V. THE BATTLE OF THE WASHITA

The camp was becoming aroused now
-- beyond the teepees of the Cheyenne,
half-dressed Arapaho and Kiowa
rushed from their warm lodges and began
to spread the alarm -- "Pony Soldiers!"
and "Yellow Hair!" hastened the cry.
They called about to one another
to see what had gone awry,					8

for in the dark of morning dawn,
only the first lodges really knew
what was coming down on them.
What must have been passing through
those weary, wakened minds
would have surely been the tales told,
or memories held, for some among them
had been there to behold,					16

of Colonel J.M. Chivington's
Colorado Volunteers attack
on the Cheyenne village at Sand Creek,
or even further back,
of General W.S. Harney,
whose troops in fifty five 
had fallen upon the sleeping Sioux,
and left few of them alive,					24


at Blue Water Creek in Nebraska
-- they clubbed and shot at will
the hapless Sioux, not just the braves,
but women and children until
the camp was silent beneath them.
Now, here, Custer raised his hand
and signaled for the troops to charge,
and for the regimental band					32

to commence playing 'Garry Owen,'
the Seventh's own war hymn.
The soldiers drove their horses
and charged directly in
and across the shallow river
-- on the far bank they came upon
the first of the lodges.
The Battle of the Washita had thus begun.		40

The woman of Double Wolf 
had been the first to see them come,
and had alerted her husband,
but she had stumbled back away from
her teepee and the river
after seeing her husband shot down,
and she tried to make her way
to a safety that could not be found.				48




Brotherhood and friendship 
had long been old Black Kettle's quest
-- he sought peace with his white brothers,
even when all the rest
told him that he was wrong. 
Even after his escape at Sand Creek,
he sought to avoid conflict
-- for reason, he would stand to speak.			56

This morning, he stood and stumbled out
from his lodge into the snow,
aroused by the rising tumult.
Seeing the attacking foe,
he and his grey-haired old wife
made their slow way toward
their ponies tied not far away
to escape this savage horde.					64

Black Kettle's old bones did not fail him
as he mounted upon his steed
and pulled his feebler wife on behind him,
and urged the horse to speed.
And then came the fire of the soldiers
-- their carbines found their mark,
but Black Kettle's stout heart rallied
through the rifle's continuing bark,				72




and he turned dead at the soldiers
and miraculously broke through,
heading for the river and seeking escape,
weaponless, and bleeding, too.
Custer's men had their orders
-- none were to escape -- and so once more,
the Pony Soldiers turned toward them
and unleashed another roar.					80

A blaze of bullets blasted through
the pony and it went down.
Black Kettle fell motionless
while his bleeding wife looked around,
and tried to run toward her dead husband
-- more lead filled her back --
she fell and tried to crawl to him
and then was still. The attack					88

went on over the still bodies
-- the tribes in disarray,
were caught by surprise by the assault.
In the dark of early day,
there would be no way to guide
a bullet to its mark
-- women and children fell beside the men.
Yellow Hair's orders barked					96




above the exploding of rifles,
the shouts and screams and battle din.
The Pony Soldiers took no care;
the aim of their carbines
took children from their mothers' arms.
Below the camp and to the south,
Elliot and Meyers blocked escape,
and there could be no escape without			104

the ponies, and they had all been seized
-- they could not outrun lead.
And Cook's men blocked the river
when they ran toward it in dread.
In the icy waters, bodies bobbed about,
and the snow was red with flesh,
and Custer's brave soldiers smelled triumph,
and so, the battle they pressed.				112

Yet, somehow in the slaughter,
perhaps through strength of heart,
a group of Black Kettle's warriors
managed in the frenzy to chart
a way across the water.
They reached the river bank and fought
slowly toward the Arapaho camp,
which itself had been caught					120




in the cavalry attack as well.
The sounds of battle there
were fading in the distance
-- the gunfire that had filled the air
had slackened, and so Custer,
to quell the fire, raised his hand,
shouting that the fight was over.
With "We've got them!" came the command.		128



VI. EAGLE FEATHERS

While the dreaded Long Hair marked triumph,
his scouts down to a one
urged him not to be fooled now
-- this fight was not yet done!
And his officers quickly agreed,
for from the other camps below
came only the blasts of Winchesters,
not the crack of carbine blows.				8

And George Custer's face betrayed
the realization he had made;
he must rush with speed to go
to Major Elliot's aid.
Moments passed as they rode on
toward the camp of the Arapaho;
passed the bend in the river
they marched out into a large meadow,			16

when they stopped their advance, for the hills
for as far as they could see
were lined with battle dressed warriors
on all sides of the cavalry.
For a moment, Custer, undaunted,
gave out the order to proceed,
but the scouts, his men, or a moment's wisdom,
registered quickly to intercede.				24


As from one, a great war cry
echoed down from off the slopes,
and the cavalry took fire
-- now he would heed Hard Rope
and his other scouts and men,
as the tide of warriors rolled down;
Colonel Custer ordered his trumpeter
to sound recall; his face frowned.				32

Before their retreat took them back
to the camp they had secured
from Black Kettle, some of Elliot's men
joined up with them bringing word
of his death, and of the great force
of the impending storm
-- a force of warriors numbering
in the hundreds about to swarm.				40

Perhaps three thousand hostiles
were moving in upon Long Hair,
and Custer understood instinctively
what he must do with dispatch there,
so he ordered Captain Meyers
to take his and Cook's best shots
and hold off the gathering horde
that even now had got						48




to the other side of the river.
Now Custer set to stamp,
under their protection, the final
destruction of Black Kettle's camp.
In the midst of the hundred dead
-- their bodies dotting the icy ground --
he set his men to swiftly act
to pile in one great mound					56

the saddles, hides, and rifles,
lances, arrows, blankets, and meat
-- all the captured plunder --
and with that task complete,
they pulled down each of the lodges,
dragging them into the store,
then poured all the captured gunpowder,
five hundred pounds or more,					64

onto the mountain of the wealth
of goods that had been raised,
and set the mound afire
-- in great, roaring flames it blazed.
Blackened smoke rolled across
to where the eagle feathers danced,
held there now the last half hour,
but savoring their inevitable chance.			72




And then in full and clear view
of that impending wash of braves
that held the far bank waiting
to sweep down as a wave,
Custer ordered the entire pony herd
of Black Kettle driven out
and slaughtered before the warriors
-- for an hour came the shouts				76

of the arms of Cook's sharpshooters,
roaring in steady blasts,
until all nine hundred of them
had been cut down at last.
And now the hearts of the Cheyenne
fell within them dead.
And now the rifles of the Cheyenne
ceased to spout their lead.					88

They could not fight, Long Hair knew,
seeing their horses being killed,
and without a sound, all of them
rode off slowly from the field.
By the hundreds, they withdrew,
stunned and heart-broken, to the hills,
and the Battle of the Washita ended
-- across the land, all was still.				96




The warriors rode off down the river,
and soon, too, the cavalry
followed its tracks back through the snow,
to the west, in 'victory,'
marching the women and children prisoners
with them on the way
to Camp Supply near the Canadian River,
triumphant in this foray.						104

Upon the cold and quiet snow,
Black Kettle lay in death
and the smell of death filled the valley
-- the night before, his breath
had urged his people to send a delegation
to the soldiers he would lead
to convince them that they wanted peace,
that there would be no need					112

for further battle or bloodshed,
and the people had agreed.
But it had been a different day
that fate had here decreed.
The weariness of his old bones
had at Washita found their rest
-- indeed, he had just returned
from Fort Cobb to push his quest,				120




and had been turned away,
but to seek to try once more
-- his efforts had been answered
by the bullets' bloody roar.
In the wake of the Washita,
Red Cloud was moved to seek
an end to the hopeless struggle,
but to Sitting Bull, another voice would speak.   	128



VII. THE GREAT SIOUX UPRISING

Out beyond where once was forest,
passed the mighty river's banks,
stretched the broad expanse of plainsland
for which the Sioux tribes offered thanks.
An ambiance of open spaces
-- wide open spaces of the west,
yet there is no place too isolate
when there are those intrigue will press.			8

The whole expanse of this continent
-- indeed, the limits of our earth
have been torn of such intrigue forever
-- our noble republic, in its birth
rose of the conflict that has marked us,
man as God's hand on the earth,
reaching to fulfill the divine spark in us,
the Gottenfunken of our worth.   				16

But to meet at every turn,
at every precipice and crossroads,
they who there would intercept us,
lighten the burden of our load;
we, their sweating beasts of burden
-- we, their poor unfortunate knaves --
without reason, bound forever,
to their mastery as their slaves.				24


Thus, it has been that our nation,
born in struggle with these foes,
has known ever and endured their efforts,
falling now beneath their blows,
but to rise up, we Prometheans,
though we are marched to Calgary
-- and endure the burdens placed upon us
by our endless quest for liberty.				32

Are there they who scoff at the notion
through time of such conspiracy?
Would they have us fall beneath it,
ignorant of our history?
Men are bent to pursue their favor
and Milton knew that the data base
was not knowledge in itself,
as Dante and Plato also knew the human race.  	40

So it has been that our Republic,
formed of Franklin's firming hand
has been besieged at every corner
yet somehow it still can stand,
and fitting is it that we wonder,
as watching over ramparts we stare,
through the rockets that glare red,
to see if the stars and stripes are still there.		48




And so it was that under Lincoln,
we had to stand and face the test
to see if we could preserve the Union
which God's hand on us had blessed.
But the bloody battles raging
had been visited upon our land
by they who would undo our glory
with every motion of their hand.				56

This War Between the States was not
a sudden sibling rivalry
-- it was embedded in this struggle
that had brought us liberty
-- thus it was most fittingly
that all that marked that bravery
should also have locked in its step
to undo the chains of slavery.					64

But this was not merely our struggle.
Indeed, it was world-wide war,
in Africa and India, China, Russia,
and everywhere across the shores
of North America it raged,
where brothers noble in their quest
fought each other without knowing
-- north and south, east and west.				72




So it was that the real masters
of the ill-fated Confederacy
were perhaps not within its borders,
were not the Davis' and Lees.
Look to see what forces struggled
to undo Juarez in Mexico
-- these it was behind secession;
these it was were our common foe.				80

The Battle of the Washita Valley
had been set as a time bomb
ticking from the days of Polk
and Jackson -- a phenomenon
not unlike Bleeding Kansas
or Harper's Ferry -- the destiny
of even noble men at times
is controlled because they will not see.			88

Until the Civil War, the Sioux
had maintained a peace relatively,
even in the face of caravans
of prairie schooners and inequity.
They, the Cheyenne, and their brothers,
would attack and raid or kill 
from time to time, often in revenge,
but it was haphazard still.					96




But in the midst of the great conflict,
then the Minnesota frontier
was ravaged and devastated
by the Sioux who suddenly appeared
organized and well-armed,
taking hundreds of lives in the year
from August of eighteen sixty two
until the next July. Casualties here				104

were mainly civilian, but the army,
hands full up with Civil War,
had to contend with this rearguard action.
And still there were more.
Cheyenne fought in Colorado,
as the Sioux had, the next year,
and in the Southwest, took revolt spread,
but it also was crushed here.					112

This was not Tecumseh's rampage
as an English General,
but the roots were still the same,
and worked as a drain on the morale
of the staggered nation. Near the close
of Civil War hostilities,
Jefferson Davis sent a Creek,
Tukabatchemiko to see						120




if he could arrange a grand council
with all the Indians of the west
to meet in May of sixty five
to join with the South and attest
a peace and alliance among them.
Twenty thousand were to heed the call,
but this Treaty of Washita came
a full month after Appomatox' fall.				128



VIII. PAHA SAPA

Paha Sapa, the Black Hills,
was the center of the world, the place
of holy mountains where the gods lived,
where warriors went to face
and speak to the Great Spirit,
Wakantanka, and await
visions brought them, and which
the whites should not desecrate,				8

for this was sacred to the Sioux,
the Cheyenne and Arapaho, too.
In the years after the Civil War,
no white man wanted anything to do
with this expanse; yet not many moons
after Spotted Tail and Red Cloud
had led their Teton peoples to settle
on the reservation land allowed				16

in the northwest of Nebraska,
word began to spread far and wide
that there was gold in those hills,
and thus it was grew a tide
of white prospectors invading
Paha Sapa to search the streams
and passes of the sacred lands
for the yellow metal of their dreams.			24


Red Cloud's treaty with the white man
was not what it had seemed to be,
but it did give this land to them,
and no whites, supposedly,
could enter in without permission
of the Indians, but they came
seeking out their fortunes,
their hearts ablaze with yellow flame.			32

And when braves found these crazed white men
at large in the sacred hills,
they would harass and chase them,
and some of them were killed.
Yet gold fever brought in evermore
in direct contradiction of the law,
and so the Sioux turned to defending
their sacred lands from what they saw.			40

And they made the north plains bloody
-- they plundered, scalped, and burned.
No settler, prospector, or wagon train
was safe, for they had churned
the old spirit of resistance up
among the Sioux who simply sought
to enforce Red Cloud's treaty,
which was their right they thought.			48




But all the Sioux and other tribes
were not agency Indians,
and just as they had been during 
the Civil War, once again,
they could now be motivated to become
an insurrection in the west
to block the growth of the united republic,
or break it up in their quest,					56

and so the vast stretch of frontier
was ablaze, while the U.S.
had seen the eastern bankers
collapse our economy depressed.
Their cry was gold just as it was,
coincidentally, for all they
who were gold-hungry and coming here
-- and the Sioux stood in the way.				64

And these raised a great clamor
for the government to intervene
by sending in the army,
and while there had indeed been
those who argued against it,
and there were those who argued
that peaceful treatment had failed				72





and that these utter savages
could only be restrained
by force, and besides due
to all the budgetary restraints
brought on by the depression,
we could no longer afford
to pacify the Sioux by spending
millions on their board.						80

There were Sioux like Red Cloud
and Spotted Tail who knew
the futility of struggle
-- that they'd be wiped out -- and then, too,
the Great White Father Grant
announced his desire to prevent
invasion of this country,
but in the end, he would relent.				88

But among the Sioux there was
a determination that grew
to fight for the sacred lands,
and now there were new
leaders among them, Tashunka
Witko or Crazy Horse,
and Nakpa Kesla, American Horse,
and Sitting Bull, of course.					96





These were men who had grown
to manhood throughout all
-- Sand Creek, Washita, the Civil War,
Red Cloud's Treaty -- and the call
they made to the people was one
they were prepared to hear
-- they must defend the Paha Sapa,
the land they so revered.						104

While on the reservation, Red Cloud
was having troubles of his own
with the agent, J. J. Seville,
for the supplies and rations had grown
poor and sparse. His people,
bent in hunger and misery, turned
to the new voices they now heard 
-- Red Cloud's words were spurned.			112

Into the middle of the decade,
the crisis grew more severe.
As the centennial was approaching,
all across the vast frontier,
as the hordes of miners moved across
the sacred Paha Sapa land,
the Plains Indians rose up
and the War for the Black Hills began.			120



With the Moon of the Red Cherries,
a thousand Pony Soldiers marched across
the Missouri River and into the Black Hills.
Unprepared, and at a loss,
the Sioux could but look on
as their long columns entered there.
At their head rode Colonel Custer,
Pahuska, the Star Chief Long Hair.			128


IX. THE BOY GENERAL

Blossoms fade and pass to silence
-- the silence of the pall of time --
but 'tis time brings from the shadows
deeds of honor and of crime.
It is not always good interred
with the bones -- it's not regrets,
but truth that we would seek to render,
that the careless earth forgets.					8

The western legions were a home for him,
a place where he could fit,
this power-hungry glory-seeker
-- this was surely where he would get it.
And there were many name for him,
Long Hair, Yellow Hair, Hard Ass
-- the latter because he'd chase for days
across the open prairie grass					16

pursuing an Indian he wanted enough
-- Squaw Killer, Boy General, and
the Butcher of Washita.
But he was known well across the land,
this eccentric, outrageous fellow --
the Star Chief Custer, whose name,
which to some meant fame and glory,
now reeks of infamy and shame.				24


He wasn't born there, though they claim him,
for it was the place he'd grow
-- once known as the Frenchtown,
long officially as Monroe,
on the banks of the River Raisin
at Lake Erie's western shore,
where Old Glory first waved in Michigan,
her topographical floor.						32

The young Custer left there for West Point
where his record was less than esteemed,
for while he earned good marks in his classes,
the demerits he got it seemed
always kept him near the bottom in ranking
-- he seemed to make his own rules.
That perhaps is not the best trait 
for the soldier he became when he left school.	 40

Yet, with the Civil War, the young Custer
established a record noted and marked
by his superiors and by the nation,
for this flashy officer sparked
notice that made him a hero, of sorts.
In the Virginias, he blazed a trail
behind Confederate lines in a victory
where others had tried and failed.				48




At Gettysburg, he led his regiment
of Wolverines from Michigan
and repeatedly succeeded through his
unorthodox tactics, again and again.
The youthful commander of the Union forces,
another West Pointer, who had known
Custer for a time before the war
was impressed with the daring he'd shown		56

and so McClellan added him to his command
and Custer moved up in rank
rather quickly among the dire fortunes
of the Union cause, perhaps thanks
to his bold initiative in battle,
but there were detractors who thought
that much of his daring was folly
which reckless abandon was wrought.			64

To some degree the dire fortunes
of the Union effort were grounded in
the disagreements between McClellan and Lincoln
-- this general just could not win.
Indeed, he seemed embedded in failure
and his blundering hurt the North.
Even when he acted boldly, he's hesitate,
and from victory bring defeat forth.			72




As Custer's star rose, McClellan's sat,
and while Long Hair got general's stars,
McClellan was relieved by Lincoln
with a new Union commander.
Still, Custer, who had become the youngest
to gain general rank in our history,
continued his brazen escapades,
and was busted in rank eventually.				80

His court-martial left him a colonel,
suspended from duty for a whole year.
And when McClellan ran against Lincoln,
it brought Custer into the sphere
of politics from which he had really
not strayed far from. Lincoln won
over McClellan, and the Union
was triumphant -- the war was done.			88

Yet, while it ended, it continued,
for Lincoln fell and in the west,
the Indian card was still to be played out,
and Custer would take his quest
for fame and glory into the plains
under Grant, who knew him well,
and was not impressed by his disobeying orders,
or his tactics so doggerel.					96




George Armstrong Custer was a good Democrat
in the tradition of Lewis Cass,
his old friend from Michigan,
and both of them were cast
in the mold of the Democratic Party
of the day, of Jackson who sneered
at the American System and who marched
the Indians on the Trail of Tears.				104

This had been the party of slavery
and become that of disenfranchisement.
And Custer was a renowned figure,
throughout the nation, and this lent
itself to his rising fortune
as a star of the Democratic field,
and politics became his background
on and off the battlefield.					112

In Monroe County, the Democratic Party
treated him as the great man he knew 
all along that he was, as it did
throughout the State and the nation, too.
In the decade after the Civil War,
they kept his hand in the frey
and this mentality manifest itself
in all of his western forays.					120


Thus he was at Washita.
Thus his men would in victory
scalp the men and cut off private parts
of the Indian women to be
worn as part of their uniforms
as they roamed across the west
subduing the savages of the plains,
marking civilization's conquest.				128



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