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A review by kevin_shepherd
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee: An Indian History of the American West by Dee Brown
5.0
Oh, the tenet of Manifest Destiny…
“…coined in 1845; the idea that the United States is destined — by God — to expand its dominion and spread democracy and capitalism across the entire North American continent.” ~history.com
If God is for us, who can be against us? ~Romans 8:31
“The bucks, squaws and paposes were shot down like sheep and those men never stopped as long as they could find one alive.” ~Thomas E. Breckenridge, Sacramento River Massacre, 1846
“The village was attacked before daybreak when everybody was still asleep. Neither old nor young was spared, and the [Sacramento] river was colored red by the blood of the innocent Indians.” ~Theodor Cordua, Sutter Massacre, 1847
“…[one Indian man] began to run, he nearly succeeded in getting away, but finally fell from a shot which unjointed his neck. He fell with 18 ball holes, mostly through his body, and when he fell he was running. I believe none got away.” ~Hosea Stout, Battle Creek Massacre, 1849
“Armed parties went into the rancherias in open day, when no evil was apprehended, and shot the Indians down — weak, harmless, and defenseless as they were — without distinction of age or sex; shot down women with sucking babes at their breasts; they killed or crippled the naked children that were running about." ~J. Ross Browne, Round Valley Massacre, 1856
“Blood stood in pools on all sides; the walls of the huts were stained and the grass colored red. Lying around were dead bodies of both sexes and all ages from the old man to the infant at the breast. Some had their heads split in twain by axes, others beaten into jelly with clubs, others pierced or cut to pieces with bowie knives.” ~Arcata newspaper report, Indian Island Massacre, 1860
“There was one little child, probably three years old, just big enough to walk through the sand. The Indians had gone ahead, and this little child was behind, following after them. The little fellow was perfectly naked, travelling in the sand. I saw one man get off his horse at a distance of about seventy-five yards and draw up his rifle and fire. He missed the child. Another man came up and said, 'let me try the son of a b-. I can hit him.' He got down off his horse, kneeled down, and fired at the little child, but he missed him. A third man came up, and made a similar remark, and fired, and the little fellow dropped.” ~Major Anthony, Sand Creek Massacre, 1864
This nation has never been able to reconcile its self-declarations of greatness and exceptionalism with the irrefutable fact that it was built on the twin pillars of slavery and genocide.
Dee Brown’s Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee is an accounting of an indigenous holocaust. It is a tally of broken treaty after broken treaty after broken treaty, and a serious disquisition on a bloody and sanctimonious American apartheid. A must-read.
“…coined in 1845; the idea that the United States is destined — by God — to expand its dominion and spread democracy and capitalism across the entire North American continent.” ~history.com
If God is for us, who can be against us? ~Romans 8:31
“The bucks, squaws and paposes were shot down like sheep and those men never stopped as long as they could find one alive.” ~Thomas E. Breckenridge, Sacramento River Massacre, 1846
“The village was attacked before daybreak when everybody was still asleep. Neither old nor young was spared, and the [Sacramento] river was colored red by the blood of the innocent Indians.” ~Theodor Cordua, Sutter Massacre, 1847
“…[one Indian man] began to run, he nearly succeeded in getting away, but finally fell from a shot which unjointed his neck. He fell with 18 ball holes, mostly through his body, and when he fell he was running. I believe none got away.” ~Hosea Stout, Battle Creek Massacre, 1849
“Armed parties went into the rancherias in open day, when no evil was apprehended, and shot the Indians down — weak, harmless, and defenseless as they were — without distinction of age or sex; shot down women with sucking babes at their breasts; they killed or crippled the naked children that were running about." ~J. Ross Browne, Round Valley Massacre, 1856
“Blood stood in pools on all sides; the walls of the huts were stained and the grass colored red. Lying around were dead bodies of both sexes and all ages from the old man to the infant at the breast. Some had their heads split in twain by axes, others beaten into jelly with clubs, others pierced or cut to pieces with bowie knives.” ~Arcata newspaper report, Indian Island Massacre, 1860
“There was one little child, probably three years old, just big enough to walk through the sand. The Indians had gone ahead, and this little child was behind, following after them. The little fellow was perfectly naked, travelling in the sand. I saw one man get off his horse at a distance of about seventy-five yards and draw up his rifle and fire. He missed the child. Another man came up and said, 'let me try the son of a b-. I can hit him.' He got down off his horse, kneeled down, and fired at the little child, but he missed him. A third man came up, and made a similar remark, and fired, and the little fellow dropped.” ~Major Anthony, Sand Creek Massacre, 1864
This nation has never been able to reconcile its self-declarations of greatness and exceptionalism with the irrefutable fact that it was built on the twin pillars of slavery and genocide.
Dee Brown’s Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee is an accounting of an indigenous holocaust. It is a tally of broken treaty after broken treaty after broken treaty, and a serious disquisition on a bloody and sanctimonious American apartheid. A must-read.