever fought on these plains.’ He said his men had killed 500 Indians, including Black Kettle. In reality, there were probably fewer fatalities than that, and Black Kettle was not one of them (the chief would die at the Battle of the Washita four years later).

When Chivington and the now ‘Bloody Third’ returned to Denver in late December, they were greeted as heroes–glorious heroes. The 3rd Colorado was soon mustered out; Colonel Chivington’s commission ended on January 6, 1865. By then, however, there were also some people who wanted an investigation of Chivington’s actions on November 29, 1864. The ‘heroes’ of Sand Creek were being charged with not only having perpetrated a massacre of women and children but also having horribly mutilated the bodies of their victims.

Actually, there were three official investigations. The Army conducted one and decided a court-martial was not called for. General Curtis said that the Army was so full of ‘personal and political strife…it is almost impossible to get an honest, impartial determination of facts.’

Congress held two hearings. A great deal of testimony was recorded by people who were actually there. The House Committee on the Conduct of the War concluded that Chivington had ‘deliberately planned and executed a foul and dastardly massacre which would have disgraced the varied & savage among those who were the victims of his cruelty.’ But the problem is that so much of the testimony is contradictory. Some witnesses stated absolutely that Black Kettle was flying a U.S. flag on a flagpole in front of his lodge and that he had a white flag right below it. Lieutenant Joseph Cramer, who had no love for Chivington, testified that he saw no such flag. Others also denied the flag story, and, in truth, it would have been very unusual for an Indian to have had a flagpole with a U.S. flag flying from it.

There is not even approximate agreement on how many Indians were killed at Sand Creek. In his second report to General Curtis (sent December 16, 1864), Colonel Chivington said,’Between 500 and 600 Indians were left dead upon the field.’ A Captain Booth ‘counted’ 69 dead, and Corporal Amos Miksch noted 123 dead. Others offered such figures as 148, 150, 200, 300, 400 and 450. The Cheyennes carried off their wounded and many of their dead, so no one was really able to say how many were killed that day.

Nor was anyone ever able to positively say how many of the dead were women and children. The eyewitness accounts, again, vary amazingly. John Simpson Smith–a trader and an interpreter who hated the colonel, but whose testimony is frequently quoted as though he were unbiased–said half the dead were men. Ed Guerrier, a half-Cheyenne, said two-thirds were women and children. Corporal Miksch said only about ‘twenty-five were full-grown men.’ Major Jacob Downing testified, ‘I counted about twelve or fifteen women and a few children.’ Lieutenant Cramer said two-thirds were women and children, but Stephen Decatur, acting battalion adjutant at Sand Creek, claimed only a few were. Colonel Chivington testified, ‘I saw but one woman who had been killed; I saw no dead children.’

It is just as impossible to determine how many Indian bodies were mutilated. Robert Bent, a half-blood, gave gruesome testimony about mutilated Indians. So did John Smith. On the other hand, Captain L. Wilson spoke of picking up a child off the field and giving it to one of the women. Major Downing testified, ‘I saw no soldier scalping anybody, but saw one or two bodies that had been scalped.’

Trying to determine who lied to the investigating committees is no easy task. Most likely, there was some scalping and mutilating of bodies. Both whites and Indians practiced that kind of warfare in that area and in that era. Many of the Colorado Volunteers believed the only way to fight Indians was the way Indians fought. The Cheyennes believed that if the body was mutilated, the person would have to go through his afterlife that way–a horrible fate. Therefore, many Colorado Volunteers believed that if they could put the fear of mutilation into the Cheyennes, then the Indians would be reluctant to risk war. And after Sand Creek, although the Indians conducted ferocious war in Kansas and Nebraska and twice raided Julesburg in northeast Colorado, they did not raid the settlements of the Denver area.

As to whether Black Kettle’s people were really at peace that November, there is some question. The chief had admitted at an earlier conference with Governor Evans that some of his warriors were not complying with his peace efforts. Also, some of them were up at the Smoky Hill camp, which was a center for anti-peace Cheyennes and Arapahos. That there were not as many warriors in Black Kettle’s village as the Colorado Volunteers expected might have been because more of them were up at Smoky Hill.

In the congressional hearings, Dr. Caleb Birdsall, assistant surgeon with the volunteers, testified that later in the day of the fighting, ‘a soldier came to the opening of a lodge and called my attention to five or six scalps….My impression was that one or two of them were not more than ten days off the head.’ Another doctor said he saw a great many white scalps–some freshly taken, one of them five to eight days before. War parties had certainly raided since the peace talks.

Was Sand Creek a battle or a massacre? The answer will never be agreed upon by all those who study it, but one piece of uncontested evidence should be given more attention than it has received. The fighting lasted from dawn until about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. There was also sporadic fighting the next day (November 30), with two soldiers and perhaps a dozen Indians being killed. In the two days of fighting, Chivington’s force suffered 54 casualties–14 troopers killed and 40 wounded. There is also some evidence that several Indian women joined the men in fighting from the pits in the sandy bank. There was very real fighting. The valley was not a shooting gallery.

It should also be pointed out that John Chivington did not command disciplined troops on that November day. The Colorado Volunteers were not well-trained, and for the most part they were boisterous, vengeful, independent men from the wild mining settlements. There is no proof that the colonel in any way encouraged atrocities.

Finally, it should be pointed out that Chivington had political enemies. He was being proposed as the first congressman in Washington when Colorado was admitted as a state. He had rivals for that honor, and there was also a group of Colorado Territory officeholders who did not want the territory to become a state. They would lose their appointments to office if statehood was granted, so they wanted to discredit Chivington and all others who were working for statehood.

Then, too, some who testified were Indian traders, who were angry because the fight at Sand Creek had driven away the Cheyennes and the Arapahos. The honest traders were angry, but the most vindictive–the ones who offered the most damning testimony–were the ones like D.D. Colley (son of Indian agent Samuel Colley), who were infamous for cheating the government and defrauding the Indians. How valuable is their testimony?

Twenty years after Sand Creek, the Colorado pioneers were celebrating the 25th anniversary of the settling of Colorado and invited Chivington to attend. He was a hero again, and when he said, ‘I stand by Sand Creek,’ there was great applause. Coloradoans asked him to come back and live among them, which he did. He died of cancer in Denver in October 1894.

Battle or massacre? Chivington guilty or Chivington innocent? Whatever the answers to those questions, there can be little doubt that Sand Creek occurred because of white incursions, government mismanagement, broken treaties and the fact that there were not only ‘bad’ white men but also ‘bad’ Indians."