Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1871-06-16
An Eye-Witness' Narrative of the
Massacre at Cnmp Graat.


An Eye-Wftness' Narrative of the
Massacre at Camp Grant.
From a private letter by an eye-wit.
ness of the Apache horrors in Arizona,
says the Washington City Patriot, we
make the following interesting extracts
Let me explain to you exactly the
circumstances of the massacre. The
Apaches, you know, have always been
considered the most hopeless of Indi-
ans, and have always refused to treat
with the Government, or go on any res
.ervation. The post commander at Camp
Grant Lieutenant Whitman, believing
they could be much improved by a sys-
tematic course of kindness, had gradu-
ally induced five hundred of them, com
mencing with few starving old women,
to come into camp near the post and
accept food and work. Contrary to all
expectation they seemed grateful and
disposed to make terms with the Gov
ernment at last The men were obedi-
ent to the slightest suggestion from
their new found friend, and women and
children seemed gay, happy and con-
tented. He spent hours in explaining
to them, through his interpreter, their
duties to the country, and told them
they would be taken care OF if they
would only be peaceable and indus
trious. They comprehended the situa-
ton at once, and had made brave be-
ginning toward improvement, and were
even clearing the ground to put in
crop of corn. But the notorious Apache
at peace was no good news to the white
adventurers whose living depends en-
tirely on the few thousands of hunted
and Ignorant savages, and accord
ingly party of white men, who prefer
hostile Indians as more lucrative at and
near Tucson, formed the humane plan
of attacking this peaceful camp near us,
and killing every man, woman and child
they could lay hands on. A messenger
was dispatched to Lieutenant Whitman,
telling him his prOteges were in danger,
and he sent Immediately to warn the
friendly red men of their peril. His
messenger was too late-the burning
huts and the ground strewn with bodies
of butchered women and children we're
all that was left of the first earnest at
tempt to civilize the Apaches. 1t was
an awful sight. The survivors had fed
to the Businesses of the mountains. Word
was sent to them to bring in their
wounded to the post for care, and they
did so, the principal chief being the first |
to come in. He was naked, and when |
he held out his hand for the usual shake |
he was so choked he could scarcely |
speak. Almost like human, wasn't it? |
Pointing to his naked and solitary con-
dition, he said: This is my familyr
three wives and seven children being
killed bsfore his eyes in the space of five
minutes. The rest came struggling in
one by one, stripped of their clothing,
their hair pulled out or cut off, and
seemed entirely heartbroken. This
slaughter was the end of their first at |
tempt at accepting the white man pro-
lection.
Bring us back to our children" they
said to the Post Commander, and we
will go away from the white man sight.
Thirty of the young and pretty squaws
had been carried off to debauched cap
tivity. When the Commander told them
he would do all he could it seemed to
them like mockery. The chief said:
If you had lost your children and
asked me to retake them | should have
said no, or should have got them for
you at once, or lost my life in trying to.
Your ways are not our ways, and |
can only say / will do all | can for you"
responded the Commander; you know
what have done for you before"
You know us so well, replied the
chief; you know what our ways are. If
our people are killed, we find the parties
guilty if we can. If not, we kill any !
body we meet, except our sworn friends
know we have never told you a lie,
and you have never lied to us; and now ,
we tell you again we will keep quiet and
see what this great Government of yours )
will do for us. We know, too, that the !
men that killed our kindred do not wish
rs to be at peace, and they hope to
lrive us off. After we wait for !
gour Government, we must have our
revenge If it does not avenge our loss
We will come and tell you, our friend,
before we do anything, that you may not l
,e able to say: Those Apaches that / I
ed, that worked for, whose children 4
,uried that the coyotes might not eat "
hem, lied to me and said they would q
ieep the peace We cannot be at peace I,
Vhen our children are captive and our
antilles killed by our enemies. What c
an be done under such discourage
nents to civilize the Indians Among 1
people who make more money off his b
than when at peace, how can s, 3
ny Outstanding process succeed ? / fo
m no advocate of Indian saintliness of u
haracter; but viewing the above unpro- <,
oked butchery of well-behaved Indians, al
re you not compelled to admit that the
ed man is quite as desirable neighbor bs'
S the majority of frontier pale-faces2 tn