Helen Churchill Candee & Oklahoma Boosterism (Part Two)

HCC SmallIf for some strange reason you’ve not already read Part One several times already and copied favorite bits onto sticky notes to post around your bedroom and kitchen, I there waxed adoring over Helen Churchill Candee and her first extensive article about life in Oklahoma Territory, published in The Forum, June 1898. She wrote at least three other articles about O.T. in the time she lived there, all very positive towards her temporary homeland but varied in style and focus. 

The shortest of these was published only a month after the Forum piece in Lippencott’s Monthly Magazine (July 1898). Lippencott’s had been around since just after the Civil War and was well-known for its literary criticisms, science articles, and other general-interest-type essays and stories. It’s the magazine which first published The Picture of Dorian Gray (Oscar Wilde) and which convinced Arthur Conan Doyle to write a second adventure (The Sign of the Four) featuring this “Sherlock Holmes” character he’d introduced a few years before.

You get the idea.

Oklahoma Claims” takes a far more narrative format than her other O.T. essays, consisting largely of Candee’s (fictionalized?) account of riding out to a claim with a good ol’ boy named “Ollin” and his “buxom niece,” Leora. It’s dialect-heavy, somewhat humorous, and the closest of the four pieces to almost actually criticizing homesteaders or others in the Territory who took advantage of the system.

As we rode along over the red rutted roads that cross the prairies, Ollin remarked,—

“My woman won’t go to the claim, for she says if I ever get her there she’ll have to stay an’ hol’ it down. But that ain’t so, for we’ve lived there long enough every year to satisfy the law, an’ I’m just about ready to prove up and sell it.”

“That isn’t what ‘Uncle Sam’ gave it to you for, is it? Weren’t the claims given away so that each man could have a chance to provide a settled home for his family, and land enough to support them if well cultivated?”

Ollin’s leathery face wrinkled into a smile; his small blue eyes lost their habitual look of searching, which had been gained through years of prairie work with Indians, outlaws, and herds. 

“Uncle Sam is an awful nice man,” he drawled, “but he’s got to sit up all night to be up early enough for Oklahoma folks. There’s slick ways of holdin’ down claims you’d never dream of…” 

The “hundred an’ sixty” refers to acres, the standard size of a plot under the Homestead Act (1862) and generally followed for homesteads in O.T.  Town lots, of course, were substantially smaller.

”There’s our girl, now,” and he glanced at the bovine maiden, who had, however, a shrewd look in her eyes and a general air of self-possession. “She’s got a claim up in the Strip, but she lives with my woman an’ me. Every two weeks she takes some one with her an’ goes to spend a Sunday. That’s an awful nice way to earn a hundred an’ sixty, ain’t it?”

I’d like to be the kind of reader who goes high road on stuff like “the bovine maiden,” but it’s funny and effective beyond its role as essentially a ‘fat joke.’ It implies much about the niece’s true personality and intellect – not all of it bad, certainly, but largely unflattering. Combine that with “a shrewd look in her eyes and a general air of self-possession” and we’ve got the sort of condensed characterization far more typical of a strong short story than an informational piece. 

Still, we somehow keep getting informed:

“But I thought that the government demanded that a homesteader should improve the land,” I suggested. 

“That’s right. Our girl’s nobody’s fool. She’s let her claim to a family who farms it an’ goes half on the profits,” he responded, with an admiring glance at the clumsy monument of shrewdness, whose ample form and voluminous drapery hid all of her wiry pony save hoofs, head, and tail.

Much like a political cartoon, painting the niece as comically obese implies she’s something of a ‘weight’ or burden on the system, or society. Perhaps lazy, perhaps dull, she’s the antithesis of everything an Oklahoma homesteader was expected to be – from her gender to her work ethic to her ability. Candee would never stoop to overtly suggesting such a thing, of course, but she makes sure that Ollin’s admiration for her is suspect throughout – not because he’s insincere, but because we recognize the general absurdity in his evaluations of both people and circumstances. 

“You should have seen the day the Cherokee Strip was opened. She rode right in with the best of them, lickity-split through bush an’ timber an’ draws till she left most of ‘em behind, an’ then out she whipped her gun an’ a hatchet an’ began to chop the sprouts off a black-jack. ‘Whatcher doin’, Leora?’ I hollers as I was a scootin’ past. ‘Improvin’ my lan’!’ she yells back; an’ I’m blessed if that very thing didn’t save her when some feller tried to driver her off—that an’ her gun.”

That Leora – she’s a feisty one alright. 

“Did you run for a claim in the Strip when you had one here in the original territory of Oklahoma?” I asked the question as a reproach, for I did not like to discovery chicanery in a son of the prairies. 

“Yes, I run for one,” returned Ollin, with a sheepish laugh. “First, off I started in to help our girl, but when I saw her get so quick suited I looked out for number one. I got a mighty nice place, too, an’ set there four hours happy as a horned toad. Then four fellers come along an’ pointed their guns at me an’ tol’ me that was their claim and I’d better get off. So I got off. But it was a blamed shame. I had no more right to it ‘n you have, but they might ‘a’ let me alone till some feller come along I could sell it to. That was all I wanted.”

Now, Olin was an honest man, but who could resist the temptation to grab when a free grab-bag is opened by the government? Besides, the man who has once led a life of adventure can rarely settle down permanently to conventional regularity. 

And there it is. Candee won’t deny the “chicanery” she observes, but neither will she generally condemn the individuals partaking in it. Ollin didn’t mean to violate the system – it just kinda happened. Who could resist the temptation when the government set things up in such a way? Besides, he’s an adventurer by nature – a knight errant, of sorts. Only not. 

Clearly a Joss Whedon fan, Candee uses plot and humor to frame pith and poignancy, often at the most unexpected moments:

…{B}ut life on a claim is narrower than life in a city tenement. Fancy two rivals living on the same quarter-section, hating each other as bitterly as ever did contestants for a throne. For these the whole world is narrowed down to one hundred and sixty acres, and all evil is concentrated in the person of the other claimant. 

Remember that both men have regarded his venture in a new country as the last throw of the dice, and to lose now means a living death. Brooding over the threatened loss, feeling that earthly happiness can be secured only by the removal of the obnoxious one, it is small wonder if some day one of the men is found murdered… 

Well that turned dark rather quickly. Note, though, that yet again, circumstances drive vice – not the moral failings of the individual. 

He has found the processes of the law too slow, and has exhausted his funds in lawyers’ fees. If neither the law nor the Lord would give relief, he must seek it with his own hands; he has a wife and children dependent on him; he is sure of the priority of his arrival on the claim; and so, persuaded by reason and crazed by apprehension, he kills his adversary. 

And then we’re quickly back to Ollin and his corpulent niece, discussing their homesteading shenanigans. We’re left well-informed – a reader wishes to feel educated for having read, after all – but nonetheless sympathetic towards those not created by this universe to rest easily at the top of every food chain. 

We’re left somehow caring about these desperate, backwards souls. 

We’ll get a much-expanded and far more serious look at the Territory a few years later when she writes for the folks back east again. She’s also going to make a weird dis on bicycles. 

Next time.

Helen Churchill Candee & Oklahoma Boosterism (Part One)

Helen C. CandeeHelen Churchill Candee came to Guthrie, Oklahoma Territory (O.T.) in the mid-1890s, primarily drawn by its lax divorce laws. She brought her two children, Edith and Harold, and ended up staying for several years. I carried on at some length ]]last time about how fascinating I’ve come to find this enigmatic chronicler – particularly in terms of her empathetic pith and generous promotion of early Oklahoma.  

It’s really quite unhealthy on my part, I’m sure. 

Candee was already a freelance writer when she arrived in O.T.  Before arriving in Guthrie, she’d mostly done pieces on lifestyle tips, social etiquette, or other types of “women’s writing.” 

(In digging around for these earliest bits, I’ve ended up spending way too much time absorbed in old issues of Ladies’ Home Journal and whatnot. It starts innocently enough, hunting down H.C.C. columns and capturing them before noticing surrounding articles and ads. A fortnight later, I stumble into the living room unshaven and half-starved, wondering what day it is and whether or not I’m fired. I’m either a very deep researcher or a tragic example of what happens when you don’t get out more.)

Eventually Candee would be recognized as an authority on a number of historical and cultural topics, but it was during her time in Oklahoma that three important things happened to make the rest possible. First, she got her divorce and escaped an abusive relationship with an angry, insecure man. Second, in January 1900, she published her first book, How Women May Earn a Living, which was commercially successful as well as critically well-received.

Finally, and most importantly for our purposes, she became one of the most influential voices in promoting Oklahoma Territory as a valuable – if misunderstood – part of the nation. Her boosterism, though at times a bit ambitious, seems sincere. She stood out from fellow Okla-dvocates with her colorful ‘voice’ and her penetrating perspective – seeming to ‘zoom’ in and out smoothly, briefly capturing individuals while summarizing decades. 

She brought a moral clarity and insight expected of a woman with the confident authority and knowledgeable tone presumed from a man.

The earliest Pro-klahoma piece of Candee’s (of which I’m aware) was for The Forum, an ambitious periodical known for its “symposium” features, in which prominent thinkers or authors would debate various sides of contemporaneous social and political issues. The magazine had already featured several essays by future President Theodore Roosevelt, and over the years managed consistent respectability with bursts of greatness, publishing notables-to-be and tackling complex issues via diverse voices. 

In short, it was fairly legit. 

Candee opens “Social Conditions In Our Newest Territory” (June 1898) with what I suspect is a nod to The Forum’s reputation for dialectic: 

“No matter what people tell you to the contrary, there is not a man in this town who would stay if he could get out.” This was the pessimistic remark of a prominent Oklahoman to a stranger, made in a weary time of waiting for a Government appointment; but, fortunately for the growth of the Territory, there are those within its bounds who do not feel that way. They see in the new country a chance to make a fresh start, unhampered by the competition of crowded districts, and relieved of the over-stimulation of haste.

The piece goes on to backstory the territory’s openings, its developmental hiccups, and its reputation for lawlessness. While her tone suggests a certain resignation towards the bureaucratic foibles of Washington, D.C., she somehow covers the corruption inherent to Oklahoma’s birth without actually condemning the Territory or anyone in it. Even her recap of trouble with “sooners” – arguably the most foul creatures to ever soil our past – has an almost “boys will be boys” spirit:

For several weeks before the opening, the country, then being ready for the reception of homesteaders, was cleared of all individuals except the soldiers stationed there to prevent the arrival of “sooners.” The latter, however, ingeniously effaced themselves for the time only; for, when the signal gun was fired, they seemed to rise from the ground, as though Cadmus had been on earth again sowing the fabled dragon’s teeth. 

They “ingeniously effaced themselves”? She means they hid – those same soldiers being paid by taxpayer dollars to keep out cheaters – and subsequently robbed those foolish enough to follow the rules and trust the system. Candee doesn’t condone the behavior exactly, but she tells it like a preacher recounting the time they snuck beer into the dorms rather than condemning the individuals involved. 

Cadmus ended sparking a new community by following a cow, conquering some water issues, then farming – albeit with teeth. The allusion may simply be a nice turn of phrase, but it certainly lends some mythical mojo to what were otherwise dirty land swindlers – also known as the first generation of successful Oklahomans. 

I’m just saying. 

Men who had herded cattle, and those who had traded with the Indians for years, were not to be outdone by the vigilance of soldiers ignorant of sheltering “draws,” hidden “dug-outs,” and obscuring fastnesses of scrub-oak and blue-stem. “A feller had to keep mighty quiet until the marshal’s gun fired,” said a successful “sooner”; “every draw kept fillin’ with men all night long; an’ it was hard to keep from seein’ and bein’ seen.”

It’s a great story, even today. Of course, it’s been 125 years or so and every last hiding cheating sooner is long dead (may their souls burn forever). As of Candee’s writing, many of those cases were still in court, or resolved at gunpoint, or had simply led to the law-abiding sucker leaving empty-handed, having sacrificed everything for that one last chance. 

She does not so much condone as capture these men and their motivations – not via explanation or argument, but with poignant snapshots of words and moments. It is, after all, difficult to truly revile or condemn anyone we begin to understand. That is arguably Candee’s greatest strength, at least when writing about Oklahoma; she refuse to give up on the individual, even when decrying the system or the crowd.

It was a crowd of determined, almost desperate, men and women, many of whom, having failed in the fight for prosperity, had gathered here for a fresh trial. 

You can’t frame a government-sponsored ‘Hunger Games’ much more nobly than that. And she’s not wrong – at their most ideal, that’s exactly what the Oklahoma land openings were. 

Every man’s hand was against his fellow. His neighbor on the right, placed there by accident, might be the one who would beat him in the race… and, when finally the signal was given, a mad race began, the results of which make interesting history. All men started as enemies. The reward was to the selfish and to the bully; and greed and strength were the winners. 

She discusses the many disputes over lots, leading to prolonged legal action in the best cases, and bloodshed in the worst. Note, however, the tone – a sort of heartfelt hurting on behalf of those involved. The villain seems to be cruel universe or a distant bureaucracy; never the hard-working individuals. 

So much litigation is an expense which all cannot bear; and many a rightful contestant loses his claim for want of money to defend it. This condition of injustice and criminality is passing away as the time allotted by the Government for “proving up” approaches expiration; but the hatred engendered in each man’s breast was an unhappy handicap in the settlement of a new country. 

Besides this, the uncertainty, whether a man is or is not the permanent possessor of the land, robs him of ambition to improve it; for he may be working for the good of one whom he would rather kill than benefit. 

A little plug for clear property rights and an efficient legal system there. 

As I have said, the men who rushed into the Territory, and located themselves on claims, were actuated by an impelling necessity, the instinct of self-preservation, excepting always a few adventurers, who ultimately passed to more attractive fields. 

“Actuated by an impelling necessity.” If I could *phew!*-whistle in print while raising my eyebrows, here’s where I’d do it. 

Candee’s affection for her adopted state arguably rose-colors her rhetoric, but she stops short of denying all of Oklahoma’s flaws or justifying its sins. She instead chronicles the essentials while persistently searching past them for humanity and meaning. I’ve opted not to rehash her accounting of crop development, the placement of townships, or the other logistics she conveys so efficiently. Those things are of interest historically, but not germane to her voice, her writing’s “soul,” if you’ll indulge me. 

Candee is reporting, and documenting, and – let’s be honest – entertaining, but in the end, more than anything, she’s advocating. She’s making a case for a slighted Territory to be better understood and appreciated by its very distant cousins back home.

A thorn in the side of the Oklahoman is the indifference with which the Territory is treated in the East. He and his fellow feel themselves to be more loyal Americans than are New-Yorkers, and to be doing more than they to increase the spirit of patriotism… 

It is here that pure patriotism and Americanism are found. Idlers here have time to loaf; thinkers have time to deduce; and the man of ability and ambition outstrips his fellows. In this far district is again illustrated the truism, that when all men start life equal, in a few years each will find his natural level.

I don’t think that’s always true, but I love that she did – and that maybe, for a moment, it was a little.

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Nuptial Benedictions (The Divorce Industry in Oklahoma Territory)

Between the first “land run” opening up the “Unassigned Lands” of Indian Territory in 1889 and statehood in 1907, Oklahoma filled up rapidly. 

There were a variety of reasons, of course. The “frontier” was rapidly closing and Oklahoma Territory was the last hope of true homesteading on the continent. Early reports suggested fertile soil and cooperative climate – descriptions which would later be recalled in wry reflection by those who’d embraced them. Then there was the sheer newness and unpredictability of it all – in a nation built on restlessness and possibilities, that alone was sometimes enough.

Oh – and of course, it was a great place to get a divorce. 

The Nation 1893Oklahoma is trying hard to outbid all of its neighbors in the matter of granting easy and quick divorce. An attorney at Kingfisher, in that Territory, has issued a circular which points out that the statutes of Oklahoma specify no fewer than “ten separate and distinct causes, for any one or more of which a divorce may be obtained,” including that all-embracing term, “gross neglect of duty”…

{T}he statute required only three months’ residence in the Territory; and finally, that “persons coming to Oklahoma will find the city of Kingfisher, with its 4,000 inhabitants and all modern improvements, a very pleasant place to live in.” Apparently Indiana, Chicago, and South Dakota are all to be outdone in the divorce line by Oklahoma. 

–The Nation, July 13, 1893

Divorces weren’t easy to come by in much of the country – especially older states like New York, which were so conservative and obsessed with family values compared to renegades like Oklahoma. In some cases it literally took an act of the state congress; in most it required proving blatant infidelity or substantial abuse. You could move to a state with less-restrictive divorce laws, but establishing residency in the eyes of the law often took a year or more, and the variety of local obstacles could prove dizzying. 

Even then, the spouse from whom one sought separation was often required to be physically present in order to secure legal disentanglement – something they might not be willing to do if they were for some reason unhappy with you… say, for instance, if you were in the middle of a divorce. 

But not in Oklahoma Territory. They wanted fresh blood and they weren’t overly particular how they secured it. Besides, Oklahoma was all about new beginnings during this period – fresh starts, and unlimited optimism. Ironic, right?

We weren’t alone in promoting the divorce business. South Dakota for a time set the standard for shameless pandering to the corrupted and unfaithful. We taught them a thing or two, however about breaking up not being at all hard to do. 

Outlook 1894

{O}ur divorce laws are both lax and conflicting. A man may be divorced in one State, yet still be married in another; hence in one State he may marry again, while in another he becomes a bigamist if he does. The unsavory reputation which South Dakota has lately enjoyed is but another reminder of the necessity for uniform divorce legislation throughout the country. 

In the inducements, however, by which it seeks to obtain its share of this infamous divorce trade the Territory of Oklahoma goes beyond South Dakota…

Our priorities have changed, but our compulsive, legislative need to be the worst in every preventable category has remained remarkably consistent over a century later. 

The statutes of Oklahoma Territory require ninety days’ previous residence before commencement of action, as in South Dakota before the change of law.

OK, we didn’t so much beat them on the residency thing so much as they retreated slightly. Wimps.  

But we completely tromped the Dakotas when it came to notifying your soon-to-be-ex of your intended proceedings:

Service upon a non-resident defendant may be made personally or by publication. There is no statute requiring corroborative proof as in South Dakota.

—The Outlook, February 17, 1894 

In other words, for an Oklahoma divorce you didn’t have to prove you’d informed your partner of your efforts to quit them, or go far in giving them a chance to respond or to appear. All you had to do was place notice in a paper they might theoretically read. If they don’t respond, the courts would assume they were fine with it. 

Periodicals of the 1880s and 1890s are full of editorials and investigations into the increasing popularity of divorce across the country. The North American Review, one of the longest-running and most literary periodicals in all of American publishing, asked five well-respected authors – all of them female – the rather loaded question, “Is the woman more to blame for unhappiness in marriage?”

Spoiler Alert: Yeah, pretty much. 

The most progressive of the bunch, author and journalist Rebecca Harding Davis, was the least comfortable pinning every sin of Adam on Eve. She was also not convinced the root problem was a new one:

Are Women To Blame

I am not at all sure, either, that there are more unhappy marriages than there were fifty years ago. There are more divorces, and divorce-bills drag the secret unhappiness to light. I remember, in the Virginia town in which I passed my childhood, there was one divorcée, and so rare was the legal severance of marriage in those days, and so abhorrent to public feeling, that the poor young woman was regarded with horror as though she had been a leper. 

But were there no wretched marriages among the good people who held her at arm’s length? no drunken, brutal husbands? no selfish, nagging wives? Nowadays the lax divorce laws bring out all these secret skeletons to dance in the streets. 

But as to the lax divorce laws of some of the newer states (and territories)?

In our Western States, the consciousness that divorce is easily possible, no doubt, often makes wives restless and insurgent under petty annoyances. When that is the case, it is certainly the woman who is in fault.

“Restless and insurgent” actually rather nicely describes some of the most interesting and capable women in my world. “She was warned. She was given an explanation. Nevertheless, she persisted.” 

Booyah, baby. 

In the South, where divorce is still looked upon as a disgrace, and where religious feeling is more stringent than in any other part of the country, the old-fashioned Domestic woman is still to be found. She is gentle; she has infinite tact; she hates a fuss; she knows the art of managing men. I think that she is not often to blame if her home is unhappy.

In some of the New-England States, where the women outnumber the men six to one, it is the hard, lean-natured man who has the game in his own hands…

—“Are Women To Blame?”, North American Literary Review, May 1889. 

You get the idea. 

Disputes over marital termination, not surprisingly, often ended up in court. One case, involving Mr. & Mrs. Frank Magowan (spelled ‘MacGowan’ below) became rather well-known to those looking to the judicial branch for moral rebalancing: 

Validity of Divorces

We hope that the Supreme Court of the United States, when the question comes before it for decision, may hold that divorces obtained in ‘foreign’ States are not valid. The matter grows out of the New York decision that is known as the MacGowan case. In that case it was held that neither the wife nor the husband can acquire residence in another State for the purpose of obtaining a divorce. If that decision is sustained it will mean quite a revolution in divorce methods. We hope it is good law, for it is certainly good morals… 

It’s nice to know that not so very long ago, at least some states valued the sacredness of holding captive someone you used to love but who now despises you. On such foundations are strong societies built.

During the past few years the pilgrimages of those seeking divorces to the Dakotas, to Oklahoma, and other sparsely settled States and Territories where laws are lax and inducements are actually held out to those desiring legal separation, have amounted to a public scandal which has spread even beyond this country. 

It has seemed hopeless to appeal to the pride of people like those in Oklahoma. We hope that an appeal to the Supreme Court will end the matter…

“It has seemed hopeless to appeal to the pride of people like those in Oklahoma”? That’s rather insulting, don’t you think? Rude, even. Makes me wish I were married to the author just so I could move here and divorce their ugly behind. 

The husbands who have raised a fund to prosecute this matter may simply be acting from motives of revenge, but their contributions may result in great public good as well as in the discomfiture of wives who have journeyed to Dakota in order to contract another marriage…

—“Employment of Women,” The Literary Digest, February 27, 1897

Wow.

Imagine a time and place in which men – purely out of hostility towards women they believe have overstepped their bounds, or forgotten their station – promote legislation cynically crafted to teach those wenches a lesson and keep them in their place. Now imagine that such legislation succeeds because even those without such blatantly ugly motives believe a little heel-to-neck is probably good for the unclean – that it keeps them in line. 

Oklahoma was for a brief, shining moment on the OTHER side of that dynamic. It was on the “everyone deserves an opportunity to rise above their past” side of things. 

I know, right?! History is crazy. 

Even the French were appalled – and you know how hard it is to offend the French. 

French View of Divorce

“This facility of varying the colors of the conjugal knots singularly increases the vogue of a holy state that may be embraced, quitted, and resumed so easily at the hands of the pastor; so it is not the coming nuptial benediction that disturbs those spouses that are desirous of separating; it is—will it be believed?—the rigor of the laws of some States. 

There’s such a fine line between colorful rhetoric and just being obnoxious about it. (And yes, I see the irony.)

There are States, like New York, where divorce is very hard to obtain, and whose residents are forced to resort to the judges of other States, where marriage is a plaything that is broken with more or less ease. 

Meow SLICE

The inhabitants of New York have only to cross the Hudson. The State of New Jersey, which borders the other side of the river, is empowered to untie knots, but only in certain cases; there are scruples; serious grounds are necessary. 

Yeah, New Jersey and their stern scruples. Some things never change. 

People who can not produce these must take the trouble to go a great deal farther, to North or South Dakota, or to the Territory of Oklahoma, where chains are broken as by enchantment!

That should go on our license plates: “Oklahoma – Where Chains Are Broken As By Enchantment!”

OK Plates

If they ask your reasons, they never commit the indiscretion of finding them insufficient. One sole condition is required—residence for six months in the two first-named States, and for three months in Oklahoma, but—you are not obliged to really live there. 

What? Another wrinkle!

Most honorable witnesses gain a livelihood in no other way than by affirming on oath that you have resided there from the day of the introduction of your application up to the day when you appear before the judge. There are even ways of avoiding this latter formality.” 

—“A French View of Marriage And Divorce In The United States,” The Literary Digest, August 7, 1897

We should never have bailed them out of every war for the entire 20th century. 

My absolute favorite commentary on Oklahoma as divorce factory comes in the form of a play. “While You Wait,” by Charles Newton Hood, was published in June of 1900 in a magazine called The Smart Set. The play, which is fairly brief and absolutely worth reading in full, consists entirely of dialogue between Mr. and Mrs. Van Cleef – a well-to-do couple who’ve managed to live together quite civilly for several years despite realizing very shortly into their marriage that there’s no actual love between them. 

Mrs. Van Cleef, however, has a solution…

Mrs. Van Cleef—Well, I have been looking into the matter a little and I think that it could all be arranged very nicely and easily, and everything would be lovely. The circular says—

Mr. Van Cleef—The circular?

Mrs. Van Cleef—Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you. I wrote to some lawyers in Dakota and Oklahoma, who call themselves “Divorce Specialists,” and advertise “Divorces While You Wait;” and really, the way they put it, all you have to do to get a divorce is just to go out there and spend a few months enjoying the lovely climate and all that, and come back divorced…

Mr. Van Cleef interrupts to make sure she’s been discreet with these inquiries, then she continues:

Mrs. Van Cleef—Now, in this divorce business, there seems to be a great rivalry between South Dakota and Oklahoma, but the Oklahoma firm’s circular is a great deal the more enticing. Listen. It says (she reads from a circular which she takes from her pocket): “Our newer States, in compiling their laws, have seen fit to show more liberality in the matter of obtaining divorces than may be found among the older States, whose laws on this subject were enacted at a time when ideas were less in accord with the advanced liberal thought of the present.

”As the Mohammedan devotee confidingly turns his eyes toward the tomb of his beloved leader, so has Dakota been regarded as the Mecca of hope to weary companions in matrimony.”

Isn’t that nice? We’ll be the weary companions…

This amuses me on so many levels. 

Mrs. Van Cleef goes on to explain that Oklahoma has clearly been giving Dakota a run for its divorce earnings. 

It says we have to live there only ninety days before we can get a divorce and be as free as the glorious air of Oklahoma. All we have to swear to is that we are uncongenial and incompatible, and you swear that you are a poor, neglected husband, and I’ll swear that I am a poor, neglected wife, and we’ll go out there for a little vacation, and you can hunt and explore and neglect me and be uncongenial and incompatible, and I’ll climb mountains and fish and be incompatible and uncongenial and neglect you, and we’ll have just a lovely time, and there won’t be any scandal, and when we come back we’ll just be good friends…

They go on to ponder what a coup the railroads might manage if they were to arrange package deals for husbands and wives traveling together to Oklahoma, then returning separately—or with different companions.

While You Wait

Maybe it’s my love of dark humor, but I find the entire thing hilarious over a century later, despite the happy ending. 

As Oklahoma continues to seek new ways to make divorce more expensive, more embarrassing, or simply more difficult, it’s a shame we can’t look to our past – our roots – and remain a bit more faithful to the policies which got us where we are today. To dance with the one what brung us, as it were. 

Instead, we’re faithlessly abandoning them for new priorities, and ideologies. We’re cutting loose our old, somewhat embarrassing ways for a hotter, younger legislative philosophy. It’s like we’d rather not even talk about our collective past at all, if we can avoid it. 

Shame, shame, shame. Where’s the loyalty?

RELATED POST: Boomers & Sooners, Part One 

RELATED POST: A Chance In Oklahoma (w/ Commentary)

The Civil War in I.T. (From “Well, OK Then…”)

The time between Indian Removal in the 1830s and the outbreak of the American Civil War in 1861 was a comparatively peaceful – almost prosperous – era for the Five Civilized Tribes (5CT). 

Then again, when you have a century of suck on either side of a generation, the bar for “Golden Age” status isn’t particularly high. 

Historical Divisions

Despite our tendency to speak of the 5CT as a single entity, they were different tribes composed of individual people – and people never quite fit the generalizations we impose in retrospect. Within each tribe there were mixed-bloods and full-bloods, progressives and conservatives, slave-owners and those with little interest in the practice. Every society has those resistant to change and those quick to rebuke their own culture and the ways of their forebears. Every community has outspoken members and those who simply wish to be left alone. The details may vary, but the same was true of the relocated tribes. 

The full-bloods tended to be conservative and – having no desire for cash crops – had little interest in owning slaves. The mixed-bloods tended to speak more English and interact with whites – being family and all – and were more likely to participate in the larger economy. They were far more likely to own slaves, although many did not. 

There were exceptions to these generalizations, the most obvious of which was John Ross – a mixed-blood Cherokee who spoke perfect English and had been educated in white-run schools. He was nevertheless considered overall “Chief” of the Cherokee, with his most loyal followers being the older, full-blood members of the tribe. 

The greatest bitterness, though, came from divisions during Indian Removal. The “Western Cherokee” who’d moved in 1817 had largely embraced the New Echota group, led by Stand Watie and others, upon their arrival in the early 1830s. Those arriving on “Trail of Tears” several years later felt betrayed on the deepest level by those who’d signed the treaties trading away their homelands. Several “Treaty Party” leaders had been assassinated in response.

The Creek experienced a similar split, aggravating issues predating removal. They emigrated to I.T. in waves, beginning with supporters of William McIntosh – another leader executed for his compromises. The Choctaw and Chickasaw had their own struggles with removal, but they stayed largely united during the experience. And the Seminole…

The Seminole are just always hard to pin down in regards to anything. They fought removal and never actually lost, even though many moved. They had “slaves” that weren’t quite actually “slaves” – just… not quite new additions to the tribe. And they… 

I’m not really sure what to tell you about the Seminole. 

Nevertheless, the Tribes largely rebuilt their worlds in the generation after removal. They established new schools, churches, communities, and in some cases even printed their own newspapers. What would later be named “Oklahoma” was, for a generation, truly a “Land of the Red Man,” although it was largely a “Land of the Black Man” as well. Slavery among the Tribes was still slavery, but it was rarely as brutal or dehumanizing as it was in the South. In some cases it was essentially independent living in exchange for a share of whatever they’d grown or produced. 

And then the white people got into a war. With themselves. 

Bringing I.T. Into the War

By and large, the 5CT were more than happy to learn that white people were shooting at one another. This was a win-win for them. They weren’t in a geographically essential location – that was part of the reason it was chosen, after all – and had little interest in involving themselves in the white man’s war, at least at first.

Until Albert Pike arrived. 

Pike was a Hagrid-looking character, a southerner who’d been born and raised in the north. He began his professional life as a reporter in Arkansas, then a lawyer, and became a strong advocate for various southeastern tribes over the years – minus time in the military fighting in the Mexican-American war. A staunch defender of slavery, he became a loyal Confederate when sides were chosen. 

Pike was an ideal choice of ambassador to the 5CT. He was familiar and trusted, and he made compelling arguments why they should support the South in this war.  

The Choctaw and Chickasaw signed up with little debate. They were already more like the American South than the remaining tribes, more agricultural and owning more slaves than the rest. The remaining tribes split over the issue – often along lines lingering from previous disputes. While officially all Five of the “Civilized Tribes” joined the Confederacy, substantial minorities of the Cherokee, Creek, and Seminole fought for the Union. That whole “brother against brother” thing was brutal for everyone involved, but in some ways it hurt the 5CT most. 

At first gander, the preponderance of support for the South seems surprising – the Tribes had been ejected from the south, and harassed by southern states prior to that. But that’s not how most viewed the situation. It’s almost certainly not how Pike framed it. 

So why join the Confederacy?

First and foremost, the Tribes owned slaves. Most individuals did not, but that was true of the American South as well. The culture supported it, and the same folks who tended to be fiscally ambitious enough to need slaves tended to be politically active as well. Leaders who weren’t slave-owners weren’t exactly abolitionists either, so there was little in the way of a “balancing viewpoint.” There were pro-slavery voices, and there were those who had other concerns instead.  

Second, Indian Removal was remembered as a betrayal of the “Great White Father” in Washington, D.C. – not so much as a conflict with individual states. Their treaties had been made with federal power, and either enforced or broken by federal soldiers taking federal orders. It didn’t help that the same federal government wasn’t particularly consistent following through with promised supplies and other resources. 

Third, the Union soldiers who’d been stationed in and around I.T. as part of the Tribes’ latest treaties with the U.S. had been pulled and reassigned as soon as it became clear war was coming. It’s not that the Tribes were such great buddies with the soldiers, but plenty of Plains Indians who hadn’t earned the sobriquet “Civilized” were still active in the region, and the U.S. military provided a decent buffer against their brutality. 

Fourth, the 5CT had more in common with Americans in the south than they did those in the north. Friends or not, many Amerindians practiced agriculture – none owned factories. Many lived on farms or in what white culture would see as ‘semi-rural’ settings – none lived in tenements. Many relied on themselves and their traditions to guide them – few saw value in reform movements, technological progress, or ‘Great Awakenings.’ While the federal government had let them down repeatedly, the largely sympathetic ‘Indian Agents’ with whom they dealt and through whom they processed white society were mostly from the south. 

Finally, with no way to predict the outcome of the conflict, the South offered them a better deal. The North – in the form of the federal government – had already lost whatever credibility they might have had, while the South promised the Tribes more protections, greater autonomy, and all those “states’ rights” kinds of things that would become so prominently recalled after the war. The South also promised to assume commitments made under previous treaties with the U.S., including the annuities the North had ceased as soon as distracted by conflict with the South. The North and their President Lincoln, meanwhile, were aggressively promoting westward expansion. If you don’t see an immediate problem for the tribes in that, look at any map. 

So, despite the splits described previously, the Confederacy it was.

It wasn’t going to work out as well as they’d hoped. 

Red, White, and War 

Like anything in history – especially when that anything is a war – the depths into one might plunge are limitless. I generally limit myself to four key events when covering the Civil War in I.T. 

1. Opothleyahola

Opothleyahola – or “Opie” as we end up calling him in class if we ever wish to get past the ongoing struggle to pronounce his name comfortably – was a Creek leader who’d been fighting the federal government and white encroachment as far back as the War of 1812. He was a wealthy landowner, a Baptist, and a Freemason (all the cool kids were back then). 

By the time the Civil War came to I.T., Opie was so over white guys and their talent for disrupting and diminishing the Tribes. He was unwilling to join the Confederacy, but no fan of the Union. Others of similar mind found their way to his plantation in fits and starts, and he soon found himself the default leader of several thousand Creek, Chickasaw, Seminole – even some runaway slaves and other miscellany. The unifying characteristic was their desire to stay out of this war. 

Opie received permission from President Lincoln to lead this amalgam to Kansas. There were fewer than 2,000 warriors, but they hoped to avoid conflict with either side. The majority of their band were women, children, old men, and livestock – little threat to anyone. 

It didn’t work out that way, and troops were sent by the Confederacy to persuade them to change their mind. The first “Red on Red violence” of the war took place against a group trying to do what they’d all wanted to do initially – just stay out of it. 

Opothleyahola began his trek with somewhere in the area of 9,000 wanderers, and arrived in Kansas with less than 2,000 by most estimates. War, winter, hunger, and disease did their damage just as they had a generation before. The Union encampment there was completely unprepared for even these diminished numbers, and were of little help. After doing what he could to secure assistance for his people, Opie led those still able to fight back into I.T. to war against the Confederacy. He’d die in one of the Kansas refugee camps before the war was over. 

2. The Battle of Pea Ridge (March 1862)

Early 1962 was not going well for the Confederacy in the Western Theater. Ulysses S. Grant was making a name for himself and captured Ft. Henry and Ft. Donelson along the Mississippi River, nearly cutting the South in two and enabling the Union to squeeze the secesh into submission. The Confederacy saw St. Louis – right there where the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers converge – as the key to reversing this trend. 

General Albert Pike was called to I.T. to take command of Amerindian troops there, primarily Cherokee. They were poorly supplied and barely organized, and many weren’t enthused about supporting the Confederacy. Nevertheless, Pike led them into Arkansas (despite initial guarantees they would fight only to defend I.T.) where they joined in the Battle of Pea Ridge in March of 1862. 

The Battle of Pea Ridge could fill an entire History Channel special. For our purposes, there are three things worth remembering. 

First, this was the first time Cherokee troops fought on this scale in a white man’s battle. The Amerindian ways of fighting were dramatically different than white guys’ methods – the goals, the strategies, and especially the command structure. The U.S. and Confederate militaries were organized along a strict hierarchy. While not as loosely organized as the Plains Tribes, the Cherokee simply didn’t work that way – not socially, not politically, and certainly not militarily. By white military standards, they were a mess. 

Second, most of Pike’s Amerindian troops fought with bows and arrows, or with tomahawks. That’s what they had, and what they knew how to use proficiently. Unfortunately, against somewhat trained soldiers with guns, they were of limited impact in this situation. 

Third, and most importantly, the Cherokee were accused of scalping some of their Union victims. While this apparently did actually happen, the details are a bit vague. What is certain is that knowledge of this spread widely and quickly, growing and distorting in ways you wouldn’t think possible before Facebook. White soldiers on both sides were horrified – that is NOT how civilized men behaved! Kill and maim one another PROPERLY! 

Pike was outraged at the treatment of the Amerindian troops in his command and excoriated in press and popular opinion for “allowing” scalping and general savagery to take place. He was the only white commander on either side to so vigorously advocate for them, albeit unsuccessfully, and he paid the social and political price for doing so. His Cherokee withdrew to I.T. where they were left unsupported and unprotected. 

Oh, and by the way – the Union won. 

3. The Weer Expedition 

The Union had two goals for I.T. in 1862 – push back against Confederate advances in the region, and restore the pro-Union Amerindian refugees to their homes. Seemed simple enough, and the goals certainly complimented one another. 

Colonel William Weer was appointed to command several white and two “Indian Regiments” along with supporting artillery. Pike was so annoyed at this point he refused to even lead the Confederate opposition, although Weer would face sporadic resistance along the way, especially from Cherokee forces led by Stand Watie.

They got as far as Locust Grove, about halfway between modern Tulsa and the Arkansas border. There they defeated some Missouri rebels and captured their supplies, but decided to wait for their own supply train to catch up as well. (It’s not like an army can forage its way through Oklahoma – if the land were that rich, we’d never have sent the Indians here.)

During the wait, Union forces fell apart all on their own, without the Secesh having to do much to help. It was July by then, and hot. Really hot. Too hot. Supplies were running low again, and soldiers with nothing to do and no real fortifications had plenty of time to worry about Confederate counterstrikes. To top it all off, Weer was apparently quite a drinker. Like, crazy useless drunk pretty much full-time by this point. Underlings swore he’d genuinely lost his mind as a result and was no longer fit to lead even when he was sober. 

His second-in-command arrested him and took over, ordering a withdrawal of the white troops but leaving the Amerindians behind without orders. Had the Confederates been in a position to take advantage of this, it could have shifted the balance of power in I.T. back in their favor. But they weren’t, so it didn’t. Those locals who’d been “resettled” were nevertheless nervous about the withdrawal and complete lack of a Union strategy, and most began heading to Kansas yet again, where they spent another winter in refugee camps, suffering from cold, hunger, and disease. 

Overall, the expedition was not considered a huge success. 

4. The Battle of Honey Springs

July of 1863 was arguably THE turning point of the entire Civil War. In the Eastern Theater, Lee’s second and final effort to bring the war to the North was thwarted at the three-day Battle of Gettysburg. In the Western Theater, the nearly two-month-long Siege of Vicksburg perpetrated by U.S. Grant finally ended, securing control of the Mississippi River for the Union. The ‘Anaconda Plan’ was complete (although Winfield Scott had since passed away and thus missed his opportunity to gloat). 

In the same month, the Massachusetts 54th Infantry – the first substantial use of Black troops in the war – made their dramatic but costly charge on Fort Wagner in South Carolina. While a strategic defeat, the performance of the 54th settled for the remainder of the war the question of whether or not Black troops should be allowed to fight as relative equals. Finally, in Indian Territory, the Battle of Honey Springs – the “Gettysburg of the West” – secured Union control of I.T. for the remainder of the war. 

OK, no one outside of Oklahoma teaches Honey Springs as the “Gettysburg of the West.” Most people inside of Oklahoma don’t either. But when you’re Oklahoma, you grab on to whatever validation you can get, kids. 

Did you know Carrie Underwood is from here? And several astronauts? We matter! Shut up! 

A year after the Weer debacle, Union forces had successfully occupied Fort Gibson and were maintaining a limited military presence in I.T. once again. Being how it was a war and all, the Confederacy hoped to drive them out, and assembled about twenty miles away at Honey Springs Depot. From there they sent out cavalry to harass and attack Union supply lines and take advantage of whatever other opportunities presented themselves without fully engaging. 

Honey Springs had already become an important location to the Secesh in Indian Territory. Troops came there for medical attention, to get whatever limited supplies were available, etc. It was essentially “home base” for the South. General Douglas Cooper, a veteran of the Mexican-American War and former Indian Agent to the Choctaw and Chickasaw, was in command. 

It was hard to keep secrets in wartime, and Colonel Phillips, in command of Union forces at Fort Gibson, was well-aware an attack was imminent. Rather than wait for the Confederates to receive reinforcements, Phillips decided to take the war to them. He was joined by Major General James Blunt from Kansas, who brought additional troops and artillery, and who would thenceforth be in charge. 

As mentioned earlier, war aficionados can stay all tingly for days over the details of this or that battle, strategy, or new bridle design. Here are the key points I consider worth remembering about Honey Springs – other than that “Gettysburg of the West” thing, I mean. 

First, it was arguably the most racially diverse battle of the Civil War. Blunts troops were a mixture of white, Black, and Amerindian forces, while Cooper’s troops were mostly Amerindian with a few white regiments. Whites were in the minority on both sides. 

Second, it rained. In addition to the general unpleasantness of marching and fighting over wet ground, the Confederates discovered their cheap gunpowder had absorbed too much moisture and wouldn’t fire. At the risk of getting all technical, it turns out it’s hard to win battles when you can’t shoot the other guy. 

Third, the battle’s outcome turned on an error – a beneficial blunder, as it were. After several hours of intense battle, including serious cannon action, Blunt (Union) orders the First Kansas Colored Voluntary Infantry Regiment to capture some Confederate artillery which had been giving them trouble. Confederate forces had a decisive advantage in terms of manpower, but the Union had more toys – and they didn’t appreciate the South challenging them when it came to things that go ‘boom.’ 

As the First Kansas Colored pressed towards their goal, a regiment of Union Amerindian troops unintentionally moved between them and Confederate forces. As they realized their error and withdrew, Confederate leaders assumed the Union was falling back in general, and enthusiastically ordered pursuit. 

They ran right into the First Kansas and their fancy Springfield rifles, and bad things ensued. A mix of Black, White, and Red troops drove the Southerners back, but in all the chaos failed to capture those cannons. The Confederates tried to torch Honey Springs in order to keep the goodies there from falling into Union hands, but Northern soldiers managed to extinguish most of the fires and everyone had extra bacon and sorghum biscuits for a few days. 

The First Kansas Colored Volunteers earned high praise for their bravery and composure throughout the battle, news of which made it into the papers right as the Massachusetts 54th was proving a similar point much further east. 

Most of the fighting in I.T. after Honey Springs was hit-and-run, guerilla warfare. Stand Watie and other Amerindian leaders couldn’t turn the tide of the war on their own, but they did make things mighty inconvenient for the Union for its duration. Watie was the last Confederate General to surrender when the war eventually ended. 

Aftermath

The damage to I.T. as a result of the Civil War is difficult to overstate. Like much of the south, the loss of property and destruction of land was dwarfed only by the loss of life. 

As people began to return to their homes rebuild their lives, a Radical Republican Congress was trying to build on this victory to make some major changes across the country. The 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments were soon passed, ending slavery, giving Freedmen the right to vote, and declaring for the first time ever that a citizen is a citizen is a citizen, and that neither state nor nation can presume otherwise – at least according to written law.  

The South would resist these changes for another century, but there was one group already so beaten and misused by the U.S. that they were in no position to make a similar stand. Besides, they’d officially chosen the wrong side in the recent war. 

The U.S. Congress was about to impose their will yet again on the citizens of Indian Territory, in ways they were unable to do anywhere else. Reconstruction is coming. Hard.

NOTE: A more easily printable version of this post is available on “Well, OK Then…” 

This Land Is Whose Land? (From “Well, OK Then…”)

New SpainThe first European nation to lay claim to what is now Oklahoma was Spain, via wanderings sent forth from New Spain – what today is Mexico. 

Other than periodic expeditions hoping perhaps there was more to the Great Plains than met the eye, the Spanish weren’t particularly enamored with the northeastern-most reaches of their claims in the New World. They weren’t looking to colonize or expand on the same scale as their Anglo cousins, and the whole area was just… flat. And hot. And completely bereft of gold, more gold, or all the gold. 

The neglect became permanent after the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588 by the English, with substantial assistance from a suddenly very-Protestant God. Spain was already struggling to maintain its role as a major player back home in Europe, and no longer had the energy for shenanigans in the Western Hemisphere – not without a greater payoff. 

Little surprise, then, that the French met with little resistance when they claimed a big ol’ chunk of the New World as “Louisiana Territory” in 1682. The original boundaries looked a little different than they would 121 years later when Jefferson made his famous “Purchase” of the same name, but Oklahoma was included in both versions. 

The French did exactly nothing, near as we can tell, in this part of the Territory while under their purview. Not that we needed them here, getting their… Frenchness all over us. But still – it would have been nice to be wanted, you know?

The area changed hands again at the end of the French and Indian War – the same one most of you remember from American History class. You may recall that it wasn’t the French vs. the Indians; they were allies against the British colonies along the eastern coast of North America. Like most things, it was complicated – part of a larger “Seven Years War” going on in Europe, and mixing itself into pre-existing issues between the colonies and the locals, etc. 

It was at the conclusion of this war in 1763 that the British first got serious about raising taxes on the American colonists to help offset some of the costs of their “protection.” This sparked a whole other series of events more familiar to the average student and leading to seriously overpriced fireworks every summer. 

U.S. Map 1750In any case, the Treaty of Paris (1763) transferred proud ownership of all this flat, red dirt to the British, despite a secret agreement handing it over to Spain only a year before. It says something about the status of pre-settlement Oklahoma that Spain didn’t even fuss over this double-dealing; their primary concern involved other territories included in that exchange. 

That explains, however, how land arguably belonging to the British could be returned to France by Spain in the year 1800. These were the days of Napoleonic hegemony – the proverbial “little general” who wanted to take over all of the known world.

EXCEPT OKLAHOMA BECAUSE WHY BOTHER AND HEY T.J., WANNA BARGAIN ON SOME BIG, FLAT, USELESS LAND?

Um… hello?! Potential state here! Home of natural resources and flora and fauna and stuff? Wind, sweeping down the plains? Hawks with questionable work ethics circling above? I get that we’re not the prettiest state in the room, but we’re at least… OK, right?

*sigh*

And people wonder why to this day we’re one giant inferiority complex, with a side of paranoid delusion. Texas proudly waves its ‘six flags’ representing various stages of its history. We had three prior to statehood, playing ‘hot potato’ with us like the homely friend of the popular girls they were really looking to – um… settle. 

But finally, a nation that needed us! That could appreciate us! Say what you like about the early U.S., they were some exploring and expanding fools! President Jefferson sent out Lewis and Clark and Co., who began mapping the entire area of – 

Hey! Where are you going? Meriwether! Bill! Down here, big fellas! It’s me, Okla –

*sigh*

Sunnuvabitch. The Dakotas. They’re all hot’n’bothered for Nebraska and the Dakotas. Seriously? 

U.S. Map - TerritoriesFine. We’ll waive our *mumble* wheat for someone *murmur* can appreciate *grouse* land we belong to is grandma’s crusty *obsenitiesandbitterness*.

There was thus very little to discuss between our inconspicuous hitchhiking into United States Territorial-ness in 1803 and the involuntary arrival of the Five Civilized Tribes via “Indian Removal” in the 1830s. 

Meanwhile, white America was expanding much more quickly than expected. Immigrants were packing the shores, and those already here were spawning like blind prawn. While encounters with Amerindian natives had been a mixed bag since Columbus first mislabeled them, five tribes in the southeastern part of the country had adapted far better than most, and conflicts had been relatively minimal. 

The Cherokee, Creek, Chickasaw, Choctaw, and Seminole, while distinct peoples in and of themselves, became collectively known as the “Five Civilized Tribes” (5CT). Keep in mind, of course, that this was not a self-selected title – it was bestowed by white Southerners in the area. This use of “civilized” wasn’t drawn from someone’s textbook definition or discerned anthropologically; it meant that these Indians were a lot more like the white folks around them than them other Indians, who were generally considered savage, wild, and dangerous. Decadent, actually. 

Boo, savage Indians!

The 5CT, in contrast, were largely agricultural. They were far less nomadic, more highly educated, and far less likely to practice hit’n’run raids on white neighbors. Many converted to or at least adapted elements of Christianity, even wearing uncomfortable shoes and learning English in order to facilitate good relations.

If the primary cause of conflict with Natives was cultural, as is often asserted, then the 5CT should have had little trouble with the wave of white settlement surrounding them. If it were purely an issue of gold or other mineral wealth, as our textbooks like to emphasize, the problem would have been substantially more localized. 

U.S. Map 1824But the U.S. found it necessary to violate a number of its own fundamental values and laws in order to kick FIVE distinct nations out of an area roughly the size of THREE entire states. They did so at enormous cost to themselves and unforgivable loss of life to those removed. This was driven by something bigger than gold, something fundamental to an expanding nation.  

White homesteaders wanted land. They needed land. They deserved land. 

Not that they were likely to come right out and put it that way. From President Andrew Jackson’s First Annual Message to Congress, December 8th, 1829:

The consequences of a speedy removal will be important to the United States, to individual States, and to the Indians themselves. The pecuniary advantages which it promises to the Government are the least of its recommendations… 

“Pecuniary”? He’s been reading Jefferson’s letters again. Not bad for an uneducated orphan kid, actually.

“Pecuniary” means financial, or profitable. Perhaps fiscal growth was the “least” of many reasons to move the Indians, but he sure didn’t waste any time mentioning it.

Like, first. 

It will place a dense and civilized population in large tracts of country now occupied by a few savage hunters. By opening the whole territory between Tennessee on the north and Louisiana on the south to the settlement of the whites it will incalculably strengthen the southwestern frontier and render the adjacent States strong enough to repel future invasions without remote aid… 

See? Not all of our motivation is selfish and monetary. They’ll also make a nice buffer between us and the Apache. Why should we be carved open and burned alive if we can throw a few Chickasaw in the way instead?

It will separate the Indians from immediate contact with settlements of whites; free them from the power of the States; enable them to pursue happiness in their own way and under their own rude institutions; will retard the progress of decay, which is lessening their numbers, and perhaps cause them gradually, under the protection of the Government and through the influence of good counsels, to cast off their savage habits and become an interesting, civilized, and Christian community.

What good man would prefer a country covered with forests and ranged by a few thousand savages to our extensive Republic, studded with cities, towns, and prosperous farms embellished with all the improvements which art can devise or industry execute, occupied by more than 12,000,000 happy people, and filled with all the blessings of liberty, civilization and religion? …

Andrew JacksonThere we go – the “besides, it’s good for them” defense. We used a variation of this to justify slavery, you may recall – saving all those crazy Africans from their ooga-booga religions and cannibalism and such, freeing them up to play banjos around the fire and partake of the finest Christian civilization. 

It’s quite a mix of values, though, isn’t it? Removal will leave them alone to do their own thing, but it will also force them to become more like us – which is the opposite of being left alone and doing their own thing. Besides, Jackson explains, what good is a bunch of trees and land when we could pack in cities and industry and corporate-style farming?

Maybe he hadn’t been reading Jefferson after all. 

The tribes which occupied the countries now constituting the Eastern States were annihilated or have melted away to make room for the whites. The waves of population and civilization are rolling to the westward, and we now propose to acquire the countries occupied by the red men of the South and West by a fair exchange, and, at the expense of the United States, to send them to land where their existence may be prolonged and perhaps made perpetual. 

The term ‘Manifest Destiny’ hadn’t been coined yet, but the ideology permeates Jackson’s language. There are no individuals making choices, or cultures colliding – merely inevitable progress “rolling to the westward.” 

Doubtless it will be painful to leave the graves of their fathers; but what do they more than our ancestors did or than our children are now doing? … {White settlers} remove hundreds and almost thousands of miles at their own expense, purchase the lands they occupy, and support themselves at their new homes from the moment of their arrival. 

Can it be cruel in this Government when, by events which it cannot control, the Indian is made discontented in his ancient home to purchase his lands, to give him a new and extensive territory, to pay the expense of his removal, and support him a year in his new abode? How many thousands of our own people would gladly embrace the opportunity of removing to the West on such conditions! If the offers made to the Indians were extended to them, they would be hailed with gratitude and joy.

IR MapJackson may be overdoing it a bit, even by the standards of the day. His primary purpose was most likely not to convert anyone adamantly opposed, but to assuage any guilt on the part of those already looking for an excuse. That’s why we talk about “audience” and “reason” when we do document analysis, kids – dead white guys can be sneaky.  

Whatever else Jackson was, he was a genuine champion of the “common man.” As a creature of his times, that rarely included the 5CT or anyone else with meaningful pigmentation – it meant white homesteaders. 

Like the generation of Founders on whose shoulders he consciously stood, he recognized the connection between land and opportunity, land and character, land and democracy. 

He was generally plainspoken, but that didn’t mean he had no understanding of human nature. He knew that sometimes lofty goals and hard decisions required… framing. He was no diplomat, but he was certainly willing to play the demagogue here and there if he believed his cause was deserving. 

And there was no higher cause than this American nation. These people. This potential. He may have hated Indians, or he may have not. It didn’t matter. America had a destiny, and that destiny needed more land. 

That chunk of Louisiana Territory that kept getting tossed around and ignored is about to become useful. 

NOTE: A more easily printable version of this post is available on “Well, OK Then…”