Life Among the Apaches E-Book

John Carey Cremony

• Herausgeber: John Carey Cremony
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

John C. Cremony's first encounter with the Indians of the Southwest occurred in the early 1850s, when he accompanied John R. Bartlett’s boundary commission surveying the United States-Mexican border. Some ten years later, as an officer of the California Volunteers, he renewed his acquaintance, particularly with the Apaches, whom he came to know as few white Americans before him had. Cremony's account of his experiences, published in 1868, quickly became, and remains today, a basic source on Apache beliefs, tribal life, and fighting tactics. Although its original purpose was to induce more effective military suppression of the Apaches, it has all the fast-paced action and excitement of a novel and the authenticity of an ethnographic and historical document.

Leseprobe

TABLE OF CONTENTS

COVER

THE AUTHOR

TITLE

COPYRIGHT

LIFE AMONG THE APACHE

DEDICATION

PREFACE.

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XXI

CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIV

CHAPTER XXV

CHAPTER XXVI

CHAPTER XXVII

THE AUTHOR

Major John C. Cremony (1815 – August 24, 1879) was an American newspaperman who enrolled in the Massachusetts Volunteers in 1846, serving as a lieutenant.

He served as a Spanish-language interpreter for the U.S. Boundary Commission which laid out the Mexican and United States Border between 1849–1852. He went on to serve as captain in Company B, 2nd Regiment California Volunteer Cavalry a unit of California Volunteers, with the California Column in New Mexico Territory. He eventually achieved the rank of major in 1864 and commanded the 1st Battalion of Native Cavalry, California Volunteers until 1866. He was the first editor of San Francisco's Weekly Sunday Times newspaper.

Cremony served most of his military career in the Southwest and personally knew Apache Chiefs Mangas Coloradas and Cochise. He was the first white man to become fluent in the Apache language, learning it in his role as an interpreter, and publishing the first written compilation of their language as a glossary for the army. As a result, Cremony was often able to resolve numerous issues between the military, reservation authorities and the Apaches. Not all of Cremony's discourses with the Apache were peaceful, however. He killed one warrior in a grueling knife fight and chronicled a non-stop 21-hour chase when he was pursued by a band of Sierra Blanca Apache (White Mountain Apache) of some 125 miles (201 km) through the desert of New Mexico while on horseback; 70 miles (110 km) of which were at a full gallop. Cremony authored Life Among the Apaches, published in 1869, which described his experiences with the tribe. Historians of the West have come to deem many of Cremony's accounts of his Indian campaigns extravagant. The Arizona Evening Star compared his veracity to that of Baron Munchausen, and a soldier who served under him did not "believe anything he says except when he says he wants whiskey."

After retiring from the army, Cremony settled in San Francisco, becoming a founding member of the Bohemian Club and establishing the club's membership guidelines in 1872. He died of tuberculosis on August 24, 1879 and is buried at Cypress Lawn Memorial Park on the Laurel Hill Mound in San Francisco, California.

(source wikipedia.org)

John Carey Cremony

LIFE AMONG THE APACHES

Arcadia Ebooks 2016

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John Carey Cremony

Life Among the Apaches

(1868)

LIFE AMONG THE APACHE

TO THE PIONEER AND LIBERAL PUBLISHER,

Anton Roman

THE ZEALOUS AND ENTERPRISING FRIEND OF LITERATURE ON

THE PACIFIC COAST, THIS UNPRETENDING VOLUME IS

RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED AS A TRIBUTE

OF THE AUTHOR’S ESTEEM.

PREFACE.

THOSE who may favor the succeeding pages with their perusal, must not expect any attempt at fine writing or glowing description. The author's intention is, to furnish a plain, unvarnished tale of actual occurrences and facts illustrative of the various tribes of Indians occupying that vast region which extends from the Colorado river on the west, to the settlements of Texas on the east, and from Taos in New Mexico to Durango in the Mexican Republic.

In the front rank of the tribes, occupying the region included within the limits mentioned, stands the great Apache race, and next are the Comanches. The former of these will engage most of the author's attention for very many and obvious reasons. It is believed that the book will contain a large amount of valuable information, to be derived from no other source extant, and it will be the author's endeavor to place it before his readers in a manner which will engage their attention. Nothing not strictly true will be admit ted into its pages, and if some of the incidents narrated be found of a thrilling character, the reader will experience satisfaction in knowing that they are not the results of imaginative picturing. Whenever a personal adventure is narrated, it will be found to illustrate some particular phase of character; none are recounted which do not convey information.

Our Government has expended millions of dollars, in driblets, since the acquisition of California, in efforts to reduce the Apaches and Navajoes, who occupy that extensive belt of country which forms the highway for overland migration from the East to the West; but we are as far from success to-day as we were twenty years ago. The reason is obvious. We have never striven to make ourselves intelligently acquainted with those tribes. Nearly all that relates to them is quite as uncertain and indefinite to our comprehension as that which obtains in the center of Africa. Those who were the best informed on the matter, and had given it the closest attention, were, at the same time most unfortunately the least capable of imparting their information; while those who were almost ignorant of the subject have been the most forward to give the results of their fragmentary gleanings. If this volume shall have the effect of bettering our present deplorable Indian policy, by letting in some light, it will accomplish the author's object.

SAN FRANCISCO, August, 1868.

J. C. C.

CHAPTER I

Comanche Raid. Detailed to send them away. Interview with Janamata. Description of the Chief.

MY first business acquaintance with “Lo” occurred in the year 1847. A band of about one hundred Comanche warriors, led by a chief named Janamata, or the “Red Buffalo,” taking advantage of the subdued and defenceless condition of the Mexicans, crossed the Rio Grande, about seventy miles below Old Reynosa, and commenced a series of depredations. Information was immediately given to the American officer commanding at that post, and the writer was detailed, with a force of fifty men, to drive off the invaders, with orders not to engage in hostilities, unless the Indians proved refractory and deaf to all other appeals.

After marching fifty miles, which was accomplished in two days, we arrived at the scene of operations, meeting the Comanches on the highway. Our force was immediately disposed to the best advantage, and placing a white handkerchief on the point of my sabre, I advanced alone toward the chief, who, leaving his warriors, rode forward to meet me. He spoke Spanish fluently, having evidently acquired it in his many marauding excursions into Mexico. Having met, I offered him a cigarito, which was accepted with Indian stoicism. We smoked in perfect silence for half a minute, when the cigaritos having been consumed the following dialogue took place:

Officer. — “I am sent to tell you, that you must recross the Rio Grande with your warriors, and come here no more to molest these people while we remain in the country.”

Indian. — “I hear your words. They are not pleasant. These Mexicans are our natural enemies; we have warred against them for many years. They are also your enemies. You are killing them in their own country, the same as I am. The Comanches are friends to the Americans. Why do you prevent your friends from hunting your enemies and theirs?”

Officer. — “Red man, you mistake. These people were our enemies, but they have yielded, and all who have submitted are under our protection. “We have ceased from doing them harm, and if we permit you to injure them after we have disarmed them, it would be the same as if we did so ourselves.”

Indian. — “But your revenge is for yourselves. It does not satisfy us for the blood of Comanches slain by Mexicans. You made war upon them without our consent or knowledge. We do the same. A wise warrior takes advantage of his enemy’s weakness. It is now our opportunity.”

Officer. — “These people are our captives, and cannot continue to be your enemies while in that condition. Suppose you had a dozen Apache captives, would you permit the Kaddos to come into your camp and kill them; take their property and go off without resistance?”

Indian. — “White man, your tongue is double, like a woman’s; but the Comanche does not feel to war against his American brothers. I and my people will recross the Rio Grande, but will not promise never to come back. Good-by.”

Our colloquy ended we smoked another cigarito; he waved his hand to his warriors, and without another word directed his course to the river, which was soon waded, and Janamata, with his followers, stood on American soil. This little interview imparted the knowledge that the American savages are rather keen logicians, from their own uncivilized stand-point, as they are incapable of appreciating the moral and religious sensibilities of enlightened races.

Janamata was a good type of his tribe, in point of physical development. He was about five feet ten inches in height, with well proportioned shoulders, very deep chest, and long, thin, but muscular arms. His forehead, was very broad and moderately high, his mouth enormous, and garnished with strong white teeth. His nose was of the Roman order, broad and with much expanded nostrils, which appeared to pulsate with every emotion; but his countenance was rigid and immovable as bronze. His arms consisted of a bow and quiver full of arrows, a long lance, a long sharp knife, worn in the top of his moccasin boot, and a very good Colt’s revolver. A strong shield of triple buffalo bide, ornamented with brass studs, hung from his saddle bow, and his dress was composed of buckskin and buffalo hide well tanned and flexible, but wholly free from ornament. I afterwards learned from a Texas Ranger that he was called Janamata, or the “Red Buffalo,” from a desperate encounter he once had with one of those animals, which had ripped up his horse, and attacked him on foot. In this encounter Janamata had only his knife to depend on, as he had lost lance and bow when unhorsed. It is related that as the buffalo charged upon him, he sprang over the animal’s lowered front, and landing on his back, plunged his knife several times into its body; then, as suddenly jumping off behind, he seized it by the tail and with one cut severed the ham-string. These details made an impression upon me at the time which has never been effaced or weakened.

Years passed before another opportunity offered to extend my acquaintance with Indians, and then in a totally different sphere and under different circumstances, and with many different tribes. The lapse of time, however, gave opportunity for reflection, and I realized the fact that my former rude impressions, founded upon such authorities as Catlin, Cooper, and others, must be considerably modified; and I resolved that, should occasion ever offer, I would devote attention and time to the observation of Indian character as it is, and not as I had believed it to be from writers on the subject.

CHAPTER II

March from Texas to El Paso. The Lipans. Their Personal Appearance. Sait-jah and the Picture

IN the year 1849, I was prevailed upon by Dr. Thomas H. Webb, Secretary of the Massachusetts Historical Society, to forego my position on the BostonHerald, and accept an appointment on the United States Boundary Commission, then being re-organized under the Hon. John R. Bartlett. Mr. Bartlett selected some thirty of the Commission, and determined to proceed by way of the Northern Route, which, up to that period, had been traveled only three times, and was, consequently, but little known. The most valuable information relative to the route was received from Judge Ankrim — a brave, courteous and handsome gentleman. In accordance with the directions pricked out on Mr. Bartlett’s traveling chart by Judge Ankrim, one portion of the Commission directed their way, leaving the great body, under Col. John McClellan, U. S. Topographical Engineers, to come on by what is known as the Southern Route, a well beaten and frequently used road. Many portions of the way selected by Mr. Bartlett had never before been gone over by white men. There was no trail to direct our course, nor did we possess any satisfactory knowledge of its ability to afford wood, water and grass. The maps, however, showed that it was crossed by certain streams at stated distances, and the venture was boldly undertaken.

On arriving within a short distance of the South Concho river, we camped on a small stream named the Antelope creek, situated in the Lipan country. Early next morning, as the party were about to resume the march, an Indian was seen advancing at full speed. A halt was ordered, and in a few minutes he was among us asking, in Spanish, for the commander. I at once took him to Mr. Bartlett, and, on approaching the Commissioner, our red visitant commenced fumbling among his clothes, from which he extracted a dirty piece of handkerchief, which, being unrolled, disclosed another dirty rag, and the unwrapping continued until five pieces of cotton fragments had been unrolled, displaying a handsome leopard skin pouch, in which were a number of recommendations, signed by well-known Americans, and setting forth that the bearer, Chipota, a Lipan chief, had, a short time before, celebrated a treaty of peace with the United States, and was entitled to the consideration and kindness of all American travelers over those wastes. During the interview, I attentively watched the Indian, who gave slight indications of uneasiness as to the manner in which his overtures would be received; but these were soon dissipated by the frank and amicable deportment of Mr. Bartlett, who invited his visitor to take a seat in his carriage and proceed with him to the next camp, which was about twelve miles further. Chipota appeared to be about sixty years of age. He was short, stout and sinewy, with an uncommonly high and expansive forehead, and so singularly like the celebrated Lewis Cass in appearance, that the fact was immediately remarked by all the party who had ever seen Mr. Cass or his portrait.

The Commissioner traveled in a close carriage, drawn by four fleet and powerful mules. His compagnondevoyage was invariably Dr. Webb, who could never be induced to mount a horse. The inside of the carriage was well supplied with Colt’s and Sharp’s rifles, Colt’s pistols, a double-barreled shot gun, lots of ammunition, a spy glass, and a number of small but useful tools. Upon entering this traveling arsenal, old Chipota looked around him with ill-concealed astonishment, which was greatly heightened by Mr. Bartlett preparing the spy-glass, and permitting him to take a good look through it at a distant object. The Indian could hardly credit that the thing he saw so distinctly through the glass was the same object he beheld so dimly with his naked eye. Not until we arrived in camp, however, were his senses brought to the full stand-point of admiration by the rapid discharges and terrific effects of the fire from our repeating rifles and pistols. Looking around with un-dissembled amazement, he said in his own language, as if soliloquizing: “Indaypindahlickoyeeschlangopoohacante.” It was not until years had passed that I became aware of the meaning of these words: but I noted them at the time by asking him to repeat them, and took a memorandum of their sounds. Since then I have discovered that they mean — “These people of the white eyes are wonderful medicine men.”

About two hours after camping, we were joined by four more Lipans, the leader being named Chiquito, a Spanish term, signifying “the little one.” He was tall, thin, sinewy, and had the appearance of having been possessed of more than ordinary powers of endurance. The likeness of this chief to General Jackson was quite as remarkable and striking as that of Chipota to General Cass, and was a general subject of remark. The most prominent member of Chiquito’s escort was a tall, strong, well-made and handsome young Lipan dandy, who rejoiced in the name of Sait-jah, disdaining to be known by any Spanish term. This fellow evidently believed himself of some consequence, and strutted about with a very decided aristocratic bearing. After a short time passed in displaying his colossal proportions, his splendid leopard skin saddle, quiver, leggins, etc., Chipota quietly beckoned to him and the others, and, I suppose, gave them a short account of the wonders he had beheld. His warnings were received with trust by all but Sait-jah, who, like most inexperienced and flattered young men, savage or civilized, preferred to rely on his own experiences. Our party being small, and offering many temptations, I kept a strict but unobserved watch over the Indians, and suspected the tenor of Chipota’s discourse, from his gesticulations. In a few minutes Sait-jah came toward me in a swaggering manner, and said, in broken Spanish: “Our chief says you great medicine; he says your pistol fires six times without reloading; he says you bring the trees which are afar off close to the eye, so you can count the leaves; he says your guns reach a great way, and never miss; he says a great many other wonderful things, which I cannot believe. You have bewitched him.” Drawing a six-shooter from my belt, I pointed out a tree about seventy-five yards distant, and commenced firing rapidly. Each shot struck the tree, and blazed off large fragments of the bark. Sait-jah was astonished at the power of the weapon, and made no attempt to conceal his surprise; but his admiration broke out into emphatic expression when he witnessed the precision and reach of our Sharp’s rifles, and the rapidity with which they could be loaded and fired. His pride had evidently received a heavy fall, and his lofty bearing was toned down to the level of his white visitors.

In my possession was the miniature of a young lady, whose many graces of person, cultivated mind and amiable disposition, rendered her one of the most lovable of Boston’s fairest daughters. Sait-jah happened to see this picture, and asked permission to take a good look at the pleasant features. The miniature was placed in his hand, and his eyes seemed to devour its expressive lineaments. Throughout the remainder of that day this Indian bored me with frequent requests for another look, and the next morning, so soon as the camp was astir, he offered me his bow, arrows and splendid leopard skin for the picture. These offers being refused, he then added his horse, and whatever other property he might have, for its possession; but, finding me deaf to his entreaties, he took one long, last look, vaulted on his horse, set off at full speed and rapidly disappeared in the distance.

The Lipans are a numerous and warlike tribe, roaming over a vast extent of country, and perpetually at war with the Comanches, Kaddos, and other tribes of Western Texas. Since acquiring the Apache language, I have discovered that they are a branch of that great tribe — speaking identically the same language, with the exception of a few terms and names of things existing in their region and not generally known to those branches which inhabit Arizona and New Mexico. The Mescalero Apaches, in their search for buffaloes, frequently meet the Lipans, and always on the best of terms. No conflicts are known to have ever occurred between them; but they act in concert against the Comanches, and all other tribes. All the remarks on the Apache race, which will be found in the succeeding pages of this work, apply with equal force to the Lipans, with the exception of their tribal organization, the Lipans having regular chiefs, whom they obey on all occasions, and whose acts are final; while the Apaches are pure democrats, each warrior being his own master, and submitting only to the temporary control of a chief elected for the occasion.

As no other Indians were encountered until after our arrival at Paso del Norte, the remainder of our journey with its many incidents, sufferings and dangers, will not be expatiated upon in this work, which is solely dedicated to descriptions of Indian life.