Nelson Miles later claimed that he did not want the Arizona command, yet he must have secretly welcomed a chance to succeed where Crook had failed. The telegram that Miles received from Sheridan at Fort Leavenworth on April 3, 1886, directed him to proceed at once to Arizona and supplant Crook. It also “suggested” that he make “active and prominent use” of regular troops: sideline the scouts and make the blue uniforms more visible. Miles did that as soon as he took command, discharging some of the scouts and keeping the others out of sight.23
Miles used the Southern Pacific Railroad to carry his headquarters from one Arizona town to another. Before he could conceive a strategy, some of his cavalry, acting on their own initiative, achieved three successes south of the border. Miles’s strategy then unfolded. Captain Henry W. Lawton would lead a light column of infantry and cavalry with a contingent of Apache scouts (none Chiricahua) into Mexico and try to bring the enemy to bay. Lawton got under way from Fort Huachuca on May 4, 1886.24
Lawton’s command marched 120 miles deep into Sonora. Hardships pushed his troops to the limit of endurance. Rugged deserts, mountains, canyons, and ridges combined with intense heat, humidity, and rain to break down men and animals. On July 13 the troops descended a trail into a canyon, where scouts had discovered Geronimo’s camp. They charged into the camp only to discover that their trail had been spotted, alerting the Apaches in time for them to escape.25
While Lawton toiled for a month in Mexico, Miles conceived two other strategies. One concerned the peaceful Chiricahuas tilling the soil at Fort Apache. He wanted all the Chiricahuas, not just Geronimo’s people, moved out of Arizona altogether. On June 7 he proposed to Sheridan that the Chiricahuas at Fort Apache be relocated in the Indian Territory. But that could not be accomplished until Congress lifted a prohibition on Apaches in the Indian Territory that it had already enacted. Sheridan vetoed the plan, but Miles did not forget it.26
Miles had another strategy aimed at Geronimo and his followers. He had heard nothing from Lawton and worried that his regulars might not accomplish all that Sheridan desired. The solution was a return to Crook’s methods, although not so conspicuously as to overshadow Lawton’s troops. At Fort Apache Miles found two Chiricahuas, Kayitah and Martine, who had family with Geronimo’s people and believed that they could approach them without being shot. Miles enlisted them as scouts and directed Lieutenant Charles B. Gatewood, the one officer that the Apaches trusted implicitly, to escort them into Mexico. Gatewood’s mission was to find Lawton, then find Geronimo and try to persuade him to surrender.27
In July Miles revived his plan to move the reservation Chiricahuas to the Indian Territory but encountered the same obstacles. That did not stop him from arguing. Finally, on August 26, President Cleveland stopped the arguments. He directed that those Apaches be loaded on trains and moved to Fort Marion, Florida.
In Mexico Lieutenant Gatewood encountered a Captain Lawton who was hostile to the idea of any talk; he intended to attack Geronimo if he could be found. Gatewood was sick, Lawton and his command verged on breakdown, and the formidable mountains and canyons almost paralyzed operations. After many adventures (including one skirmish), however, Gatewood’s party made contact with the elusive Chiricahua on August 25.
For two days the two sides camped near each other as Gatewood and Geronimo parleyed for hour after hour. Gatewood stated Miles’s terms. Geronimo must surrender and go with his people to Florida, where the Chiricahuas who had surrendered to Crook had already been settled at old Fort Marion. Once there they would await the decision of President Grover Cleveland on their fate. Geronimo’s only response was a demand to return him to the Fort Apache reservation or fight. Gatewood then informed Geronimo that all the Chiricahuas at Fort Apache had now been moved to Florida. The only Indians left there were enemies of the Chiricahuas.
Geronimo’s only concession was to move north of the boundary and talk with General Miles. He and his people would travel separately and keep their arms. If Geronimo thought that the general could be trusted, perhaps they could work out a solution. The difficulty was that General Miles was distracted by transporting the reservation Chiricahuas to Florida and did not want to talk to Geronimo. He wanted Captain Lawton to handle the surrender.
Captain Lawton well knew that he could not handle the surrender. In Geronimo’s state of mind, even Miles might fail. If they wanted surrender instead of fighting, Miles had to make it happen. Throughout the campaign Miles had kept his distance from his field commanders, leaving them to carry out his strategy. That was perhaps acceptable to this point, but now he failed to grasp the urgency of his personal intervention. Lawton pleaded but was rebuffed.28
On September 2 the Apaches and soldiers, traveling separately, reached Skeleton Canyon, opening west into Arizona’s San Simon Valley. This was the appointed place for meeting General Miles, although whether he would come was still in doubt. Geronimo arranged his warriors on a plateau overlooking the canyon’s mouth, prepared to fight if necessary. On September 3 the general at last arrived, and the meeting of the two war chiefs took place. Miles’s terms were the same as those presented by Lieutenant Gatewood: go to Florida and await the decision of the president. Miles, however, went to elaborate lengths to demonstrate to Geronimo the terms of surrender, arranging rocks on the ground to represent Geronimo, the Fort Apache Chiricahuas, and Fort Marion, Florida. Geronimo liked what he saw in Miles: a general who did not “talk ugly” like General Crook. He surrendered.29
Miles shipped his prisoners by rail to Florida. The president had decreed that all Chiricahuas be settled in the East. Here they fell under War Department control, which meant that every Chiricahua was a prisoner of war, even all the Apache scouts who had served the U.S. Army, including Kayitah and Martine. Geronimo had believed that General Miles would take care of his people, but Miles was in the West, busy proclaiming the glory of his subjugation of Geronimo.
Controversy spoiled much of the glory, which was mostly local in any event. Miles had manipulated the surrender in such fashion as to anger President Cleveland, who wanted Geronimo’s Chiricahuas tried in the civil courts, a dreadful idea. Instead Miles pursued his first priority: to get the Apaches out of Arizona. In that he succeeded, but he had a lot of explaining to do, which he prolonged by his skill in dissembling. Offsetting some of the official displeasure, however, the citizens of Tucson presented him a ceremonial sword in gratitude for ridding Arizona of the Apache menace.
Largely unnoticed outside the military hierarchy, contention afflicted the officers involved. Miles’s superior, division commander Oliver O. Howard, complained that Miles had often ignored him and treated directly with General Sheridan. This was partly true and doubtless aggravated by the lingering dispute between them over the Nez Perce surrender. Also, Miles never admitted that he had succeeded by employing Crook’s methods. Instead, relegating Lieutenant Gatewood to obscurity, he gave full credit to Captain Lawton and the regulars. His duplicity stoked the rivalry between the Crook and Miles factions, which continued as Crook interested himself in the fate of the Chiricahuas in Florida.
Nelson Miles’s conduct of the Geronimo campaign was not his finest hour. His chain of victories as a colonel of infantry on the Yellowstone in 1876–79 shone more brightly. In Arizona he was eager to overshadow Crook and please Sheridan by making conspicuous use of regulars rather than Apache scouts. If the transport to Florida of the Fort Apache Chiricahuas was necessary for success, as it probably was despite its cruelty and injustice, Miles may be credited with making it happen. Beyond that, his turn to Apache scouts as the means to victory was a wise decision, even though he seems not to have recognized any incongruity in adopting Crook’s method. Moreover, he was remarkably obtuse in failing to perceive the necessity of a personal meeting with Geronimo, ultimately the key to success. Finally, although it revealed some of his worst traits, his maneuvering to get the Chiricahuas out of Arizona was justified. Miles’s Arizona command may therefore be judged a mixed success.
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br /> DIVISION OF THE PACIFIC
The death of General Sheridan in 1888 and the retirement of General Terry led to a shakeup in the top command. Major General Howard transferred to the prestigious Division of the Atlantic, which opened the Division of the Pacific. Although still a brigadier, Nelson Miles received the post in 1888. Both in Arizona and in San Francisco he kept himself in the public spotlight and cultivated influential friends. He lobbied intensely: for reviving the grade of lieutenant general, for gaining his second star, for reconfiguring military geography to support new major generals, and for other military reforms that he judged would advance his fortunes. But Geronimo’s shadow continued to plague Miles.
The declining health of the Chiricahuas, now located in humid Alabama, animated the Indian reform movement and revived the festering issue of relocating them to a more healthful environment. Both Miles and Crook went east to promote their views. Crook favored moving them to Fort Sill in the Indian Territory. Miles opposed this vehemently. Although the Indian Territory had been Miles’s idea, he now reversed his opinion. Both Crook and Miles (and their minions) brought the Crook-Miles feud to its highest point. The death of General Crook early in 1890 interrupted the feud and the outcome of the issue. Ironically, Miles won the major general’s vacancy created by Crook’s death and also Crook’s command of the Division of the Missouri. Delighted, Miles moved his family from San Francisco to Chicago.
DIVISION OF THE MISSOURI
When Miles took command of the division in the spring of 1890, the Ghost Dance religion was already sweeping the western tribes. Through prescribed dances, participants could “die” and visit the other world, see their ancestors, and glimpse the idyllic life that awaited them. Essentially a peaceful religion, it began to edge toward violence on the Sioux reservations of North and South Dakota. The reservations lay within the Department of Dakota, commanded by Brigadier General Thomas H. Ruger from St. Paul, Minnesota. They were more accessible, however, from the railroad stretching west across Nebraska. That lay in the Department of the Platte, commanded by Brigadier General John R. Brooke from Omaha.
In late October 1890 Miles visited Pine Ridge Agency and talked with the Sioux chiefs. One defiantly told him that they would dance as long as they pleased. Even so, Miles concluded that the furor would die out. Indian agent Daniel F. Royer did not agree. A timid little political appointee, Royer was scared. He wanted troops to occupy the reservation.30
White ranchers and farmers surrounding the reservation also wanted that. As word of the temper of the Sioux spread rapidly, settlers abandoned their homes, newspapers stoked public interest, and Washington took alarm. When agent Royer made a breathless appeal for soldiers on November 15, Washington responded. Miles had his orders and conveyed his own orders to Brooke and Ruger.
General Brooke personally led a large column into Pine Ridge Agency on November 20. At the same time, another column arrived at the Rosebud Agency. Brooke’s mission was not to fight but to protect government personnel and property and make every effort to avoid a fight. Miles remained in his Chicago headquarters, funneling fresh troops into Brooke’s command and repeatedly sending cables instructing him never to let his soldiers get mixed up with Indians.
Miles’s next move turned out to be a blunder, as he should have foreseen. He regarded Sitting Bull as the brightest spark fueling the Ghost Dance (which he was not) and believed that his arrest would help extinguish the fire. Standing Rock agent James McLaughlin, however, was a strong agent, closely allied with the post commander at Fort Yates, Lieutenant Colonel William F. Drum. They believed that Indian police should undertake the task of arresting Sitting Bull. Miles did not trust either McLaughlin or Drum.
At a banquet in Chicago on November 20, Miles ran into William F. “Buffalo Bill” Cody. They had campaigned against Sitting Bull in 1876, and for one season Cody had displayed Sitting Bull as a feature of his famous Wild West show. He and Sitting Bull were friends, the showman declared, and he could arrest the old Sioux chief if given official orders. Miles issued the orders and on the back of his calling card wrote instructions for all army officers to provide Cody with any assistance he needed. On November 27, still garbed in his tuxedo, Buffalo Bill and three of his publicists showed up at Fort Yates. Aware of the consequences if Cody attempted to extract Sitting Bull from his village of Ghost Dancers, McLaughlin and Drum conspired to prevent it. At the officers’ club at Fort Yates, the officers staged an all-night drinking party, which they thought would send the old scout to bed. The next morning, however, none the worse for the alcohol-fueled night, Cody prepared to ride to Sitting Bull’s home. With the aid of McLaughlin’s schoolteacher at the Sitting Bull camp, Cody was tricked into believing that the chief had gone into the agency on another road. Returning to Standing Rock, Cody was shown a telegram withdrawing Miles’s order. McLaughlin’s protest had led through two cabinet secretaries to the Executive Mansion and a directive from President Benjamin Harrison canceling Miles’s order. Buffalo Bill left Standing Rock and submitted his bill for expenses to General Miles.
Although unable to discover how Cody was deceived, Miles nonetheless conveyed to General Ruger his displeasure with Colonel Drum. He then turned to waging a loud campaign to place the Sioux entirely under military control. Journeying to Washington to promote this scheme, he gave the press declarations of alarm at the probability of an Indian war—at a time when General Brooke was striving to bring about a peaceful resolution of the crisis. Miles partially achieved his objective. The secretary of the interior decreed that the Sioux agents must cooperate with and obey the local post commander in all military operations.
On December 6, 1890, Brooke met with a delegation of chiefs from the remote camps to which they had fled when the soldiers came. The chiefs voiced their grievances at length, but Brooke encouraged them to return to their homes, after which grievances could be discussed. If they would come, Brooke would supply them with food. He wired Miles, predicting that the council would end the troubles. In return Miles reprimanded Brooke for even listening to grievances. Instead he should have demanded that the Indians obey his orders and put off grievances until later. Press dispatches reinforced Miles’s dissatisfaction, and he again cabled Brooke that the newspaper accounts seemed to convey that the general was not in full control. Miles again repeated his admonition not to let troops get mixed up with Indians and said that applied to generals too.
With his officers now in control of the agencies, Miles expected Colonel Drum at Fort Yates to arrest Sitting Bull. Agent McLaughlin wanted to wait until winter weather became severe, then use his Indian police to make the arrest. Drum agreed. The police would arrest Sitting Bull while Drum’s soldiers stood by in case of trouble. General Ruger also agreed, but on December 10 he received a telegram from Miles ordering him to direct Colonel Drum to arrest Sitting Bull and reminding him that the agent now fell under Drum’s authority. Drum and McLaughlin made their move on December 15, pursuing their agreed-upon plan. Miles would not have approved; cavalry dashing into the camp would have held more appeal.
The Indian police took on more than they could handle. Sitting Bull’s followers gathered around his cabin and blocked the exit of the police. One of the mob fired his Winchester and struck a policeman, who in falling shot and killed Sitting Bull. Drum’s cavalry dashed into the camp and after a brief skirmish ended the conflict.
To oversee operations more closely, Miles boarded a train and transferred his headquarters to Rapid City, South Dakota, on the eastern fringe of the Black Hills, where he could watch General Brooke more closely. In fact, without relieving Brooke, Miles assumed command over the entire zone of turbulence.
Big Foot was another name on Miles’s list of chiefs to be arrested. Miles had a squadron of cavalry watching Big Foot’s camp. But the chief slipped away from his overseer, Lieutenant Colonel Edwin V. Sumner, and led his people south toward Pine Ridge Agency, where the chiefs had asked him to come help make peace. As troops fanned out over the reserv
ation looking for Big Foot, Colonel Sumner endured Miles’s fury, which featured the threat of a court of inquiry. A squadron of the Seventh Cavalry finally intercepted Big Foot and his people and led them to camp in the valley of Wounded Knee Creek. From his Pine Ridge headquarters General Brooke dispatched the rest of the Seventh Cavalry to Wounded Knee. Colonel James W. Forsyth bore instructions from Brooke, backed by Miles, to disarm the Indians and move them to the railroad for transport to Omaha.
On December 29, 1890, the disarmament process erupted into the terrible tragedy of Wounded Knee. Neither side expected a fight, but taking a warrior’s rifle away from him had always been a delicate undertaking. A chanting medicine man precipitated the firing, and when it ended 25 soldiers and at least 153 Sioux men, women, and children lay dead; 44 wounded Indians and 39 wounded soldiers completed the tally. The army called Wounded Knee a battle, while the Indians called it a massacre. History has settled on the word “massacre.”31
General Miles did not regard Wounded Knee as a victory. He did not use the word “massacre,” but it came close to his opinion. More immediately, he regarded Wounded Knee as a blunder by Colonel Forsyth. On January 4, 1891, six days after Wounded Knee, “by direction of the President,” he relieved Forsyth from command of the Seventh Cavalry and ordered a court of inquiry to examine whether the regiment had been so disposed as to fire into its own ranks and whether women and children had been killed.32 The president had directed no such course. He had merely directed that Miles ascertain whether women and children had been killed.
Even so, Miles proceeded with his plan. His court consisted of three officers, one of whom was in the field and could not serve. The other two were members of Miles’s staff, Major J. Ford Kent, and the ever-loyal Captain Frank D. Baldwin. They could be expected to reach a verdict pleasing to their commander. But they didn’t. After exhaustive testimony by officers of the Seventh Cavalry, during which Miles tried to influence the minds of the two officers, they cleared Forsyth on both counts: his troop dispositions were not faulty, and every effort had been made during the fight to spare noncombatants. Miles refused to accept their conclusions. He ordered them to convene once more and reconsider their opinion. This time the officers bent to their chief’s will and submitted a harsher assessment of Forsyth. Miles forwarded this document to Washington with his own lengthy indictment of Forsyth.
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