Fort Lyon (top center) was built in 1860 and was originally named Fort Wise. It was erected on the left bank of the Arkansas River above Bent’s New Fort. Denver Public Library
John Chivington had finally shaken free of General Connor to hurry south to join his troops, who had spent weeks struggling through snow and frigid temperatures. Major Sayr had moved several companies across the divide from the South Platte to the Arkansas watershed. “The snow was so deep on the north side of the divide,” recalled Private Shaw of Company A, “that it took all of one day for the company to plow its way through the snow and out of the timber.” At dark they threw their blankets on the snow and waited for morning. One soldier died. Sayr marched south through snow of “unknown depths” in the gulches, where, he wrote, “horses and riders would go nearly out of sight.” A number of animals died while others were abandoned.
On November 15 at Fountain Creek, the cold and snowy weather of the past two weeks finally broke. The temperature now got so warm it became uncomfortable. More horses broke down. A day later the weather turned cold once more with a bitter west wind, and more animals had to be abandoned. The weary troops headed east along the Arkansas River about 15 miles to the new Camp Fillmore, just above Boone’s Ranch. Albert Boone, a grandson of frontiersman Daniel Boone, was enjoying retirement from his former job as Indian agent. He was less than pleased when the soldiers made their sudden appearance, and would later file claims with the government for damages they inflicted to his ranch.
Colonel Shoup finally caught up five miles east of Pueblo and gathered Company G of the Third Colorado, whose members had just been recalled after being sent home weeks earlier. Only a day after Irving Howbert returned from Colorado City, the company finally received its arms, ammunition, and equipment. It had taken nearly three months to get the munitions. “The guns were old, out-of-date Austrian muskets of large bore with paper cartridges from which we had to bite off the end when loading,” grumbled Howbert. “Their accuracy was atrocious. One could never tell where it would hit.” When the horses arrived, Howbert’s spirits dropped again. “They were a motley looking group, composed of every kind of an equine animal from a pony to a plow horse,” he observed. “I had the misfortune to draw a rawboned, square-built old plow horse, upon which thereafter I spent a good many uncomfortable hours … our equipment, as to arms and mounts, was of the poorest kind.” Ready or not, Company G joined Shoup as he continued down the Arkansas “From that time on,” recalled Howbert, “our real hardships began.”1
The troops rested at Camp Fillmore for two days under clear and cold weather. On November 23, Colonel Chivington, Maj. Jacob Downing, and acting adjutant Lt. John S. Maynard rode into camp. As district commander, Chivington outranked Colonel Shoup and assumed command. While Chivington was still the hero of the fighting at Glorieta Pass and the ideal of a dashing and fearless commander, his image had tarnished of late. He may have been seen as something of a usurper. His assuming command, wrote Sayr, “gives pretty general dissatisfaction.”
Under his direction the force moved downriver, making 15 miles on the 24th. Courier Billy Breakenridge camped with the scouts and seemed to be enjoying their company. “They were splendid fellows and knew their duties,” recalled Breakenridge. Alexander F. Safely of the Third Colorado’s Company H was one of the scouts, as was Antoine Janis. A third, Duncan Kerr of Company C, First Colorado, had scalped some Indians in a battle at Buffalo Springs the month previous. Charles Autobees, a 52-year-old ex-mountain man and trader, was riding along for his expertise. (Autobees’ 27-year-old son, Mariano, was the earlier mentioned lieutenant in Company H, Third Colorado.) The most famous of the scouts was old James P. Beckwourth, a mulatto born in Virginia in 1798, an ex-mountain man, trapper, trader, and Crow Indian “chief.” For the past few years, Beckwourth had operated a store in Denver for Vasquez and Company. He was never that comfortable with city life, however, and had recently ran afoul of the law after blasting a man with a shotgun during a barroom brawl. Beckwourth was probably more than happy to accept Colonel Shoup’s offer to scout for the regiment.
The weather warmed as the men rode down the Arkansas River. The scouts caught 11 antelope unfortunate enough to have gotten stuck after breaking through the crust of the deep snow. Breakenridge and Kerr rode on either side of the struggling animals, catching each by the horns and lifting them up so Kerr could cut its throat with his Bowie knife. They killed them all without firing a shot and loaded them on to the supply train when it passed by. Kerr’s partiality for the free use of his Bowie knife was becoming more evident.2
Twelve miles of marching the next day under warm clearing skies brought the column to Spring Bottom, a stage station on the river and a good site with plenty of wood and water. Here, another troop joined Chivington’s command when Lt. Clark Dunn and the available men of Company E, First Colorado, came down from Camp Fillmore.
On Friday night, November 25, Chivington and some of his officers were warming themselves at the station when James M. Combs entered the room. Combs, who resided at Fort Lyon and had left there five days earlier to do business in Pueblo, was astonished to come across all the soldiers.
“They don’t expect me down there, do they?” Chivington inquired, beginning a line of inquiry that would aptly demonstrate how little he knew about the situation into which he was riding. When Combs answered that no one at Fort Lyon knew he was coming, the colonel replied, “No sir, they won’t know it till they see me there.”
Major Downing joined the conversation and asked Combs about the Indians and the commander at the fort. Combs replied that when he left, Major Anthony was in command. When Chivington asked who was in command before Anthony, Combs replied “Major Wynkoop.” At that, Chivington offered a hearty laugh “Oh! You must be mistaken. I think that Left Hand was in command before Major Anthony came here.”
By this time Combs was convinced they were making sport of him. When asked about Wynkoop’s location, Combs offered that he had heard the major had been ordered to Fort Larned (he knew not why), and he believed that he had left there the same day Combs left for Pueblo. At this, Chivington straightened in his chair and replied, “I know what he has gone there for; it is to take command of that post.” The facetious manner in which Chivington replied convinced Combs such was in fact not the case. Wynkoop “is a nice commander, and an honor to the Colorado first,” continued Chivington.
Fort Lyon (top center) was built in 1860 and was originally named Fort Wise. It was erected on the left bank of the Arkansas River above Bent’s New Fort. Denver Public Library
Changing the subject, the colonel asked, “How do the Indians like Major Anthony down there?”
Not very well, Combs answered, for they gave him “hard names, calling him the red-eyed chief, and other names.” In reply to another inquiry Combs said he had no idea if Anthony fed the Indians as well as Wynkoop did, but confirmed both had given the Indians supplies.
When Chivington asked how far the Indians were from the post, Combs confirmed a large party was within a mile and a half of it, but that most had permission to be there.
“Are they troublesome?” asked the colonel.
Combs replied they were at the post almost every day, “begging and troubling us in that way.”
“Have they been in as much since Major Anthony has been in command?” Chivington asked.
On some days the major had allowed them in, explained Combs, and on some days he had not, but none were allowed in after Anthony gave express orders forbidding them. He went on to explain that soldiers and officers, including Major Wynkoop, Captain Soule, and Lt. Charles E. Phillips, visited the Indian camp, for Combs had been there often and had seen them there many times.
Chivington next inquired as to their numbers. There were some 200 warriors, replied Combs. He had seen them mounted all at the same time, with weapons ready about to go out to meet what was thought was a party of Ute raiders. When Chivington followed up with the question of whether the Indians were friendly, Combs confirmed that they were.3
Major Scott J. Anthony, First Colorado
He pretended peace, but led his troops to war.
Colorado Historical Society
Anxious for information, Chivington and his officers continued pumping Combs with questions. According to Dunn, Combs told Chivington that when Major Anthony took over, he did not approve of Wynkoop’s actions and ordered the Indians away from the post. He also ordered them to give up their arms, but the Indians only turned in a few bows and some broken rifles. Anthony also told the guard to fire on Indians who approached the fort without permission. When the Arapaho moved to Sand Creek, added Combs, warriors occasionally came to the fort to demand rations, but were refused. The soldiers at Fort Lyn “were daily expecting the post to be attacked.”
After digesting all this news, Chivington declared that “scalps are what we are after.” Combs would later relate that the conversation became “promiscuous” about scalps, with almost all of the officers engaging in the talk. Some wanted Neva’s hair, while others wanted Left Hand’s, and so on. Combs fed the fire by adding that he thought they could get nearly 500 scalps within one day’s march of the fort. “I thought he ought to do it with that party,” Combs admitted, adding that the Indians had given up their weapons and could probably be taken with 50 men, but Anthony had returned some weapons to let them go out on a buffalo hunt.
“Have they all gone?” asked Chivington.
“Left Hand is very sick,” Combs replied, and most of his band was still at the post with him. Combs did not know where the rest had headed. After the colonel remarked that he would soon give them a lively buffalo hunt, the conversation died down. According to Combs, when he finished his supper and walked out, Chivington remarked, “Well, I long to be wading in gore.”4
* * *
Probably the same day Chivington and Combs conversed at Spring Bottom, Major Wynkoop left Fort Lyon for Fort Riley. Since November 2, when Major Anthony rode in with orders for his relief, Wynkoop had had plenty of time to reflect on the events that brought him to such dire straits.
When news of Wynkoop’s peace-making excursion had reached headquarters, the response was rapid. On October 17, Maj. Benjamin S. Henning, temporarily commanding the District of the Upper Arkansas, ordered Major Anthony to replace Wynkoop and ordered him to Fort Riley. The reason given for the change was because “certain officers have issued stores, goods, or supplies to hostile Indians, in direct violation of orders from the general commanding the department.” In his letter to Anthony, Major Henning added, “I am very desirous to have an officer of judgment at Fort Lyon, and especially one that will not commit any such foolish acts as are reported to have occurred there.”
Henning also cited a number of general and special orders, adding that Anthony was to obey “not only the letter of the order but the spirit.” Wynkoop’s actions met with “disapproval and censure,” he noted, and it could only have arisen from two causes: a total lack of knowledge “requisite to make a good and efficient officer, or an intentional disobedience of orders and almost criminal mismanagement of the affairs of his command.” Henning hoped that Anthony would not “have occasion to again refer to this subject.” General Curtis, the commander of the Department of Kansas (including the Colorado Territory), was also incensed that Major Wynkoop had broken almost every order he had been issued. Curtis warned Anthony not to make the same mistakes.
Anthony’s orders included the observation that “Major E. W. Wynkoop has laid himself liable to arrest and dismissal for absence without leave, and the Officer [Soule] who went with him liable for being absent without proper authority.” Henning stressed that the districts had been restructured in July, so they must follow orders from the District of the Upper Arkansas, and that all orders from the District of Colorado should have been returned. Supplies were to be kept under strict control. Captain Soule, explained Henning, had given a destitute emigrant a suit of clothes from the commissary when he should have given the man a suit of his own clothes, “as the issue on the order will be charged up to him.”
No commissary or ordnance would be allowed out of the district (the commanding officer “had as much right to turn them over … to the Confederate forces in Texas, as to send them from the district”), continued Henning. The looseness that existed at Fort Lyon would be dismissed as “more to ignorance than intentional insult”—at least up to September. Thereafter, it was simply considered intolerable for officers and men to have left their posts and imperiled government property, marching from their districts with large commands “seeking and assisting to make treaties between a hostile force, and parties that had no authority to make peace.” In a final admonition to Major Anthony, Henning reiterated that post commanders and their subordinates “will not inaugurate or send out military expeditions without orders from these Head Quarters.”5
Wynkoop had broken a series of rules, and Henning did all in his power to make it clear to Anthony that he could not commit the same errors. Unfortunately, the major did not get Henning’s directive until after Sand Creek.
* * *
Before Major Anthony arrived, Major Wynkoop had to deal with the 600 Arapaho who arrived on October 18. Governor Evans and General Curtis had ordered that no rations or other annuities should be given to the Indians, but Wynkoop fed them.
William H. Valentine, veterinary surgeon with the First Colorado, was disturbed by the menagerie of soldiers, civilians, traders, and Indians mingling freely. Some of the Arapaho involved in the Snyder killings were within the grounds of the fort. Valentine spoke with Left Hand and asked him if they were the ones who had attacked the Snyder wagon. “They are the Indians,” Left Hand affirmed. They still had eight of the mules that pulled the wagon and ambulance, claimed Valentine, but Major Wynkoop did nothing to arrest them. The slayers of the Snyders had the cheek to come in to Valentine’s office, but he immediately threw them out. Valentine was glad when Anthony arrived and ejected the Indians from the post. Later, at the military tribunal held to investigate the Sand Creek affair, Captain Soule testified that no one at the fort at the time knew that these Indians were the murderers of the Snyders. Who was telling the truth is difficult to discern.
Wynkoop believed his actions would be exonerated—until the westbound stage brought Major Anthony with orders for Wynkoop’s relief. Wynkoop was flabbergasted at his ouster, while Anthony was appalled to see Arapaho wandering around the post trading robes and receiving rations. “I immediately gave instructions to arrest all Indians coming within the post until I could learn something more about them,” explained Anthony. The Arapaho chiefs told him “that they had always been on peaceable terms with the whites, had never desired any other than peace.” They blamed other tribes for the war.
Anthony remained unconvinced and ordered them to give up all their weapons and stolen stock. The Arapaho agreed, but they only handed over 10 mules, four horses, and a few old useless firearms. Anthony warned them that if he learned any of them had taken part in the depredations of the past summer, he would promptly arrest them.
On November 6, nine Cheyenne arrived claiming that 600 of their tribe were 35 miles north of the post and wished to come in. “I shall not permit them to come in, even as prisoners,” replied Anthony. “They pretend that they want peace, and I think they do now, as they cannot fight during the winter.” The major concluded that 1,000 cavalrymen could catch them and punish them severely, but with the force at hand, he could only hope to defend the post he now commanded. In any case, he would not let the Cheyenne camp anywhere near the fort. Black Kettle disregarded Anthony’s orders and about 50 men arrived at the fort in mid-November. Wynkoop, who was allowed to speak to them, explained that he was no longer in command and they should listen to Major Anthony.6
Anthony was playing for time. He would rather fight them, but he knew he was not yet strong enough to do so. “I have been trying to let the Indians that I have talked with think that I have no desire for trouble with them,” he reported to General Curtis, “but that I could not agree upon a permanent peace until I was authorized by you, thus keeping matters quiet for the present, and until troops enough are sent out to enforce any demand we may choose to make.”
When the Cheyenne once more asked to move to the fort with winter upon them, Anthony flatly rejected the request. “I would not permit this,” he explained, “but told them that they might camp on Sand Creek.” They could go there “or between there and the headwaters of the Smoky Hill.” Neither the Cheyenne or the Arapaho were “satisfied” with the new commander “for not permitting them to visit the post and cannot understand why I will not make peace with them. My intention, however,” continued Anthony, “is to let matters remain dormant until troops can be sent out to take the field against all the tribes.”
Indeed they were not “satisfied.” The Cheyenne were especially displeased Major Wynkoop, the “tall chief,” had been removed. The Arapaho called Major Anthony the “red-eye chief”—a name related to the residual effects of his scurvy from which he had suffered—and thought he wanted to fight them. Matters, as far as the Arapaho were concerned “looked dark.” Interpreter John Prowers tried to reassure the Indians by telling them “everything [was] favorable,” but few if any believed him.7
About November 25, Wynkoop boarded the eastbound stage for Fort Riley. Did the major fully understand why he had been removed from command? In his March 1865 testimony to the Doolittle Commission, as well as in his autobiography, Wynkoop claimed he left Fort Lyon because he had received orders to go to Fort Riley to take command of that post!8
Wynkoop’s version of events deeply influenced historians. He later insisted the Indians had been peaceful since his conference with them on Smoky Hill on September 10 until after the Sand Creek fight on November 29. That contention is inaccurate in both fact and implication. If the Plains were suddenly peaceful after the Smoky Hill talk, then it was these Indians who were the ones causing all the trouble. If the region was so peaceful, why was his stage protected by an escort force of 28 soldiers?
When Wynkoop was in command, the Indians, who had usually gone into their annual autumn peace mode by then, had been engaged in at least nine fights along the trails leading to Colorado—more that year (1864) than than in any other year. Since the Smoky Hill council, there had been many fights between whites and Indians:
At Cottonwood Canyon on September 20;
A major confrontation between Gen. James Blunt and a few hundred Cheyenne at Pawnee Fork on September 25 (some of these warriors belonged to the bands of the same chiefs who were then arriving in Denver for a peace council);
Fights at White Butte Creek on October 10 and at Mullahla’s Station on the 12th; Hay cutters were attacked at Midway Station on the Platte River on October 28;
On November 13 at Ash Creek east of Fort Larned, Indians attacked a wagon train, killed two men, and stole the stock;
On November 19, Indians attacked an ox train four miles west of Plum Creek, Nebraska. Captain T. J. Majors and Capt. Thomas Weatherwax, with men of the First Nebraska Volunteer Cavalry, chased them to no avail;
On November 20, Capt. Henry Booth and Lt. A. Helliwell (the latter of whom had drafted the orders to remove Wynkoop from command) were jumped by Indians near Fort Zarah and raced back to the post, both having received several non-fatal arrow wounds;
On November 26, Indians attacked a coach five miles east of Plum Creek Station, killing two and wounding six among the drivers and passengers. Captain Majors and his men chased the raiders for 16 miles to Spring Creek before the horses became too exhausted to continue. The Indians made a stand in a ravine, and a sharp fight ensued that resulted in a draw. Majors recovered two scalps of the men murdered on the coach. One trooper was wounded and Majors claimed he killed three Indians.9
Clearly, the Indians had continued raiding into late fall. Whether or not they had a just cause is endlessly debatable. By 1864, both sides had been fighting a war that had flared off and on for a decade, and the conflict would continue for another 25 years. Wynkoop’s assertion that he had single-handedly stopped the fighting with his talk on the Smoky Hill was nonsense, and most likely a rationalization to save himself by trying to show that his peace initiative was justified. By insisting the fighting did not re-kindle until after Sand Creek, Wynkoop could place the onus of the Indian war at Chivington’s feet. His ploy was at least partially successful, for after more than a century, the popular conception is that Chivington started the Indian wars.
When Wynkoop left Fort Lyon, Captain Soule returned the weapons to the Arapaho and told to leave the post. Once they realized their sojourn at the fort was over, the Indians grew somewhat surly. Only a few days before Colonel Chivington arrived, Anthony had fired on some Cheyenne to keep them away. The Indians sent word to Anthony: “if that little G—d d—d red-eyed chief wanted a fight out of them, if he would go up to their camp they would give him all he wanted.”10
Little Raven expected trouble and had already gone to Sand Creek two weeks before. He camped south of the junction with Rush Creek only 25 miles from Fort Lyon, as did Neva and about 600 more Arapaho. Left Hand, however, took his family and some others and moved to Black Kettle’s camp farther up Sand Creek. Most of the Arapaho who had been fed, had surrendered their arms, and who likely considered themselves under army protection, were not later attacked. Some of the Arapaho who initially followed Left Hand later moved farther south to join Little Raven and Neva, a move that also would save them. Even Chivington’s critic, Lieutenant Cramer, understood the salient point that “but very few” of the protected Indians were targets—those who were struck were the Arapaho who chose to camp with Black Kettle.11
On November 26 the last few Indians vacated Fort Lyon and Chivington left Spring Bottom. That same day a Cheyenne named War Bonnet returned to the fort to ask Major Anthony if John Smith could go to the village to trade with them. Agent Sam Colley believed it was a good idea, and asked Smith if he “was able and willing to go out and pay a visit to these Indians, ascertain their numbers, their general disposition toward the whites, and the points where other bands might be located in the interior.” Colley’s trader son named Dexter could also go and use the opportunity to make a little money for both of them.
Governor Evans had sent Colley a letter on November 10 to cease trading, but Colley simply ignored it and Major Anthony sanctioned it. One Eye, who worked for the US Army, was already in Black Kettle’s village gathering intelligence. According to Anthony, “He [One Eye] was to remain in this Cheyenne camp as a spy, and give me information from time to time of the movements of this particular band.” In addition, Dexter Colley’s hired man, R. Watson Clarke, went along as teamster and laborer. Smith asked Anthony if trooper David H. Louderback from Company G, First Colorado, could accompany them. Louderback, explained Smith, understood they were to go to the camp “and see what the Indians were doing.” At the same time, they could also take along some goods to trade. As Louderback explained it, “Major Anthony gave me his permission to go out with him.”
The little party camped out on the open plains the evening of the 26th, and pulled into the Cheyenne village the next afternoon. They were not given a hearty welcome. Some of the warriors were angry. Louderback did not think Smith was in danger, but “they threatened to injure me.” The Cheyenne took their weapons, but when they saw the trade items they cooled down. Smith unpacked his goods in War Bonnet’s lodge, the mules were turned loose to graze, and they sat for an uneasy supper. The entire affair was stressful. “They thought I was a spy,” wrote Louderback—which was in fact a correct divination of his purpose—“sent out there by Major Anthony to see what they were doing.” The wary warriors, he concluded, believed the white men had come to “leave marks to show the soldiers the way out.”12
* * *
While Louderback passed the long anxious hours, Chivington drew closer to Fort Lyon. The colonel, trying to ensure that no word of his approach leaked out, enveloped William Bent’s ranch along the Arkansas. It was a sound preemptive move because William’s son, George, had been moving regularly between his father’s house and Black Kettle’s village. At that moment, William Bent’s son Charlie, his daughter Julia, and her husband, Edmund Guerrier, were living in camp with their mother’s Indian relations. Bent felt uneasy, for he likely discerned the reason for the soldiers’ presence; three of his children and his son-in-law were with Black Kettle. Trouble was brewing.
Other soldiers continued downriver to Caddo Creek, where they circled John Prowers’s ranch as he was herding government cattle, horses, and mules. Prowers was a son-in-law of One Eye and well acquainted with several chiefs. “I was taken prisoner one Sunday evening, about sundown,” recalled Prowers, “by men of Company E [First Colorado].” He and seven of his employees were disarmed and not allowed to leave his place for three days. “The colonel commanding thought I might communicate some news to the Indians encamped on Sand Creek.”13
No one at Fort Lyon knew of Chivington’s approach. No mail from Denver had arrived in three weeks, and Agent Colley assumed the Indians had cut off the settlements. At night someone thought he saw campfires upriver, and at sunrise on November 28, Captain Soule and 20 troopers rode to investigate. At Big Bottom, about a dozen miles above the fort, Soule met Chivington.
When the colonel inquired if anyone knew he was coming, “I told him they did not,” said Soule, who told Chivington that there were some Indians camped below the fort, but they were not dangerous because they were considered prisoners. Someone in Chivington’s entourage remarked “that they wouldn’t be prisoners after they got there.” Soule rode in with the regiment, but Chivington hurried on ahead.14
The colonel and his staff arrived about 9:00 a.m. and immediately set a guard around the fort. Adjutant Lt. John Maynard penned General Field Order No. 2:
I. Hereafter, no officer will be allowed to leave his command without the consent of the colonel commanding, and no soldier without a written pass from his company commander, approved by the commander of his battalion.
II. No fires will be allowed to burn after dark, unless specially directed from these headquarters.
III. Any person giving the Indians information of the movements of troops will be deemed a spy and shot to death.
Chivington was determined that no one would spoil his surprise. “A picket guard was thrown around the fort to turn away any Indians that might be coming in,” recalled Private Howbert, “and also to prevent any of the trappers or Indian traders who generally hung around there from notifying the savages of our presence.” How effective his order was in keeping men on the grounds is uncertain. Lieutenant Luther Wilson, for example, seems not to have even been aware of it. “No pickets were thrown around the post by the command,” he explained, “and nothing done to prevent anyone from passing out.15
As the command rode in, a surprised Scott Anthony went out to greet it. The first people he met were Capt. Presley Talbot, Lt. Harry Richmond, and Captain Soule. Before Anthony could say anything Richmond asked, “Where are the Indians?”
“I am damned glad you have come,” Anthony replied, reaching out to shake Richmond’s hand. “I have got them over here about twenty-five miles until I could send to Denver for assistance.” According to Talbot. Anthony expressed gratitude that they had come to attack the Indians, and “that he would have attacked them before this time if he had had force enough at his command.”16
Chivington rode upon the scene and told Anthony that he would ride for Sand Creek that night. Anthony volunteered to accompany him with a battalion of the First Colorado, and suggested that they also strike the larger camp of Indians on Smoky Hill. Chivington agreed, but figured the decision would depend on the outcome of the first attack. Anthony mentioned the three white men in the camp, as well as Black Kettle, One Eye, and Left Hand before pointing out that if a battle broke out, “all means to save those parties,” and that “if he did fight them he should give notice beforehand in order to get them out.”17
Word of the impending attack spread quickly. “I was indignant,” grumbled Captain Soule, who immediately went to Lt. James D. Cannon’s room (Company K, First New Mexico) and found there a congregation of officers. According to Soule, he “told them that any man who would take part in the murders, knowing the circumstances as we did, was a low lived cowardly son of a bitch.” Captain Jay J. Johnson reported Soule’s comments to Chivington. “You bet hell was to pay in camp,” wrote Soule. His position and name-calling were guaranteed to elicit a reaction, and “all hands swore they would hang me before they would move camp.”
The angry Soule next visited Major Anthony, where his protest was offered in vain: Anthony had already decided on a course of action. According to Soule, “He told me that we were going on the Smoky Hill to fight the hostile Indians; he also said that he was in for killing all Indians, and that he was only acting or had been only acting friendly with them until he could get a force large enough to go out and kill all of them.”
Soule reminded Anthony of the pledges he had made to some of the Indians, to which Anthony replied that Chivington had also pledged those particular Indians and the white men in camp would not be killed, “and that the object of the expedition was to go out [to] the Smoky Hill and follow the Indians up.” The reply failed to satisfy Soule. Both Anthony and Cramer warned Soule to stay away from Chivington because the colonel was upset over his remarks in Lieutenant Cannon’s room. Soule instead penned an explanation of his actions and gave it to Captain Talbot to present to Chivington. It was returned unopened.18
* * *
The Sand Creek affair is generally viewed as an operation carried out by the Third Colorado, but the First Colorado Regiment also played a major part. The troops of the First Colorado posted at Fort Lyon were no longer part of Chivington’s district, and so were not under his command. Chivington did not order these men to accompany him. As Lieutenant Cramer later testified, Chivington “did not order” Anthony to fight the Cheyenne. The colonel, he continued, “did not feel authorized to issue any orders” to the soldiers at Fort Lyon. Chivington wished Anthony would help them, and he ended up doing so on his own accord.19
The march to Sand Creek was originally scheduled to begin at 8:00 p.m. on November 28. With time running out, Lieutenant Cramer attempted to lodge a protest of his own and met Chivington in the company of several others. The conversation included a briefing of the upcoming operation. Sam Colley complained to Chivington that had had been unable to accomplish anything with the Indians for about six months, and that only a sound whipping would bring peace. According to Andrew Gill, one of Chivington’s aides, Colley went on to say that “the Indians were hard to manage, and the only thing to do any good was to chastise them severely.” Colonel Shoup had heard the same story from Colley: “He stated to me that these Indians had violated their treaty; that there were a few Indians that he would not like to see punished, but as long as they affiliated with the hostile Indians we could not discriminate; that no treaty could be made that would be lasting till they were all severely chastised…. and also told me where these Indians were camped.” Later, with the investigations in play and anti-Chivington fever running high, Colley changed his story and claimed he was a peace advocate and that he never wanted to go after the Indians. Self-preservation trumped truth.
Cramer also made his feelings known, stating openly that it would be murder to attack the camp because of “obligations that we of Major Wynkoop’s command were under to those Indians.” Wynkoop had pledged his word, he continued, and that meant all officers under him were at least indirectly pledged in the same manner. Fighting the Indians “was placing us in very embarrassing circumstances.”
Cramer’s plea enraged Chivington, who approached him to thunder, “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 robbery, arson, murder, rape, and fiendish torture, not even sparing women and little children. I believe it right and honorable to use any means under God’s heaven to kill Indians who kill and torture women and children.” Chivington raised his fist close to Cramer’s face and added, “Damn any man who sympathizes with Indians.”20 The meeting ended.
Before long, the officers had their units formed on the parade ground. Each man, recalled Private Howbert, was to take “two or three pounds of raw bacon and sufficient hardtack to last three or four days, which he was to carry in his saddlebags.” The supply train would follow along with another twenty days’ rations. Taking more than three weeks of foodstuffs is firm evidence that Chivington planned to honor his promise for a thorough campaign.
One of William Bent’s sons was not in the Sand Creek village—but he soon would be. Chivington may have been unsure of Jim Beckwourth’s ability or willingness to take them to the camp, so he sought out Robert Bent. The 24year-old mixed-blood son of William Bent and Owl Woman was employed as a guide and interpreter at Fort Lyon. “Colonel Chivington ordered me to accompany him on his way to Sand Creek,” remembered Bent. It was his job to do so.
“Boots and Saddles” was sounded about 8:00 p.m. The long lines of troopers made an imposing sight. Sergeant Morse H. Coffin of Company D, Third Colorado, estimated the column to number between 650 and 675 men of all ranks. “Our regiment,” explained Private Breakenridge, “had about five hundred men, as, when we got orders to move, a lot of soldiers were home on leave of absence and were not notified in time to join us.”
Chivington’s troops, comprised from two regiments, were divided into five battalions. Colonel Shoup’s Third Colorado Regiment included: Lieutenant Colonel Leavitt L. Bowen’s First Battalion, which consisted of Companies A, C, H, L, and M; Maj. Hal Sayr’s Second Battalion, which consisted of Companies B, G, I, and K; and Capt. Theodore Cree’s Third Battalion, which consisted of Companies D, E, and F. From troops of the First Colorado, Major Anthony’s First Battalion consisted of Companies D, G, K, and Lt. Luther Wilson’s Second Battalion consisted of Companies C, E, and H. Portions of all 12 companies of the Third Regiment were represented, although the majority of Companies K and L were still guarding the South Platte. Portions of seven companies of the First Colorado participated, as did some of Company K of the First New Mexico, which was overdue to return to its assigned post at Fort Union. Company F of the First Colorado, which had only a handful of men, joined Anthony’s First Battalion. The fact that the ranks were depleted was specifically mentioned by several officers. Neither regiment was at full strength, and some companies were merely skeletons of their usual roster.
One officer who did not go on the expedition had been out of the regimental mainstream for some time. Lieutenant Colonel Samuel F. Tappan of the First Colorado had been away for some months at Fort Leavenworth on court-martial duty. He had returned to Fort Lyon only two days before Chivington’s appearance. Tappan and Chivington had never gotten along. The hard feelings began in 1862 when Chivington, then a major, had been promoted to colonel of the regiment above Tappan, who was its second-in-command. Tappan’s chance to join his regiment and participate in the action ended when a horse-riding accident left him with a broken foot. He watched as the troops rode off without him.21
1 Perrigo, “Sayr’s Diary,” 53-54; Howbert, Indians of Pike’s Peak, 97-98; Roberts, “Sand Creek,” 833n49; Shaw, Pioneers of Colorado, 65.
2 Perrigo, “Sayr’s Diary,” 54; Elinor Wilson, Jim Beckwourth: Black Mountain Man and War Chief of the Crows (Norman, OK, 1972), 172-75; Breakenridge, Helldorado, 43-44.
3 “Sand Creek Massacre,” 115, 116-117, 133. Combs was mistaken for Wynkoop had not yet left for Larned on the 20th. Wynkoop was not even sure when he left: he testified to two different days, either the 25th or 26th. “Massacre of Cheyenne Indians,” 82; “Sand Creek Massacre,” 87, 123.
4 “Sand Creek Massacre,” 117-18, 179, 182. Combs’s memory was confused. He met Chivington on November 25, and could not have known the Arapaho had vacated the post for they were doing so that very day. Combs told Chivington that he could attack “that party”—the Arapaho who had been hanging around the post—but intentionally or not, Chivington did not go after that Arapaho band.
5 Henning to Anthony, October 17, 1864, OR 41, pt. 4, 62; Scott J. Anthony Papers, Colorado Historical Society.
6 “Sand Creek Massacre,” 27, 225-26; OR 41, pt. 1, 912-13.
7 Anthony to Helliwell, November 16, 1864, OR 41, pt. 1, 914; “Sand Creek Massacre,” 105; “Massacre of Cheyenne Indians,” 19-20, 28.
8 “Sand Creek Massacre,” 92; Wynkoop, Tall Chief, 100.
9 Michno, Battle at Sand Creek, 188-89; Michno, Encyclopedia of Indian Wars, 153-56.
10 “The Chivington Massacre,” 91.
11 “Sand Creek Massacre,” 24, 63; Sand Creek Massacre Project, Volume I: Site Location Study (Denver, CO, 2000), 213-14.
12 “Sand Creek Massacre,” 27-28, 134-35, 141; “Massacre of Cheyenne Indians,” 5, 21, 87, 93.
13 David Lavender, Bent’s Fort (Lincoln, NE, 1972), 374, 383; “Sand Creek Massacre,” 51, 107.
14 “Chivington Massacre,” 27-28; “Sand Creek Massacre,” 10, 24.
15 “Chivington Massacre,” 67; “Sand Creek Massacre,” 46, 165; Howbert, Indians of Pike’s Peak, 99. Historians have consistently misstated this order, saying that the penalty for leaving the post was death.
16 “Sand Creek Massacre,” 208, 212.
17 “Massacre of Cheyenne Indians,” 29.
18 Anthony to Helliwell, November 28, 1864, OR 41, pt. 4, 708; “Sand Creek Massacre,” 13, 21, 25; Gary L. Roberts and David Fridtjof Halaas, “Written in Blood The Soule-Cramer Sand Creek Massacre Letters,” Colorado Heritage (Winter 2001), 25.
19 “Sand Creek Massacre,” 62.
20 “Massacre of Cheyenne Indians,” 104-05; “Sand Creek Massacre,” 47, 156, 178, 180; U.S. Congress, Senate, “Chivington Massacre,” 74.
21 Michno, Battle at Sand Creek, 198-200.