Post by Dietmar on Feb 17, 2009 14:33:00 GMT -5
Bob Brave Bear by David. F. Barry
Here is the interesting story of Bob Brave Bear, a Yanktonai, who was sentenced to death for murder in 1882. Early as 1974 he had been accused of murdering members of a mixed-blood Chippewa/Ojibwa family in Pembina County in North Dakota. He managed to flee from jail in late 1878. Some sources say he fled to Canada and joined Sitting Bull. If so, it is unclear when he came back because in 1879 he was said to had kill a settler at Standing Rock while stealing horses with a party of other Indians. Finally Brave Bear also murdered an ex-soldier named Johnson later that year. For that crime he was convicted and tried. Brave Bear was hanged on November 15, 1882.
I wonder if there is an Indian side of the story. To whom was he related?
This is the New York Times article of May 28, 1882:
Bob Brave Bear by David. F. Barry
In Standing Rock Agent John McLaughlin´s book “My friend the Indian” there is a whole chapter about this affair:
CHAPTER IV
BRAVE BEAR AND THE ONLY ONE
Notable Indian Crimes The Slaying of the DeLormes Ghastly
Forms of Indian Mourning How One Elk held his Father-in-Law.
"HEN Brave Bear was hanged for his crime,
his father, an old Indian of the Cut Head
band of Sioux, came and sought me out
at the agency.
"Is my son dead?" asked the father.
I was nonplussed, for it was not given me to carry
on without feeling a conversation with a father about
a son who was hanged the day before. But I had to
make the best of it. The old man was very earnest
and not at all angry though he might have charged
me with trying to rid the world of Brave Bear long
before he was finally overtaken by the fate that was
appointed him from the beginning.
"He is dead," I answered.
"Are you sure he is dead ?" persisted the old man.
" I have a telegram saying that he was hanged yes-
terday," said I.
"It is well," rejoined the old man. 'We are glad,
his mother and myself, for he was a bad son."
And this frightful declaration was as near eulogium
as was ever pronounced on Brave Bear, a murderer
and habitual criminal - - which few of his tribe have
been. They have been guilty of deeds of blood, but
none of them were sneaking murderers for a little
gain, as Brave Bear was. Even The Only One
whose distinctive appellation might have pointed him
out as a notable exception to the common run of his
people, and whose hands were imbrued in blood
spilled for gain - - was a very decent sort compared
to his companion in crime, Brave Bear. And he es-
caped the ignominy of the death that was the portion
of Brave Bear, dying in a desperate attempt to escape
after the most sensational sort of capture, and being
mourned in the most heart-breaking and barbarous
way by his wife, one of the handsomest women of the
Sioux nation - - a people not wanting in women with
physical attractions.
Brave Bear was a sort of Indian dude. The Only
One was quite the contrary - - by no means the dis-
tinguished individual that the hopes or fancy of his
parents painted when they gave him a name that
indicated how high a place he had in their esteem.
Brave Bear always had plenty of clothes, cheap jew-
elry, all the things that go to make the dandy at an
Indian agency - - or did go to make such a personage
in the days when civilized garb was not so common
as it is now. How he maintained his well-dressed
habit I don't know, but suppose from his finish that
it was not by honest means. These men were not
much given to living close to the reservations, but
roamed about the settlements a great deal. They
might have lived by thievery.
In any event they attained distinction in the field
of high crime, when they found it to their purpose to
commit a frightful butchery while engaged in robbing
a settler named DeLorme, near Pembina, North
Dakota, in 1873. They had entered a stable for the
purpose of stealing horses, and when two of the owners
arrived on the scene, they shot and killed both, and a
third man was mortally wounded. In the house were
two women, and the Indians attacked them, shooting
and wounding both of them. One of the women put
up her hands to defend herself from a blow aimed at
her head by Brave Bear, who carried a sword, and
who struck her with it. The blow cut off one of her
fingers, laid open her scalp, and stretched her appar-
ently dead ; but she recovered, as did the other wo-
man. Brave Bear and The Only One rifled the place,
stole several horses, and escaped to the Missouri
River country, passing through Devils Lake reserva-
tion, where I then was. As soon as I learned of the
tragedy, I was convinced that Brave Bear and The
Only One were of the party who had perpetrated the
crime. They kept away from Devils Lake agency;
but, having learned the facts of the murder from
trustworthy Indians, I reported them to the proper
authorities.
I heard nothing of them for several years ; but one
day in the winter of 1878 word was brought to me
that they had arrived at Devils Lake and were living
among the Cut Head Sioux at the west end of the
reservation. Everything pointed to them as the au-
thors of the butchery at Pembina. It was common
knowledge among the Indians that they had com-
mitted the crime, but the people were afraid to in-
terfere with them. They were bad men, whose pre-
sence among the Indians and impudent indifference
to the authorities were demoralizing. Having con-
vinced myself by inquiry that there was no doubt
of their guilt, I made arrangements to capture them
in the early spring, before their ponies were in condi-
tion for them to start out on their usual summer raids.
The capture, to be made without bloodshed, must
be effected by surprise, and it must not fail, for with
the Indian, even more than with the white man, no-
thing succeeds like success. It would be useless to
attempt to take the men in their camp. They would
assuredly fight, and that was not necessary. But they
were very shy of coming to the agency. The only
thing to do was to call a council of their band. They
could not absent themselves from this without mak-
ing themselves too conspicuous for safety, and once
in the agency council-room we might handle them.
At the time two troops of the Seventh Cavalry,
Ouster's old command, was in garrison at Fort Tot-
ten. I conferred with Captain James M. Bell, now
Brigadier General Bell, retired, who commanded the
post, and arranged with him for the necessary troops
when needed.
Planting time was approaching, and I sent out a
call for a council, to which all adult male members
of the Cut Head band were invited, and required to
attend; the ostensible object of the council being to
ascertain the acreage of land each family intended
to cultivate that year, so as to determine the quantity
of seed needed. The council was to be held in the
assembly hall, which was on the second floor of the
main building of the agency group. In the rear was
my office. The door to this was to be guarded by
employees of the agency, with one of the more mus-
cular at each of the two front windows, Thomas J.
Reedy guarding one window and Frank Cavanaugh
the other. It was arranged to have an armed squad
of dismounted soldiers paraded behind the garrison
buildings, where they could not be seen from the
agency, so that when Brave Bear and The Only One
had entered the council-room the detail would, upon
a prearranged signal, double-quick to the agency,
file up the stairs, and secure the two Indians.
The plan worked, after a great deal of waiting and
more than an even chance of failure. Every other
Cut Head Sioux then on the reservation was seated
in the room before Brave Bear and The Onlv One
put in an appearance. They seemed to feel that they
were taking some sort of chance, and only the fact
that their absence would make them conspicuous
brought them in finally. Brave Bear came in first
and was not disturbed. Then came The Only One,
who cautiously ascended the stairway; and as soon
as he had entered the hall James Stitsell, agency har-
ness-maker, who was stationed outside for the pur-
pose, signaled the garrison, and Lieutenant Herbert
J. Slocum, U. S. A., now a major of cavalry, coming
from the post with a detail of eight men, in double-
quick time, closed in on the landing, filed up the stair-
way rapidly, and before the soldiers had reached the
head of the stairs leading into the room, The Only
One knew that he was trapped. He bounded through
the council-room and made for a door leading into
the office, which was in the north end, with the evident
intention of escaping through a window ; but his way
was barred there by John E. Kennedy, agency clerk,
and George H. Faribault, agency farmer, whereupon
he rushed back toward where I was standing, near
the front door, and being pointed out to Lieutenant
Slocum, was soon in the hands of the soldiers.
The other Indians were tremendously excited, but
I soon quieted them by announcing that no others
were to be molested, and most of them knew that
Brave Bear and The Only One were guilty of mur-
der. There was no interference by the assembled In-
dians, and the men were taken downstairs, The Only
One going first between a couple of soldiers, and
Brave Bear following. They passed out of the hall
and down the stairway, which was on the outside of
the south front of the building, and the foot of which
was only a few feet from the southeast corner. Neither
of the prisoners was bound, as it was not thought
that any attempt at escape would be made. As they
reached the corner of the building, The Only One
made up his mind to take a desperate chance. It was
only about twenty-five yards to the rear of the build-
ing. Once around the corner he could afford to take
a chance on being shot down, and there was the open
country - - which he had occupied in defiance of ar-
rest for so long - - before him. To refuse the chance
meant incarceration, and almost certain death. The
Only One did not stop long to think about the chances.
He took them. With one bound he was out from
between the files of soldiers. A few more bounds took
him around the corner of the building, and he was
off for the open country. The soldiers of his guard
were astonished for a moment, then took after the
fugitive, who had slipped out of his blanket and was
running free. In the meantime Brave Bear was closed
in on. The officer in charge, Lieutenant Slocum,
drew his pistol and stepped up beside the man. The
rest of the guard was ordered to the pursuit of
the runaway. Slocum was not taking any chances
on Brave Bear, but he wanted to be in with the
chase.
"Here, Jack," he cried to J. E. Kennedy, agency
clerk, "you take my pistol and hold this fellow, will
you ? while I go with my men."
:< Not me," said Kennedy; "I haven't lost any
Indians."
And Slocum had to hold his own prisoner. He
landed him in the guardhouse.
The Only One was then far on the road to freedom.
He was giving an exhibition of sprinting that has not
been seen on that prairie since. Anticipating that the
soldiers would not hesitate to shoot at him, he ran,
bounding high and jumping sideways every jump.
Once off the agency grounds, he had a very good
chance of getting away. There were sloughs to the
west that would hide a pursued man, and beyond
there was open ground that would subsist an Indian,
especially if he had no moral scruples about other
people's property; and there was comparative safety
at the western agencies. The hostiles were still out in
the Northwest, and Sitting Bull was not the man to
ask a fugitive who came to him if he had blood on
his hands, or to hold it against him if he knew that
he had killed a white man or woman. He would be
comparatively safe if he could even reach the camp
of the Cut Heads at the west end of the Devils Lake
reservation, for there were horses to be had there.
And he was making a run for his life.
The soldiers were rather anxious to get the man and
needed no urging to open fire on him and very bad
practice they made of it, though the mark presented
by The Only One was not so easy to hit as a target
might have been ; and they expended a great quantity
of ammunition uselessly until the sergeant, one of
those grizzled non-coms who were common enough
on the frontier at that time, and are very scarce now,
more 's the pity ! took a hand in the game. He dropped
on one knee, took careful aim, and fired. The Only
One dropped with a ball in his thigh. The soldiers
ran up toward him, thinking he was hors de combat.
In a moment The Only One made up his mind that
his time had come, and that he might better die fight-
ing than on the scaffold. He stood up, and the men
saw that he had his knife in his hand. With fright-
ful screams, part of agony from his wound and part
the prompting of his enraged spirits, he ran at the
men, his shattered thigh causing him to run lame
at every other step. He was intent on getting at the
soldiers and forcing them to kill him. The old ser-
geant saw what the man intended, and he concluded
that it was time to put him out of business, - - that
winging The Only One would do no good. Down he
went on his knee again, and there was no wavering
in his aim. His bullet found the heart of The Only
One, and he dropped dead.
The Cut Heads were greatly excited still, and the
relatives of The Only One particularly so. One young
brave, a brother of Brave Bear, thinking that the en-
tire family might be apprehended on general prin-
ciples, made off to the northwest while The Only
One was being pursued. Some mounted soldiers from
the post, thinking he was wanted too, started after
him. The Indian made good headway, but was pretty
well exhausted, and might have been captured pre-
sently but that he ran into a slough. Burying himself
in the mud and weeds, he eluded his pursuers until
it was found that he was not the man wanted, and
they were called off. But it was many a day before
he could be induced to come into the agency.
This occurred on Saturday evening, and the fol-
lowing Monday, being ration-day, all of the Indians
came in for their rations. With them came the wife
and the mother of The Only One. I have, as I said,
seen Indians give frightful expression to their mourn-
ing sentiments, but the grief shown by those two wo-
men was awful in its manifestations. The wife of
The Only One was a magnificently proportioned and
handsome woman. Her beauty was something to be
talked of. When I was called out by the wailing of
the women they presented a shocking sight. It was
customary for the widow of a recently deceased In-
dian to disfigure herself, to demonstrate that her grief
was boundless and that she had no regard for her
appearance now that the husband was dead. They
would nearly always cut off their hair without regard
to uniformity as to length, and also usually scarify
themselves.
The wife of The Only One did not stop at the or-
dinary manifestations of grief. She was a ghastly
sight when I found her with her mother-in-law, the
two crying out incoherent words of endearment and
grief, relating the many good qualities of the dead
man as a husband and son, for the taint of blood is
not to the detriment of an Indian man's standing in
his family, or was not in those days. The younger
woman had torn nearly all the clothing from her
body. She had cut off the hair from her entire head,
and much of it she had torn out by the roots. Her
breasts were hacked and gashed with a knife. She
had cut great gashes in the lower part of each leg,
from the knees to the ankles ; she was streaming with
blood and was an awful sight. The mother had gone
almost as far in the expression of her woe, and had
deliberately chopped off the little finger of her left
hand, which among the Sioux at that time was a
common expression of mourning for a relative killed.
I don't think that grief could be made to wear a more
horrid front than it did that day among the relatives
of the dead murderer. This awful practice of maim-
ing one's self as evidence of affection for the dead
is one of the things that the Sioux have given up in
a great measure under the restraining influences of
civilization and Christianity; though the grief of the
Indian is still clamorous, at least so far as the women
are concerned. I have, on more than one occasion,
found a family engaged in great lamentation, the
women throwing ashes on their heads and wailing
at the tops of their voices, and, upon inquiring, have
been told that the mourning was for somebody who
had been dead a year or two. Something had oc-
curred, as a meeting of relatives who had been parted
and who had not hitherto had opportunity to make
common cause in mourning.
But to return to Brave Bear : he was not permitted
to escape from the military guardhouse. This was
rather to my astonishment, for I had not much faith
in the capacity of the guardians of that noteworthy
military institution to hold an Indian prisoner. I
had taken chances on Brave Bear and The Only One
remaining on the reservation during the winter, ra-
ther than commit them sooner to the custody of the
soldiers with the moral certainty of their escape be-
fore spring. My experiences in the past had not
inspired me with any great respect for the holding
capacity of the post guardhouse. But it held Brave
Bear fast enough until the civil authorities took
charge of him. He was taken first to Bismarck and
later to Fargo for trial, and the case against him was
complete enough. When he was arraigned for trial,
the two women who had survived the murderous at-
tack on the DeLorme family fully identified him as
one of the assailants. I was called as a witness, and
it was expected that a speedy conviction would be
had. But even in those days the Indian had come
to an appreciation of the quibbles that make loop-
holes in the white man's law. The case had not pro-
ceeded beyond the first forenoon when the counsel
appointed for the defense moved for the dismissal
of the indictment on the ground that the court had
no jurisdiction ; that the crime alleged to have been
committed was stated to have been committed in
Pembina County, where there was a duly organized
tribunal for the adjudication of offenses, criminal
and civil. The point was sustained by the court, the
indictment dismissed, and Brave Bear sent up to
Pembina for trial. He was put in the jail at Pembina,
and one morning he was missing. With him went
the horse of the jailer. Brave Bear declared after-
wards that his medicine was good and had liberated
him; that he had simply invoked the power of his
medicine and floated up through the roof of the jail.
As to the disappearance of the jailer's horse, why,
that might have been a part of the medicine.
With the speed with which the Indian can move
when he is put to it, Brave Bear made his way down
through the territory to the Pine Ridge reservation.
I believe he found things too hot for him there, or he
longed for the fleshpots of the Cut Heads, his peo-
ple, on the Standing Rock reservation. In any event
he left Pine Ridge agency with a stolen horse, and
started north. Somewhere above Fort Sully he met
and murdered a man named Johnson. He stripped
the victim of this second crime and put on the dead
man's clothing. In the pocket of the vest he found
$1700 in money. With the dead man's rifle in his
hand, he started across the country. Johnson was
a prominent Odd Fellow, and the members of that
order offered a big reward for the capture of the mur-
derer. The crime was charged to Brave Bear. The
latter eluded pursuit and made his way to the far
Northwest and over into Canada, where he found
asylum with Sitting Bull.
He remained with the old medicine man and ap-
pears to have been of some importance in the band
now greatly decimated in numbers. In the summer
of 1881 Sitting Bull, to the dismay of Brave Bear,
came in and surrendered and was sent to Standing
Rock agency, and Brave Bear had no choice but to
go with him. That fall I took charge at Standing
Rock, and Brave Bear was on the reservation until
the day before my arrival. He knew me and was not
in the humor to take chances on what would happen
when I located him. He had cached, or said he had,
a considerable portion of the money he had robbed
Johnson of, and he took a white man into his con-
fidence so far as the hidden money was concerned,
offering to divide the wealth if the white man would
put him across the Missouri River. The deal was
made, but Brave Bear had lingered too long. Other
men on the reservation had identified him, and they
also knew of the reward that had been offered for his
capture. He was taken across the river by his white
friend and soon after held up by a party of four men
who were on the lookout for him, and Brave Bear was
made a captive for the last time. He was sent to
Yankton, then the capital of Dakota Territory, and
tried for the murder of Johnson. There was no doubt
of his guilt. He was condemned and hanged.
Finally: Was Bob Brave Bear related to this Brave Bear, whom D.F. Barry (or Goff?) photographed: