Indians of North America -- Iowa; Spirit Lake Massacre, Iowa, 1857
This rapid disintegration of the band could be accounted for by the
character of its leader. His arrogance was rapidly rendering followers
impossible. Inkpaduta, in 1856, was evidently between fifty and sixty
years of age. He was born, probably in 1800, on the Watonwan River in
Minnesota. For a Wahpekuta Sioux he was large, being probably more
than six feet tall and very strongly built. He was not a person of
pleasing appearance; for, coupled with the immoral character of his
life, smallpox had badly marked him. Indeed, he presented an unusually
repulsive appearance. His features were coarse; his countenance was of
brutal cast; and he was very near-sighted. His near-sightedness became
total blindness in old age, so that at the time of the battle of the
Little Big Horn he was carefully piloted about by his small grandsons
who, managing to save him from the general slaughter, succeeded in
having him safely carried into Canada in the party of Sitting
Bull.[128]
Although his band as a whole was of bad repute, Inkpaduta stood out
above his followers on account of his hatred for the whites, his
revengeful disposition, and his nearly matchless success in war.[129]
Mrs. Sharp speaks of him as “a savage monster in human shape, fitted
only for the darkest corner in Hades.”[130] “Of all the base
characters among his fellow outlaws, his nature seems to have been the
vilest, and his heart the blackest.”[131] “It was only as a war chief
that he won a place in the admiration of the Indians. In civil life
they would have none of him. Except where bloodshedding was the
business in hand, they knew by sore experience he was not to be
trusted.... It is scarcely probable from all of his conduct that he
was other than he seemed, a terrible monster.”[132]
His unusual disposition was coupled with an ambition to see his people
and tribe restored once again to their wide and extensive hunting
ranges. As he witnessed the frontier expanding westward he saw his
great ambition vanish, and he was irritated beyond control.
Unspeakably immoral himself, he nevertheless hated the vices of the
whites that were slowly taking hold upon the members of his band and
race.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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