return to City of Denver, etc.
CHAPTER VI.
CESSATION OF HOSTILITIES -- RESCUE
OF THE PRISONERS.
WE come now to the most remrkable feature of the Ute campaign - the sudden
cessation of hostilities at the very moment ehen the power of administering
punishment to the Meeker and Thornburg murderers was in the hands of Gen.
Merritt in the north, and Gen. Hatch in the south. Nearly, if not quite, three
thousand Federal troops had been rushed into Colorado with wonderful celerity,
and were now distributed within striking distance of the fire. Officers and men
were alike burning to inflict severe and summary punishment upon the cut-throat
assassins who had not only made war upon the Government, but had characterized
their revolt by inhuman atrocities upon non-combatants at the Agency. Colorado,
as with one voice, demanded that the war which had been begun by the Utes
themselves should be continued until they cried "Enough!" Although Ouray
protested that his Indians were not implicated, it did not seem necessary, for
that reason, to spare those really and truly guilty. "Let the troops advance,"
and Gov. Pitkin, "and it will be easy to determine who are the hostile Indians.
Those who get in the way of the troops and show fight are the ones who ought to
be punished."
But the high and mighty Moguls of the Interior Department
evolved another scheme and put it into execution. They said, in effect:
"The troops must not advance upon the Indians. If they do,
some good Indian who did not fight at Milk River, not assist in the Agency
massacrem may be killed or wounded. The war is over anyhow, since Ouray ordered
the Utes to stop fighting Ouray says he will surrender the insurgents, and a
trial by a civil tribunal will cost much less than an Indian war. It is a pity
that Meeker and Thornburg were killed, but if we can find out who killed them,
through Ouray, we will do something terrible with the murderers -- perhaps send
them to prison."
Economically considered, perhaps, this wa sound doctrine, but
it grated terribly on the nerves of Coloradoans and the army. Gen. Sheridan
gave expression to his disgust in very vigorous English. Gov. Pitkin sent the
following ringing telegram to Secretary Schurz:
STATE OF COLORADO, EXECUTIVE
DEPARTMENT
DENVER, October 22, 1879.
Hon. Carl Schurz, Secretary of the
Interior:
Information from Southwestern Colorado satisfies me that many
of Ouray's warriors were in the Thornburg fight. To surrender the criminals,
Ouray must surrender his tribe, which he is powerless to do. They adhere to him
for protection only, and will not submit to punishment. Neither will they
surrender White River Utes, who are bound to them by the closest ties, and are
no more guilty than themselves. They whipped Thornburg's command, and now
Merritt retires. It cannot be disguised that the fighting men of the tribe are
hosteil and flushed with victory. They are savages. They take no prisoners,
except women. Their trophies are not banners, but scalps.
If the policy of military inactivity continues, our frontier
settlements are liable to become scenes of massacre. Unless the troops move
against the Indians, the Indians will move against the settlers. Must 300 miles
of border settlements be subjected to this peril? The General Government is
doing nothing to protect or defend our settlements. The State cannot defend all
this border except by attacking the enemy.
In behalf of our people, I represent the danger to you, and
urge that the Government recognize that a war with barbarians now exists which
involves the lives of numerous exposed mining settlements. It can be terminated
only by the most vigorous and uninterrupted warfare.
(Signed) FREDERICK W. PITKIN,
Governor.
The only effect of these and other remonstrances was to
secure the retention of troops in the State, whereby the Indians were held in
check and the hundred miles to the north, but Ouray was in constant
communication with the hostiles by means of Indian runners, who, indeed, had
been going and coming continually. All necessary arrangements were made,
including a strong Indian escort, and Adams started on the morning of the 19th
of October.
The escort consisted of Sapovanero Shavano, the young Chief
Colorow -- not the celebrated chieftain of that name -- and ten Indians. Count
Von Doenhoff, an attache of the German Legation at Washington; Capt. Cline, the
well-known frontiersman, and one of the Agency employes, accompanied Adams. The
party was under the surveillance of Indian runners from the time of leaving the
Agency until its return. These were sent out by Ouray, and reported to him from
day to day the progress of events. Ouray was not entirely confident of the
sucess of the mission, as it appeared, and if it failed, he wanted to know
exactly who was responsible for the failure. He had sent out the expedition
himself, and felt responsible, at least, for the safey of its members.
Not counting the German Count, the commission was admirably
organized. Gen. Adams was known to all the Indians of the tribe, and ot many of
them he was endeared by many acts of generosity and kindness which had won for
him among them the appellation of "Washington." Capt. Cline was even more
highly esteemed by the Indians. For years, he had been the only white man
living on the reservation. In another place, it was stated that the wagon road
leading to Ouray City crossed sixty or seventy miles of the reservation, and, of
course, a stage-station and stopping-place for teams was necessary on that part
of the road lying within the reservation. This station was kept by Capt. Cline,
by permission of the "lords of the soil," and they even went so far as to mark
out a considerable scope of country which Capt. Cline should have for his own
use and benefit. "Mother Cline," as the Captain's wife was universally known,
was also greatly respected by the Indians, and the worthy couple enjoyed, in the
fullest degree, the esteem and confidence of the whole tribe of Utes.
The expedition followed the ld Mormon road as far as it was
practicable, about forty miles beyond the Gunnison River. The wagons were then
left behind, and the party struck out on horseback. Their first camp was at the
Gunnison, whence Sapovanero sent out two runners to inform the hostiles of their
coming. The second night's camp was on Grand River, twenty miles distant from
the hostile camp, which was reached at 10 o'clock of the third day. At Grand
River, they were met by two envoys from the hostile camp -- Henry Jim, the White
River interpreter, and Cojoe, an Uncompahgre Indian. It is a curious fact that
the first hostile Indian who met Gen. Adams en route, and the first Indian he
saw in the camp of the hostiles, were Uncompahgres, though it has been long and
loudly denied that the Uncompahgre Utes had anything to do with the outbreak.
Just before reaching the hostile camp, the commission was met
by two other Indians, who informed Adams that he had been graciously permitted
to enter. Nothing was seen, however, of the captives at first, and it was soon
ascertained that they were in another camp, on Plateau Creek. Without waiting
for "permission" to proceed further, Gen. Adams and his party rode on to Plateau
Creek, and accidentally discovered Miss Josie Meeker, in spite of efforts to
secrete her. The other captives had been hidden away, and were not produced
until some hours later.
These hours were consumed in a "medicine talk," which lasted
five or six hours, and was very stormy. The young bucks wanted to kill the
commissioners, but were overruled by their elders. This part of the powwow
being conducted in classical Ute, without interpretation, Gen. Adams never knew,
until some time afterward, of the danger which menaced him. It was finally
resolved that the commssion should be suffered to depart, but without the white
women and children.
This arosed the ire of Sapovanero, who had been instructed by
Ouray to bring back the captives without fail, and who felt the importance of
his mission. He made a lengthy speech, in which he threatened the stubborn
chief with Ouray's sovereign displeasure if they did not obey his commands.
Although this speech made a decided impression, it was not immediately
conclusive. Chief Douglas desired that Adams should go to White River and have
the troops removed from there, promising to surrender the captives on his return
if he was successful. To this Adams demurred, but promised, if the prisoners
were at once surrendered and started south, that he would go on to White River
and use his influence with Merritt to prevent any advance -- an easy compromise,
as Merritt had no orders to advance.
This arrangement was eventually agreed to, and shortly the
captives were unconditionally surrendered, though with evident reluctance.
The joy of the poor prisoners knew no bounds when assurred that they were in
the hands of their friends once more -- friends indeed, although entire
strangers as far as previous acquaintance was concerned. They had been captives
twenty-two days, and had almost despaired of succor. Miss Meeker and Mrs. Price
had borne up wonderfully well under their privations and sufferings, but poor
Mrs. Meeker was nearly worn out by anxiety, suffering and exposure. The two
children of Mrs. Price had fared better than the elders, and were enjoying
tolerably vigorous health.
Gen. Adams at once departed, with an Indian esort, for Gen. Merritt's
headquarters, communicated to him the facts above recited, and returned to the
Southern Agency, via the hostile camp, and over the same road he had followed
when going in, reaching the camp of Ouray on the 29th, and Denver a few days
later.
The women and children, in charge of Capt. Cline, had proceeded directly
south, reaching Ouray's house on the evening of the second day, where they
reeived a warm welcome from the veteran diplomatist, who was greatly elated over
the success of his scheme. Thence they traveled, by easy stages, to Denver,
everywhere being greeted with demonstrations of joy over their escape, and at
Denver they had quite an ovation. Their arrival in Greeley, however, was the
most affecting incident of hte latter portion of their trip. There they met
their old friends, neighbors and relatives, whom they had little thought ever to
meet again nder such circumstances and surroundings. It was as if the dead ha
been restored to life, and no language can fitly portray the feelings of the
rescued prisoners, or their friends who welcomed them "Home again."
pp. 148-151