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Howard Offers to make a Common Reservation
"'I came with the hope of making peace
between you and the citizens, and of thus
saving life and property.'"
Cochise replied: "'I am as much in favor of
peace as anybody. I have not been out to do
mischief for the past year. But I am poor;
my horses are poor and few in number. I
could have taken more on the Tucson road,
but have not done it. I have twelve captains
out in different directions who have been
instructed to go and get their living.'"
Howard then said: "'I should like to make a
common reservation on the Rio Grande for the
Mimbres and Chiricahua Apaches.'"
"'I have been there,' answered Cochise, 'and
like the country and rather than not have
peace will go and take such of our people as
I can, but I am sure it will break my band.
Why not give me a reservation here or at
Apache Pass? Give me that and I will make
peace, protect all the roads, and see that
no property is taken by the Indians.'"
"'Perhaps the Government would be willing to
give you a reservation in that vicinity, but
I think it much better for you and your
people to go to Cañada Alamosa.'"
"'How long will you stay?' Cochise asked at
this point. 'Will you stay until I can get
my captains in and have a talk with them? I
cannot make peace without their advice.'"
"'I came from Washington to meet you for the
purpose of making peace, and I will stay as
long as necessary.'"
Cochise said he would send out runners to
call in his captains, but that this would
require about five days. When mention was
made of Apache Pass, Cochise's manner
changed entirely. He said with bitterness:
"'We were once a numerous tribe, living well
and at peace. But my best friends were taken
by treachery and murdered.
Apache Pass is the worst place. There six
Indians were killed by Bascom and their
bodies were left hanging until they were
skeletons. The Mexicans and Americans kill
an Apache whenever they see him. I have
fought back with all my might. My people
have killed many Mexicans and Americans and
have captured much property. Their losses
are greater than ours; yet I know we are all
the time diminishing in numbers. Why do you
shut us up on a reservation? We want to make
peace, and we will faithfully keep it; but
let us go wherever we please, as the
Americans do.'"
Howard answered: "'All this country does not
belong to the Indians. It belongs to the
Almighty, and all His children have an
interest in it, so metes and bounds must be
fixed in order to keep the peace. Such a
peace as you propose would not last more
than a week. If some rough prospectors for
mines, always moving well armed, should fire
upon and kill members of your band, or if
some of your uncontrollable young men should
take the property and lives of
citizens--then this peace would be at an
end.'"
During the eleven days that Howard was in
his stronghold, Cochise did not again refer
to the grievances of the Apaches. To his
passionate declaration that the Americans
had been the aggressors, Howard replied that
many Americans thought what he said was
true. " 'But now,' he continued, 'we want
such horrid work as war, murder, and robbery
to close.' "
At this Cochise, with a pleasant smile, said
gravely: " 'I am glad you came.' "
"I then told him that it would be necessary
for me in some way to notify the neighboring
posts where I was and what I was trying to
do, and to get some food, for we were out,
and told him that Captain Sladen could go to
Fort Bowie and do it for me. He shook his
head and said he would like to have me go.
The soldiers would listen to me. Captain
Jeffords and Captain Sladen could stay with
him, and he would take care of them. Chie
consented to go with me as a guide. We then
all mounted and rode through a canyon to the
outside of our handsome prison, Cochise and
several of his Indians accompanying us. The
view from this point on the western
foot-hills is grand; mountains and valleys,
rivers and canyons lie beneath you in plain
sight. I did not wonder that the Indians
delighted in their magnificent home. We
stopped by a large flat stone under the
shade of a tree. Cochise said:
"'My home.'"
Riding straight east, by a narrow trail at
first, and then through rough canyons and
along precipitous mountainsides, at great
peril, and often in sore pain inflicted by
the savage vegetation along the way,
sometime before dawn Howard came out onto
the Sulphur Spring Valley by way of the East
Stronghold. At Sulphur Spring they were able
to get a cart and two fresh mules to take
them to the Fort, which they reached an hour
after sun-up. They had traveled fifty-four
miles during the night. Leaving the
necessary orders at the Fort, Howard was
back at Cochise's camp the second day.
Cochise and Sladen were watching for him
from a high point in the mountains and came
eagerly down to greet him. During Howard's
absence some of Cochise's men came in and
stated that they had killed five Americans.
Said Cochise: "I do not think the troops can
follow the trail of my Indians, but if they
do, they will be in here tonight, and we
will have a fight." Jeffords explained to
Sladen that if the soldiers followed the
trail, and there was a fight, the troops
would be beaten. He told the Captain that if
he preferred to leave, the Indians would
conduct him in safety to General Howard.
Like a sensible man, as well as a brave
soldier, Sladen said he would remain.
Cochise moved his camp up among the rocks,
and the Indians made a bed for Sladen and
Jeffords. It was planned by Cochise that if
the soldiers came in upon them the women and
children would be taken out of the camp
beyond possible danger. The braves, in the
meantime, were placed in a position to
resist any attack. When General Howard
returned, he looked over Cochise's defensive
arrangement, and said that no General in the
Army of the United States could have made a
better disposition of his men to resist an
attack from a superior force.
Cochise now took Howard's party to a new
camping place well up in the foothills,
north of the entrance to his stronghold. Six
miles away was a globular hill, rising
symmetrically about three hundred feet above
the plain. Here Cochise set up a white flag.
After a few days, the chief captains and
warriors having now arrived, a council was
held. Cochise insisted upon a reservation in
the mountains and valleys adjacent to their
present meeting place. Here were his
favorite strongholds, and from infancy this
region had been his home. To this Howard
finally agreed. One more firm demand was
made by Cochise, namely: that Jeffords
should serve as their agent. To this
Jeffords stoutly objected. He had no taste
for the office of Indian Agent, for no one
better knew its difficulties. Besides, it
would mean no small financial loss to him.
But Cochise was inflexible; and, eager for
the peace, Jeffords consented, with the
stipulation that he was to have absolute
authority in dealing with the tribe, without
political interference of any sort.
A curious and solemn ceremony--what Jeffords
called a prayer meeting--took place the
evening after the council. On a little
plateau near Howard's bivouac the Indians
met to consult the spirits. First, there was
"the muffled voices of many women,
apparently imitating the low moaning of the
winds. Then all --men and women--sang with
ever-increasing volume of sound, and the
women's voices rose higher and higher. It
was a wild, weird performance. In due time a
rough, tall, muscular Apache, his long hair
hanging in braids down his back, came
running toward Howard, spoke gently, and
invited all the white men to join the band
on the plateau. . . . When the singing
ceased the men kept on talking but without
rising. Then an authoritative voice silenced
all the others. It was Cochise speaking in a
mournful recitative. The whole case was
evidently being discussed and a decision
reached." (Howard O. O. My Life and
Experiences among Our Hostile Indians. A. D.
Worthington and Company. Hartford, 1907.)
These were anxious and solemn moments for
Howard and his friends, for they could not
tell which way the tide was flowing. But the
spirits were favorable to the peace, and the
answer was rendered thus by Cochise:
"'Hereafter the white man and the Indian are
to drink of the same water, eat of the same
bread, and be at peace.'"
"Word had been sent to the officers at Fort
Bowie to meet Howard and Cochise and their
joint party at Dragoon Springs; so the day
after the conference everyone set out to
conclude the whole affair in cooperation
with the local military authorities. Cochise
was hideous in fresh vermillion war paint,
and as he rode at the head of his mounted,
excited, yelling, charging warriors, his
aspect was fierce and repellent. As the
column of blue-coated soldiers appeared in
the plain below, marching steadily toward
them, suspicion and uneasiness was apparent
among the Indians. It was a critical moment.
Any mis-step might have set them in a panic.
When he reached the appointed place, Cochise
stationed his warriors with consummate
military judgment--an evidence that he still
suspected treachery." (Ibid.) Howard wrote:
" Cochise located his men with such skill
that everyone of them could, in two minutes,
have been safely under the cover of a
ravine, and in three minutes more have
escaped behind a projecting hill, and so
have passed to the mountains without the
least hindrance." (Ibid.)
But all ended happily. Every detail of the
peace was completed. The reservation granted
to the Chiricahuas was about fifty-five
miles square, extending to the Sonora border
and including the Chiricahua and the Dragoon
Mountains, and the San Simon and Sulphur
Spring Valleys. When the conference finally
broke up, the Indians were very happy,
talking and laughing as they gathered about
the ambulance in which the officers had
ridden from Fort Bowie. After all was over,
and Howard was about to take his departure
for Tucson, Cochise looked at him steadily a
moment, then approaching, put his arms
around him and said plainly in English,
"Good-by."
Governor A. P. K. Safford published in the
Arizona Citizen of December 7, 1872, a fine
account of a visit he made to Cochise in the
East Stronghold of the Dragoon Mountains two
months after Howard had taken his departure.
"Having been in the field of his bloody work
nearly four years," the Governor writes,
"and having at times endeavored to find him
after the commission of dire crimes, but
generally being compelled to travel in such
condition that he was the last man I desired
to meet, it will not be a subject of wonder
that I had a curiosity to meet him and see
who and what he is." Captain Jeffords
conducted him into Cochise's presence.
Indeed, Cochise in war paint, with a number
of his warriors, rode out on the plain to
meet the Governor's party. "He dismounted,
and throwing his long, bony arms around
Captain Jeffords, embraced him with the
apparent fondness a mother would her child.
His example was followed by each one of the
party. Captain Jeffords then called me and
said:
"'This is the old man.'
"'What old man?' I asked.
" 'Cochise,' he replied.
"When informed who I was Cochise cordially
greeted me and we all sat down in a circle
to have a talk. His height is about six
feet; shoulders slightly rounded by age;
features quite regular; head large and
well-proportioned; countenance rather sad;
hair long and black, with some gray ones
intermixed; face smooth, the beard having
been pulled out with pincers as is the
custom of the Indians. He wore a shirt, with
pieces of cotton cloth about his loins and
head, and moccasins covered his feet. He is
thought to be about sixty years old.
"I found him camped among the rocks at the
foot of the mountains--a place evidently
selected with care to prevent surprises, and
from which with five minutes' notice he
could move his band beyond the successful
pursuit of cavalry. His lodge consisted of a
few sticks set up in a circle, and skins
placed around the base to break off the
wind. Here he has about four hundred Indians
of all ages. He has three wives. The last or
youngest lives with him in his lodge and
makes his clothes and does his cooking. Each
of the others has a separate lodge and their
respective children live with them.
"After breakfast, a cloth was spread upon
the ground and the head men were gathered
around in a circle. Cochise then said he
would like to have a talk. He said he was
glad to see me, and the fact that I had come
among them unprotected was an evidence that
I had confidence in his professions of
peace. He then said that prior to the
ill-treatment that he had received from
Lieutenant Bascom, he had been a good friend
of the Americans and that since that time he
believed he had been their worst enemy; that
the time was within his memory when the
plains were covered with herds and the
mountains were filled with Apaches, but now
the herds are all gone, and the number of
Apaches greatly reduced; that when he opened
hostilities against the Americans he and his
tribe made a promise to fight to hold the
country until the last one was exterminated,
but now he was determined to live at peace
with everyone on this side of the Mexican
line. He said that he liked General Howard
because he had the heart to come and see
him, but for a long time previous the only
friends he had were the rocks, that behind
them he had concealed himself and they had
often protected him from death by warding
off the bullets of his enemies."
Governor Safford states that the Chiricahuas
all told at that time numbered almost two
thousand; (This statement is in error. They
numbered less than one thousand.) that they
had been permitted to retain their property
and their arms; and that they were well
mounted and carried breech-loading guns.
They declared at the outset that they would
not place themselves under the military
authorities, and, accordingly, were now
under no control except that which they
voluntarily conceded to the Agent, to whose
requests they had always conformed since he
had been placed over them. Armed and
recuperated as they then were, Safford
thought that they were more formidable than
they had ever been, for they could live on
the natural resources of the country, and in
their native mountains, almost impassable
for man or beast, could continue to resist
such superior forces as could be brought
against them, as Cochise had done for more
than a decade. However, because of Jeffords'
great influence over them, Governor Safford
was hopeful that the peace with the
Chiricahuas would be enduring. "Jeffords,"
the Governor writes, "is respected as an
honorable man by all who know him. He had
held interviews with Cochise for three years
before peace was made by Howard, and was the
only white man who had been in his camp for
twelve years and had returned alive. . . .
This act [of entering Cochise's camp alone]
inspired Cochise with profound respect for
his courage and sincerity. He brought
Cochise to Cafiada Alamosa in 1871, and led
General Howard to his camp in 1872."
In 1874, only a short time before the death
of Cochise, Al Williamson, a youth of
eighteen, was a clerk in the trading post
run by Tully, Ochoa, and De Long at Fort
Bowie. On several occasions Cochise came
into the store and Al saw him, talked with
him, and heard him talk. Williamson
describes Cochise as tall, straight, with
long hair bound about with a folded red
flannel band, but without feathers. He had a
Roman nose. Nachez, the younger son of the
chief, was much like his father in build and
appearance. But Taza, the oldest son, did
not resemble him. He had a pleasant, smiling
face, and was large. One day Al weighed Taza,
and with nothing on but his serape of muslin
and his loin cloth, he turned the scales at
one hundred and ninety-nine pounds. Cochise
never smiled. He was severe and grave of
aspect. The officers would invite him in to
drink with them; and he drank copiously. But
he would never stay at the Fort after
sundown, however much he might enjoy his
drinking. He would mount his horse and be
off; and he made it a strict requirement for
his people that they should always leave the
post before sundown. He rarely bought things
at the store, but once he came in with a
large, beautifully dressed elk skin to sell;
and, when Al offered him ten dollars for it,
he accepted the price without a quibble and
turned back five dollars of this amount for
a woolen shirt.
During these last months of Cochise's life,
according to Williamson's report, a certain
Sefior Juan Luna came up from Frontéras with
two ten-mule wagonloads of beans and corn
that he wanted to sell to Tully and Ochoa at
the Fort Bowie sutler's store. He was
accompanied by a colonel and twenty of the
most ragged Mexican soldiers that one could
imagine. They were shown a camping place
near by. Juan Luna said he would like to
make a treaty with Cochise to come across
his reservation regularly with goods to sell
to the sutlers. Word was sent to Cochise and
an appointment was made for a talk with Juan
Luna, but he told him to bring no soldiers
with him. They met in the presence of some
of the Fort Bowie people, Cochise bringing
with him his interpreter, Narbona, who had
lived in Mexico, and Luna coming also
accompanied by one of his men.
Cochise came in a flaming temper and fairly
scorched Luna with sarcasm and fiery
denunciation. "You come in here," he said,
"and ask to make a treaty with me and to
cross my reservation with your wagons and
goods. You forget what the Mexicans did to
my people long ago when we were at peace
with the Americans, and you would get my
people down into your country, get them
drunk on mescal and furnish them with powder
and lead and tell them to come up and get
the big mules from the Americans. And when
they would commit a depredation and steal
mules and bring them back to your country,
your people would get them drunk on mescal
and cheat them out of the mules.
"Now you are asking for a treaty for safe
conduct across my reservation to sell to
Tully and Ochoa. Tully and Ochoa are friends
of mine, and anyone who wants to bring their
produce and trade with them are entirely
welcome. But I want to warn you that you
shall never cross the American line again
with an escort of soldiers. You've got
twenty soldiers, and what do they amount to!
I can take five of my men and wipe them off
of the earth and capture you. I've signed a
treaty of peace with the United States and
am living up to that treaty, so that no one
need to fear to cross my reservation, for he
will be perfectly safe." He went on further
to say that he objected to having soldiers
from a foreign country come in and ask his
protection when he was carrying on no
depredations.
While he was talking in such heat, one of
his Indians got so worked up that he raised
his gun and wanted to shoot Juan Luna.
Cochise peremptorily stopped him with a
motion of his hand, and the Indian was so
mad and excited that, as reported by the
Americans present, he sat down and wept.
(The above items were carefully taken down
by the author from interviews with Mr. Al
Williamson, a well-known citizen of Arizona
and a man of great intelligence and fine
character, a few months before his death,
October 19, 1934.)
It will be seen from all that has been said
above that, though born and bred a savage,
Cochise was a man of distinction. His only
home was a wickiup that could be constructed
in half an hour and vacated, without leaving
any of its furnishings behind, in half a
minute; yet he had the same qualities of
person, intellect, and decision that mark
our leaders among the civilized nations of
men. All public men who met him testify to a
certain poise and dignity of character that
was at once natural and masterful. His ways
were not the ways of the white man; he was
trained in the age-long school of savagery;
yet, in physical prowess, force of
character, and mental acumen, he was able to
match whatever white foes were sent against
him.
Cochise was a man of like passions with
other men, of whatever time or race. He
loved and he hated; he got drunk and beat
his wives; he swore to his own hurt but
changed not; he was subject to pride,
cruelty, pity, and honor; he reflected
deeply upon the probability of a life after
death. His nature was not simple or shallow,
but complex and passionate. The exhibitions
of such a character are all the more
interesting because they reveal themselves
in both powerful and untutored ways. They
are independent of civilized and
conventional standards. Whatever movements
of the spirit came to the surface in his
wild and exposed career arose from the deeps
of primitive human nature.
After the peace Jeffords, by authority of
President Grant, had sole jurisdiction over
the Chiricahua reservation. Neither soldier,
civilian, nor Government official could come
upon the reservation without his permission.
The stolen horses and other ill-gotten
property in the hands of the Chiricahuas at
the time peace was declared were given back
to their owners. During his lifetime, which
extended only two years beyond the making of
peace, Cochise sat always at Jeffords' right
hand and his authority was always faithfully
exerted for the preservation of peace.
Emissaries from the White Mountain Apaches
sought on more than one occasion to enlist
the support of the Chiricahuas, but these
efforts were in vain. To the end, Cochise
was faithful to the terms he had entered
into with Howard; and when he died, he
advised his people never to go on the
warpath against the whites. Before his death
he requested Jeffords to continue to look
after his own immediate group. Jeffords
replied: "I am only one, and they are over
three hundred, and they won't do what I ask
them to do unless they want to." Cochise
then called in the headmen of his own group,
and in their presence selected his oldest
son to be his successor and won their
consent to do as Jeffords advised them.
Jeffords dealt with them as a friend and
guardian. Their rights were safeguarded in
every way possible and he did his best to
see that they got justice. He made his
reports directly to the Department of the
Interior, and when another agent took his
place, his accounts were audited in
Washington. Though the usual amount for
which an Indian agent was placed under bond
was ten thousand dollars, Jeffords was under
bond for five times that amount; yet,
contrary to the usual slow procedure in
releasing the bondsmen from their
responsibility, Jeffords' audit was
completed and his guarantors released three
months after he turned over his office.
The final parting of Jeffords and Cochise
was affecting. Cochise had been ill for a
long time, was very weak, and knew that his
end was approaching. Jeffords had provided
the best medical aid possible and had stayed
with him as much as he could. But the time
came when he must go to the agency to issue
rations to the Indians; and, as he was about
to depart, Cochise said:
"Chickasaw, do you think you will ever see
me alive again?"
"No, I do not think I will," Jeffords
replied. "I think that by tomorrow night you
will be dead."
Said Cochise: "Yes, I think so, too--about
ten o'clock tomorrow morning. Do you think
we will ever meet again?"
Somewhat taken aback, Jeffords answered: "I
don't know. What is your opinion about it?"
"I have been thinking a good deal about it
while I have been sick here, and I believe
we will; good friends will meet again--up
there."
"Where?" his friend asked.
"That I do not know--somewhere; up yonder, I
think," pointing to the sky.
Sure enough, he died about ten o'clock the
next morning. He was then in the East
Stronghold, his favorite location. As the
end drew on, he requested some of his braves
to carry him up the slope a little way to
the westward so that he might see the sun
rise over the eastern ranges once more.
The accepted report as to his burial place,
which derived from Jeffords, the only white
man who knew the circumstances of his
interment and who outlived him forty years
without ever pointing out the exact spot, is
that his body was buried somewhere on the
mesa, near the entrance to the East
Stronghold and that the Indians rode their
horses back and forth over the grave many
times so that the exact spot could not
possibly be identified. There is another
account of his interment that has impressed
me very much, and seems to me more in
keeping with Apache ways, and on the whole
more probable.
On two occasions Al Williamson told me
circumstantially that at Fort Bowie, a short
time after the death of Cochise, Jeffords
informed him that the sepulture of Cochise
was after this manner: He was dressed in his
best war garments, decorated with war paint
and head feathers, and wrapped in a splendid
heavy, red, woolen blanket that Colonel
Henry C. Hooker had given him. He was then
placed on his favorite horse, with one of
his braves riding behind him to hold him in
place. Followed by many Indians, the horse
was guided to a rough and lonely place among
the rocks and chasms in the stronghold,
where there was a very deep fissure in the
cliff. The horse was killed and dropped into
the depths; also, Cochise's favorite dog.
His gun and other arms were then thrown in;
and, last, Cochise was lowered with lariats
into his rocky sepulcher--deep in the gorge.
Bibliography
Connell Charles T. "The Apache Past and
Present." In Tucson Citizen, May 29, 1921.
De S. R Long. The History of Arizona. 1905.
Farish T. E. History of Arizona, Vol. 11.
Phoenix, 1915.
Howard O. O. "Account of His Mission to the
Apaches and Navajos." In Washington Daily
Morning Chronicle, November 10, 1872.
Howard O. O. My Life and Experiences among
Our Hostile Indians. A. D. Worthington and
Company, Hartford. 1907.
Irwin B. J. D. "The Apache Pass Fight." In
The Military Surgeon, October, 1933,
Washington, D.C.
Russell Don. One Hundred and Three Fights
and Scrimmages. Washington, United States
Cavalry Association, 1936.
Williamson Al. Williamson interviewed by the
author, June 10, 1934.
Wood Charles Morgan. Extracts from Records
in the War Department. November, 1856, to
February, 1861.
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