Mochi’s War: The Tragedy of Sand Creek

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Mochi’s War: The Tragedy of Sand Creek

 

 

“Mochi was so distinguished for fiend-like fierceness and atrocity that it was not deemed safe to leave her on the plains. She was a fine-looking Indian woman but as mean as they come.”

Observation made by a military officer after Mochi’s arrest on March 5, 1875

 

Somewhere amid the high plain’s sage country, the Big Sandy Creek once ran red with the blood of dozens of Cheyenne and Arapaho men, women, and children. On November 29, 1864, hundreds of members of the Colorado Volunteers poured down upon a sleeping Indian camp, leaving in their wake the slaughtered remains of Native Americans who were scalped and mutilated.

The unprovoked attack on the Indian settlement was led by Colonel John Milton Chivington, who is said to have ordered every Indian at the scene killed. To those settlers and traders who had been terrorized by the Indians and because of exaggerated reports of Indian attacks on families and troops, the Sand Creek Massacre was regarded by some as proper retribution on the Indians, and Chivington was revered for his actions.

The event that forced frontiersmen and women to address the serious issues that had been building between them and the Indians occurred on June 11, 1864. Rancher Nathan Ward Hungate, his wife, Ellen, and their two little girls were slaughtered by Indians. Their mutilated bodies were brought to Denver and put on display in the center of town. The people there were thrown into a panic. In the following weeks, at the mere mention of Indians in the outlying areas, women and children were sent to homes that were fortified and guarded. Plains travel slowed to a trickle. The supply of kerosene was exhausted, and the settlers had to use candles.

A regiment of 100-day volunteers known as the Third Colorado Cavalry was organized and George L. Shoup, a scout during the Civil War, was named the outfit’s colonel. At the same time, John Evans, governor of the Colorado Territory, issued a proclamation stating: “Friendly Arapahoe and Cheyenne belonging to the Arkansas River will go to Major Colley, U.S. Indian Agent at Fort Lyon, who will give them a place of safety…. The war on hostile Indians will be continued until they are effectually subdued.”

On August 29, 1864, before the regiment saw active service, a letter from Cheyenne leader Black Kettle explaining the Indians had agreed to make peace was delivered to officers at Fort Lyon, 150 miles away from Denver. The letter noted that Cheyenne and Arapaho war parties had prisoners they would like to exchange for Indians being held by the volunteers.

Major E. W. Wynkoop of the 1st Colorado at Fort Lyon marched his troops to Black Kettle’s camp to collect the captives. While there, Wynkoop persuaded the chief to send a delegation to Denver to talk about the conditions for peace.

From Fort Leavenworth, Major General Samuel Ryan Curtis, commander of the Department of Kansas, telegraphed Chivington prior to the conference with the chiefs: “I shall require the bad Indians delivered up; restoration of equal numbers of stock; also hostages to secure. I want no peace till the Indians suffer more.” Chivington took the order to heart.

 

 

To learn more about Mochi and the vendetta war she started read

Mochi’s War: The Tragedy of Sand Creek

 

 

Lincoln County Outlaw

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Outlaw Women of the Midwest

 

Anne Cook's Poor House

 

Anyone who knew Anne Cook thought she was cruel, unfeeling, and motivated by money.  The brothel she operated in North Platte, Nebraska, in the late 1920s was a profitable enterprise, but she wanted to amass a fortune and one house of ill repute would not be enough.  No legitimate business alone could make her rich either.  Anne hoped to fulfill her dream with a combination of both.  According to those who knew the Cook family well, Anne’s teenage daughter brought in a substantial amount of income working for her at the brothel.  Clients requested the thirteen-year-old on a regular basis.

By the time Clara was in her 30s she had fully adopted her mother’s quest for wealth and was equally ambitious.  In addition to entertaining callers, Clara had become a bookkeeper for Anne’s various illegal enterprises.  Among Anne’s nefarious business ventures was bootlegging, gambling, and extortion.  Clara used what she knew about her mother’s criminal behavior to extort money from Anne and grow her own bank account.  The pair often fought over the misappropriation of funds.  Clara misjudged how far Anne would go to maintain the property, money, and power she had acquired.

On May 29, 1934, Clara challenged her mother for the last time.  Family members at the sprawling farm where they lived in Lincoln County, Nebraska, told authorities that the pair had been arguing most of the day.  No one was certain of the nature of the quarrel only that Anne had settled the heated discussion by killing her daughter.

 

 

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Bedside Book of Bad Girls:  Outlaw Women of the Old West

 

Zip Wyatt’s Gang

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On August 2, 1895, two women bandits, Mrs. Belle Black and Mrs. Jennie Freeman, were captured in the Glass Mountains, in the western part of the Cherokee Strip, and were place in the Unites States jail in Guthrie, Oklahoma.  They belonged to the notorious gang of desperados led by Zip Wyatt, an outlaw guilty of at least a dozen murders.  So skillful was his performance and that of his two female deputies that they defied the vigilance of the Sheriff for more than a year.

According to the arresting officers neither of the women was “appealing in any way.”  “Mrs. Black was small and heavy with dark hair and blue eyes and an expression that was not only criminal, but very unpleasant.  Her husband was one of the outlaw members of the gang.  Mrs. Freeman was tall, thin and malignant.  She left her husband in 1894 to elope with Zip Wyatt.  The women dressed as ordinary farmers’ wives and their appearance and manner enabled them to get away with a good deal of plunder unsuspected.  They sit in their cells chatting with the other prisoners or playing a game of cards with those who have been allowed the freedom of the corridors with them.”

 

 

For more information about the women highway robbers who eluded law enforcement read the Bedside Book of Bad Girls

 

Flora Mundis: Lady Horse Thief

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Tom King followed five, spirited, fast-moving horses into a dense line of trees seven miles outside the town of Fredonia, Kansas. It was a stifling hot, August day in 1894. The ground the criminal’s horse’s hooves pounded into was cracked and dry. Sweat foamed around the animal’s neck and hind quarters. Low hanging branches on brown, thirsty trees slapped at them as they passed by. King, dressed in worn trousers, chaps, flannel shirt, a large brimmed hat, and a tan duster, skillfully maneuvered his ride around limbs that had fallen and lay about on the path they raced along.

King and his roan were directly beside the five horses as they broke through the other side of the copse of trees. His horse leapt over a cluster of large boulders standing between the rider and the open prairie. Tom leaned back in the saddle as his horse jumped to let the wind strip off his coat. In that moment Tom and the horse were in mid-air, and the coat trailed behind him like leather wings.

From a crude camp in the far distance, Fredonia Sheriff H.S. McCleary watched Tom and his mount keep pace with the horses. The lawman cast a glance at the deputies standing on either side of him. Their eyes were fixed on King. If not for the fact that the authorities were there to arrest King for horse stealing, they might have felt compelled to congratulate him on his equestrian skills. They had apprehended King’s partner, Ed Bullock, at the thieve’s camp, placed a gag around his mouth, and handcuffed him to the back of a wagon. The ground around the vehicle was strewn with provisions that had once been packed inside the wagon. One of the items was a large trunk. The sheriff and his men had been searching for something, and the hunt appeared to have concluded with the trunk. The lock on it had been busted; the trunk was opened, and an assortment of stolen jewelry, resting on a long tray, gleamed in the sunlight.

Bullock tugged at the handcuffs in a desperate attempt to break free. He wanted to warn King about what was waiting for him. King led the ill-gotten horses into the camp, realizing too late the law had found him. The sheriff leveled his gun at the outlaw, and King slowly dismounted. He surrendered his weapon without having to be asked. The sheriff took a few steps toward King, studying his face as he walked. The sun and wind had darkened King’s complexion, and at first glance he appeared to be a mixed-blood Cherokee Indian. Sheriff McCleary asked him how old he was, and King told him his age was twenty-five. The sheriff scrutinized King’s face then told him to remove his hat. In that moment it was clear that the notorious Tom King was really the woman named Flora Mundis. Her lashes and small features gave her away.

 

 

To learn more about Flora Mundis read The Bedside Book of Bad Girls

Bad Girl Kate Bender

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A fierce wind filled with alkali dust blew past Silas Toles, a Labette County, Kansas farmer, as he made his way to his neighbor’s seemingly vacant home.  Three other farmers followed tentatively behind him.  An endless prairie stretched out on either side of the weather-beaten building.  A hungry calf languished in a nearby fenced enclosure bawled pitilessly for something to eat.  A handful of dead chickens lay scattered about the parched earth leading to the house.  The front door was ajar and creaked back and forth.  Silas cautiously walked to the main entrance of the building and glanced inside.  Light from the late afternoon sun filtered through partially drawn curtains onto the sparse, shabby, and torn furnishings in the center of the one room home.

Silas pushed the door open and stood in the dirt entryway.  The home was in complete disarray; clothing, books, paper, and dishes were on the floor; bugs covered bits of food on a broken table, chairs were overturned, and a pungent smell of death hung in the air.  The three men with Silas held back waiting for him to motion them forward.  The sound of fast approaching horses distracted the quartet and they watched with rapt attention as several riders hurried to the spot and quickly dismounted.  Colonel A. M. York, a distinguished, bearded man dressed in the uniform of an army officer, led a team of Civil War veterans and lawmen to the entrance of the home.  They pushed past Silas and the others and boldly entered.

Colonel York surveyed the room and kicked away the debris at his feet as he walked around.  He wore a determined, yet forlorn expression.  The group with the Colonel examined the area along with him and inspected the items underfoot carefully.  One of the men noticed a collection of Pagan artifacts including a pentagram and Tarot cards in the corner of the room.  Some of the articles were covered with dried blood.  Colonel York followed a trail of blood from the artifacts to a mound of fresh earth under a pile of soiled sheets.  Kneeling down in the dirt he scooped the earth out until he reached a crude door.  The men around stared wide-eyed at the oddity waiting for the Colonel to make the next move.  One of the lawmen brushed dirt away from a round handle attached to the door.  Before giving it a pull, he glanced over at the Colonel to see if he wanted to continue the search.  The Colonel was quietly transfixed by the scene.  The lawman interpreted his silence as an affirmative answer and quickly pulled the door open.  The foul stench that wafted out of the dark hole hit the men like a punch in the face.  There was no question the source of the odor that had offended their senses from the moment they entered the home was coming from this location.

 

 

To learn more about bad girls like Kate Bender read The Bedside Book of Bad Girls

Losing George

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None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead: The Story of Elizabeth Bacon Custer

 

 

“Indescribable yearning for the absent, and untold terror for their safety, engrossed each heart.”

Elizabeth Custer on waiting to hear news about the fate of George and the members of his command – 1885

 

It was almost two in the morning. Elizabeth couldn’t sleep. It was the heat that kept her awake, the sweltering, intense heat that had overtaken Fort Lincoln earlier that day and now made even sleeping an uncomfortable prospect. Even if the conditions for slumber were more congenial, sleep would have eluded Elizabeth. The rumor that had swept through the army post around lunchtime disturbed her greatly and until this rumor was confirmed she doubted that she’d ever be able to get a moment’s rest.

Elizabeth walked her anxious frame over to the window and gazed out at the night sky. It had been more than two weeks since she had said goodbye to her husband. She left him and his troops a few miles outside of Fort Lincoln. His orders were to intercept the Sioux and Cheyenne Indians in the territory, force them back to the reservation, and bring about stability in the hills of Montana.

Just before riding out she turned around for one last glance at General George Custer’s column departing in the opposite direction. It was a splendid picture. The flags and pennons were flying, the men were waving and even the horses seemed to be arching themselves to show how fine and fit they were. George rode to the top of the promontory and turned around, stood up in his stirrups and waved his hat. Then they all started forward again and, in a few seconds, they had disappeared, horses, flags, men, and ammunition – all on their way to the Little Bighorn River. That was the last Elizabeth saw of her husband alive.

Over and over again she played out the events of the hot day that made her restless. Elizabeth and several other wives had been sitting inside her quarters singing hymns. They desperately hoped the lyrics would give comfort to their longing hearts. All at once they noticed a group of soldiers congregating and talking excitedly. One of the Indian scouts, Horn Toad, ran to them and announced, “Custer killed. Whole command killed.” The woman stared back at Horn Toad in stunned silence. Catherine Benteen asked the Indian how he knew that Custer was killed? He replied: “Speckled Cock, Indian Scout, just come. Rode pony many miles. Pony tired. Indian tired. Say Custer shoot himself at end. Say all dead.”

 

To learn more about Elizabeth Bacon Custer and her marriage to

George Armstrong Custer read

None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead: The Story of Elizabeth Bacon Custer

 

 

Suddenly Alone

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None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead: The Story of Elizabeth Bacon Custer

 

 

Persistent raindrops tapped against the windows of Elizabeth Custer’s Park Avenue apartment in New York. The prim, 74-year-old women, dressed head to toe in black, Victorian clothing, stared out at the dreary, foggy weather. She wore a pensive expression. Her graying hair was pulled back neatly into a tight bun, a few loose tendrils had escaped and gently framed her small face. Her throat was modestly covered with lace.

The room around Elizabeth was grand in size and filled with items she had collected from her days on the western plains. Framed drawings of the Kansas prairie, a trunk with George’s initials across the top, photographs of friends and family at various outposts, and an assortment of books on subjects ranging from travel beyond the Mississippi to the types of wild flowers that lined the Oregon trail were among her treasures. The sparse furnishings in the apartment were covered with newspapers and journals. A small desk was littered with hundreds of letters.

Elizabeth glanced at the clock on a nearby table then clicked on a radio housed in a gigantic cabinet beside her. As she tuned the dial through static and tones, a bright, maroon light sifted into the hollow of the dark room. At the same time the fog outside the window lifted a bit and the vague, misty outlines of palatial apartment buildings, museums, and churches came into view.

Elizabeth found the radio station she was looking for and leaned back in a plush chair as a voice described upcoming programming. She pulled a shawl around her shoulders and sat patiently waiting. After a few moments, an announcer broke in with pertinent information about the broadcast. The program Elizabeth was tuned in to was Frontier Fighters and the episode was entitled Custer’s Last Stand. The airdate was June 26, 1926, 50 years after the Battle at Little Bighorn.

As the reenactment unfolded, Elizabeth’s eyes settled on a photograph of George hanging on the wall above the radio and she remembered that awful moment. The devastated look on the faces of the 20 wives who lost their husbands the same day she lost hers would never be forgotten. “From that time the life went out of the hearts of the women who wept,” Elizabeth wrote in her memoirs, “and God asked them to walk on alone in the shadows.”

 

To learn more about Elizabeth Bacon Custer and her marriage to George Armstrong Custer read

None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead: The Story of Elizabeth Bacon Custer

 

Trouble Apart

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None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead:  The Story of Elizabeth Bacon Custer

 

 

“I would be willing, yes glad, to see a battle every day during my life.”

George Custer – October 1862

Spirited music and laughter burst through the doors of Chicago’s Opera House. The velveteen drapes subdued the whir of roulette wheels that lined the theatre lobby and muffled the voices of the Faro dealers. Patrons poured into the establishment seeking entertainment and shelter from the freezing cold. Chicago was a city of handsome dwellings whose elegance and refinements were reflected in the brilliant social life. A throb beat through its every artery. One of the many acts that could hold the attention of the bustling area was Lydia Thompson’s British Blondes. The troupe of celebrated actresses with overwhelming proportions who specialized in dancing and pantomime, performed for packed houses nightly. Among some of the most famous audience members were Grand Duke Alexis Romonoff, Wild Bill Hickock, and George Custer.

Over the Thanksgiving holiday in 1869, George had visited the show a couple of times, partaking not only in the burlesque styling of the irresistible sirens, but the popular games of chance that greeted people when they entered the building. George had been in Michigan taking care of family business when he decided to travel to Illinois to visit Phil Sheridan, his former army commander and respected mentor who was ill. News that he was in the Windy City spread quickly and George was inundated with invitations to attend dinners and theatrical openings. His reputation as soldier and military leader, along with the numerous published articles he had written about his combat experience, preceded him. Everyone wanted to be in George’s company, and he delighted in the attention. Local newspapers reported on his outings, giving special concentration to the fact that Elizabeth was not at his side. “George Custer,” the article began, “has been seen about without his wife, chasing blondes instead of Indian maidens.” He made light of the report in a letter he wrote to Elizabeth and let her know that in addition to the Blonde Beauties Show he also took in a play featuring the best known comedian of the day, Joseph Jefferson. “I never had so nice a time in all my life – expect when I am with you,” George assured his wife.

Elizabeth read over her husband’s letters from their quarters at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. She usually accompanied George in his travels, but for this trip she decided to remain behind. Her cousin, Anne Bingham, was coming to visit and she didn’t want to miss spending time with her. After receiving George’s letter Elizabeth wished she had gone with him. Along with the list of entertaining activities, his correspondences contained some worrisome information about playing cards with friends. George was a gambler who found it difficult to resist a game.

 

 

To learn more about Elizabeth Bacon Custer and her marriage to

George Armstrong Custer read

None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead: The Story of Elizabeth Bacon Custer

 

 

Plains Living

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None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead: The Story of Elizabeth Bacon Custer

 

 

“My husband used to tell me that he believed he was the happiest man on earth, and I cannot help but thinking he was.”

Elizabeth Custer – 1882

A group of some 40 officers and their wives congregated in the parlor of George and Elizabeth Custer’s home at Fort Abraham Lincoln in North Dakota. A fiddler entertained several men and women at one end of the tastefully decorated room. More guests paraded past a table filled with a variety of food and drinks at the other. Elizabeth manned the door, kindly welcoming latecomers to the party in progress. She touched her finger to her lips indicating that the attendees should enter quietly.

The music stopped. A hush fell over the guests. Elizabeth’s brother-in-law, Tom, sister-in-law, Maggie, and family friend, Agnes, marched into the setting and crossed to the musicians. All three wore costumes. Maggie was dressed as a Sioux Indian Maiden. Agnes and Tom were dressed as Quakers. George and the others in attendance stifled a chuckle as the trio struck a dignified pose for the captive audience. They were acting out a scene from a current event in the region. Known as a tablie ux, the object of the entertaining charade was to guess the event and whom the players represented.

Partygoers enthusiastically shouted out their best guesses. Others issued comical remarks that made everyone erupt in laughter. When the right guess was announced, the actors broke character and took a bow. The happy audience applauded their efforts and the music started up again.

 

 

To learn more about Elizabeth Bacon Custer and her marriage to George Armstrong Custer read

None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead: The Story of Elizabeth Bacon Custer.

 

Yours Forever, Elizabeth

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George & Elizabeth Custer seated.

 

It was rare for women in the 19th century to accompany their husbands on adventures that were so exciting they seemed almost fictitious. It was rarer still for women to write about those adventures in books designed to bring glory to their husband’s name. Such was the life and career of Elizabeth Custer who lived primarily in reflected wonder of her gallant husband, George Armstrong Custer, one of the most charming and controversial soldiers the country ever produced.

When young George Custer visited his sister in Monroe, Michigan, he was introduced to, and quickly swept off his feet by Elizabeth Bacon. Judge Bacon, Elizabeth’s father, was not initially impressed with the young army captain with yellow curls. So young George rode away and came back two years later as a Brigadier-General, the youngest in the army, and he and Elizabeth were married in 1864. Their honeymoon was spent in a war zone since it was the last year of the Civil War. This gave Elizabeth Custer her first taste of what would become her life – the uncertainty and discomfort of army life.

In the 12 years the Custers were together, Elizabeth lived history. She saw the surrender of Lee to Grant at Appomattox, and later was given the table at which the terms of surrender were signed. After the war, George was sent to Texas and the Plains States to fight the Indians, and so began for Elizabeth the most thrilling events of her life.

The Custers were devoted to one another and valued the time they spent together. Not only did Elizabeth follow George across the frontier, but she also went with him into the field. Though, at times, she lived in tents alongside members of the 7th Cavalry, the army didn’t allow Elizabeth to go with George everywhere. General Custer and the military considered some assignments too hazardous for women. During the time they had to be separated, George and Elizabeth wrote each other constantly.

The Custers were very much in love, but there were periods when they antagonized each other. Occasionally, George or Elizabeth would use the rumor mill or drop hints to make the other one jealous. Sometimes, Elizabeth would write her husband just to tell him how annoyed he made her. Fearing her letters might be read by someone other than George, she wrote all such correspondences in shorthand. He wasn’t always as discreet. One time when he was particularly irritated with Elizabeth, he cut and pasted a note together that strongly expressed his feelings. The message he sent her is shown below.

The duo inevitably arrived on the other side of each difficulty closer than they were before and more committed to their marriage.

Elizabeth’s thrilling life adventure with George lasted until that unfortunate day when Custer and his troops made their immortal last stand against the Sioux Indians at the battle of the Little Bighorn on June 25, 1876. During the battle, Elizabeth was only a few hundred miles away, waiting bravely for news of the outcome. From that day forward, she lived to glorify her husband’s memory and keep his heroism forever green in the annals of brave fighters.

 

 

To learn more about Elizabeth Custer and the life she lived in the field with her husband read

None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead.