Women and Children

Army officers' wives interacted directly with Indian women in a variety of ways but many of these encounters reveal cross-cultural understanding which surpassed pre-conceived ideas about race and civilized society. In mid-April, 1877, Angeline Johnson, along with two other officers' wives, paid a call on Red Cloud's wife, identifying her in the Anglo tradition, as Mrs. Red Cloud. Mrs. Johnson's husband was acting agent at the Red Cloud agency. Red Cloud was an important war and civil leader of the Oglalas who had led his people to the agency near Fort Robinson. Paying a visit to Red Cloud's wife, Pretty Owl, in her tipi home, was the proper social custom of middle-class women. Angeline found Pretty Owl in mourning for the death of her niece and "not well." We don't know Pretty Owl's response, but Johnson was interested in the mourning customs and was pleased to have entered a tipi for the first time. (Johnson, p. 92)

Figure 2. A child stands near Red Cloud's tipi near Fort Robinson in 1895. Presumably Angeline Johnson's visit to Pretty Owl took place in a similar setting. Courtesy Nebraska Historical Society Photographic Collection RG 4488.PH.O.3.

A similar cultural encounter occurred at Fort Abraham Lincoln when the wives of the Arikara scouts approached the Custers' quarters and honored them with a dance. Libbie characteristically referred to the dance as "mummery," but, minding her manners and her role as the wife of the commanding officer, walked onto the porch to thank them. (Custer, Boots and Saddles, p. 101)

The wife of Iron Bull, a Crow woman of high standing, called on Elizabeth Burt at Fort C. F. Smith one spring day in 1867. She was dressed for a social visit in her best buckskin dress and had her daughter Pinahawney and several other women with her. Burt thought that they wanted to see her sister, assuming that Indians would be fascinated by her blond hair. The interpreter told Burt, however, that they had come to see the new Burt baby and wanted to hold it. Cautiously, Elizabeth watched as the women "held the little one . . . and with an admiring smile and comments passed her to the next [woman]." After each woman had held the baby, they then asked to see Elizabeth's dresses. Elizabeth agreed, believing this interest to be universal in women whose "curiosity was aroused to see the clothing and modes of living so different from their own." (Burt, pp. 169–171) Burt explained this visit in terms of her whiteness and strangeness to the Crow women. Her own curiosity about the Crow women was, however, tempered by her concern about their personal cleanliness and the reputation the Crows had for thievery. (Burt, p. 158)

Sarah Canfield had an experience that was similar to that of Elizabeth Burt's. A sensitive observer, Canfield learned a lot about herself and her position as a newcomer to the Plains. As she walked with her husband through a village near Fort Berthold, nearly one hundred small children began to follow them. Much to her surprise, Sarah discovered that I was a curiousity to them for often they ran in front of us and peering into my face which was somewhat hidden by my Sunbonnet, then dodge back laughing and chattering as though it was great fun. (Canfield, p. 67) Children formed a common ground for mothers of all ethnicities, but children were also able, through their innocence, to convey a message that would likely have been misunderstood if presented by an adult.

Officers' wives took a strong interest in the Indian childcare customs. Elizabeth Burt came to know the wife and daughter of Iron Bull well enough to learn a little about how the little girl had been raised. "I cannot say that Indians ever indulge in caresses," she wrote. "I never saw a mother kiss her child. Neither have I ever seen one punished." The child, Pinahawney, was devoted to her mother, "though there was no demonstration." Burt believed that Crow mothers taught their children "to control their emotions." (Burt, pp. 171, 173)

Figure 3. Photograph of Iron Crow and his wife taken at Wounded Knee in 1897. Officers' wives often pitied Indian women, but also admired their mothering skills and endurance. Courtesy Nebraska Historical Society Photographic Collection RG4488.PH.0.8.

Katie Gibson was charmed by the young Arikara children who peered into her Fort Rice window one Christmas Eve. She invited them in, gave them presents, and the leftovers from her party including cake, ice-cream, and hot chocolate. The children were pleased with the treats so they danced for her in return. She sent them home with warm clothing and blankets as well as a few little toys. She thoughtfully alerted the guard that the children would be passing through the gate in order to avoid a tragic mistake. Though she was kind and delighted in the children's presence, she pitied them, thinking that their parents were neglectful. (Fougera, p. 242)

The plight of Indian children often evoked an emotional response in the officers' wives who had close contact with them. At Fort Robinson, Angeline Johnson watched from her quarters as the Cheyenne escaped from the guard house igniting a battle in which men, women, and children were killed and wounded. Johnson's husband brought a badly wounded infant to Angeline for care. The child's mother had been killed and in the chaos there was no one to care for the infant. After the post surgeon dressed the wounds, Angeline cared for the baby, fed it, and turned it over to a Cheyenne woman the next day. Angeline "felt a real interest in [the baby] after taking care of it" and was "quite sick" when she later learned that the child had died. Johnson's emotions were probably complicated by the death of her own infant (and only child) a few months earlier. (Johnson, p. 95)

Babies helped form bonds among people who usually saw themselves as antagonists. Katie Gibson related two stories about kindness between adults over their mutual concerns for children. In one case, her husband was involved in transporting Indians to a reservation. After a woman had given birth along the trail, Frank Gibson brought her water and arranged a place for her in an Army ambulance so she would not have to walk. Years later, the baby's father brought two beaver skins as a gift to the Gibsons' own baby. (Fougera, p. 211)

Gibson also told of a grieving mother at Fort Rice who had gone to the post cemetery to tend her baby's grave. The cemetery also served the Arikara scouts and their families. Mrs. Hart was startled to see an Indian man in the cemetery dressed for battle visiting the grave of someone important to him. He asked about her child, and then walked her back to the post. She invited him into her house and offered him food. She made sure that the guards did not detain him because "the man had not harmed her in any way, but rather, had shown her great respect and kindness." (Fougera, p. 247–248)

Indian children were not subject to the stereotyping and demonizing typical of racially divided societies. Army women forgot their fear of Indians when babies brought the two cultures together. A baby requires care from an adult, and few adults could refuse to attend to a child's needs. However, children, along with women and adult men, were killed in the Army's attacks on Indian villages. That fact troubled some Army women and left them questioning the process of conquest. When Katie Garrett (Gibson) was visiting her sister at Fort Abraham Lincoln, she listened as Libbie Custer and other wives of the Seventh Cavalry talked about the Battle of the Washita. In that 1868 event, Custer and his troops attacked a peaceful village of Cheyenne under the leadership of Black Kettle killing 103 women, children, and men. Katie found this story appalling, [and] it confused my sense of justice. Doubtless the white men were right, but were the Indians entirely wrong? After all these broad prairies had belonged to them. (Fougera, p. 125)

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