Okay, here is a 1200-word journalistic article in English about the Ute War of Colorado history.
The Echoes of "Utes Must Go!": Colorado’s Violent Land Grab and the Ute War of 1879
The vast, rugged landscapes of Western Colorado, now celebrated for their natural beauty and outdoor recreation, hold a history etched in conflict, betrayal, and forced displacement. It is a story not of pioneers bravely taming a wilderness, but often of a powerful nation ruthlessly seizing land from its original inhabitants. At the heart of this dark chapter lies the Ute War of 1879, a series of violent clashes and political machinations that irrevocably altered the destiny of the Ute people and opened millions of acres to Anglo-American settlement.
For centuries, the Ute people, or "Nuche" as they called themselves, were the undisputed masters of a sprawling domain that stretched across much of present-day Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, and Wyoming. They were skilled hunters, horsemen, and warriors, intimately connected to the land’s rhythms and resources. Their semi-nomadic lifestyle, following game and seasons, was in perfect harmony with the diverse ecosystems of the Rocky Mountains and the high desert plateaus.
However, this ancient way of life was destined to collide with the relentless tide of American expansion. The Pikes Peak Gold Rush of 1859 brought a deluge of prospectors, miners, and settlers into Colorado Territory, igniting an insatiable hunger for land and its riches. Treaties, ostensibly designed to protect Ute lands, quickly became instruments of their diminishment. The Treaty of 1863 established a reservation in western Colorado, but still ceded vast mineral-rich territories. Just five years later, the Treaty of 1868 further confined the Utes to a much smaller reservation in the western third of Colorado, still encompassing some 12 million acres, but a fraction of their ancestral domain. Even this, however, was deemed too generous by a rapidly expanding white population.
The stage for the Ute War was set at the White River Ute Agency in northwestern Colorado. In 1878, Nathan Meeker, a zealous idealist and former newspaper editor with no prior experience with Native Americans, was appointed agent. Meeker, a follower of Horace Greeley’s utopian socialist ideals, envisioned transforming the Utes into sedentary Christian farmers. He believed their traditional hunting and nomadic lifestyle was inherently "savage" and an impediment to progress.
From the outset, Meeker’s approach was characterized by a profound lack of understanding and respect for Ute culture. He demanded that they abandon their traditions, adopt farming, and send their children to school. He cut their rations to force compliance and, most provocatively, ordered his employees to plow up a field that the Utes used as a horse racetrack – a central part of their social and spiritual life. This act of blatant disregard ignited a furious confrontation between Meeker and Chief Douglas, a respected Ute leader. Meeker subsequently wired the governor, claiming he had been assaulted and demanding military intervention.
The call for troops was precisely the catalyst many expansionist politicians and land speculators had been waiting for. Colorado’s Governor Frederick Pitkin, whose reelection campaign was riding on a platform of removing the Utes, enthusiastically supported Meeker’s request. Pitkin famously declared, "The Utes must go! The Utes must go!" a rallying cry that would echo through the territory and ultimately lead to tragedy.
On September 21, 1879, Major Thomas T. Thornburgh departed Fort Fred Steele, Wyoming, leading a column of 175 soldiers of the U.S. Army’s 4th Infantry and 5th Cavalry, along with civilian teamsters and scouts, towards the White River Agency. Thornburgh was instructed to investigate the situation and restore order, but also to avoid conflict if possible.
The Ute leaders, including Chief Ouray – a visionary leader known for his diplomatic skills and efforts to bridge the gap between his people and the encroaching white world – desperately tried to avert bloodshed. Ouray, though respected, struggled to control all factions of his people, some of whom were increasingly frustrated by broken treaties and paternalistic policies. He sent messages to Thornburgh, urging him not to bring troops onto the reservation, promising to address Meeker’s concerns if the soldiers remained outside. Thornburgh, however, pressed on, believing his orders superseded Ute sovereignty.
The conflict erupted on September 29, 1879. As Thornburgh’s column advanced into a narrow canyon along Milk Creek, just a few miles from the agency, they were ambushed by Ute warriors. The Utes, highly skilled marksmen and strategists, had taken up positions in the surrounding bluffs. Major Thornburgh was among the first killed, shot through the head. The ensuing battle was fierce and chaotic. The soldiers quickly formed a defensive perimeter, digging in behind dead horses and supply wagons. For five days, they were besieged, suffering heavy casualties while awaiting relief. In total, 13 soldiers and 27 civilians were killed, and 48 wounded, before Colonel Wesley Merritt’s relief column arrived on October 5th, forcing the Utes to withdraw.
Simultaneously, on that same fateful day of September 29th, a separate tragedy unfolded at the White River Agency. Enraged by the advancing troops and the perceived betrayal, a group of Ute warriors attacked the agency. Nathan Meeker and ten of his employees were killed. The agency buildings were set ablaze. Meeker’s wife, Arvilla, his daughter Josephine, and Mrs. Price and her two children were taken captive by the Utes.
The news of the "Meeker Massacre" and the Milk Creek Battle sent shockwaves across the nation, fueling a frenzy of anti-Ute sentiment. Newspapers sensationalized the events, depicting the Utes as bloodthirsty savages. The cry "The Utes Must Go!" became a national imperative, obscuring the long history of land encroachment and broken promises that had led to the conflict.
The fate of the captive women and children became a central point of negotiation. Chief Ouray, despite his failing health and the immense pressure from Washington, played a crucial role in securing their release. His wife, Chipeta, a woman of immense courage and influence, personally traveled to the Ute camps to negotiate with the warriors holding the captives, risking her own safety to ensure their freedom. Their efforts ultimately succeeded, and the women and children were released unharmed in late October.
The Ute War provided the political pretext needed to seize the remaining Ute lands. In 1880, despite Chief Ouray’s valiant efforts to negotiate a fair settlement for his people, the U.S. Congress passed an act that forced the White River and Uncompahgre Utes to cede their entire reservation in Colorado and relocate to a new reservation in Utah. The Southern Utes, who had not participated in the hostilities, were allowed to remain in Colorado but on a significantly reduced reservation along the New Mexico border, under constant threat of further removal.
The forced removal was a brutal ordeal. Thousands of Utes were uprooted from their ancestral lands, leaving behind sacred sites, traditional hunting grounds, and the graves of their ancestors. They were resettled in a desolate, arid region of Utah, far from the fertile valleys and abundant game of Colorado. Many perished during the journey or from the harsh conditions of their new home.
The Ute War of 1879 marked the end of the Utes’ independent existence in Colorado. It opened up millions of acres of land for mining, ranching, and farming, fueling Colorado’s economic boom. Towns like Grand Junction, Montrose, and Durango sprang up on lands that had belonged to the Utes for millennia.
Today, the legacy of the Ute War lives on in the sovereign Ute Mountain Ute Tribe and Southern Ute Indian Tribe, who persist on their remaining reservations in southwestern Colorado and Utah. Their resilience in the face of immense adversity is a testament to their enduring spirit and cultural strength.
The story of the Ute War serves as a stark reminder of the often-violent and unjust nature of American westward expansion. It is a complex narrative of conflicting cultures, broken treaties, and the devastating consequences of unchecked greed and manifest destiny. As we look upon Colorado’s majestic landscapes, the echoes of "Utes Must Go!" remind us of the profound human cost of progress and the enduring importance of remembering the true history of the land we inhabit. It is a call to acknowledge the past, honor the sacrifices, and recognize the ongoing sovereignty and cultural heritage of the Ute people.
