Wounded Knee The dust plumed from our tyres down the dirt road to the Pine Ridge Reservation. The oncoming trucks produced a burnt sienna haze dauntless as the afternoon’s heat. We made an act of faith and plunged on through, trusting the road to lead us on. Then as we entered Indian land we saw the stark brown sign pointing us toward Wounded Knee. Passing shacky homes with rusting pickups, we travelled fifty miles straight. Arriving we saw only the great red sign outlining in white words the terrible deeds that led to one hundred and forty six men, women and children of the Lakota people laying dead on the wintry ground. We walked up the track to the cemetery on the hill and saw the medicine bundles and the grave stones. To come to Wounded Knee is to see nothing other than red deeds and painful words and know that here ended the ghost dancers and the armed resistance of the Lakota people. Yet we could hear the blood crying shame from the earth and the second siege; occupiers calling for reperation after long years of tears and grief. We left, but part of us remains buried at wounded knee and waits to rise again when the voice of this earth is heard once more.
Part Two
The world changes and people change. That is, at least, what we hope, as long as it is for the better. I grew up with this notion of progress. As a child of the Sixties it seemed that we were on a non stop trajectory towards a better world, a modern utopia.
The next stage of our journey through the American Midwest challenged all these ideas at a gut wrenching level and asked Tom and I some profound questions about the way we as humans fail to see and hear each other when we make cultural ( or dare I say it imperial) assumptions that are never tested by curious and genuine dialogue with real people.
We had driven on from Fort Laramie though the endless prairie and crossed the state line between Wyoming and South Dakota entering Rapid City, our home for the next three nights. This part of South Dakota has so much to see and we did not want to miss anything. When I was guiding on David Whyte’s Lakeland walking tour I was lucky enough to meet a number of wonderful Americans who gave me loads of hints and tips for our trip and so we had a comprehensive itinerary. Firstly, we set off for the Badlands National Park, an area that immediately reminded us of the South West - Arizona or New Mexico, full of eroded buttes and pinnacles in creamy sandstone. It was hot, around 40 degrees centigrade, but also incredibly impressive and photogenic.
We could not, however, escape the reality we had encountered at Fort Laramie. Land always has a history and in this region it is often harsh. In 1868, at the Second Treaty of Fort Laramie, the United States assured the Lakota that the Badlands would forever belong to them. In 1889, however, the treaty was broken and the Badlands were confiscated by the United States and unilaterally incorporated into a national park.
At this time the Lakota Indians practiced the Ghost Dance in this area and this scared the incomers, something I will come back to. Suffice to say it was a powerful evocation of the independence of the Lakota and their rights to live unmolested. As we researched this region we realised that we were caught up in an ongoing story. In 1980, the U.S. Supreme Court awarded compensation to the Lakota for the abrogation of the 1868 treaty, but the Lakota did not accept the money, which is reputed to have amounted to a billion dollars. The reason? They wanted the land back.
‘The strength of a tree, the old ones say, comes not from growing thicker in the good years when there is water, but from staying alive in the bad, dry times.’
Joseph M. Marshall III in The Journey of Crazy Horse
When we pulled away from the visitor centre I gave Tom a choice. We could either carry on the astonishingly scenic root back to Rapid City with great overlooks and build outs from which to view the landscape or we could head to Wounded Knee. The journey would be across the Pine Ridge Reservation and was a good 200 hundred mile round trip. He responded immediately: ‘yes we should go Dad, it’s important’. Wounded Knee rang an ominous note in both our memories. I had read Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee when I was younger1 and so remembered that this was the site of a terrible massacre and marked the end of the so called Indian Wars. Tom being a voracious reader of history also knew what the site signified.
As we drove away from the Badlands our SatNav (GPS) took us onto a 40 mile dirt road. These are unmade roads of gravel and chippings and as you traverse them you raise clouds of dust and dirt. The real kicker was when we met construction trucks coming in the opposite direction throwing out dark clouds of thick brown smut. It was unnerving to drive through, hoping you were continuing in a straight line and still on the road. We then followed the sign for the Pine Ridge Reservation and thankfully better roads.
As we entered the Reservation we began to notice the small homesteads, mainly trailers, usually with an old vehicle out front. On the journey we were listening to an audiobook of Joseph M. Marshall’s The Journey of Crazy Horse and telling us about Wounded Knee. The quote mentioned above hit us very powerfully. The times we were hearing of were bad, dry times. We also realised that the times today, given the obvious deprivation, may not be much better.
Pine Ridge, we had read, was the site of several events that mark milestones in the history between the Lakota and the U.S. government. Stronghold Table—a mesa in what is today the Lakota part of the Badlands was the site of the last of the Ghost Dances. These were rituals based on the teachings of the Paiute spiritual leader Wovoka from the North Western USA. His ideas spread like wildfire among the Indian peoples as they invoked the spirits of their dead and the eradicated Bison who would return and with them their cherished way of life.2
A development of the Ghost Dance was the wearing of ghost shirts, which were special clothing for warriors. Perhaps they would repel bullets? The Lakota interpretation drew from their belief in a renewed Earth in which all evil is washed away. This Lakota interpretation included the removal of all European Americans from their lands. 3
They told the people they could dance a new world into being. There would be landslides, earthquakes, and big winds. Hills would pile up on each other. The earth would roll up like a carpet with all the white man's ugly things – the stinking new animals, sheep and pigs, the fences, the telegraph poles, the mines and factories. Underneath would be the wonderful old-new world as it had been before the white fat-takers came. ...The white men will be rolled up, disappear, go back to their own continent.
— Lame Deer
The U.S. authorities' attempt to repress this movement eventually led to the Wounded Knee Massacre on a cold winter day of the 29th of December 1890. A mixed band of Miniconjou Lakota and Hunkpapa Lakota, led by Chief Spotted Elk, sought sanctuary at Pine Ridge after fleeing the Standing Rock Agency, where Sitting Bull had been killed during efforts to arrest him. The families were intercepted and attacked by a heavily armed detachment of the Seventh Cavalry, which killed many women and children as well as warriors. This was the last large engagement between U.S. forces and Native Americans and marked the end of the western frontier.4
What was most apparent as we drove was that the culture and life of the Lakota people was still very much alive, it has weathered all these storms. Their language is still extant and spoken, though the counties that make up the reservation are some of the poorest in the US. Was saw that there is now the Oglala Lakota College, a tribal college, which offers 4-year degrees and a good education. Our respect for that culture was growing as we traveled. Not that we in anyway think we can understand a culture just by visiting, but we did seek to learn and appreciate and honour a culture which white people have done so much harm to.
After over 50 miles of almost arrow straight road we arrived at the Massacre Site. The sun was high in the cobalt blue sky and we pulled up in front of a large red sign with white text on either side of it. It was hot as we stepped out of the air conditioned car to be greeted by a small Indian girl offering us small trinkets of jewellery. We declined but gave her a donation. Then we we began to read the sign:
Massacre of Wounded Knee
‘On Dec, 29, 1890, Chief Big Foot, with his Minneconjou and Hunkpapa Sioux Band of 106 warriors, 250 women and children, were encamped on this Flat, surrounded by the US 7th Cavalry (470 soldiers), commanded by Col. Forsythe.
The “Messiah Craze” possessed many Indians, who left the vicinity of the agencies to “Ghost Dance” during the Summer and Fall of 1890. “Unrest” on the Pine Ridge Reservation was partly due to the reduction of beef rations by Congress and to the “Ghost Dancing” of Chiefs Sitting Bull, Hump, Kicking Bear and Short Bull. The Sioux were told by Kicking Bear and Short Bull that by wearing the “Ghost Shirts”, the ghost dancing warriors would become immune to the white man’s bullets and could openly defy the soldiers and white settlers, and bring back the big buffalo herds.
On the Nov. 15, 1890, Indian Agent Royer (Lakota Wokokpa) at Pine Ridge called for troops, and by Dec 1, 1890, several thousands US Regulars were assembled in this area of Dakota territory.
On Dec.15,1890, Chief Sitting Bull was killed by Lt. Bullhead of the Standing Rock Indian Police. Forty of Sitting Bull’s braves escaped from Grand River and joined Big Foot’s band on Deep Creek, to camp and “Ghost Dance” on the south fork of the Cheyenne River. Chief Big Foot was in close scrutiny of Lt. Col. Sumner and his troops, and on Dec, 23, 1890, they were ordered to arrest Big Foot as a Hostile. However, the Big Foot band had already silently slipped away from the Cheyenne country, into the Badlands, heading for Pine Ridge.
On Dec, 28, 1890, without a struggle, Chief Big Foot surrendered to the US 7th Cavalry (Maj. Whitesides) at the site marked by a sign five miles north of here. The band was then escorted to Wounded Knee, camping that night under guard.
Reinforcements of the US 7th Cavalry (including one company Indian Scouts) arrived at Wounded Knee from Pine Ridge Agency the morning of Dec, 29, 1890. Col. Forsythe took command of a force of 470 men. A battery of four Hotchkiss guns was placed on the hill 400 feet west of here, overlooking the Indian encampment. Big Foot’s Band was encircled at 9.00am by a line if foot soldiers and cavalry. Chief Big Foot, sick with pneumonia, lay in a warmed tent provided by Col. Forsyth in the centre of the camp. A white flag flew there, placed by the Indians. Directly in the rear of the Indian Camp was a dry draw, running east and west.
The Indians were ordered to surrender their arms before proceeding to Pine Ridge. Cap. Wallace, with an army detail, began searching the teepees for hidden weapons. During this excitement, Yellow Bird, a medicine man, walked among the braves, blowing on an eagle bone whistle, inciting the warriors to act, declaring that the “Ghost Shirts” worn by the warriors would protect them from the soldier’s bullets. A shot was fired and all hell broke loose. The troops fired a deadly volley into the Council warriors, killing nearly half of them. A bloody hand-to-hand struggle followed, all the more desperate since the Indians were armed mostly with clubs, knives, and revolvers. The Hotchkiss guns fired 2-pound explosive shells on the groups, indiscriminately killing warriors, women, children, and their own disarming soldiers. Soldiers were killed by cross-fire of their comrades in this desperate engagement.
Surviving Indians stampeded in wild disorder for the shelter of the draw 200 feet to the south, escaping west and east in the draw, and north down Wounded Knee Creek. Pursuit by the 7th Calvary resulted in the killing of more men, women and children, causing the battle to be referred to as the “Wounded Knee Massacre”. One hour later, 146 Indian men, women, and children lay dead in Wounded Knee Creek valley. The bodies of many were scattered along a distance of two miles from the encounter. Twenty soldiers were killed on the field, and sixteen later died of wounds. Wounded soldiers and Indians alike were taken to the Pine Ridge Agency. A blizzard came up. Four days later, an army detail gathered up the Indian dead and buried them in a common grave at the top of hill Northwest of here. A monument marks this grave.
“Ghost Dancing” ended with this encounter. The Wounded Knee Battlefield is the site of the last armed conflict between the Sioux Indians and the United States Army.
Reading these red words under the silent blue sky created a deep sense of tragedy and reverie. The fact that there was no slick visitor centre, just a little stall selling Indian Jewellery and a branch covered canopy made the whole site feel even more stark. We noticed the cemetery on a hill just across the road and we quietly made our way up the path. The small memorial marked the mass grave the Indian dead were put into. There were other graves around it and and many medicine bundles and tributes placed on the ground. We paid out respects and walked back towards the car.
‘When our spirit tells us it is time to weep, we should weep. It is part of the ritual, if you will, of putting sadness in perspective and gaining control of the situation. ... Grief has a purpose. Grieving does not mean you are weak It is the first step toward regaining balance and strength. Grieving is part of the tempering process.’
Joseph M. Marshall III
As we drove away the haunting atmosphere pervaded our journey back to Rapid City. Tom began to recall that this wasn’t the last conflict to occur at Wounded Knee. In 1973 there was an occupation of the site by a number of Lakota and followers of the American Indian Movement (AIM). The latter being a civil rights organisation looking to forward the rites of American Indians. What was initially a dispute about Tribal Presidency became a siege and stand off with the United States Marshall Service and the FBI lasting 71 days. There were deaths on either side and subsequent arrests and trials. Leonard Peltier an American Indian activist remains in prison to this day. Amnesty International issued a call to President Biden to grant clemency to him last February .Read more here
As I said at the beginning of this post this place challenges the idea that we learn from our actions. Yet the resilience and perseverance of the Lakota and those who have become their allies and supporters reveals an ability that is deep within us when we listen to the cries of history and enter a curious and genuine dialogue with each other.
That night I began to form the poem at the head of this post and work on it over subsequent days. As some of you who read this are from the USA - friends from various places, I know that I am commenting as an outsider and probably miss some of the nuances of these issues. So forgive us. We are only recording our reactions as we made our journey across this extraordinary country and incredible landscape that sits in the imagination long after you leave it. We are also not all blind to the role of our own country in many colonial tragedies, not least in the USA. I hope the poem and these thoughts and photos are a tiny finger pressing on the arc of the moral universe.
“the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
Martin Luther King
Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee by Dee Brown - Vintage; 1st edition 1987
It is easy to make some of these comments but in fact it is always a form of conjecture as no-one knows the dynamics of a culture apart from those who are its inheritors. So we apply these pinches of salt to all we read and what we surmise.
Again these comments are conjecture but I think they do express some of the feeling of the times.
Thanks to Wikipedia for some of this information. Searched under Wounded Knee Massacre, The Pine Ridge Reservation and the Ghost Dance and Dee Brown’s book.
This is a great post. While I'm saddened by continued atrocities around the globe, I do feel optimism that we are, in totality, moving in better directions. There are far few places where slavery exists, each generation. There are bright lights on atrocities that sometimes brings justice, and/or inhibits those who would commit evil acts. It feels very slow to us, as we live through the middle of such changes. I do feel better when I look at the globe's history in 50-year and 100-year blocks of time.
Adrian-- I have enjoyed your posts and photos. (We met during the Lakes tour this summer). Thank you for visiting Wounded Knee & Pine Ridge, and writing an honest reflection. While I have read much of the history, I haven’t made the physical journey. How fortunate for you and Scott to take the time to road-trip together.