Listed below is a piece of history. Real unvarnished Canadian History. You have not read it before as it has never been published, rather was contained in a stack of old family letters and documents. About a year ago it was rediscovered and I have sought to transcribe it word for word. It is rare that one gets to see something entirely new and different from the past, directly through to you via the eyes of another. Transcribed below is a copy of a letter, written by an officer in the RCMP to his wife. In it he describes a chance event he was lucky enough to get invited to. The year was 1885 while the country was embroiled in conflict in the West with Louis Real and his Metris brethren. It was at the same time as this conflict when the officer in question Captain Wallace C. Trotter, joined regional Governor Dewdney (Lieutenant Governor of the North-West Territories) for a meeting with native Cree leadership at a ceremonial gathering just east of Regina in the Qu-Appelle Valley.

The invitation was for the Governor and some of his officers to meet Chief Pi-a-Pot, his elders and fellow chiefs at a Pow Wow. What you will experience is a description of life on the Great Plains at the time, delivered in a raw, unfiltered, introspective and interested perspective. In it, the author, Trotter, provides us with a unique view into a people and culture completely foreign to him. You will notice his inherent bias. It is uninformed in the ways, reasons and cultures of the people that you would expect. He was not one of them but yet he was documenting them. Reading this letter, however, gives us the opportunity to experience what he saw, felt, heard, smelled and sensed as he did. It is a fascinating piece of literature.

In invite you to read this letter while being mindful of our own inherent bias. Be mindful, yet set aside our modern-day sensitivities and read the words as if you were a friend of the author’s wife as she read aloud the letter during an afternoon visit. What we are reading about was in a different time and experienced by different peoples. The author may not have understood or truly appreciated what he saw either…yet he gives us literal perspective of what he noticed, detailed exactly what heard and tells us how he felt when he saw it. Theirs (the Cree) was a rich, ancient culture built upon centuries of tradition. The ceremony being described is called the Sun Dance. This ceremony was practiced by the natives of the Great Plains both in Canada and in the United States. It was conducted by the Cree, Cheyenne, Dakota, Lakota (Sioux) and Nakota peoples. What is unique about this particular account is the fact that it even exists at all. The Sun Dance was a sacred ceremony where the ‘white man’ was never permitted to see. However, in Trotter’s letter we are being given a sneak peak into an amazing ceremony that epitomizes their community structure, warrior culture, deep appreciation for the earth, nature itself and the human spirit.

Please also be mindful of the contemporary relevance of the event and why it still resonates 135 years later.While the author is amazed by the ‘nobles peoples’ he met and was astounded by the ceremony he witnessed, at the same time, he individuals surrounding him, including and probably specifically the Governor himself, were the same people who created one of the first residential schools in the west. A residential school was established nearby at Qu’Appelle in/around 1885. The children whom he describes or mentions in the letter would soon be forced residents in a school system devised to eradicate the very culture he celebrated. Soon after this time and in a progressive and aggressive manner, the people, religions, languages and traditions described would be subject to a virtual cultural genocide. This letter is one avenue we can take to remember, to appreciate, learn from and respect some of the original Canadians who peopled this great land.

Pile of Bones River

Camp Regina

May 30th, 1885

I am going to give you a few notes of a trip we made yesterday to Pia-a-Pots reserve.

Governor Dewdney invited the Colonel and 4 officers to go with him to a “Pow Wow”, and the Colonel chose as he saw those officers who had distinguished themselves by hard work in Camp, and I had the honour of being one of them. The party consisted of Governor Dewdney, Col. Oswald, Major Atkinson, Capt. Lavoie, Capt. Stevenson and myself.

We left camp at 7:30am in two wagons with 2 horses each and drove across the Prairie 11 miles where we found a relay of horses. This 11 miles was a perfectly flat plain and on a very hot day. The mirages were lovely. In one place we saw what we thought was a very large lake, but on coming up nearer we were disappointed as it vanished. Trees miles distant and below the horizon disappeared 4 degrees or 5 degrees above the horizon, and Indian teepees were throw up in clear vision. After 6 miles we got into underbrush and drove continuously thru until we reached Pia-a-Pot Reserve, 28 miles from camp. There we found Indian agent McKinnon who had been through all the trouble with the Indians. He has been on the point of being murdered several times as more than half of Pia-a-Pot’s “bucks” have joined the rebels. He has great influence over them and kept Pia-a-Pot’s loyal (the Gov. says). We first went to get a full view of the Qu’appelle Valley. This was one of the most beautiful sights I ever saw. The Valley is two miles wide and bordered by cliffs nearly perpendicular 500 feet high. The Qu’Appelle River is a stream say 50 feet wide, and winds down the valley each side of it, and a mile on each side is rich grassland –one of the great feeding places of the Buffalo until a few years ago. The cliffs on each side are cut up into coolies and gave us a grand idea of the difficulties our troops had to dislodge the Indians from them. The views extended as far as the eyes can reach right and left with an endless plane in front.

We had lunch at the Agent’s farm and then drove two miles to the right to the Indian town. We got there in 20 minutes but before getting there were met by a runner from Pia-a-Pot who said the Chief would be winning to admit the Governor but not let the soldiers come. We sent back to say we would leave our arms and go amongst them perfectly unarmed, trusting to their loyalty. So the runner went back and presently returned saying the great Warriors of the Great White Mother were welcome so we went on. The first we saw of the village was an immense number of teepees arranged in a square covering half a square mile. Outside, under the charge of boys some 400 or 500 horses were grazing - hobbled at two front feet. In the center of the square was a large marquee formed of buffalo hides, and the sides were decorated with branches of trees. When we got up to the marquee Pia a Pot came out in a state with several Chiefs to welcome us and asked us inside. As soon as we got in we found to our horror they were torturing two young men. My blood ran cold and I felt sick at the sight. The one nearest to us had a skewer of wood through each breast to which were attached two cords and he had to walk around in a semi circle bearing his weight on the ropes and try to tear the flesh out. WE had to stand and watch it and show no concern or fear as we might have been brained at any moment in we had interfered. The poor fellow kept it up for 10 minutes after we got there and then fainted. He was caught by two men who bore him back till they tore the flesh and liberated the skewers. The shock brought him to and he walked to the medicine pole and buried his face in between two coloured cotton-like flags as if ashamed of himself for his weakness, and he went to the foot of the Chief for his sentence which was delivered in loud tones and interpreted to us as ordering him to undergo the trial again before being admitted a Warrior of the tribe. The other man being tortured was at the other end of the tent opposite us and had skewers through each arm just below the shoulders and were attached to heavy ropes to the medicine pole, and he had to keep dancing up and down, and every time he moved of course the ropes pulled with a jerking movement on the skewers. We were in the tent about an hour and half and this fellow stood it out all the time, and did not show by his face that anything was wrong. He looked perfectly stoical – every time the music stopped he threw himself back to try to tear the flesh away but did not succeed.

I should have explained this ceremony is the ‘sun dance’. These Indians are pagans and worship the sun. They commence the dance at sunrise on Thursday and stop at sundown today – about 60 hours – and during that time they fast. The ceremony besides the torturing consists of the braves of the tribe arranged in a double circle around the medicine pole – they are covered up to the waist with a ring of branches which divides the dancers from the center where the square is about 18 feet across. In the center the medicine man stands and a few of the great chiefs lie and squat. At one end were 6 men with drums which they beat in good time. Each dancer has a whistle which they must keep in their mouths without taking it out for the whole term of the dance. The medicine man makes a speech and excites them, and they all get up and pipe a monotonous row – the squaws coming every now and then coming in with a delirious chant. They keep this up about 15 minutes and then the medicine man makes some mysterious passes with his hands and dances like a demon and yells, and they gradually one by one disappear behind the branches. Then the old warriors of the tribe get up and recount their glorious deeds in speeches about 10 minutes long, and the men grunt their approval in a sound like “How”. They say “How” whenever they are pleased and it is an exclamation of greeting too.

The men who were being tortured were painted yellow and were naked except for a loin cloth. The dancers were pained all colours. One had his face painted blue down to the bridge of his nose including his hair. The rest of his face was painted vermillion streaked with black. Some were painted one side yellow, the other blue or scarlet or black. With streaks down their faces, they looked horrible. The costume they wear consist of a pair of leggings with a fringe as wide as the leg – they are blue, scarlet, vermillion or mixed colours –when they have a waist cloth which competes the uniform except that each has a blanket which is sometimes on and often off their shoulders. Their bodies are painted and tattooed all colours.

At the “Pow Wow”, Pia-a-Pot first made a speech and amongst other things said –Eleven years ago he was told by the Gov (Dewdney) that if he remained loyal the Great Mother would give his young men and old men and women beans and flour to eat, and power to shoot game. The Great Mother has kept her promise. Before the snow left the ground runners from Riel came to him and said the great Mother had sent all her warriors across the great waters, and the Indians could recover their lost land if they joined him. Riel said he was a great spirit who had been sent by the “Sun” to help the Indians – that he could turn the mountains into prairie and make the Qu’Appelle River run the other way –that he would help the Indians drive the white men off the plains and that the Buffalo would come back and they would have lots of food and be as happy as they used to be. Pia-a-Pot continued – “I knew they lied, and the presence of the great Chiefs of the Great Mother’s who were there then in different uniforms from any that they had ever showed that there were more white warriors than could be counted and he had heard how the Grand Chief (Middleton) had beaten the Indians, and had taken Riel a prisoner”. He had said he had fought hundreds of battles with the Blackfeet and Sioux and killed many great warriors, but had never turned his gun against a white man, and his loyalty in this case can he heard of for generations, and his fame would extend as far as Winnipeg. (the end of the world to him). He then shook hands all around us and the Dance was resumed. After a while the Governor thru the interpreter introduced the Colonel and ourselves to the crowd as his friends and their friends, and the warriors had guns that made noise like thunder and would carry shots all across the prairies that had come to be his friends, and would kill any bad Indians who attacked them. This was received with “How” “How” and general shaking of painted and greasy hands with all the Chiefs. The Colonel then gave them 50 lbs of tobacco and 20 lbs of tea. This elicited “How’s” again – the squaws and the children lying round, and all but the very small children painted.

I gave a squaw who had a baby about a year old a plug of tobacco. She took it without a sign of “Thank you” and smelled it—took a bote and gave it to the baby who at once put it in his mouth baby-like and appeared to like it. The interpreter told us that today they were going to continue the torture and will skewer the men through the backs of their shoulders and hand two or three or sometimes six rifles to the skewers, and they have to dance to tear them out. They also suspend themselves by skewers and ropes and do the “Giant Swing”.

I have often read of the noble Red Man but never before saw one. There were several of them 6 foot 6 inches high, and one chief in particular was a grand looking man. He was standing beside Lavoie and was at least 5 inches taller than he is. He had a beautiful face—a large Roman nose—perfectly regular features –large bright eyes – pearly shite teeth – and stood as erect as possible –was very “big made” without any superfluous flesh—(his name was Mus-qua ho chi)—his legs were bare above the leggings and showed grand muscles—his body and arms were bare (except for the blanket) and showed muscles like iron cables. He has white leggings with a wide scarlet fringe and painted with his “totem” (an Eagle). On his head he had a headdress like a busby, made of ermine skins (the hat had no top) out of which stuck eagle wing feathers. His hair was plaited in a plait four inches wide and reached almost to his knees. He had a remarkable dignity of expression and was, we were told, the descendent of a long line of great and noble chief of the Crees. We all agreed that he was the most magnificent man we had ever seen.

When we were leaving, the Governor invited Pia-a-Pot, Mus-qua ho chi and the medicine man to come to our camp on Tuesday. At first they refused to come as they said they feared treachery, but would come if they could bring their warriors. This the Gov. would not allow and told them they had gone to their camp without fear and unarmed. After a while they promised to come if the Indian agent accompanied them as “they trusted him”. This was agreed to, and the Colonel has been sent to Winnipeg for a photographer, and we are going to have them photographed with a group of our officers. If they will stand it, it will be nice to have a photo of them. The Governor has never seen a Sun Dance before, and the customer is almost dead except with a few of the wildest of the Indians, and we have seen what very few white men have ever seen, and what will be a thing of the past very soon. It was no joke going on those wild fellow as we did, and they scowled at us and looked awfully wicket at first, as Dewdney said, the least indiscretion would have had serious results. But after we made them the presents they changed and were peaceable.

The reason the Governor went was that the bands from all round the plains were assembled, and it was one of the largest Pow Wows they had for many years, and it was just as likely to end in their all setting off on the war path. He said in all probability our going amongst them and showing we did not fear them has prevented them from joining Big Bear. Pia a Pot or (“The man who is always victorious”—or something to that effect) is a very clever wily fellow, and one of the most powerful chiefs at the present day. His loyalty has been a matter of utmost importance to the Government.

Cole, Lane, Dr. Coleman and some others had gone out today. The account of our trip will be in the Gazette. Lane writes for the Witness but he can’t do it justice from what I have seen of his writings.

I must close to catch the mail. Goodbye to all. With best love.

Always yours….Wallace C. Trotter Capt.

The SUN Dance - A view from the outside in