Killing Crazy Horse

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by Bill O'Reilly


  President James Monroe will leave office in 1825. He will be virtually penniless after a lifetime of public service and forced to live with his daughter until his death in 1831. Monroe’s presidency will be overshadowed by those of the four great men before him—Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and James Madison—and the two ideological warriors immediately afterward: John Quincy Adams and Andrew Jackson.

  Monroe’s message, dated December 2, 1823, will be scarcely noted by Europe’s great powers, and in time it will almost be forgotten.

  But out of that address will come the “Monroe Doctrine,” as it will be labeled in 1850. That doctrine will shape America for centuries to come.

  The sea-to-shining-sea vision is easily described on paper. But to make that policy a reality will not be easy. For the next sixty years, torrents of blood will be shed. And America’s legacy will endure controversy forever.

  Chapter Four

  APRIL 21, 1832

  RICHLAND, ILLINOIS

  NOON

  Abraham Lincoln waits for destiny.

  Twenty-three and unemployed, the lanky former store clerk and flatboat operator stands next to his rival. Both Lincoln and wealthy sawmill owner William Kirkpatrick have answered the call to war. Sauk Indians under the command of a chief named Blackhawk are said to be on the rampage. Forced by the U.S. government to relocate from their homeland in central Illinois, Blackhawk and his eight hundred warriors have now returned to claim their land.

  The Sauk were once a prosperous tribe, farming the fertile Illinois soil in the summer and traveling south to hunt in the winter. The Indians mined the ground for lead, which they smelted and sold to traders for a profit. But as settlers like Abraham Lincoln moved into the lands the Sauk have occupied for centuries, conflict began.

  Illinois governor John Reynolds is calling for the state’s volunteer militia to take up arms against the Indians. The tall, self-important career politician who prefers the nickname “Old Ranger,” earned as a private during the War of 1812, knows that few issues will galvanize his electorate more than taking a strong stand against the Indian population. In addition to the Sauk, other tribes such as the Fox, Winnebago, and Potawatomi call Illinois home. Like most white residents, Governor Reynolds wants all Indians banished from the state forever.

  Yet the militia is the reason conflict exists in the first place. One year ago, Blackhawk and his warriors made a similar warlike move. Public fears of an uprising were rampant. The U.S. Army scrambled six infantry companies up the Mississippi River from St. Louis to quell the unrest.1 In reality, Blackhawk had no intention of waging war. He wants to make peace with the soldiers. However, the presence of the unruly militia among the more disciplined regulars unsettled the Indians. Blackhawk feared his entire tribe would be massacred once the U.S. Army returned to St. Louis. Rather than surrender, the Sauk temporarily fled to safety west of the Mississippi.

  Now Blackhawk and his men have returned. No violence has yet occurred, but Governor Reynolds has once again put out the call for men to fight the Indians. Abe Lincoln and sixty-seven other local volunteers immediately signed up and have just been sworn in as soldiers. In all, twenty-one hundred men throughout the state will volunteer for a thirty-day enlistment. These amateurs will be placed under the command of the U.S. Army.

  However, at the insistence of the vainglorious Governor Reynolds, two volunteer battalions will remain under his command.

  This will become a disaster.

  Most men standing on the village green here in Richland are filthy and unshaven, preferring dark calico garments that hide their grimy appearances. They see themselves as frontiersmen, comfortable with the hardships of wilderness living. These are exactly the sorts of violent men Blackhawk fears. The new volunteers are hard individuals; many drink heavily and are illiterate. They are not the sort to take orders from anyone. Yet militia policy stipulates that these men must elect officers who will lead them.

  There are two candidates to lead: lumber magnate William Kirkpatrick and the inexperienced Abe Lincoln, who was thrust into the election because a number of the militiamen remember the epic wrestling match six months ago between Lincoln and a hulking giant named Jack Armstrong. The bout was a draw, but the thin and deceptively strong Lincoln fought with such determination that he earned their lasting admiration. So rather than let Kirkpatrick run unopposed, “Honest Abe” Lincoln is nominated.2

  The voting process is simple: Kirkpatrick and Lincoln stand alone on the village green. Each volunteer lines up behind the candidate of their choice. The man with the longest line will become captain.

  Lincoln was at first reluctant to run. His temperament is not at all like most of the other volunteers’, and it is unclear if he is cut out to be a leader. In 1831, shortly after moving to New Salem from Indiana, Lincoln morosely described himself as a “friendless, penniless, uneducated boy, working on a flatboat for ten dollars a month.”

  All that has changed. Though prone to bouts of dark depression, Honest Abe is also warmhearted, makes friends easily, and is known for his sharp intellect. While he is enthralled by the idea of holding elected public office, his first foray into politics did not go well. Just last month, in March 1832, Lincoln ran for the Illinois state legislature. His candidacy was derailed by his awkward public speaking style and the fact that his employer’s business had just gone bust. Making matters worse, Denton Offutt’s store was more than just a source of employment to Abe Lincoln; it was his home. He and fellow employee William C. Greene, who also volunteered to join the militia, slept on a single cot in the store. Abraham Lincoln isn’t volunteering to fight Indians out of a sense of public duty but because he needs money and a roof over his head.

  He won’t get much. For his six-month enlistment, Abraham Lincoln will be given forty acres of land.

  As Lincoln stands on the common next to William Kirkpatrick, he is amazed to see man after man lining up behind him. Even those who originally supported the sawmill owner are changing their minds and stepping over to Lincoln’s line.

  Almost thirty years from now, Abraham Lincoln will look back on this moment and recall it as “a success which gave me more pleasure than I have had since.”

  Right now, however, Abraham Lincoln’s emotions are not so easily contained.

  “I’ll be damned, Bill,” Lincoln exclaims to William C. Greene as it becomes clear he has won his first election. “I’ve beat him.”

  * * *

  Chief Blackhawk is not so easily defeated. It is the afternoon of May 14, 1832—three weeks after Abraham Lincoln enlisted in the militia. The sixty-five-year-old Blackhawk and his tribe of one thousand men, women, and children are camped on the banks of a place called Sycamore Creek. The land is flat, dotted by creeks and thick forests. The youngest Sauk warriors are currently miles away, hunting for game. Blackhawk himself is eating a meal of dog when one of his advance scouts gallops into camp to report that a group of white men on horseback are approaching.

  “I immediately started young men with a white flag to meet them, and conduct them to our camp that we hold council with them,” Blackhawk will later remember. He has just forty warriors in camp at the moment and is in no position to fight an enemy force.3

  Despite white fears, Blackhawk did not return to Illinois to wage war. Instead, the Sauk believe they might once again find a place to call home. The population of white settlers has increased from 40,000 in 1818, when Illinois became the twenty-first state, to more than 250,000 today. A land so vast and wild surely has enough room for Indians and settlers alike. However, Blackhawk has been unable to find food or refuge for his people, who are now starving. Even as the scout returns with news of an approaching militia, Blackhawk has already made the sad choice to leave Illinois. The chief is determined to once again cross back over the Mississippi—this time for good. The Sauks have committed no hostile acts during their foray, and the abundance of dependents in camp makes it clear this is not a war party.

  After sending off the thre
e warriors bearing a flag of truce, Blackhawk orders five others to trail behind and observe the proceedings from a distance.

  Meanwhile, the two rogue battalions of Illinois militia that remain under the command of Governor John Reynolds are making camp in a swampy wooded valley known as Old Man’s Creek. Though the governor is not currently traveling with his army, these 275 men are under orders to kill on sight as many hostile Indians as they can.

  The earth is muddy from the previous day’s rains. The volunteers long ago filled their canteens with whiskey. Unruly and undisciplined, prone to firing their rifles for fun during moments of drunkenness, they immediately start shooting at the sight of the approaching Indians, taking prisoner all three warriors bearing the white flag.

  Twenty more mounted militia attempt to capture the five observers. Gunshots are exchanged. Subsequent depictions of the fighting offer differing views. But there is no denying that one, if not two, Indians drop from their horses, dead. The others turn quickly and ride hard for Sycamore Creek, covering the seven miles at a full gallop with the militia right behind.

  The Sauk warriors arrive, bringing news of their dead. Dusk is falling.

  Chief Blackhawk has had enough. It is a basic tenet of Sauk custom to seek clan revenge on anyone who harms his people. This belief, along with years of degradation, lies, and theft of tribal land by white settlers, has led to this point of no return.

  “Some of our people have been killed,” the chief cries out. “We must revenge their death.”

  The few Sauk warriors remaining in camp mount their horses. Knowing it is a suicide charge, they ride straight into the oncoming militia. To their great surprise, the white men turn and flee in terror. “The enemy retreated,” Blackhawk will long remember, “in the utmost confusion and consternation before my little but brave band of warriors.”

  A plaster model of Abraham Lincoln by sculptor Charles Keck. The photograph was given to Frederick Hill Meserve in 1951.

  As night falls, the Sauk press their advantage. With their women and children at great risk from a militia reprisal, they launch a preemptive attack on the encampment at Old Man’s Creek. Greatly outnumbered, fighting in pitch-dark conditions, the stealthy Indians quickly spread terror. For although the white volunteers consider themselves superior outdoorsmen, their skills hardly compare with those of Blackhawk’s warriors.

  “As if by magic, each tree and stump appeared to send forth a band of savages,” Illinois volunteer James Stephenson will later recount. “The swampy ground, the surprise, the retreat of the whites, threw everything into confusion.”

  Twelve militia soldiers are immediately killed. The rest run for their lives. The volunteers desert the battlefield so fast that the fight will come to be known as “Stillman’s Run,” in a humiliating depiction of militia commander Major Isaiah Stillman’s personal flight.

  The corpses of the dead militia bear the brunt of the humiliating rout. Heads are cut off. Tongues are sliced away. Legs, arms, and even hearts are chopped from bodies. The entire camp is looted.

  Abraham Lincoln is among the soldiers who will arrive within days to bury the dead. Surveying the scene, he will later write of what he saw: “The red light of the morning sun was streaming upon them as they lay head towards us on the ground. And every man had a round red spot on top of his head, about as big as a dollar where the redskins had taken his scalp. It was frightful, but it was grotesque, and the red sunlight seemed to paint everything all over.”

  * * *

  Vengeance can be a two-way street, and now it is Blackhawk’s turn to run. He guides his band northeast, away from Illinois. He leaves panic and confusion in his wake, for the militia have lost their will to fight and are deserting en masse. Indian tribes throughout the region are deeply inspired by Blackhawk’s victory, leading to gruesome uprisings. Settlers and militia alike are murdered, their bodies mutilated beyond identification. On May 19, militia volunteer William Durley is shot from his horse. The bullet enters his groin, slicing open his femoral artery and killing him before he hits the ground. His corpse is later discovered with his nose cut off and head nearly sliced from his body.

  A group of travelers bury Durley’s body in a shallow grave, only to find themselves surrounded by thirty Indians. Just three settlers manage to escape. The others are killed, later discovered in a field of tall grass with their hands and feet cut off.

  At a place called Big Indian Creek, the home of settler William Davis is surrounded by seventy Indians. The house is filled with friends and neighbors who have come to the Davis residence seeking protection, hoping their large numbers will protect them from attack.

  They are wrong.

  A guest named William Pettigrew sees the approaching Indians through an open window and protectively lifts his infant daughter into his arms. He is instantly shot dead.

  Two teenage girls, Rachel and Sylvia Hall, try to run. The advancing warriors capture them and carry them back to the house, where the settlers are being slaughtered like cattle.

  Fifteen men, women, and children are butchered. Their screams for mercy are ignored. Blood spatters the walls and puddles on the wooden floor of the Davis home. Everyone, even William Pettigrew’s infant child, is scalped. The women are hung upside down by their feet and sexually assaulted before their limbs, breasts, and heads are hacked from their bodies. No corpse, man or woman, is left intact.

  Only Rachel and Sylvia will live to tell the story. After witnessing the horror, they are kidnapped and taken back to Blackhawk’s camp.

  However, the massacre is not Blackhawk’s doing, and he orders both young women released. In reality, it is the Potawatomi tribe who carry out the brutal attack on the Davis household to permanently settle a long-lasting dispute. But Blackhawk is assumed to be responsible. The collective Native American fury in the face of an advancing America is embodied in the viciousness of their attacks. It is now Blackhawk who becomes the public face of that horror.

  Blackhawk’s War skirmish marker on the Black Hawk Trail to Bad Axe, Wisconsin

  Thus the name: “Blackhawk’s War.”

  By June, that title becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Blackhawk stops running. He now chooses to fight, sending his warriors on raids that result in the massacre and scalping of settlers and soldiers. Whites flee the frontier in terror, overwhelming the city of Chicago in their search for safe refuge. Governor Reynolds’s militia hunts in vain for the elusive chief, but Blackhawk’s ability to attack makes a fool of the self-important politician.

  In Washington, President Andrew Jackson has had enough. He authorizes a new armed force under War of 1812 hero General Winfield Scott to crush the Indians.

  When it comes to Indians, Old Hickory is once again determined to have the final say.

  * * *

  Soon it is over.

  The U.S. military arrives in Illinois with cannon, a weapon the Indians cannot defend against. Blackhawk’s tribe begins to die at an alarming rate. In just two days of fighting in early August at the Battle of Bad Axe, an estimated five hundred Sauk men, women, and children are slaughtered—many after trying to surrender. Making matters worse, the Dakota Sioux have crossed the Mississippi to join the fight against Blackhawk, taking sixty-eight scalps from the fleeing Sauk. Blackhawk himself narrowly escapes death by retreating alone from the battlefield in disgrace, even as the fighting continues.4

  Just five U.S. soldiers are killed in that same engagement.

  On August 27, 1832, the chief surrenders and is taken into American custody. His head is clean-shaven, save for a single lock of graying hair, as he is placed in chains. The remaining members of his tribe are allowed to cross the Mississippi to find a new home.5

  * * *

  To impress upon the five foot five Sauk chief that rebellion against the United States is futile, authorities take Blackhawk to the great cities of Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York City, in order that he might see for himself the enormity of America’s power.

  To his gre
at surprise, Blackhawk is greeted by large crowds wherever he goes, eager to witness the defeated chief in person. Yet it is not because Blackhawk fought for his people, but because he exemplifies what academics and intellectual society are now calling “the noble savage.” This, of course, insults the proud warrior. And just as that moniker trivializes his very existence and the reasons he sought a homeland for his people, the ease with which the U.S. government put an end to his dream shows that resistance to an expanding America is futile.

  Blackhawk’s most important stop is Washington, D.C. There he meets face-to-face with President Andrew Jackson, the man who signed the Indian Removal Act of 1830. This law allowed the forceful relocation of tribes to lands west of the Mississippi. Both men are the same age—sixty-five—but Old Hickory towers over the diminutive chief. When Blackhawk attempts to explain why he went to war, Jackson shows little interest. He merely wanted to see the infamous Chief Blackhawk in person. Jackson is certain the little man is no threat to America.

  The meeting is over within minutes.

  * * *

  The United States was so certain of victory over Blackhawk that men like Abraham Lincoln were actually mustered out of military service a full month before the war ended. Lincoln never fought in battle nor fired a single round at the enemy, but Blackhawk’s War is the making of him. The friends, connections, and even leadership skills gained during his short time as a soldier will propel him to public office and, eventually, the presidency.

  In time, Abraham Lincoln will stand before Congress and reflect upon Blackhawk’s War as nothing more than a minor skirmish.

 

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