Killing Crazy Horse

by Bill O'Reilly

  “He may have been given to me for some valuable purpose,” Jackson will write to Rachel about adopting Lyncoya. “In fact, when I reflect that he as to his relations is so much like myself I feel an unusual sympathy for him.”

  In memory of his beloved mother, Elizabeth, who successfully pleaded for her son’s release from a British prison during the Revolutionary War, then nursed the boy back to health after his near-death experience with smallpox, Andrew Jackson has a firm policy that his forces not “wage war on females.”

  Jackson, however, often makes this rule hard to follow.

  * * *

  After his victory at Tallushatchee, the general’s forces proceeded to the town of Talladega, Alabama. On November 9, 1813, Jackson ordered his troops to surround a Creek Indian settlement and slaughter its inhabitants. Two hundred and ninety-nine Creek Indians were killed, including women and children. Jackson lost fifteen American soldiers killed and eighty wounded.

  Since that time, the Creeks have been fighting back ferociously. The enlistments of many volunteers have come to an end. Jackson has spent much of the winter waiting for reinforcements and supplies. There have been skirmishes with the Creek, with both sides extracting casualties, but no major battles.

  Throughout these months, the name William Weatherford remained a cause of fear. The Creek chief appears to be everywhere and nowhere, launching attacks and disappearing just as mysteriously.

  By January 22, 1814, desertions and mutinies had whittled Jackson’s force to just two hundred men. In a remote and beautiful pine forest near Emuckfaw Creek, the general’s army came under attack just before dawn. The men had risen at 4:00 a.m. and were enjoying a breakfast of coffee, bread, and cold meat when the Creek force surprised them, screaming in high-pitched war whoops.

  “The enemy, yelling like demons, rushed on with great impetuity,” Lieutenant Richard Call wrote of that attack. “They came within range of the [fire]light, and some of them so near that when they fell under the steady aim of our cool brave men, they fell in our fires.”

  The Creek warriors were repulsed and fled. General John Coffee and his mounted cavalry quickly gave pursuit. Lieutenant Call borrowed a horse and joins them.

  “Approaching near their position, we halted,” Call wrote. “Our spies, being experienced woodsmen, advanced to take a recognizance [sic] of their camp. We had examined our flints and priming so that by daylight we were ready for a fight … when they returned it was to report that the enemy was fortified by a high log wall extending from one side of the Tallapoosa to the other.

  “Our men were anxious to make an attack,” the lieutenant added. “Coffee—cool, deliberate, and resolute—determined not to do so. He ordered myself … to return and report to General Jackson that he thought the fortification might be taken only with the united section of the whole army.”

  It would be two more months until that attack would take place. But as General John Coffee accurately predicted, both sides are in for a fight.

  * * *

  The Battle of Horseshoe Bend begins the morning of March 27, 1814. For the most part, the Creeks and Americans are equally armed, with both sides possessing accurate muskets and ammunition. But the Indians lack the advanced firepower of cannon, and as the bombardment begins, the general’s contingent from the U.S. Thirty-Ninth Regimental Infantry stands ready to begin their dangerous run across open ground to the fortress. This attack will not commence until Jackson’s three-pounder and six-pounder blast a hole in the wall.

  But the cannon are ineffective. Instead of destroying the log walls, the balls are either going straight through the soft wood or becoming embedded. And even as Jackson’s gun crews reload and take aim, the Creek are focusing their musket fire on the cannoneers. An hour passes. Then another. Women and children scream in terror as cannonballs miss the wall altogether and land in the camp. Still, the fortress is unscathed. In addition to their musket fire, the Creek yell to their enemy above the sounds of battle, taunting their impotence.6

  Cannon fire can be heard clearly by General John Coffee and his mounted men, poised along the banks of the Tallapoosa River with their Cherokee allies. They become eager as the time passes, determined to take part in the battle. The Cherokee finally snap into action. Spying Creek canoes concealed in bushes on the opposite shore, a small group attempts to cross the river. Despite the cold water and the powerful current, three Cherokee undertake the one-hundred-yard swim. Creek warriors on the bluff above open fire. One of the Cherokee, a man named Whale for his large size, is shot in the shoulder. But all three make it across, steal canoes, and paddle back to the other side. A system of ferrying men across the Tallapoosa now begins. Soon, more than one hundred of Andrew Jackson’s Indian allies are waging war against the Creek village.

  With American cannon firing from one side, and the Cherokee advancing on their village from the other, the Creek panic. Believing the wall to be impregnable, they turn their main force on the Cherokee.

  At 12:30 p.m., Andrew Jackson orders a drumroll. Ironically, just as at Fort Mims, this is the signal to attack. In the center of the column, men of the Thirty-Ninth form into straight lines. They wear dark-blue jackets, white shirts, gray pants, and black boots. Each man holds a musket, to which a sharp foot-long bayonet is attached. At the front of each line are their officers, distinguishable by the scarlet sash across their chests and gold epaulets on their shoulders. Instead of a musket, these men carry a sword.

  “I never had such emotions as when the long roll was beating,” writes soldier John Reid in a letter to his wife. “It was not fear, it was not anxiety nor concern of the fate of those who were so soon to fall but it was a kind of enthusiasm that thrilled through every nerve and animated me with the belief that the day was ours.”

  The Battle of Horseshoe Bend, also known as Tohopeka, Cholocco Litabixbee or the Horseshoe

  The frontal attack begins with a sprint. Running toward the wall, Jackson’s reinforced army of two thousand Americans race past the pine stumps. Many fall, killed instantly by Creek musket shots. But the rest push on, fearlessly, avoiding the sharpened branches projecting from the wall as they begin to scale up and over.

  Major Lemuel Montgomery of the Thirty-Ninth is the first man to climb the barricade. He is immediately shot in the head.

  Eventually, the regulars pour over the top, followed on the flanks by the Tennessee militia. In the hand-to-hand combat that ensues on the parapets, bayonets and rifle butts are swung by the Americans while the Creek wield tomahawks and their infamous war clubs. Hopelessly outnumbered, the Creek begin to fall back, sprinting for the perceived safety of their village, even though it is under intense attack from the other side by the Cherokee.

  Soon the Creek are overwhelmed.

  The massacre now begins.

  The Creek are completely trapped within their own fortress. With the river behind them secured by General Coffee’s cavalry and Jackson’s men blocking their way forward at the wall, the Indians are penned in for the slaughter. The killing goes on for hours.

  “The carnage was dreadful,” General Jackson will write to his wife, Rachel. “It was dark before we finished killing them.”

  Hundreds of women and children are taken prisoner.

  More than 850 Creek warriors lie dead as the battle comes to an end. The nose of each dead Indian is sliced from his head as a method of counting the fatalities. Some are scalped by the Cherokee to commemorate the victory. Gruesome as that might be, the volunteers from Tennessee are equally savage. Starting at the base of the heel, they use their knives to peel long strips of skin from the dead Creek to braid into bridle reins.

  As the dead are counted, Jackson is satisfied with his triumph. American casualties at the Battle of Horseshoe Bend number 47 killed and 159 wounded. Another 23 Native Americans fighting on the side of the U.S. Army are also killed. The Creek Indians suffer an astonishing 857 dead and 206 wounded.

  But General Jackson is all too aware that one man is missing.
/>
  There is no sign whatsoever of the infamous Chief William Weatherford.

  Until Red Eagle is captured, the Creek resistance lives on.

  * * *

  For the next three weeks, General Andrew Jackson rides through the South, searching for William Weatherford. Jackson institutes a new policy, demanding that the Creek nation hand over Weatherford for hanging if they want peace. No Weatherford, no relief.

  On April 18, 1814, a tall, bare-chested man wearing buckskin breeches rides through the Alabama countryside on a gray stallion. He spots a deer, shoots and guts the animal, then drapes it across his horse’s neck to carry with him. Food is hard to come by now that the U.S. Army has made the forests their own. A plump deer will make for many good meals.

  Reloading his musket, the warrior continues on his way, eventually riding into General Andrew Jackson’s encampment at a place called Fort Toulouse. He asks directions to Jackson’s personal tent. A soldier refuses to tell him, insulting the warrior in the process. An older gentleman standing nearby points the way.

  The the man on horseback is stately and serene. Soldiers and Indians walking through the camp stop and stare. Andrew Jackson himself steps from his tent.

  “I’m Bill Weatherford,” the man on the stallion says calmly.

  “How dare you, sir, ride up to my tent,” barks Jackson, “after having murdered the women and children at Fort Mims?”

  “I do not fear you, General Jackson. I have nothing to ask for myself. I come to ask peace for my people. I am in your power. Do to me as you please. I am a soldier, I have done the white people all the harm I could. I have fought them and fought them bravely. If I had an army I would fight you but my people are all gone. I can do no more than to weep over the misfortunes of my nation. Once I could animate my warriors to battle but I cannot animate the dead. My warriors can no longer hear my voice. Their bones are at Talladega, Emuckfaw, and Tohopeka. On the miseries and misfortunes brought upon my country I look back with deepest sorrow and wish to avert still greater Calamities. You are a brave man and I rely on your generosity. I ask for peace for my people, not for Weatherford.”7

  Andrew Jackson is so stunned by Red Eagle’s courage that he has no reply.

  A crowd gathers around. Chants of “Kill him, kill him, kill him” fill the area surrounding Jackson’s tent.

  With a single sharp look from the general, the crowd goes silent.

  “Any man who would kill a man as brave as that,” says Jackson, “would rob the dead.”

  Andrew Jackson invites William Weatherford to join him inside for a brandy. Stepping from his horse, Red Eagle throws his freshly killed deer over his shoulder and accepts the invitation. He presents the animal to Jackson as a peace offering.

  While inside, the two men talk peace between the Americans and the Indians.

  It is a peace that will be extremely short-lived.8

  Chapter Three

  DECEMBER 2, 1823

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  1:00 P.M.

  A sitting president of the United States is about to doom the American Indian.

  James Monroe’s Seventh Annual Message to Congress is ready for delivery. Finally. The precise wording of the document has consumed America’s fifth leader for months. Outside Monroe’s second-story office window here in the White House, workmen and slaves are preparing to erect a new addition to the building known as the South Portico. This will change the physical shape of the mansion in the same manner that Monroe is altering the physical landmass of the United States with the document he now holds in his hands.

  The weather outside is brutally cold. The sixty-five-year-old president is glad he doesn’t have to make the two-mile journey to the Capitol to deliver the annual message in person. Monroe is a polished man, standing six feet tall, slender in girth. He has a full head of wavy brown hair, now turning gray. The president is deeply idiosyncratic in his dress, still wearing the ruffled shirts and buckled shoes that fell out of fashion after the Revolutionary War. Monroe’s whole life has been devoted to public service, where he gained a foothold after serving in General George Washington’s revolutionary army at Trenton. In that battle, Monroe bravely returned to action after a musket shot severed an artery. Monroe continued showing his courage to Washington throughout the war, enduring a harsh winter at Valley Forge and making friends with the Marquis de Lafayette, the wealthy young Frenchman who so famously fought alongside the Americans. Just a year from now, early in 1825, Monroe will welcome Lafayette back to America to celebrate a half century of United States independence.

  James Monroe, 1817

  James Monroe is wed to a flamboyant woman named Elizabeth, who actually smokes a pipe. They have two married daughters. A third child, James Spence Monroe, died of unknown causes when he was just sixteen months old.

  Much like his mentor Thomas Jefferson, Monroe is a reserved man. He was raised in Virginia in affluence. Monroe knows he should deliver his annual address in person, but he resists doing that because, like Jefferson, he doesn’t much enjoy public speaking.

  The U.S. Constitution explicitly states that each president must periodically present a State of the Union address to Congress. George Washington, as America’s first chief executive, met this requirement by delivering a formal speech to a joint session of the Senate and House of Representatives. Washington titled it his “Annual Message to Congress.” John Adams, the nation’s second chief executive, did the same. But upon succeeding Adams, Thomas Jefferson balked. The idealistic Virginian was shy and a poor public speaker. Using the excuse that a presidential speech was too much like the British monarchy’s annual address to Parliament—and thus had no place in a democracy—Jefferson instead wrote his message by hand, then had the contents delivered to Congress to be read aloud.1

  Twenty-two years and two presidents later, that tradition continues. The Eighteenth Congress met for the first time just yesterday. Now the president will have his say.

  Monroe well understands that his message will be controversial all around the world. His vision favors what will become known as a “sea to shining sea” policy. That is, America will control all the lands between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, and no foreign power will intrude on U.S. policy governing that territory.

  However, the North American continent is still sparsely populated west of the Mississippi River, and European powers are setting their sights on colonizing some of this land.

  Monroe aims to stop that.

  Left unsaid is that much of that western territory does not belong to the United States. It is home to hundreds of Indian tribes who have inhabited the land for countless generations. Monroe does not address Native Americans in his remarks, but it is clear that by demanding European powers cease the colonization of the West, he is stating that only the United States will dictate how the land is used.

  President Monroe has a history of marginalizing Native Americans. Five years ago, he ordered General Andrew Jackson to quash Seminole Indian uprisings in Georgia and Florida. Jackson himself has become fantastically rich through speculative real estate deals, selling land gained from conquered Indian tribes. It is clear that James Monroe will continue these policies, and Andrew Jackson will play a major role.

  Throughout America, Jackson has risen to the status of a hero. In 1815, he defeated the British Army at the Battle of New Orleans, thus putting an emphatic end to the War of 1812. Jackson’s fame has become so great that some fear he will become an American Napoleon, a military leader so charismatic and invincible that he could possibly take over the entire country.

  But this does not concern James Monroe at all. Andrew Jackson is useful to him, and he keeps the general away from Washington by continually sending him off to fight. When Monroe ordered Jackson to Florida to administrate the land for Washington, it still belonged to Spain. The Madrid government was outraged but could do little about it. In the Adams-Onis Treaty of 1819, Spain ceded Florida to the United States outright because it could no longer defend
the territory from American intrusion.

  As badly as the Spanish fared after Jackson’s incursion, the Seminoles’ defeat was even worse. Jackson’s army ended the uprising by using overwhelming force, causing the Seminoles to completely give up all claims to land in Florida. Under the terms of the Treaty of Moultrie Creek, signed just three months ago in September 1823, the Indians are to be pushed out of their ancestral Florida homes to relocate to an area specified by the U.S. government. This turns out to be a small sliver of land in the center of Florida’s peninsula.

  Eventually, James Monroe and Andrew Jackson will forge a U.S. government philosophy dictating that the Seminoles, Creeks, and every single other Native American tribe are not sovereign nations and thus are not entitled to own land within the borders of the United States. It makes no difference that the Indians disagree.

  This policy of “Indian Removal” formally begins in 1825, when James Monroe bows to demands from the state of Georgia that Cherokee Indians be banished. The president requests a “well-digested plan” to remove certain Indian tribes from all tribes to a location west of the Mississippi River. After that, the dominoes begin to fall.

  * * *

  On this blustery December day, President Monroe’s brutal vision of imposing the sea-to-shining-sea policy clashes with his high-minded rhetoric. A young courier borrows a horse from the White House executive stables and rides alone through Washington to hand-deliver the thick packet of paper to the clerk of the House of Representatives, Matthew St. Clair Clarke, who will read it aloud to the House. The same duty will fall to New Hampshire’s Charles Cutts in the Senate.

  President Monroe is rightfully considered one of America’s few living Founding Fathers. As those who read his Seventh Annual Message will soon learn, the promise of this great nation is as vibrant to him now as it was five decades ago. It is also clear from his message that the expansion will come at the expense of the Indian tribes.