Tag Archives: commissioner of Indian affairs

Room for the Shell-Shocked

Leave a reply

Main Building, St. Elizabeths, circa 1910-1925, courtesy Library of Congress

In 1917, the National Committee for Mental Hygiene (see last post) canvased various hospitals to see where soldiers and sailors could be treated for mental conditions created by the war. They naturally turned to government facilities like veterans’ hospitals and the government’s two existing insane asylums. The larger of these latter facilities, St. Elizabeths, was already charged with the care of insane military members. Its superintendent, Dr. William White, submitted his thoughts on the matter to the Secretary of the Interior, saying that a large influx of insane patients would require a correspondingly large increase in facilities. The plan in place was to ask for statutory authority “to distribute the overflow from the present organization [St. Elizabeths] to the several State hospitals.” Using caution before commitment, White asked how many patients might be expected, and whether or not the Secretary wanted them housed in temporary or semi-permanent structures.

Dr. Harry Hummer, superintendent at the government’s other insane asylum, the Canton Asylum for Insane Indians, offered his own thoughts about the ability of St. Elizabeths to care for mentally unstable soldiers. He wrote to the commissioner of Indian Affairs: “It occurs to me that with the already overcrowded condition at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital, Washington, D. C., it will be impossible for the authorities of that institution to care for the rather sudden accession of cases of mental disease which the present war will necessarily entail. . . . . It is barely possible that the federal government will decide that each State shall care for its own insane. In that event it will be necessary for the State of South Dakota to care for its insane, either at the Asylum at Yankton or otherwise.”

Hummer asked the practical question concerning the number of patients  who might need care, and provided his own tentative calculations for the commissioner. Hummer estimated that 20-25 percent of South Dakota’s soldiers and sailors might become incapacitated during the war, and that of that number, ten percent would be mental cases. Therefore, he thought that one-fortieth of the men enlisted from the state would need to be cared for at one of its institutions.

Hummer added: “I am sorry that your Office decided that we should not build the proposed epileptic cottage, as this would have given us additional beds which might have been used for the purpose now in question.”

Insane Asylum at Yankton, South Dakota

Wounded British Soldiers in a Trench, courtesy Library of Congress

______________________________________________________________________________________

Native Americans And WWI

Leave a reply

Otis W. Leader, Depicted by a French Artist as the Ideal American Soldier

Many people are familiar with the military contributions of Native American Code Talkers during WWII, but don’t know about Native American contributions to the Great War. Over 17,000 males registered for the draft, but many other men volunteered to enter the military. Data on these volunteers are not as  firm, but perhaps half of all Native Americans who enlisted were volunteers. Proportionally, as many or more Native Americans served in the military as other adult American men. Tribal participation rates varied: Oklahoma tribes entered the military at the highest rates, while Navajo and Pueblo men served at the lowest.*

Students from Indian boarding schools like Carlisle volunteered in great numbers, which may have been due both to their familiarity with the military from their school experience as well as a desire to get away from the boarding school environment. Almost without a voice of dissent, whites in authority  over these students–all the way up to commissioner of Indian Affairs, Cato Sells–approved of this massive exodus into the military. They attributed it to the success of the Indian Office’s assimilation policy and patriotism on the part of students. Both these factors may have entered into student decisions to enlist, but a thirst for adventure and an equally powerful hatred of their substandard schools were probably just as contributory. Unfortunately, some of these enthusiastic students were underage, with teachers (as the only adults even able to stand in as pseudo-parents) usually turning a blind eye or actually encouraging enlistment.

*Statistics about Native American participation in the military during WWI are taken from Russel Lawrence Barsh’s “American Indians in the Great War; Ethnohistory 38:3 (Summer, 1991).

Gus Sharlow, Ojibwa WWI Veteran, courtesy Wisconsin Historical Images

Parade Field at Carlisle Barracks in Carlisle, PA, courtesy U. S. Army

______________________________________________________________________________________

Doing Their Part

Leave a reply

Douglas Fairbanks and Charlie Chaplin Promoting Liberty Bonds in 1918

During WWI, the U.S. government raised money to support its war efforts through Liberty Bonds. Private citizens could purchase bonds, and after the war redeem them for the purchase price plus interest. The government issued four sets of bonds:

* The Emergency Loan Act (April 24, 1917) which set interest rates at 3.5%

* The Second Liberty Loan (October 1, 1917) which set interest rates at 4%

* The Third Liberty Loan (April 5, 1918) which set interest rates at 4.5%

* The Fourth Liberty Loan (September 28, 1918) which set interest rates at 4.25%

Several patients at the Canton Asylum for Insane Indians purchased Liberty Bonds. As superintendent and chief disbursing agent for the asylum, Dr. Harry Hummer kept track of who held bonds, and their value. In a letter to the commissioner of Indian Affairs dated May 16, 1918, he listed the Second Liberty Loan Bonds held by patients. Kittie Spicer, Josephine Wells, Davis Roubideaux, Frederick Charging Eagle, Willie McCarthy, Luke Stands-by-Him, Robert Thompson, Joseph Marshall, and Edward Hedges owned bonds valued at $1,350 dollars on which $27 in interest had accrued.

Liberty Loan Poster

Third Liberty Loan Poster

______________________________________________________________________________________

More Hardship

Leave a reply

Volunteers at St. Elizabeths Hospital who Worked With Shell Shocked Vets, courtesy George Washington University

Dr. Hummer faced other difficulties associated with the war effort (see last post), particularly a troublesome personnel shortage. He told the commissioner of Indian Affairs that “it is extremely difficult to fill the existing vacancies and I am compelled to keep two or three employees who should be separated.” Since Hummer was typically just fine with a bare-bones staff, his situation at this point was dire; in August, 1918, he had only one male and one female attendant on staff (he should have had three of each). Hummer suggested an increase in pay as a possible solution to his problem, to $40/month with board and lodging for male attendants, and $35/month with board and lodging for females.

A project near and dear to Hummer’s heart also gave way to the war effort: the Indian Office denied his request for an epileptic cottage. This was partly because the asylum still had some vacancies and didn’t seem to need additional rooms. More importantly, as the assistant commissioner of Indian Affairs pointed out, the administration was already in the middle of a huge building program that “will of necessity withdraw carpenters from every section of the country.” Hummer may have been able to counter this with an offer by locals to help with construction, but even he could not argue with E. B. Meritt’s second consideration: there was a need for economy elsewhere in the expenditure of public funds “in order to more successfully prosecute the war.”

U.S. Troops Cross Moselle Into Germany, courtesy Notre Dame University

Classroom of American Red Cross Students, 1917 or 1918, courtesy Library of Congress

Hummer had perhaps anticipated this emphasis on war concerns when he made the following suggestion: “It is possible that the present war will necessitate the construction of another building at this place to care for the insane Indian soldiers or sailors, provided your Office deems this proper.” One way or another, the superintendent wanted additional buildings and patients.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Other Difficult Times

Leave a reply

The Depression brought hard times to the country, South Dakota, and the Canton Asylum for Insane Indians. The 1930s was not the only difficult period it had faced, though–the Great War (WWI) had also strained the asylum’s capabilities.

Poster Urging Americans to Use Various Grains, courtesy Library of Congress

All Americans were urged to conserve food and materials, and many stirring posters reminded citizens of how vital their cooperation was to the war effort. Along with the rest of the country, the asylum supported American troops by cutting back on food so that the excess could be sent to soldiers overseas; meatless Mondays were a staple throughout the country. Superintendent Dr. Harry Hummer also initiated other measures to counter “the food situation” brought about by the war. In a letter dated July 4, 1918, Hummer reported to the commissioner of Indian Affairs that he had had to institute “one beefless, one porkless, and one meatless days” each week, along with six extra meatless meals each week. No one liked the new menu, and Hummer reported “a considerable degree of grumbling and discontent among the less patriotic of our employees.”

Mina C. Winkle, Head of Lecture Bureau of Food Administration, 1917, courtesy National Archives

Flour Being Unloaded and Carried to Red Cross Warehouse, courtesy Library of Congress

 

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

News is Up Close and Personal

Leave a reply
Family on South Dakota Prairie

Family on South Dakota Prairie

Most people in Canton, SD probably knew each other or knew of each other–if they didn’t, it wasn’t because The Sioux Valley News wasn’t keeping them informed. Continue reading →

And More Statistics

Leave a reply

Menominee Indian Family, 1931

The government always liked to gather statistics (see last post), and Dr. Hummer was forced to complete many reports for the Commissioner of Indian Affairs. A report from June 30, 1924 gives a good snapshot of the institution. There were 50 males and 47 females from 31 different tribes; six patients were of unknown tribal affiliation. At the time of the report, the Sioux and Chippewa tribes were disproportionally represented; 19 patients were Sioux, and 14 were Chippewa. Statistics since opening told the same story: 68 Sioux had been admitted since 1902, 40 Chippewa, and 20 Menominee.

Though Hummer continually advocated for an epileptic cottage, epilepsy did not seem to be his biggest problem. Before the asylum closed, an independent doctor from St. Elizabeths noted that Hummer had lumped patients with any kind of convulsions into “epileptic” status, even though they were not truly epileptic. What Hummer really needed were good protocols and staff to care for lung issues. By 1924, the asylum had had 143 deaths. Fifty-one of them were from tuberculosis, and another 17 from some type of pneumonia. Only 14 patients had died of epileptic convulsions, with another four dying from exhaustion following convulsions.

Chippewa Indians in Ceremonial Dress, courtesy University of Minnesota, Duluth

Calvin Coolidge Meets with Sioux Indians from Rosebud Reservation on Lawn of White House, 1925

______________________________________________________________________________________

Suspect Diagnosis

Leave a reply

Jury of Clergymen to Try Insane, Chicago Daily News, 1911

Patients were committed to insane asylums with relative ease during the 1800s and into the 1900s. Though many undoubtedly needed help, others were simply a nuisance to their relatives for one reason or another. Though whites were improperly committed sometimes, Native Americans were particularly helpless when it came to defending themselves against a charge of insanity; most were wards of the government at this time and had few rights. Reservation superintendents had great power, and their opinions about a particular Indian’s mental state carried great weight.

Superintendent O. S. Gifford wrote to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Francis Luepp, in 1908, with a dilemma. A woman named Blue Sky had been admitted to the asylum from the La Pointe Agency at some earlier time, but seemed to be ready for discharge. The snag was how to get her home. Since she didn’t speak or understand English, Gifford was reluctant to just release her on a difficult journey. He asked Luepp for funds to provide an escort to her home in Minnesota.

Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Francis E. Luepp

Though the correspondence seems to end there, escorts were provided to other discharged patients and  Blue Sky probably received one. The real problem is how she could be committed if she couldn’t understand English. Gifford and his assistant, Dr. Turner, would have found it difficult to diagnose any real complaint or provide treatment, unless she had a physical, rather than a mental problem. Yet, Blue Sky apparently recovered from whatever had sent her to the institution and displayed some sort of behavior that indicated that she had. Perhaps she had suffered an emotional blow that led to depression or excessive grief. Perhaps she had problems with family members, and simply needed a break from them. Speculation is all that is possible at this point, but the language barrier is a particularly ominous aspect of the case.

Old Indian Burial Ground in La Pointe, Wisconsin

______________________________________________________________________________________

Dancing Controversy

Leave a reply

Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Charles Burke

Native American dancing caused controversy for several reasons (see last post). Missionaries saw paganism or sexual immorality in dancing, and also considered it a hindrance to their efforts to convert Indians to Christianity; the Indian Office felt that traditional dancing impeded Indians’ assimilation into white culture. Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Charles Burke, had threatened action if dancing wasn’t sharply curtailed, and this was no idle threat. The Religious Crimes Code of 1883 gave agency superintendents authority to use force or imprisonment to stop practices they felt were immoral, subversive, or counter to government assimilation policies. Though all Native American dancing was denounced, government attention and a great deal of controversy eventually centered on the Pueblos and their dances.

By the time Burke issued his directives against dancing (Circular No. 1665 and its supplement) in 1921 and 1923, the changing times brought a bit of opposition he hadn’t anticipated. By the 1920s, a group of reformers, intellectuals, artists, and other non-traditionalists had begun to support Native American culture. They pushed back against Burke and others with an assimilation agenda, and eventually drummed up enough publicity and legal opposition to defeat some of the more outrageous demands of whites in power. They particularly used the guarantees of religious freedom as a weapon to defend native culture; both Pueblos and their white supporters emphasized that dancing was part of Native American religious ceremonies.

Squaw Dance at Pine Ridge Reservation, July 4, 1891, courtesy Library of Congress

Squaws Ready for Dance at Valentine, Nebraska between 1890 and 1910, courtesy Library of Congress

As time went on and more liberal views of Native American culture emerged in Congress, Burke and others of like mind began to lose power. Former Commissioner of Indian Affairs, John Collier, writing in his memoir, From Every Zenith, described a visit to a Navajo reservation in the late 1920s. During that visit, two senators, a government attorney, and the assistant commissioner of Indian Affairs, J. Henry Scattergood, danced the squaw dance with the unmarried Navajo girls.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Dancing and Morals

2 Replies

Dance at Zia Pueblo, New Mexico, between 1890 and 1910, courtesy Library of Congress

Missionaries trying to convert Native Americans to Christianity took particular exception to the traditional dances of native peoples. Some Christian denominations considered dancing immoral for anyone–whites included–but even denominations that might have tolerated a lively square dance typically found Native American dancing somewhat shocking. Whether it was the sometimes scanty apparel of participants, the exuberance of certain dances, or simple unfamiliarity on their part, missionaries often lumped all their objections into a universal condemnation. Native American dances were “degrading” in their eyes.

The Indian Office frequently backed missionaries in their assessments of Indian culture, and certainly did in this case. In the 1920s, Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Charles Burke, issued two directives against dancing: Circular No. 1665, Indian Dancing (1921), and a supplement to it two years later. Eventually, the dancing controversy centered upon the Pueblos. They, as well as white supporters, contended that their dances were part of their religion and should be protected, while missionaries and supporters of assimilation argued that the dances were merely pagan rituals. The resulting clash over religious rights eventually sent a powerful message to the Indian Office.

My next post will further discuss the dancing controversy.

Corn Dance at San Felipe Pueblo, New Mexico, 1915, courtesy Library of Congress

Southern Plains Indian Social Dance, circa 1895

______________________________________________________________________________________