The Northern Cheyenne Voice on Sand Creek

It is one thing for outsiders to read about Sand Creek in history books, where words flatten the horror into dates and numbers. It is another to carry the memory in our blood, as Northern Cheyenne people do.

On the cold dawn of November 29, 1864, our relatives—the Cheyenne and Arapaho—were camped along Sand Creek in present-day Colorado, under a promise of peace. They had come in good faith, following the instructions of the U.S. government, flying a white flag of truce. Yet the Colorado militia under Colonel John Chivington descended upon them with gunfire and cruelty.

Too many of our people—women, children, and elders—were cut down without mercy. This was not a battle. It was a massacre. One-third of our chiefs and elders were lost that day. The blow was not only to our families but to the very heart of our leadership, our wisdom, our continuity.

When Conrad Fisher (Travois), a Northern Cheyenne historian, tells this story in our language, you hear the tears in his voice. At Chief Dull Knife College, elders and students gathered to listen, to remember, and to grieve together. Conrad reminds us: we can never forget Sand Creek. And yet, he also teaches that we must search for forgiveness—not to excuse what was done, but to heal our spirits and carry our people forward.

The numbers written in official reports cannot capture the truth. Chivington boasted of killing 500–600 warriors, but there were no warriors in that camp—only families who believed they were safe. Most sources say 150–230 were killed, but Conrad Fisher estimates closer to 240, because many died later from their wounds. The camp held about 750 Cheyenne and Arapaho, and more than 230 were massacred, including 150 women, children, and elders. Thirteen Cheyenne chiefs and one Arapaho chief were slain.

Peace Chiefs Black Kettle and White Antelope had led their people there, trusting the word of the government. White Antelope sang his death song as he fell: “Nothing lives long, only the earth and the mountains.” His words echo still.

The soldiers did not stop at killing. They mutilated bodies, taking scalps and other parts as trophies. This horror shocked even some contemporaries, and later congressional investigations condemned Chivington’s actions. Though he was initially celebrated for a “victory,” he was eventually discredited and forced to resign his commission.

Sand Creek did not happen in isolation. The Fort Laramie Treaty of 1851 had guaranteed Cheyenne and Arapaho lands north of the Arkansas River. But the Colorado Gold Rush of 1858 brought settlers who pressured the U.S. government to seize Native lands, setting the stage for betrayal. The massacre became a catalyst for the Arapaho-Cheyenne war and fueled the Plains Wars of the next decade, reshaping the struggle for survival across the Great Plains.

For us, Sand Creek is not just history. It is memory. It is wounds. It is survival. In 2007, the Sand Creek Massacre National Historic Site was established to preserve the land where our ancestors fell. But for the Northern Cheyenne, preservation is not enough. We carry the responsibility to speak, to teach, to remember, and to honor them.

We say their names. We tell their story. We remind the world: Sand Creek was not the end of us. We are still here.

(Contact Clara Caufield at acheyennereview@gmail.com)

The post The Northern Cheyenne Voice on Sand Creek first appeared on Native Sun News Today.

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