It does not take an extensive amount of honest historical investigation to know that the racial lynching within roughly the last 150 years of American history was mostly, if not exclusively, done of members of only one political party. These were acts of fevered motion, detached from reason and justified by a self-delusional (but desperate) and false claim to some moral and intellectual superiority and insight. The term lynching has been allowed to become a racial term. But it is hardly so. It is a term for those who would desperately impose power, or retain it.

The disgraceful battle to kill the nomination of Brett Kavanaugh to the United States Supreme Court is only the latest cruel, vile public lynching of a good, decent and qualified person by our political left. The practice has been open for all to see in regard to judicial appointments since Ted Kennedy led with his hateful characterization of Judge Robert Bork. And we have seen it time and time again, each almost more deceitful and vicious than the one before. In the early 1990s, Clarence Thomas looked weasels like Joe Biden in the face while sitting before the same Senate committee that now is holding hearings on Kavanaugh and called the low process what it was (and is): a high tech lynching.

Thomas thankfully survived to become Justice Thomas. But the left also learned a lesson from the Thomas hearing. They sprung the Anita Hill ambush too quickly. There was time for real facts to come to light and she had no impact. There was actually time for that much-discussed FBI investigation, which certainly did not help the accuser. Even the fellow employees that Hill tried to drag into it to save face discounted her claims and some even testified on Thomas’ behalf. Most of this is forgotten in the heat of media hype and their fever to lead in the attack against Kavanaugh.

The battle for the courts has a certain desperation for the left. It is one of two deliberate weapons they have against a free and ordered society. Woodrow Wilson certainly realized this and wrote about it before the turn of the 20th century. He was no fan of limited government and saw the Constitution as a barrier to his “progressive” view of knowledgeable “experts” being able to order things for the “good of everyone”. He saw the courts as the one sure way to chip away, or completely reverse, the vision of the Founders/Framers and the constitutional government they left us. Control of the courts was, is, vital to imposing a progressive agenda on a public who leans more toward individual liberty.

So we are stuck with the surreal picture of a man who before was known for an almost spotless character being characterized every minute of the day as a sexual abuser of woman by people who (I am sure) voted twice for Bill Clinton and would have voted for Ted Kennedy at the drop of a hat. Sitting on the very committee grilling the judge is Old Spartacus himself who has been forced to admit to groping. So, no, the dignity of women is not the issue here. If the man before the committee was Bill Clinton, Ted Kennedy, Chris Dodd, Cory Booker, Keith Ellison, etc. — the very same people would be rushing to their defense. The issue is about control. The issue is about the form of government we will have.

The racial lynching mentioned earlier was not really about the color of skin. It was about control. It was about power. It was about political terror.

The courts are hardly the only the arena for political lynching. Michael Flynn served this country with honor, tireless strength and focused honesty for decades. As a three-star general, he was one of the military voices which were thorns in the side of the Obama administration. He was one of the first victims of the latest leftist mob known by some as the Mueller investigation. Drained of his personal funds and having lost his home paying legal fees, he finally pleaded to void having his son put through the same thing. It was pointless, hateful and intended to “put in their place” those who would upset the power structure – the basis for lynching.

The lives, careers, and families of good people are of no concern to those who would lynch, either for racial or political purposes. And, yes, there are purposes to this. But truth, justice, or even the dignity of women are not among them.

I certainly believe Brett Kavanaugh to be qualified for a seat on the Supreme Court although I do have some questions that will never be answered because of the circus that has taken the place of a true and real discussion of his positions. I would like more clarity on some of his opinions and I have a natural concern that he has spent too much of his career in and around Washington DC, a distorting influence regardless of your mental metal. But those concerns will have to wait for when he actually votes on cases, if the soft spine of some Republican senators will allow him.

I can only hope that among the things which shine through the mist of this systemic character assassination is the real delight that the far left “social warriors” take in ruining the lives of good people. And the total disregard they really have for those “victims” and “survivors” they pretend to champion. The women they have dug up and conned into embarrassing themselves will be tossed aside and forgotten as soon as this is over, much like those whom they doom to welfare status and government dependency. No, they care little for people and their real lives. They care about issues … and the power behind them, the power over those real lives.

This lynching is too public, too coarse and too easily seen through. If it is allowed to be completed, it will mark a dark day for our republic because it will be so open.

As soon as it became apparent that Kavanaugh had done well in the meetings, which were bad enough on their own, and the normal soft votes on the GOP side would probably vote for him; Dr. Ford was sprung on the public. She had been held “in the hole” for two weeks, two weeks in which the charges she has made could be handled in secret and investigated completely.

But today we were treated as stupid foils as Dr. Ford was finally paraded out. There is little point to going through the whole sorry staged show but the even, measured questioning by the lady chosen by the GOP clearly showed not just that Dr. Ford brought no evidence of any type to the committee. Even in as simple a matter as her claim to fear flying it was clearly shown that she flies often, proving the delay of almost a week to allow for her travel was a straight lie; a simple game of delay and delay without any real attempt to establish truth.

To make a real and sincere attempt to establish the truth in the matter of Dr. Ford’s allegations, there was no need for any of the last-minute, oh-so-public drama and outright slander toward either party. But this was not about truth. Once again, it was about power and the reputations and life’s work and so many people were just fodder.

I will take a moment to speak to all my “never Trump” friends (and not-so friends) who have retained the strains of their conservative principles. Do you believe that anyone on the left would have problems with Donald Trump’s demeanor and style if he was fully supportive of abortion on demand, open borders, distribution of wealth, and the welfare state? In that case, he would just be another loveable but slightly different character like good old “Lunch Bucket” Joe Biden. His excessive personality traits would be no more of a problem than the sexual predator status of anyone named Clinton or Kennedy.

He is targeted for impeachment because he actually threatens to deconstruct their power base. Now, he is doing it more from a practical standpoint than a philosophical one. But he is still doing it. If this presidency is derailed by an entrenched left, the circus of today’s judiciary committee will become a successful standard.

Flynn and Kavanaugh are just two example of human collateral damage the left wants the principled part of the world to see. They are among the warnings to leave the leftist nest alone or you too will see your life’s work, your family, and your reputation damaged if not destroyed. They want good people to decide it is not worth the cost.

It is the intimidation of mob pressure which is the other desperate weapon that the left uses to tear down free and ordered societies. Courage in action always has a cost factor. Brett Kavanaugh may or may not become an outstanding Justice on the Supreme Court. That will be determined by his decisions. But he has already proven to have courage. And so has his good wife. And those strong daughters. They all pay a price, first for their principles and then for the courage to keep standing behind them.

If the Democratic Party were to win either (or both) of the congressional houses in just a few weeks, the brutal farce of today will become commonplace in the next two years. Regardless of our tastes, we had better hope that this presidency continues. The openness of what occurred today is proof of how close we are to losing the rule of law, our constitutional principles and our republic. And the intimidation will only have just begun.

Regardless of which descriptive title you care to give those dedicated to the bureaucratic Washington culture and its benefits (for themselves), you need to realize that they will always defend their turf to the last bloody battle. “The Swamp” and “Deep State” are only two of the least colorful that could be applied this crowd which cuts across party line in favor of top-down control for “the good of all,” regardless of which political party they have placed their literal fortunes on their big-government ticket. Those who threatened the normal (abnormal by Constitutional standards) conduct of business are a threat to their comfort, ambitions and fortunes. Don’t doubt most media types are also part of this crowd.

They had always kept a go-for-the-throat discipline on those who “rock the boat.” But it has never been so overt or so vicious as in the last couple of years. It has proudly worked to ruin the lives of dedicated military men like General Flynn; anyone in the Trump administration who seems to be effective in the promise of “swamp draining”.

Scott Pruitt is the latest of the targets who have had to pull the plug. I do believe that an honest review will show that he gave the effort some help with bad judgement about some things. And the Trump administration has followed through with their stated intent to weed out those who are not strict about certain standards. But the truth remains that he was a prime target not because of any of those things. He was targeted because he was doing a good and effective job implementing badly needed policy changes in an agency which was a prime weapon of the left against both the individual and capitalism in general. A great deal of the media campaign against Pruitt was aided greatly by a standard method of the swampy deep state: the selective leak. Those came from without the agency itself, by those protecting their own turf from the “outsider”.

The newest and present target is Ohio’s outstanding Congressman Jim Jordan. He is a thorn in the side of both that swampy deep state and the establishment GOP types. He is a strong and effective member of the Freedom Caucus, those members of Congress who take their conservative pledges to voters seriously, and band together to force that same sense of responsibility on first the total GOP membership and then the whole membership of the Congress. Sadly, it is most often seen as a distraction or a plain bother to the party leadership. Any so-called Freedom Caucus should be the entire GOP membership, if they are true to their stated purpose. Jordan has challenged Speaker Ryan for the softness of his leadership toward conservative goals and is still seen as a threat to the “go along, get along” dominant wing of the party.

Jordan has also been among the two most effective members of the House in fighting the committee battle to expose the cabal in the Obama administration that has worked to undermine Donald Trump, first as a candidate and then as an elected president. The swamp rats within the Justice Department had invested their careers in the established food chain and had set out to protect it all from those who would disrupt it. That has become more and more apparent as time goes on, even to those who might find little to like about a President Trump.

Congressman Jordan and Chairman Nunes had been the most determined and effective warriors in not just calling and questioning witnesses, but in the marathon involved in getting documentation from the Justice Department. Trey Gowdy can always be depended on to have a good day when the cameras are on, but it is these two who have put the swamp rats on the defensive. No member of that swamp can afford to allow this ball of string to unravel.

For those unfamiliar with Congressman Jordan, he has never won any election in his home state of Ohio by less than 64%. That includes a couple of elections to the State Senate that were well north of 80%.

In high school, he was a four time state wrestling champion. In college, he was twice NCAA Division I Nation Champion. He continued his education and earned his JD as well as serving as assistant wrestling coach at the Ohio State University for eight years.

It is the period while at Ohio State that is being called into question. The media has been able to dig up two individuals from that era who claim that Coach Jordan must have known about sexual abuse of some athletes by the university’s team doctor. It is the first time that these claims have been made in a matter that is 25 years old. Of the two accusers, one has a felony conviction for fraud in a $1.8 million matter and the other has a defamation suit pending in yet another matter.

I am sure the media machine will open a whole campaign about whoever Trump nominates tomorrow to take the now-vacant seat on the Supreme Court. That is the price that all who are comfortable with the grind of big and bigger government will continue to demand from anyone who threatens to be serious about a return to the path of the Founders/Framers.

We, of course, must continue to vote and campaign as hard as we can to get good people of good faith in the offices originally designed to serve us and our liberty. We, of course, must continue to support them when they are actually in place.

But we must not forget our job. It should be apparent that even the best of people battling within the big-government establishment are at a disadvantage. It is our job not to just vote them and support them. It is our job as the actual citizens whose rights are in the balance to use all we have at our command to curtail a run-away bureaucratic tyranny. I again remind all of the ability within Article Five of the Constitution for the states to rise up to make the necessary changes to give voice to the people.

Among the things which are lost when modern progressives dominate the scene is a true sense of reality. Since they deal mostly in the never-to-be, in their worldview terrorists become victims, suicide pacts become peace agreements and dependency becomes a career path.

But hopefully, one of the features of the conservative mind is that it keeps alive the lessons hard learned from the past. One of those is that the greatest threats normally come from within. That is even true of a world with would-be nuclear heathens almost in every corner. And it is especially true for anyone who would endeavor to self-govern in liberty.

The American nation has fought a revolution against the most powerful military force on the globe in which it faced sure defeat at least six different times and survived. A few years later, it was invaded and had its capital burned. It tore itself apart with a brutal civil war against itself. It spread itself from one ocean to another in defiance of three major world powers. It fought and won two world wars and prevailed in a cold war which promised world destruction. But it survived all of those because it was born with both the ability and the moral authority to handle it all. Outside threats can be forted-up against. They can be attacked outright and smashed. It is the threats from within that weaken and destroy. Just ask any Roman.

We are living through, and watching unfold, the greatest scandal of our history. It is also the most dangerous to our republic. It did not just happen overnight simply because we happen to have a few bad people in place at a certain time. There are always such people. There are always opportunities for them, here and in every society and every age. This is the natural result of 100 years of progressive thought and embedment in our society and our politics.

Politics by itself is slimy enough. It is corrupting by itself because it deals in power over others (which is also true of progressivism). That is just one of the reasons that politicos and government should be given as few things as possible to “fix.” Politicians tend not to “fix” problems but to ingrain problems because that empowers them.

The presidential election of 2016 is a prime example of what happens when government and the slimy characters who attach themselves to it for a lifetime become too big and too important in the daily lives of the citizens. Once again, this has been true since the beginning of governments. That is why the Founders divided both the government and its power as much as possible. Their impact was designed to be limited, or not at all, except in certain, specialized areas.

The 2016 election is resulting in the scab being torn from an ugly infection that is exposed more and more each day for those willing to look honestly. We can only hope that the sunlight will begin a curing process to at least limit that infection. For 100 years we have ignored the constitutional remedy for it.

It is now apparent to any who will read that the effort to undermine a possible Trump presidency began at least as early as April before he even secured the nomination as a “just in case” measure. It began in the government itself among the likes of John Brennan at CIA and a band of FBI agents using the title of Crossfire Hurricane. Daily, more and more details come to light. They are often thinly veiled as the New York Times piece yesterday (May 16) trying to put a more positive spin on the Crossfire Hurricane cabal since it appears it will soon be exposed through the efforts of the House.

There is little need at this moment to review the complete backgrounds of government gutter rats like Mueller, Comey, Brennan, Strzok, and Clapper. They are just representative of a professional, elitist political class that the Founders hoped to avoid. They now include just about all of the Democratic Party, most of the establishment of the GOP and certainly the majority of the media who consider themselves to be a vital part of it all. They all work to maintain a status quo in which government is ever-growing and they are at its center.

Without chasing all the rabbits down the holes, what the scab being torn from the 2016 election revels is a political class that is determined to impose its own will on the nation. Elections don’t matter to them unless they come out “right.”

In my mind, the two flies in the ointment for the political classes were Trump and Cruz, and perhaps Paul to a lesser extent. If any of the other GOP hopefuls won the nomination or even the presidency, they could be “handled.” If it had been Cruz there would have been a panic as well. A different kind than with Trump but still a panic on the parts of Dems, GOP establishments, and the media. All the others could be handled much like both of the Bushes had been, and Ford before them. Government would still grow, most of the Obama measures would be talked down to but hardly changed, radical inroads made would be left intact.

This political class does not believe in its own accountability. As a result, Congress has all but abandoned much of its oversight responsibility except for a few well-timed camera spots which are full of sound and fury … you know the rest.

A wide range of agencies write thousands of pages of regulations each year that have the weight of law but never are passed by the Congress. These agencies are manned by a bureaucratic class that actually carries more weight than Congress itself. EPA, BLM, USDA, and dozens of others are waiting to inject themselves into the daily lives of citizens in every corner of the nation without challenge. They and many more including the Department of Education have their very own SWAT type enforcement units. The mandates they hand down to ranchers in Utah, homeowners in Florida, barbers in New York and school principals in Kansas have to be enforced far beyond the short-sightedness of “bitter clingers” more interested in having control of their own lives than the “common good” which is more clearly seen from a desk on a third floor in DC.

The siting Obama administration did more to interfere with the election of 2016 than the Russians could have imagined doing. And they left behind a dumpster full of broken laws in doing it. Not only was the Trump campaign spied on electronically but apparently the FBI had at least one spy actually in the campaign. And now after a year of investigation by Mueller, there is not a single thing to link the Trump campaign to any Russian collusion. But the hunt will continue as far as the left is concerned. The objective is to disrupt Trump’s administration as much as possible if not drive him from office. All of this is still being aided by a media which has thrown away any pretense of integrity in the leaks they use, mostly illegal in this case, as evidenced by the May 16 piece in the Times.

The empowerment is not just of the central government or the leftist who populate it. It is of an elite political class comprised of bureaucratic lifers, media types, “intellectuals” and those who consider elective office a career path (of either party). Unelected, unaccountable judges who see their role more as last resort vehicles for “change,” “social justice,” or “social equality” instead of the rule of law or equality under the law can be added to the list.

In effect, this set of political elites serve to marginalize, if not exclude, what were to be the two most important elements of our carefully balanced governmental arrangement – the people and the states. To a great extent, they have they done just that. The election of 2016 is their attempt to complete the circle by controlling the election of a president, which was left exclusively to the people and the states. In might be more accurate to say that constitutionally the task was left to the people of the states. That is in effect what the electoral college does. It is not intended to be a nationwide egalitarian exercise but a state-centered one reflecting the character and interests of each of the states.

I am not sure how this will play out. Each day seems to add yet another damning layer to the political espionage that seems to have been so cavalierly done. I suspect some, if not a lot, of the scrambling we see is because of the forthcoming Inspector General’s Report.

I do believe that we are seeing a lot of protecting going on by these types. The rats are, of course, first of all trying to find a way to protect themselves. They are trying to protect Obama which is what led to a lot of this so far. When things (as in the election) didn’t turn out as planned, the political espionage which had become so commonplace in that administration had to be hidden in some way. I don’t even include Hillary in the protection scheme because in my mind the protection of Hillary, from very real felony charges, was little more than the playing out of the overall plan. Her election was just a continuation of the “fundamental change”. She was an interchangeable part.

I do believe that the whole sorted mess has to have a cost to it as well as an exposure that is as complete as possible. I am still not sure what that looks like but this is a tide which has to be turned, or at the very least the beginning of the beginning of a real turn.

Also in some way, the Clinton Foundation model has to be discredited. It cannot be allowed to continue as it has. Obama’s Organizing For America is setting on “go” to become the same thing, and they won’t be the last. If this becomes the standard, we have not just surrendered our national politics to the slimy political class within our own borders but internationally as well. There is no greater example of foreign collusion to influence American politics than the “pay for play” Clinton Foundation taking in hundreds of millions of foreign dollars for considerations in future administrations.

If the American people allow this president to be handcuffed any more than he already has been or to be driven from office by the rantings of this corrupt crowd, they will have surrendered their will to govern themselves. It is hardly about Trump himself. It is not about his character, his crassness, his morality, his tweets or even his policies which so far have been more conservative and more successful than could have been dreamed of 24 months ago. He is an imperfect man overseeing an imperfect administration regardless of its successes or failures.

It is about constitutional self-governance in a republic, a tricky matter in the best of situations. It is about maintaining the liberty and independence of the individual in America, not of a political class. Federalism itself is what we are talking about, the notion that a central government’s powers should be “few and defined” as Madison argued in Federalist 46. He wrote of a republic where the majority of the laws encountered by a citizen originated at levels of government close to him by representative he could look in the face on occasion. Without some element of that, self-government becomes an empty term.

We have just finished eight years of what was easily the most constitutionally impeachable presidency of our history, hands down, almost from the first day. It was allowed to continue practically unchallenged because of a political class in both parties, in the media and in the courts. Now if that same class can merely cancel out election results it hates without a price, the most important instrument of government ever written by mankind may well be on the way to becoming a dead document. It has already been seriously wounded. If we value it, it is time to stop the bleeding.

What became known as the Dull Knife fight basically brought an end to the resistance of the Northern Cheyenne on the northern plains during the months following the summer disasters to the United States Army at the Rosebud River and the Little Big Horn. It was the only fight of Crock’s winter campaign and the Cheyenne can truthfully say it was the only time they were ever beaten. But it was only the beginning of a journey of two major leaders of the Cheyenne, one which would test the will of a defeated people and the humanity of those who defeated them.

The two major figures for the Cheyenne are commonly not even called by their actual tribal names. Dull Knife was the translation of what the Sioux called Wahiev (the easiest way to write it in English without all the accents) which translates to Morning Star. Little Wolf’s name probably more accurately translates to Little Coyote but history continues to record him as Little Wolf.

Morning Star had been a chief who had pushed for peace with the Americans as early as the 1860. The attack on a Cheyenne camp at Sand Creek in 1864 changed his attitude somewhat and he took part in both the Red Cloud War in 1868 and then the Black Hills War of 1876. He now had taken his Northern Cheyenne band back toward the headwaters of the Powder River for a winter camp. The Cheyenne had laid up tons of buffalo meat in the fall hunt after a summer of fighting the white man’s army.

It had been a good summer of fighting. Crook had been smashed at the Rosebud and Custer with a good portion of his command had fallen at the Greasy Grass. With Little Wolf and his band in camp, nearly all of the hostile Northern Cheyenne presence on the north plains was centered there against the Bighorn Mountains.

Little Wolf was an honored leader of the warrior society of Bowstring Soldiers as well as being the Sweet Medicine Chief, the keeper of the medicine bundle of the prophet Sweet Medicine. Although his Cheyenne did not take part in the Custer Fight, they played an important role. It was a couple of his men who had found the packs lost by the Custer pack animals. When the soldiers sent back to find them saw the Indians going through them, Custer assumed that his presence was known by the main camp. Actually the Cheyenne who found the packs were going the other way. Supposedly this is what convinced Yellow Hair to speed up his attack without knowing the full size or length of the huge camp.

There was actually a confrontation between Little Wolf and the Sioux when his Cheyenne did arrive after the fight because the Lakota accused him of helping the soldiers. But now the two main bands of the Cheyenne were camped together in the protection of a valley canyon.

The camp is struck on the Morning of November 25, 1876 (five months to the day after the Custer fight) by cavalry and Indian scouts under Ranald MacKenzie (YOU WERE THE ONE I WAS AFRIAD OF). A large group of Indian scouts were the first in the valley and the Cheyenne focused their fire on them as they swept toward the left side of the valley, thinking they were the soldiers. Originally MacKenzie had intended for the soldiers to strike at both the center and the right of the camp but in the course of the attack his aversion to splitting his command caused him to keep them together. The cavalry horses had trouble in the mud of the Red Fork of the Powder River and those two factors combined allowed several of the warriors to get to high ground and cover the women and families as they made for safety. The Cheyenne were well armed and it had turned into a “rifle duel”.

A one point, there was a lull in the fighting. One account has the Cheyenne showing a white flag to talk. In any case, MacKenzie sent out an Indian scout to begin a discussion. Morning Star said that two of his sons had been killed and he would like to surrender but some of the other chiefs wanted to fight on (probably Little Wolf being the most vocal). He then scolded the Indian scouts telling them if they would leave, the Cheyenne could whip the soldiers. Finally he said that if MacKenzie would return the horse herd, they would surrender. He was told that was impossible.

Little Wolf shouted that a large Sioux camp was close and they would soon come and all the soldiers would be killed. But that didn’t move MacKenzie and the battle eventually returning to a sniping contest.
Both sides had issues with the status quo. The Cheyenne were in a strong position with a “back door” to escape from through. MacKenzie had sent for more troops under Colonel Richard Dodge to finish the fight but they would not arrive for some time. The Cheyenne were relatively well armed but were very low on ammo since most of that was still in the camp.

MacKenzie had used the offer of letting the Cheyenne keep their lodges and supplies as a lever to bring about a surrender. But that had failed and later in the afternoon he ordered for the destruction of the Cheyenne property to begin. He knew this was the key to their eventual surrender.

After a night that was in the range of -20 degrees, both side were ready to go their own ways. MacKenzie sent out scouts and they reported that the Cheyenne had moved about six miles away and had already slaughtered four of the few horses they had left. Tribal stories later said that 11 babies had frozen to death during the night. The army began their own withdrawal and a few Cheyenne warriors who had stayed in the rocks came down to wail and mourn the dead. They were left alone.

The journey from the Red Fork of the Powder was a bitter one for the Cheyenne. More froze to death. Almost all were on foot. When they did eventually find the Sioux camp under Crazy Horse they found that they were a burden. Accounts vary as to the exact reception the Cheyenne received in a Sioux camp that was struggling itself. They had not had the successful fall hunt that Morning Star’s band had being hard pressed by the army even if they had avoided any real fight. While they did not exactly turn them out (depending on who you believe), the Sioux were not sorry to see the Cheyenne go.

Following their spring surrender, several Cheyenne offered to scout against Crazy Horse but he came in himself a month following Morning Star and Little Wolf’s surrender. The Cheyenne had every expectation of being moved onto the Red Cloud Agency. It was very much their “home ground”.

But government wisdom being what it always is, the Northern Cheyenne were sent to the Darlington Agency to be with the Southern Cheyenne and Arapaho in Oklahoma. Not only was the country completely different from their natural range but it was more or less “picked clean”. What buffalo that had been there were long since dead and gone thanks to both hide hunters and the reservation Indians already there. The same was true of any small game animals. This left the Northern band completely dependent on government supplies which rarely came on time if at all as well as facing the resentment of the other Indians who saw them as imposing on the small resources they had.

By mid-1878 almost half of the Northern Cheyenne had died since that winter attack and together Morning Star and Little Wolf requested, yet again, to be allowed to return to their own country. The last refusal of the request began both a heroic and desperate chapter of the history of the Cheyenne people.

In September of 1878, about 300 Northern Cheyenne began the 1000 mile escape route back to their traditional home under the duel leadership of Morning Star and Little Wolf. What followed was a cat and mouse game with the cavalry as they made their way across Kansas and Nebraska.

By winter, the exhausted and mostly starving Cheyenne had a decision to make. Morning Star was on the verge of having had enough and wanted to surrender at the Red Cloud Agency. Little Wolf refused and the band split at White Clay Creek with the Sweet Medicine Chief taking his band into hiding in the surrounding sand hills while Morning Star and about 150 Cheyenne headed toward surrender.

When Morning Star reached the Red Cloud Agency, he found it abandoned. Those Sioux had been moved to Pine Ridge. From there the Cheyenne went to Fort Robinson to formally surrender. Before entering the fort, the Cheyenne took their guns apart and hid the pieces, some hung on the necklaces and bracelets of the women and children. There they remained for two months waiting for the post commander to receive word as to where the Indians were to be sent. The Cheyenne still fully expected to be sent to Pine Ridge.

When word did come, it was not good. They were to be sent back to Oklahoma. When Morning Star refused, the Cheyenne were locked in barracks without food, water or heat. The Cheyenne remained there for three days until on January 8, 1879, he began to reassemble their weapons. The breakout was led by Little Shield, leader of the Dog Soldiers and they made it out of the fort for a brief time. When the shooting and roundup was over less than 100 Cheyenne were returned to Robinson. Among those who were not caught were Morning Star, his wife and a son.

The small group of Cheyenne struggled toward Pine Ridge and Red Cloud. Without provisions and eating tree bark most of the way, they arrived at Pine Ridge after an 18 days journey. There they waited for word if they would be allowed to stay. After a couple of months of government paper shuffling, they were finally allowed to remain with Red Cloud for the time being.

In 1884, Morning Star’s band was moved to a reservation created for them along the Tongue River near Fort Keough where Little Wolf’s band had been held. It was too late for Morning Star. He had died the year before.

Little Wolf outlived Morning Star by a couple of decades but in some ways did not fare any better. He had surrendered to Nelson Miles in March of 1879 at Fort Keough. He even scouted for Miles for a brief time and Keough became the center point of concentrating the many smaller bands of Northern Cheyenne.
Little Wolf’s troubles were born from two primary sources: politics and whiskey. It has been suggested that both have corrupted men for time eternal. Personally I have had little doubt that politics is an evil, if a somewhat necessary one like war and government. Therefore, it has to be limited as much as possible and hopefully practiced mostly by those who distrust it to begin with. As far as whiskey is concerned, I am still researching the subject as thoroughly as I can and hope to have developed a firm conclusion sometime within the next three decades.

With all of the Northern Cheyenne bands except Morning Star’s in or around Fort Keough, there developed a political rivalry between the two most important chiefs, Little Wolf and Two Moon. The rivalry became intense as each worked to be the most influential among the tribe. But the Blue Coats decided to select Two Moon as their “head chief” and Little Wolf became more and more bitter.

The incident which completed Little Wolf’s fall from grace involved a Cheyenne who had once been a good friend named Starving Elk. The tension began when Little Wolf felt that the other man was showing too much interest in his wife. Sometime after a confrontation about that, Starving Elk’s attention shifted to Little Wolf’s daughter, Pretty Walker.

Little Wolf had become more and more sullen and was drinking often. On December 12, 1880 the Cheyenne chief walked into the trading post on Two Moon Creek belonging to Eugene Lamphere quite drunk. Some other Indians were in groups gambling for candy and when Little Wolf spied Starving Elk and Pretty Walker together in the crowd, he went into a screaming rage. As the Sweet Medicine Chief, he was supposed to always control his temper and put the welfare of other Cheyenne ahead of his own. But now he was uncontrollable and was finally carried to the door by others in the room. When he got outside, most thought the matter was over.

But Little Wolf returned with a rifle, stepped through the door, took aim and shot Starving Elk dead. Now calmed, he slowly walked out and told the other Cheyenne, “I am going to the hill over the creek. I will be there if someone wants me.” He then went to sit on the hill, expecting Starving Elk’s family to come and kill him.

But they did not. With his wife, Little Wolf held vigil on the hill for two days and then both sober and sorry he came down.

The authorities at the fort decided the matter was too politically charged and for the sake of keeping the reservation under control covered it up without any charges being brought on Little Wolf. Starving Elk’s family had burned the Sweet Medicine Chief’s lodge and wagon but had decided against any other revenge against Little Wolf.

The Cheyenne did not expel Little Wolf as was the custom but he pretty well exiled himself. He supported himself mostly doing odd jobs for white men and his wife took in washing while they isolated themselves from the other Cheyenne.

In 1892, the Cheyenne called a council to reorganize and although he at first refused to attend, Little Wolf was convinced to come, sit, smoke and help pick his successor. Sun Road was selected but he refused to accept the Sweet Medicine bundle. Finally Grasshopper stepped forward to take it. It was never seen again and many assumed he had buried it. The council had discussed doing away with it because it had been disgraced.

Little Wolf lived another 12 years, mostly apart from the people he had led. After his death, he was buried in Lame Deer Cemetery where he lies beside Morning Star. They rest there together overlooking the land they tried so hard to see again even if just to live out their lives. It was a hard journey for them both.

Ranald MacKenzie was sent to Fort Robinson in August of 1876 to command the District of the Black Hills. He would not just have his own 4th Cavalry but also units from five other regiments as well.

The Custer fight was not quite two months in the past yet. Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull’s Sioux were to the north and free as were the Northern Cheyenne with Dull Knife. Together they had embarrassed Crock at the Rosebud and all but destroyed the 7th at Little Big Horn, all in barely a week. Two large bands of Sioux and one of Cheyenne might have been the looming problem but the immediate one was the restless Sioux of the Spotted Tail and Red Cloud agencies. With the news of the summers’ victories, both warriors and families had been drifting off the agencies and into the hills making for a potential enlargement of the rebellion among the tribes.

MacKenzie’s first order of business was to find Red Cloud whom he thought was behind the runaways. The old chief had proven to be skilled at handling Indian Agents since agreeing to a settlement of the Red Cloud War in the late 1860s. When MacKenzie found the runaways camp several miles to the north, he surrounded it with troops and then gave Red Cloud the order to begin taking down lodges. When the chief began his usual speech to stall for time, the colonel ordered troopers to begin burning lodges. They had barely begun when the women started taking down lodges and packing their goods.

MacKenzie then had the horse herd gathered, horses were issued only to the old and sick and to drag lodge poles. Everyone else walked back toward the agency. Two smaller groups were found and given the same treatment and the runaway situation was handled for the moment.

Three large bands of hostiles free on the edge of the mountains were a different matter. The winter campaign to sweep the Powder River Valley was commanded overall by General George Crook who had fumbled so badly at the Rosebud River.

On November 22, MacKenzie got word of a large Cheyenne village in the Big Horn Mountains from an Indian scout. He was on the march the next day. On the 24th, he stopped in the middle of the day to rest for a forced march that night to catch the village in the morning. The column stopped in the dark just short of the village and MacKenzie went ahead to scout the village himself while the Pawnee and Shoshone scouts moved their saddles from their riding horses to their war horses. They would charge in first and to the left to cut off the retreat of the Cheyenne while the cavalry would strike in the center and the right.

The entrance to the valley holding the camp was only wide enough for a column of four but then opened into a wide expanse. What followed was some of the most determined fighting that the 4th had taken part in. The Cheyenne had several repeating rifles and ran toward the rocks around the camp and high ground on the west end of the canyon. True to MacKenzie’s style, the horse herd was captured immediately.
One group of Cheyenne tried to make it around the edge and take back the horses. The colonel saw it and sent Lieutenant John A. McKinney with a company to drive them back. The company was met with a fierce effort by the Cheyenne but finally turned them.

With most of the Cheyenne driven far back into the canyon, MacKenzie put part of his men to destroying the camp. He knew that regardless of body counts the real victory was in taking away the Indian’s ability to stay off the reservation. Large amounts of ammunition were in some of the lodges and they exploded as they were burned. Over 200 lodges with robes, hides and tons of buffalo meat were burned. Among the lodges a great many relics from the Little Big Horn were found including what was believed to be Tom Custer’s buckskin jacket. After heavy losses, the Cheyenne fell back to escape. But they were mostly on foot, without food, shelter or warm clothes.

The cavalry losses were one officer and six troopers dead with twenty-six wounded. It the most dead and wounded MacKenzie had ever had and he took it badly. Especially so because the officer was Lieutenant McKinney.

Years before McKinney had been an undisciplined junior officer whom MacKenzie had lectured and disciplined harshly but had paid a $500 debt for. He had since become a fine officer and reportedly the colonel cried and was openly depressed to see his body.

MacKenzie was a hard man but was hardest on himself. Despite what ended up being a decisive victory in the winter campaign, he considered the Dull Knife Fight (as it was called) a fumble on his part because of the losses taken. His orderly wrote that the commander paced all night and did not sleep and was constantly checking on the wounded. During the sub-zero weather, the bodies of the dead troopers froze overnight.

But it was hardest on the Cheyenne. The winter would destroy their ability to support themselves. They first made it to Crazy Horse’s camp but the Sioux leader would not take them in because he was short of food himself. From then on Crazy Horse was isolated. The Cheyenne hated him even more than the blue-coats and that would play a large part in his “coming in” as well.

When the Cheyenne did come in at the beginning of spring, they were a terrible lot. Many had frozen during the winter and the rest were starved and in bad health. Crazy Horse was only a month behind them. With Sitting Bull escaped to Canada, the northern plains were mostly peaceful.

When Dull Knife surrendered at Fort Robinson, General Crook formally accepted it. But when that was finished, Dull Knife turned to MacKenzie, “You are the one I was afraid of when you came last summer”.

But MacKenzie and his 4th were hardly allowed to rest.

They were sent back to the Texas border country and there was yet another raid into Mexico. When there was a revolt among the San Carlos Apache at Cibecue Creek, the 4th was sent to Arizona where MacKenzie secured a defensive line along the international and New Mexican borders. He was then moved to head the Department of New Mexico where he not only was to sweep the Apache back toward the Arizona reservations but also quieten the Navajo who seemed on the verge of rebellion.

In 1881, MacKenzie was ordered to move his 4th to Colorado to patrol and protect Ute land from whites until the Uncompahgre Utes could be moved to Utah opening the area up for legal settlement. It was the 4th’s second trip to Colorado having been sent there after the White River Utes had revolted killing their agent Nathan Meeker and nine others. The area had settled some when the Southern Utes had moved to the Four Corners area but the Uncompahgre had never quieted down and some small raids by them had become common.

When the day came for the Utes to move, they balked with the agent and he sent for MacKenzie to assist. The 4th was lined up in formation and the colonel sent for the Ute leaders to parley. About 20 Utes showed up, mostly armed. Some had guns, others had strung bows. MacKenzie and his officers sat unarmed. The Utes began making elaborate speeches to either delay or refuse the move altogether. For a few minutes, MacKenzie sat popping the stubs of his fingers on the right hand which had become a nervous habit, then stood up and put on his hat. He informed the Utes that they could continue to talk if they wanted but all he wanted to know was: were they going to move on their own or was he going to make them. And then he left.

The next morning the Utes began to move toward their new reservation. At the last minute, a few men with an old chief named Colorow tried to show some resistance and made a charge toward the soldiers. The troopers formed a line, carbines ready. They stopped and then slowly joined the rest.

It was unpleasant work. But MacKenzie would consider it his best work because not a shot had been fired.

MacKenzie spent the next couple of years in command of the Department of New Mexico. He had good housing and was able to move his mother and sister to Santa Fe with him and provide for his mother. He worked well with the Mexican authorities on combined efforts against raiders of all races. The Diaz government had stabilized there and MacKenzie proved to be a better diplomat than his usual contentious nature might indicate.

The biggest frustration for the ambitious MacKenzie was the politics involved with acquiring a general’s star again in an army with only a limited number of slots. His natural rival for that star, Nelson Miles who also happened to have married into Sherman’s family, got it early in 1883. But other factors came into play that year.

Early in 1883, his mother died. She had been a widow since MacKenzie was eight and he had always considered it his responsibility to make things better for her, especially after his brother was killed while in service as a naval officer.

In the fall of ’83, Sherman stepped down as General of the Army and Sheridan advanced to fill the stop. This also caused a re-shuffling among the list of general officers and Sheridan now had the chance to reward his favorite fighter.

In a sense, San Antonio had been somewhat of a home to MacKenzie. It was the headquarters for the Department of Texas. In the coming and goings of the years past, he had bought a home there and bought ranch land to the northwest. Commanding the Department of Texas was much more of an administrative post without so many of the physical demands of the commands he had held for the last 20 years. After almost a decade and a half, Bad Hand and the 4th Cavalry were going to part ways.

General Ranald S. MacKenzie arrived in San Antonio on November 1, 1883. He was 43 years old and it seemed the gods of war had smiled and allowed this scared, dutiful warrior a just reward and some peace at last.

The Kiowa called him Man-gom’-hente’ which, when said correctly with the right clicks of the tongue, means that the index finger is missing so, therefore, “I point with the thumb.” The Comanche, being more crude and unimaginative (just ask any Kiowa), used a term which simply meant “bad hand.” He could be thin-skinned and petty as well as insightful and generous. He was both shy and forceful. He spoke with a lisp but could cuss with “superior clarity.” He spent half his life in almost constant pain but still uncomplainingly led men through hardships that tested them to their limits.

For more than a decade, he was the master chess piece that the General of the Army (be it Grant, Sherman or Sheridan) moved around on the frontier board when success needed to be assured. Although known largely for his success against the Plains Indians of Texas, he played important roles in dealing with the Apache, the Sioux, the Northern Cheyenne, and the Utes. The soldiers of his first combat command hoped to kill him themselves in their first action. At almost the exact moment that he seemed to achieve his career and life goal, he was cut down. He was very probably the best commander that the United States ever sent to the field against the American Indian.

The soldiers who served under Ranald Slidell MacKenzie for over two decades probably would have had little trouble believing that he had finished at the head of his West Point class. They might have been surprised to also learn of the large number of demerits he received, mostly for playful pranks and being late. What they mostly saw was a model of discipline, order, and sheer will. He could hang a man from his thumbs for a breach of order and secretly pay his bills to allow him a second chance. He was the Indians’ unbending enemy in war and their fearless champion in peace.

MacKenzie was commissioned well after the Civil War began and as was normal for West Point’s best performing cadets assigned to the Corp of Engineers. He received the first of many wounds at Second Bull Run while carrying a message. The ball entered his right shoulder, traveled across somehow without touching the spine and exited in the left arm. The rebels who shot him took his gun and money and left him to die. He didn’t but it was only the first of many wounds to come.

He quickly built a reputation as an effective officer who personally saw that pontoon bridges, river fords, and artillery sites were in place even under the heaviest enemy fire. He won quick promotion and responsibility. But he fought to receive an actual combat command.

He was granted his wish in mid-1864 when he was commissioned as colonel of U.S. volunteers and given the Second Connecticut. The Second had just taken a severe pounding at Cold Harbor as well as losing their popular commander to an enemy bullet. It had both a bad rep and worse performance record. It took the new commander only a day to decide that discipline was at the heart of both their performance and morale problems. For an individual infraction, MacKenzie would have the entire regiment drill with logs after a full day’s march.

At Petersburg, a shell fragment tore away the first two fingers of his right hand. But the first full combat that the Second would see would be in Sheridan’s push up the Shenandoah Valley. Some of his men had planned to shoot the commander themselves if the heat of action gave them the opportunity in hopes of getting out from under his discipline. The confusion of the Battle of Winchester might have seemed to be the perfect chance to do just that. The federal forces had become intermixed in a confused mass without direction. The Confederates took advantage and plowed into the Union’s right flank with only the Second Connecticut left to prevent a rout. The men of the Second remained disciplined in the positions assigned as MacKenzie rode back and forth open to the full fire of the Confederates to make sure his men were safely protected before their attack. When a rebel shell cut the commander’s horse in half, he scrambled to his feet, tied a handkerchief around his bleeding leg and joked that he had to improve his dismount. More than one man who served with MacKenzie recalled that they hardly remembered him laughing or smiling – except in a fight.

Then waving and pointing with the bandaged hand stub of a hand which had not yet healed, the young colonel then led the charge to take the needed hilltop crest that would turn the battle. Two months before the Second Connecticut had been observed to be “supine and stupid.” They were now a top combat unit, and they knew it. MacKenzie survived the battle but the soldier’s plot to kill him did not. In the words of one soldier’s diary, they “could not draw a bead on so brave a man as that.” Like most of the others who served under him, they would never love him but they would damn sure follow him.

By the end of the Civil War, MacKenzie wore two stars, carried three more wounds and was called by U.S. Grant “the most promising young officer” in the entire army. He had become Phil Sheridan’s personal favorite. But like another “boy general” created by that war, MacKenzie had to settle for a brevet status and a reduction in rank to captain when peace came and the Army had too many men and way too many officers.

Government wisdom being what it always is, the best young fighting officer of the ranks was moved back into the Corp of Engineers. But in the spring of 1867, he applied for command of the 41st Infantry. The permanent rank of full colonel came with the command but two other men had turned it down, supposedly because it was a black regiment with a lot of discipline problems. With Sheridan’s help, he was given the command by Grant. At 26 he was the second youngest full colonel in the army and back on the line.

>In reversing what many saw as a bad situation, MacKenzie not only drilled and demanded higher discipline but also sent his second in command to northern cities to recruit northern blacks who were generally more educated than the former field hands which made up most of his ranks at the time. In addition, he began a limited instructional program with the troops he had. Over the next years it would not just be a top performing regiment but also have the lowest desertion rate in the frontier army. By mid-summer, MacKenzie and the 41st were headed toward Fort Brown, Texas. He crossed the frontier and would spend the rest of his career there.

MacKenzie and his charges moved along a string of forts designed to form a line dissecting the normal raiding route of the Kiowa and Comanche between Mexico and the high plains as well as an agency established for them in Indian Territory after the Medicine Lodge Treaty of 1867. The forts went by names such as Brown, Clark, Concho, McKavett, and Richardson. As MacKenzie’s effectiveness grew, he found himself in command at Fort McKavett with not just the 41st but parts of the 9th Cavalry as well.

With the Quaker agents assigned to Indian Territory agencies unable to discipline or control the nomad tribes, the raiding in Texas and Mexico had grown to rival even that of the Civil War years. Numerous scouts and running fights with the raiders had given MacKenzie a vision of how war had to be conducted against these hostiles. And with his assuming the command of the 4th Cavalry at the beginning of 1871, he began to practice and perfect it.

MacKenzie understood that simply chasing down raiders as they plied their trade would neither stop or impress the plains tribes. In his mind, the goal was not to punish the tribes but to defeat them and they would never surrender as long as they felt they had a safe harbor to retreat to, and they had two.

The first was the government agency established in the Fort Sill area north of the Red River. It was operated under the Department of the Interior and administered by Quakers who were committed to the Interior’s Peace Policy toward the Indians. The Kiowa, Comanche, Southern Cheyenne and Arapaho all drew rations from the agency and the troops at Sill more or less followed a policy of containment without any real way of accounting for who came and went.

The other safe harbor was traditional and presented a mental barrier to most whites – the Llano Estacado. At the north edge of what is called the south plains, a rim of rock overlooks the land to the south. It is known simply as the Caprock, it is the beginning of the Texas Panhandle. When one climbs to the top they have reached a table top that stretches far beyond even the imagination. The first explorers called it the Great American Desert and the few of European blood who had ever ventured upon it were Comancheros, New Mexicans who traded with the Indians for horses, cattle, and captives. In 1870, it was still considered by most to be an empty, waterless and mysterious expanse. Trade routes, cattle drovers, and the military simply went around either to the east or west regardless of the distance. The Comanche and Kiowa melted into the Llano as if the air itself had swallowed them.

MacKenzie began a series of almost constant patrols along the Red River to cut the Indians from their return to the agency. But more importantly, he began leading and sending out patrols along the edge of the Caprock from the head of the Pease River, across the headwaters for the Forks of the Brazos and toward the New Mexico line. All trails discovered were mapped and then followed toward the north. MacKenzie was learning and studying the great protection for the plains tribes to discover how to take it away.

MacKenzie had determined in his mind that the key to victory was not how many warriors were killed or captured but to strike the Plains Indians in their safest place, destroy their means of survival on the harsh plains and to keep constant pressure on him, regardless of the season. The army had maintained to this point that campaigning on the Llano was not possible.

The year of 1872 changed all of that. That spring MacKenzie’s patrols intercepted some marauders driving stolen stock and the lone survivor of the pack was a Comanchero, Polonio Ortiz. Under interrogation, he was convinced that cooperation was better than hanging. From him, valuable information about established trails, water holes, and canyons beyond the Caprock was collected, recorded and mapped. Many of these were physically checked and mapped with Ortiz during the summer, establishing the possibility that a cavalry unit might not have to go more than 30 miles without water if the right route was used.

The last half of 1872 saw MacKenzie almost constantly in the field. From the headwaters of the Fresh Fork of the Brazos, he pushed in the southern end of what would later prove to be a network of canyons. At Blanco Canyon, he destroyed a combined Comanche/Kiowa camp.

MacKenzie swung north toward the Red River, scouted upstream on the Prairie Dog Fork enough to confirm his belief that it might be the key to flushing out the prairie nomads. When he sensed that he might endanger his command, he stopped and regrouped to consider what to do. Then his scouts reported a “hot” trail toward the North Fork of the Red and he swung north again. After resting men and horses, he headed toward the area (northeast of present-day Amarillo) where McClellan Creek empties into the North Fork.

A camp of 262 lodges was struck at about 4 in the afternoon. The horse herd was cut off and captured. The warriors fought as they could to hold the higher ground above the camp but were finally driven off and engaged in a running fight with troopers until dark set in. There were 146 women and children taken prisoner and all lodges and supplies were destroyed but the Tonkawa scout became upset with MacKenzie when he stopped their scalping and mutilation of the Comanche dead. Only one trooper had been lost.

The next evening as they set up camp, it was suggested that the captured horses be placed in the middle of camp. But the commander was concerned about the experience of the horse handlers that evening. If the Indian horses got out of control they might stampede the army mounts as well. He decided to hold the captured horses in a depression outside of camp.

Deep into the night, the Indians attacked, waving buffalo robes, whooping and firing random shots. No soldiers were lost and no captives recovered but the entire Comanche horse herd had been stampeded.

MacKenzie learned that night how important the horses were to the survival of the Plains tribes on the Llano. They and a winter’s supply of meat were the keys. Without horses, the Comanche and Kiowa could not raid, they could not hunt. MacKenzie had allowed them to get them back. He would not let it happen again.

The Battle of the North Fork of the Red River was the most deadly blow to the Comanche since the Texan’s victory at Plum Creek in the 1840s. But it was much more important than that. It is not the battle that MacKenzie is best known for. But it set the stage for what was to come.

The campaigns of 1872 proved that cavalry could operate on the Staked Plains and that there were routes that could be depended on. The mystery was gone from the Llano for the Whites Eyes. What MacKenzie had learned and shown in 1872 didn’t just open the area up to the army. It demonstrated to all that the land above the Caprock could be opened to cattle, hunters and eventually even settlers. The southern plains tribes might, for the moment, still consider it their safe place. But that was to change very soon. Bad Hand was going to come back.

“I call on you in the name of Liberty, of patriotism & everything dear to the American character….” — William Barret Travis, from the Alamo, February 24, 1836

“Buck” Travis was 26 years old, somewhat of a hot head. He was like several of the men with which he found himself, by twist of fortune, commanding in that old, never completely finished mission just beyond the San Antonio River. In his short life he had proven himself to be both brave and irresponsible, a flawed failure determined to create a new condition for himself. He had only held command for 13 days, assuming it when James Neill left to attend to family business. Before another 13 days could pass he would be dead in the pre-dawn darkness. The last man in his command would barely see the early light of March 6 before he too would be dead.

There were no angels behind those walls when Santa Anna began his four-pronged attack in the pitch black darkness. There were some very good men. There were some rogues. The three best-known names of the defenders included an almost legendary knife fighting brawler who had authored one of the biggest land frauds in American history and had been sent to destroy the Alamo not defend it, a failed United States Congressman deeply in debt and seeking both a new start and a last chance, and the young commander who deserted wife, child and debts to now find himself shouldering the sudden weight of a seemingly doomed position.

By the time the mid-morning sun was bright on March 6, the bodies of the less than 200 defenders were being burned somewhere in front of the roofless chapel of the old mission. It would be months before Juan Seguin could return and gather what remains he could find. The exact location of even these is still uncertain.

But before the smoke was through drifting southward on the north wind which came with daylight and the bittersweet smell of burned flesh had melted into the atmosphere, this varied collection of men were well on the way to becoming a permanent symbol of what their commander had termed “everything dear to the American character”.

That famous letter had been written the day after Santa Anna had besieged the small command. There would be others written and sent out before the final attack. But this one was copied over and over again as it was passed throughout the settlements of Texas. It is this appeal, finished and signed with “Victory or Death” that has become what some call a “declaration of defiance”.

After all of the things that have been written about the Alamo battle, and I have read most of them, there are two reflections that I would focus on as we approach another anniversary of the old mission’s conquest. One is that regardless of our past or shortcoming, there is heroic potential in us all if we just answer the call. The other is an examination of just what those things are which are dear and central to the American Character.

William Barret Travis had been raised in South Carolina but had moved to Alabama by the time he set about making a place for himself in the world. He was still in his teens when he tried teaching but lasted only a few months, just enough time to romance a 15-year-old student whom he would later marry. He tried establishing a newspaper while studying the law. Both the newspaper and legal career were failures and left what seemed to him huge debts. He had a wife, a son, a daughter on the way and an arrest warrant for debt. He left them all behind and headed for the Mexican territory of Texas.

In Texas, he began a law practice but proved to be a hot head who clashed with authorities in Anahuac, almost starting a shooting conflict over a mere exchange of words. He answered the call to the “Lexington of Texas” to help the settlers at Gonzales protect their small cannon from Mexican authorities – but got there too late to take part in anything. He was a junior officer in the loose association of Texian forces which converged on San Antonio in October of 1835 at the beginning of the Texas Revolution. The ill-organized siege lasted into December and he served mostly as a scout for a cavalry unit commanded by Randle Jones. He was not there when in December Ben Milam lead a house to house attack that expelled General Cos and his Mexican troops from Texas. A family letter written by his cavalry commander labeled him as both “impulsive and insubordinate”.

By the end of January, there were less than 100 men stationed in San Antonio and there were rumors of Santa Anna planning a return in the spring. Travis was given a commission in the “regular army” and sent with 30 (or 18 depending on whose account you accept) men to reinforce James Neill’s command. Neill left and Travis was supposedly in control of the “regulars”.

Jim Bowie had arrived with a volunteer force with orders from Sam Houston to save the cannon and blow up the Alamo (which Old Sam considered a death trap to defend) and then rejoin Houston. For his own reasons, Bowie had decided that San Antonio was “the key to Texas” and was determined to stay. Most of the men, both regular and volunteer, preferred Bowie as a commander but Travis held the official title and they had to reach a workable agreement. After some discussion and considerable drinking on Bowie’s part, a joint command was agreed upon. But by that morning of February 24, Bowie lay ill and the full command rested on Travis.

The arrival of Santa Anna’s forces on the 23rd sent the small band hurrying to “fort up” behind the old walls and gradually become trapped in a fate that they would not have expected just hours before. None of those men had come to Bexar to die in a crumbling death trap. But almost without realizing it that had become their lot.

There is a line from one of the better Alamo movies spoken to Travis by a stricken Bowie from his cot, “Buck, if you live five more years you might just be a great man.”

A thoughtful Travis answers, “I believe I will have to settle for what I am.”

So it is for all of us.

If all the legends are exact accounts matter little in the meaning of the events which took place that winter northeast from San Antonio de Bexar on the opposite bank of the river. It is such moments of decision that we all find if what we are now measures up. Those moments rarely come at opportune times. And how we respond to the heat of those moments will remain as our measure.

In Travis’ case, he proved to have both the words and the leadership necessary for great moments, even if they were fleeting ones. The men whom he commanded held their post with a determination that, even by the most conservative Mexican accounts, cost Santa Anna three dead soldiers for each rebel killed, and although they never realized it those 13 days allowed the Convention at Washington-on-the-Brazos scheduled for March 1 to take place. It does not matter if the legend of the “line in the sand” is completely true. Each of those defenders crossed their own line, in their own way, stayed and accounted for themselves as few could.

Travis died on the wall, close to the west gate, in the early moments of the pre-dawn attack with a single gunshot to the head. I have no way of knowing who fired the shot.

I don’t know for sure if Bowie died as his sister-in-law described, slashing with his famous knife after having fired his pistol at point blank only to be bayoneted and tossed in the air like a bale of hay. Perhaps he lay there too weak to even raise his arms. Either way, his decision and his actions speak for themselves.

There are at least half a dozen accounts of Crockett’s death including one journal by a Mexican officer claiming the former congressman was clubbed down and captured only to be executed. Regardless, the impact of what happened in those 13 days of siege and on that last morning is the result of how those flawed men answered the call when it was thrust upon them. It serves as a reminder to us that the call that counts is the one before us now, not the ones before when we were all too human. It is those who act on those calls who shape the world for all the others.

I do not intend to even attempt to touch all the aspects of the American Character, at this moment. Hopefully, I can at least touch or even hint at some small part each time I visit here. But as for now, I hope to throw some sliver of light on the cultural conflict which lay at the bedrock of what became the Texas Revolution and is too often dismissed by the left as just another Anglo land grab.

There was a definite cultural divide between the central Mexican government and the imported Americans who had come to dominate the territory of Texas. The mostly Scot/Irish Americans were allowed to settle in territory north of San Antonio because the centralized Spanish government had failed miserably in getting it done. There were some “native Texians” already there but few in number. They were the hardiest and most independent of the Spanish subjects who took to the survival environment and were for the most part as free minded as their new Anglo neighbors. Many of them had Basque blood in their veins. Almost all of them were among the revolutionaries.

If Spanish or Mexican, the government of Mexico City was traditionally European and centralized to the extreme. A remote, vibrant, growing and culturally different territory was ripe for disputes. Almost every issue which grew to become an all-out revolution had its roots in centralization by a distant government and/or trade (free markets) – not much different from the revolution hardly more than a generation before.

An overly centralized government has a natural conflict with a culture of self-reliance. In fact, they cannot co-exist regardless if they are colonists in North America or kulaks in the Soviet Union. Regardless of any other aspects, that should be the point to reflect on today. There was a time when the American Character was one of self-reliant individualism – they, by nature, rejected centralization and considered it something worth fighting over. The differences between the Texians and Santa Anna was cultural but it was not racial, sorry leftists.

The history of this nation has been the living proof that the culture of individual liberty is not racial. All who have come here and absorbed that culture (or brought the seeds of it with them) have found it a blessing. They were not exempt from all the secular ills and faults of moral men but they practiced liberty at a level never experienced anywhere else in history. Those who do not fully accept it, or flat out reject it, yearn for the false safety of the collective and fret the risks that come with commanding your own life’s course.

I do not mean to oversimplify the conflict. All such matters can give birth to volumes of accounts and analysis of every twist and turn. There were people of both good and bad character and intentions on all sides. So it is with all human events.

When the Alamo fell on the morning of March 6, its flag was the tri-color with 1824 in the center of it representing the federalist Constitution of 1824 which Santa Anna had suspended. They had no way of knowing that just four days before at Washington-on-the-Brazos, Texas had formally declared its independence. The principle of federalism, local control of as many matters as possible and individual independence were very much at the center of what was defended behind those walls.

As a matter of disclosure, I will admit family ties might shade my view. At least three different family branches commanded troops during those days. Another rode almost 400 miles in a bitter February, swam his horse across four icy rivers to represent all of Texas north of the Trinity River at Washington-on-the-Brazos and, at 70, be the oldest man to sign the Texas Declaration of Independence.

I have read the journals and family letters of these men, listened to the all the passed-down stories, weighted them against more thoroughly researched material, and blended all of that into what I am still trying to learn about the history of us all. I believe I know what they valued. I do know that whatever it was, they would fight like hell for it.

I also know them to be flawed humans, certainly no better than most of us. Some perhaps not nearly as good. Most came to Texas on tired horses, having left where they came from in a hurry and making sure none could catch up. But in the end, they can still best be measured by what they valued and what they did about it.

Those things that were held so dear to the American Character are our heritage. Looking at that heritage now and the danger it is in, I hope that what we do about it can be measured as well as the actions of those very human, very flawed men of 182 years ago.

Below the Canadian River, the open and seemingly endless plains stretch around the beginning of a canyon network that works its way southward for almost 100 miles before it plays out. Along what some would consider a lonely span of highway just north of those canyons and east of Amarillo, it is easy to completely miss the “wide spot in the road” that is home to two different monuments to the same man.

There was no town named Goodnight in 1887 when Charles Goodnight moved his home ranch to this spot. More than a decade before he had founded the first ranch in the Texas Panhandle by moving into Palo Duro Canyon. He had introduced foreign capital into the Texas cattle business in order to recover his own fortunes lost in the Panic of 1873 and branded his cattle with JA to acknowledge his Irish partner, John Adair.

Under Goodnight’s tough management the JA grew and prospered, purchasing and leasing land surrounding Palo Duro and the adjoining plains. The town bearing his name was founded after the master cattleman had divided his share with the Adair heirs and built a two-story house for his Molly (Mary Ann) on what is now the south side of the highway.

Although it could hardly ever been considered a city, even by my creek bank standards, Goodnight did boast a college (naturally Goodnight College, founded by the former country school teacher, Molly Goodnight with help of the local Baptist church), a post office and three churches. Just before WWII, the college was long gone but was home to about 300 souls and a dozen businesses.

By 1963 the town of Goodnight’s population sat at 25. It still does.

It was in ’63 that Goodnight had a moment of the spotlight when the movie Hud was filmed there, a version of Larry McMurtry’s Horseman Pass By, with Paul Newman in the starring role.

The old Goodnight house had fallen to disrepair over the years and I have stopped in front of it many times, even pulled down the lane leading to it and looked at what once was a center of leadership in all areas of Panhandle life but was now an empty shell. Thankfully, that is no longer true.

In less than a decade the house has been restored. Between it and the highway sits the Goodnight Historical Center, all done through donations. As one pulls down that lane now toward the house, they will pass a shop sporting a variety of items as well as a few buffalo penned behind it.

The Goodnight buffalo (or bison if you care to be exact in your terminology) herd was instrumental in preserving this most American of native mammals. It began with Charles roping an orphan buffalo calf (even if it did run through the first loop he threw) and bringing it home for Molly to bottle feed. The bull calf grew to be Old Spike and was the founding bloodline of one of the purest bison lines left on this continent. Most of his extended family now roam the Wichita range of Oklahoma under federal protection.

The Center remembers not just the cowman pioneer but also the cowman historian who best told his story. J. Evetts Haley was a cowman from the ground up but also the foremost historian of the Texas plains, perhaps the best writer among the historians of his time and the man who almost single-handedly put together one of the best collections of pioneer items to be found on the continent for the Panhandle-Plains Museum in Canyon, Texas. His Charles Goodnight, Cowman, and Plainsman is not just the final authority on anything Goodnight but also an open window into the values, principles and souls of both men.

Although I can never say that I agree completely with them on everything, these two men help to form quite a bit of my intellectual and personal compass. To travel through the reddish walls of Palo Duro, stand in front of the earthen dug-out where Goodnight spent his first winter in the canyon and walk along the halls of that museum in Canyon, pausing at the old JA chuck wagon is retreading private, special ground for me to be shared only with those whom I would want to have an unspoken glimpse of my private self.

Although less than five years old, the new improvements on the old home ranch site are fitting monuments to both men. But they are not the only ones, and perhaps not the most meaningful ones, to be found in what many would now consider a ghost town. One has to cross the highway to the north to find those.

It is there in a small, wind-swept graveyard that Charles and Mary Ann Dyer Goodnight rest together behind a protective chain link fence. There are, of course, historical markers and headstones. But the more meaningful tributes began several years ago, without any real way of knowing by whom or exactly when.

Tied to the wires of the chain link is a varying number of wild rags. It has become a common way to quietly acknowledge the man resting behind the fence for those who understand his meaning by leaving this token there in the Panhandle wind.

For those who don’t know the term, a wild rag is simply a large silk scarf that cowboys wear as opposed to the better-known term of bandana which is usually cotton. Wild rags can range from solid colors to intricate, complex designs. But they are always bright.

There are different kinds of monuments, all coming with different costs. The ones of brick and stone are important. There are bold physical reminders for us of what we should value.

But those silken tokens symbolize an even deeper monument. They are left by those who don’t just acknowledge the values but put them into practice on a daily basis. For the most part, they are left by those who have chosen a way of life centered on a love of the same things which drove Charles Goodnight. They understand daily risk and the need for focused work. They trust their own skill, luck, and simple pride.

In this very different age, many like me have not driven cattle more than 30 or 40 miles at a time with only a single “night out” but this age was created by the men who drove 1000 miles across stark deserts, swollen rivers, and open plains. Ages simply don’t stay the same. But the qualities necessary for making those ages a positive building block for yet another age stay the same.

The qualities which turned Charles Goodnight from a dirt-poor orphan on a brutal frontier line into the “Father of the Panhandle” and one of the greatest influences on the American ranching industry are the same ones that allow a Southeast Asian displaced by communist tyranny to come to a land (legally) with a strange language, to start life anew with no resources save those same qualities and prosper within a generation. Those people are as American as Charles Goodnight and their stubborn pursuit of their own liberty are living monuments to him and hundreds like him from almost every walk of life. American monuments are not about race, origin or tribe. They are about principles manifested in individual behavior and values. The truest monuments are the living of those principles, the nurturing of them and the passing of them on to a posterity who can then enjoy their benefits even more deeply.

The wild rags left on that fence come from those who this month are spending sleepless nights in northern plains calving barns during sub-zero temperatures, or horsebacking yearlings from one wheat pasture dented by too little moisture to another one almost as bad as the sleet builds on horse’s mane and human’s chaps, or feeding hay to mother cows wintering in cedar breaks, or all of these. Come spring they will work those calves, get the hay equipment ready and then bargain with the banker one more time to stay afloat another year. They are fed by a love for what they do and the independence it brings as well as the individual sensations which burn inside as one looks over a meaningful job done.

The ones who hang those wild rags on the fence are the real monuments to Charles Goodnight as they are to over 200 years of the practice of individual rights – and those who fostered that practice.

I will soon make a track past that “wide spot in the road” to leave an unknown, unseen, unappreciated token by a more northern stream and I plan to turn in and check that fence again. I am sure that the rag I left there before has gone the way of time and wind. But regardless, I will leave another.

If you should pass that way, be sure to stop at that old, majestic house. Certainly, go in the Goodnight Historical Center and review the life of the man. If you are in a spending mood, go across to the shop and look around. If you notice a primitive craft done by a New Mexico hunting guide, purchase it knowing that the proceeds will go to a good cause; or at least to good Irish whiskey. And if you decide to visit a more lonely, windy spot, read the grave marker on Charley and Molly’s resting place. And when you walk by the northwest corner of the fence and notice an emerald green wild rag with some sun-faded corners, you will know that a simple and unworthy admirer has paused there to silently say thanks to one who showed us all how.

Recently I made my own weak attempt at expressing some of the conflicts of tearing down statues simply because we think we find the subject distasteful at the moment (“Statues, History and Truth”). If history is nothing else, it is the continuing story of man with us caught in the middle of a middle chapter with an entire half yet to be lived out and recorded. If we must realize that our perception of that first half shapes how the second half is to be lived, we must also realize that complete truth is necessary in chartering our path.

That is why we cannot hide any part of the past and remain honest. We have to constantly reexamine it. A simple example would be Ty Cobb from “Statues, History and Truth.” If you knew very little about Cobb and was standing in front of the Sports section of your favorite book store, it is possible that the Cobb bios written by Charles Leerhsen and Al Stump might be side-by-side awaiting your choice. Your future opinion of Cobb might well depend on if you picked out the book on the right or the one on the left. Your best decision might be to read them both and then research some more on your own.

Both our perspective of and information about any one person or thing are always subject to change. History may not change but what we know of it and what we think of it certainly can. New letters and journals are found. The long-range results finally come into better focus. Sometimes we simply wake up.

In responding to “Statues, History and Truth” one reader reflected on Robert E. Lee and then asked “can we recognize the greatness of the man without honoring the cause he found for?”

The simple answer is “of course we can, we do it all the time.” The truth remains that the bitterness of the left is not directed at Robert E. Lee or slavery or the Civil War or even skinheads and modern-day make believe Nazis. Their real problem is with history and its lessons.

Long before the name Hannibal was a fictional villain of movies and television it belonged to a cruel but determined Carthaginian general who gave the Roman Republic some of its darkest days during the Second Punic War. He was known to slaughter thousands if not hundreds of thousands. But his statues still stand. We still study his three straight victories over the Romans, especially the double envelopment at Cannae. But the “perfect battle plan” of Chancellorsville seems to be off the table due to the gray coat of its planner.

Caesar fought whole wars to enslave entire nations and completed the task ruthlessly. His statues still stand. His name graces everything from minor products to the grandest of pleasure casinos.

Napoleon drew blood from an entire continent for over a decade but mostly leftists will speak kindly of him. They admire how he centralized the fragmented French social order and enforced statist rule.

The left is not really interested in setting records straight. They are interested in control. That is why no “give-in” will ever satisfy them but only lead to the next and more extreme demand.

When President Trump implied that to take down the Confederate statues would only lead to like demands concerning Founders such as Washington and Jefferson, the condescending denials from the media had hardly been spoken before the likes of Al Sharpton was asking for just that. And since there has been plenty of attention paid to Washington and Jefferson as the drumbeat grows. Even a bust of Lincoln which had sat in Chicago’s 15^th Ward for over 100 year was defaced and burned.

A few days ago a spoiled rich kid from Houston caught up in the fever of leftist rhetoric and “get-even” mentality was caught planning to blow up a statue of Dick Dowling. If you don’t know who Dowling was, he was a young captain of Confederate artillery who turned back a Union invasion force of 5000 with a few field pieces, 47 men and an iron will at Sabine Pass in Texas. He had come to New Orleans with his parents from Ireland and on their death wandered to Texas where he became a businessman on borrowed money (Being Irish he kept some of the best saloons in Houston, hope that wasn’t too stereotypical!!!)

If this sounds outlandish, wait a minute. The next day the mayor of a small town in Ireland received an overseas call demanding that he remove the plaque to Dowling that had been on the Town Hall since the 1880s. One might wonder how this Irish immigrate who never owned a slave (according to all census records available), died before he was 30, is unknown to almost everyone in America and I suspect everyone in Ireland became so important to the cause of “healing” the nation’s scars. The short answer is that healing has nothing to do with it. The idea is to excite, tear apart and distract.

After winning its independence, the infant United States had two major issues to settle. One was, of course, slavery. The other was the role and strength of the government.

The latter issue resulted in the Constitution. And the powers granted in that document were considered to be the most that a free, self-governing people could afford to allow their government. This was no small matter and was hotly debated. The acceptance of the Constitution was no sure thing as anyone can see simply by reading both The Federalist and The Anti-Federalist papers. In fact, reading some of the fears the anti-federalists had about undesired growth of powers granted the central government; it is hard to believe them wrong. Getting the states to accept the Constitution was no small battle and was touch and go through most of the ratification.

New World slavery was hardly confined to this new alliance of relatively small states on the eastern coast of North America. It fact there was less in these states than in any area below them in North or South America. They held only a fraction of the slaves in the Americas.

Even among those Founders who owned slaves, there were few who would defend the practice. At various times both Washington and Jefferson worked on schemes for freeing not just their own slaves but slaves throughout the States. They were not the only ones.

The undeveloped schemes ran from planning estates where the workers would be paid in stages as they attained complete freedom to relocating the freedmen entirely in Africa or some South American island. None of these came about. Neither Washington or Jefferson freed their own slaves until their death but even then there were complication as with Jefferson’s estate which faced the same debts that he made it hard for him to free them while he lived.

The issue was very much (as Jefferson famously said) like “holding a wolf by the ears.” One might desperately want to let go, need to, but couldn’t determine how best to do it and survive.

But ending the “institution” was still always a part of the mentality of the Founding. In writing the Declaration of Independence the Committee of Five purposely replaced “property” with “the pursuit of happiness” because they didn’t want the phrase to be used later as a justification for keeping slavery.

Despite misleading language used by the left today, there is no language in either the Declaration or the Constitution which excludes blacks (or any other race) from the natural rights of man. The statements about rights are all inclusive, purposely so. They just didn’t know how to best turn that wolf’s ears loose. But all of the tools for ending it were built into the Constitution. They knew it had to happen.

Even in the South, there was not wide-spread defense of slavery as an institution until around the 1830s when the economics of the issue had become even more intense because of the invention of the cotton gin and the resulting “cotton culture”.

The conflicts within these imperfect, flawed and very great men are a vital part of an amazing story that took the American Republic down a unique path in the globe’s history. One generation after another struggled with their own conflicts and sincere convictions through several near crisis, armed and bloody confrontation, reconstruction of a nation and the hostilities of a more complete legal inclusion of every element of the national fabric on the way to what is (regardless all the protestations, and straight lies, which deny it) the most equal national social order in history. Each one has its own contribution to the complete story and the lessons offered us as we determine how we will deal with the challenges before us and to come.

It is a wonderful story, the most important secular one in man’s history. It certainly has blemishes because it is lived by mortal men. But those blemishes are perhaps the most vital part of the story because they show how absolutely necessary the principles of our Founding are. They show that those principles cannot be abandoned. They show that good men can allow conflicts to cloud their vision of the principles.

My grandchildren carry the blood of both slaves and slaveholders. But the same is probably true of yours. There is hardly a nation or society in all of history which did not have a history of slavery. Most Europeans have practiced it. Those oh-so civilized ancient Greeks and Romans certainly did. Every group, tribe or nation that practiced war before the end of the Middle Ages certainly did.

The African slaves sent to the New World were almost entirely done so at the hands of African and Moslem traders. Islamic slavers actually enslaved more whites of various origins during this same period, sold throughout the globe.

History is not a search for innocence, or blame. It is a search for the truth in the story.

We have the most amazing national story, ever. It points us toward the natural destiny that is intended for all men. The heritage in that story helps us stay with the path taking us that direction. That destiny is individual human liberty. Our very human, yet principle driven, journey in this one area is an important part of both that path and that heritage.

A complete judgement cannot be made about any part until the story is complete. We, in this age, are not informed enough yet; nor wise enough yet to pronounce the final judgement on any part of it. We can, of course, say which parts do reflect correct principles but we cannot subtract from that history. We can only add to it.

So we can remember a Thomas Jackson (later known as Stonewall) who opposed laws against educating slaves to the point that he risked imprisonment to teach blacks kids to read. We can remember a Robert E. Lee who opposed secession but could not bring himself to fight his native state. We can remember that there were plenty of individuals in the North who were willing to fight to save the union but not to free slaves. We can remember that some in Confederate states opposed both slavery and secession but still in the end wore the gray. We can remember that there were those from the South who did make that terrible choice to take arms against their native state and their kinsmen.

We can remember that they were as human as we are and study them and hopefully learn for the moral decisions we ourselves will have to make in a dangerous, confused and frightening world. We can hope that we will prove worthy of a statue, or a plaque, or even a fleeting thought that can add to that heritage. We can also hope any remembrance of our imperfect but sincere decisions won’t be wiped away by a hasty and prejudiced hand.

We don’t need to remove or hide the reminders of our journey but to fill in around them to make the story as complete as we can at this point in time. We need to understand them as completely as possible in order make our own conflicted judgements as good as they can possibly be.

Then a future generation can, we hope, build on those judgements just as we have stood on the shoulders of others to make new decisions that will take our heritage even closer to that destiny of individual human liberty, to the true embodiment of the American Character.