SOUTHWEST OKLAHOMA OPEN FOR WHITE SETTLEMENT
For most of the second half of the nineteenth century, the land that is now southwestern Oklahoma was the land of the Comanche, Kiowa and Kiowa-Apache tribes, but that began to change about 1890.
In 1892, elders of the Kiowa, Comanche and the Kiowa-Apache tribes met in a series of talks with federal land commissioners headed by David Jerome, at a site near Fort Sill. After days of talks, the tribal representatives finally signed the commissioners’ paper, agreeing to sell most of their land for ninety-two cents an acre. Every man, woman and child would be allotted 160 acres of their own.
Later, these same men whose names/marks were on the agreement would make an impressive case that they had been misled either by the commissioners or the interpreters, they couldn’t know which, as to the actual contents of the agreement. To give the Indian men a picture of the amount of money their tribes stood to gain by signing with them, they told them it was like ten wagon loads of silver dollars. It wasn’t made clear that this money would be kept in the U.S. Treasury forever, with the interest being distributed to tribal members at intervals over the years.
Together the tribes fought congressional ratification of the Jerome Agreement. They went right up to Washington, D.C. During the decade of the 1890’s these men learned to fight in a new way. Every year they sent a delegation of the most powerful men from each tribe. They became quite proficient at lobbying, the white man’s way of solving disputes without shooting or scalping anyone, usually.
One newspaper account reported, “There’s the Kiowa, the Comanche, the Kiowa-Apache and the Texas ranchers standing on one side of it and then there’s the folks who just want a piece of land and the Oklahoma and Kansas Congressional representatives on the other. Long as they keep on going toe-to-toe like that, the agreement’s going to be stuck there in Washington. They bring it up for a vote every year and every year it’s voted down.”
In June 1900, the Jerome Agreement was finally ratified. It happened at a time when congress was distracted by unrest in Cuba and the Philippines, along with election-year politics. Dennis Flynn, a representative from Oklahoma Territory was able to slide a bill through congress, directing President McKinley to make the arrangements for the opening of the ceded lands. The bill gave him a deadline for doing so.
Another newspaper article, “…Congressman Charles Curtis, who just returned from Washington D.C. says that by the terms of the act of Congress opening the Kiowa, Comanche and Apache reservations, the manner of the opening is left with the president, and he adds that, therefore, there will be no grand rush or horse race, and all sooners will be shut out. Two plans are proposed, says Mr. Curtis. One is to allot the land to the people first, sending letters after a specific date. The other is to heap all the letters containing cards with the number of quarter sections of land marked on them, together
with enough blanks to make the required number equal to the letters, and draw them after the lottery plan. The opening will be about August 1. (Emphasis added)
In accordance with the Jerome Agreement, tribal members had already selected their own piece of land. Each Kiowa, Comanche and Kiowa-Apache man, woman and child had been allotted, one 160-acre tract of land. Though some of the elders had proudly refused in protest to select their parcel of land, the U.S. Land Office simply assigned a piece to them.
It was reported in an Altus, O.T. newspaper of the time that a man called Kiowa George, the father of twelve children, had shrewdly staked all 13 claims near Mountain View and got 2,080 acres of the best land in the area. Now, that was the intent of those Indians who were in favor of the Agreement. “The white man is going to come. If we like it or if we don’t like it. Nothing you could do will stop it. Might as well get you a good piece of land — big as you can.”
It was announced that the date for beginning of registration for the lottery had been set for July 10. When the proclamation finally came out, this little piece of information through many in Oklahoma Territory and surrounding states into a whirlwind of activity. They had only days to decide whether to go or not, and if they were going – did they want to purchase train tickets or drive their own rigs.
The railroad companies rushed about, attempting to book everyone who wanted it, some kind of passage. It all caused a great deal of mayhem. Cheap tickets were sold for floor space in the aisles and in cattle cars. Some would even ride on top of cars — without a ticket. El Reno and Fort Sill had been named as the two locations for registration. El Reno was accessible by train — Fort Sill was not.
For those who came to Fort Sill, on wagons or on horseback, the first sighting was of the Wichita Mountains. The Wichita’s were impressive. A small range, they ran east to west for about 40 miles. Alongside the Rockies these mountains would have looked like mere piles of rocks. The impressive thing about them was the fact that they were here protruding up out of a vast prairie. Giant, granite boulders seemed, in places, to have been precariously stacked one on top of the other.
Like a giant swarm of locusts, land-seekers descended upon the Post Office at Fort Sill the morning of July 10. The size of the crowd far exceeded all projections, and the small army installation was not equipped to handle the invasion – peaceful though it was. Small groups of men gravitated near the front door. Some spent the night there – playing cards, telling stories, swapping lies and making sure they’d be one of the first through the door. By 9:00 a.m. the line coiled around the quadrangle of the fort and down toward the corral.
El Reno too, was jampacked with people. Complicating matters there was the fact that all who’d arrived by train were expecting to be put up in a rooming house or a hotel. But all rooming houses and hotels were full and overflowing. A bed of all sort, a pile of hay – was soon in great demand.
The eastern-thinking advisors to Secretary of the Interior Hitchcock, had grossly underestimated the number of hardy souls who would be willing to make the long haul south to the old army outpost established during the Indian wars in early 1869. This had not discouraged those hardy souls. The sheer numbers of land-seekers at Fort Sill and El Reno were shocking. With each wire transmission to Washington, the estimates of the size of the crowds went upward. The planners had simply underestimated the extent of hunger for this land.
Registration dates had been set for July 10 through July 26. At Fort Sill, 29,883 people registered and 120,685 at El Reno. The land was separated into a southern (Lawton Land Office) and a northern part (El Reno Land Office) with 6500 quarters in each division. Registrants had to specify the division but could register at both places. Most Con. 8 land was in the southern division, but the place of registration was a matter of convenience. El Reno had stores and hotels, but at Lawton the major place of accommodation was along the banks of Cache Creek where more than 10,000 were camped at one time.
To reduce confusion, expedite the registration process and hopefully eliminate violence, a plan was implemented. The men were told to form into companies of 100 men each, not 102 or even 99, but exactly 100. Then each group would elect a captain from within its ranks. Each captain would report to the land office, be given a number and return to their company of 100. By keeping track of the number of the company currently being registered at any given time, the men could easily determine the approximate time that their company would need to gather at the land office. They were given one last caution – they were individually responsible for keeping themselves apprised of which company was registering – thereby estimating their own approximate registration time.
And the ladies? They could walk up at any time and be registered. Once at the registration desk they had to meet the same criteria as the men and swear they were the head of their household. Twenty-one-year-old unmarried men and women were considered heads of household.
Each person who registered for the drawing was given a Land Inspection Certificate. With it, the bearer was allowed to explore the Indian land without interference; provided he did not attempt to “settle” in any one place. Settlement on the Indian Lands was prohibited until after the 90-day period of filing claims. At this point, no matter what the drawing holds in store for them individually, it would be to the advantage of all to assess the land. It was of such enormity it would take several days roaming to completely investigate and appreciate its extent and qualities.
In March, prior to the registration, a federal team of surveyors had measured and marked the section lines of this huge area. The registered land-seekers would find a large pile of rocks and on top would be a rock about the size of a gallon bucket with the distinctive white markings of a survey crew. The markings are the description of the adjoining four quarters, such as: NW S 9; NE S 8; SW S 5; SE S 4 of T 1N, R 10W. This was to be translated as NorthWest corner of Section 9; NorthEast corner of Section 8; SouthEast corner of Section 5 and SouthWest corner of section 4 of Township 1 North, Range 10 West. When a desirable quarter-section, 160 acres, was located, this could then be found on the map in the Land Office. If your name was drawn and that quarter had not been previously claimed, then you could claim it as your homestead. A homestead was a quarter of a mile on all four sides.
Con. 8 community is in Townships 3 and 4 North and Ranges 18 and 19 West.
This was the same fenceless expanse of grass that, up until a year ago, the Comanche tribe leased to the Texas ranchers. All the Longhorn was supposed to have been rounded up and moved out but a few heads of cattle that had been missed were often encountered. Prairie fires, started by careless campers, burned most of the grass from the Washita River to the Red River. The only grass to be found was in the southern sandhills. Consequently, many of cattle that remained on the land died of starvation. A pair of travelers before the opening found carcasses of large numbers of cattle at Mission Springs, south of Lone Wolf. The pair also saw one of the last herds of antelopes in this part of the country. That was in September 1901, and there were only seven animals in the herd.
On July 29, the drawing began. Once it began, it would continue daily from 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. until all 160,000 envelopes had been drawn. All entry cards now enclosed in plain envelopes held the description of the entrant written down by a clerk at the time of registration. The numerical order in which a person’s envelope was drawn from the shuffling bins represented the order in which that person would be allowed to file for the 160 acres of his choice. The earlier the number, the better the selection. As the names were drawn and posted to a public ally displayed list, the men anxiously watched for their name to appear.
Even though lots could not be claimed until August 1, enterprising people had already set up temporary business sites. Lawton was already an enterprising settlement – its’ disorderly appearance notwithstanding. The tents weren’t laid in neat and orderly lines like the ones of military tent towns.
Business endeavors of all types marketed their wares out of tents and wagons. It was astounding to see what some of the tents held – hard to believe business could be done this way. There were places where one could purchase fresh meat and baked goods, several were serving meals, Vendors sold dry goods, lumber and hardware. Two or three pharmacists had arrived and were selling their medicines and cures. A barber had hung a sign on the back of his wagon.
There were tent saloons and gambling joints and crap games. Doctors, dentists, lawyers, sign-makers, newspaper editors, preachers, prostitutes and peddlers were all finding a way to do business. Lawton was off to a roaring good start.
The Sunday morning before the opening, the sound of hymn singing could be heard. A church service was being held in a tent that just a few hours before, during evening and nighttime hours, had been used as a saloon. Benches made of 2 x12’s held up by kegs placed strategically under them, became the pews. Everyone here was learning to make-do with what was available. Why not a church, as well. No doubt the new town would need plenty of churches.
Lawton was in law – limbo at this point. It was not yet officially a town, there could be no civil law established, except as was authorized by U.S. statutes. The task of keeping the peace was in the hands of the U.S. Marshals.
There being no federal law against gambling, the marshals could not arrest on that charge. A crowd of this size became a paradise for gamblers, card-sharks, pickpockets and confidence men. It was only a matter of time till the town was organized, a mayor elected, and city ordinances enacted. The saloons, gambling joints, pleasure palaces, charlatans, scam artists, were getting by with all the underhanded techniques and scams they could — working fast while Lawton was still in an unorganized state.
When complaints were lodges with U.S. Marshal Fossett, he replied, “Gentlemen, I am sworn to the faithful discharge of my duty and cannot arrest anyone unless they violate federal law. There is no federal law against gambling. So, as I see it, I need evidence of violation of a federal law before I can make an arrest.”
The town of Lawton had been laid out, lots measured and marked. Business and residential lots were sold at auction. As the day progressed, the grounds began to hint at the shape of things to come. Business owners moved their wagons and tents from the temporary locations to their newly purchased lots. Lawton was on its’ way to officially becoming a town with duly elected officials and established ordinances.
In the meantime, much was happening with the registered applicants hoping to gain claim to 160 acres. In the same order that the names were drawn, the men could go to the land office and make their choice of a quarter section. But not everyone intended to live on and farm their claim. Many of the claimants were land speculators, looking to make a few dollars. Even though your name might not be drawn, you still might be able to buy a relinquishment
Whether they had been lucky in the lottery, purchased a relinquishment, or acquired a claim from another, – all had to go through the “proving up” process. The homesteader had five years to meet the requirements. They must live on the land for 14 months. At the end of that time, they would list four neighbors, who would attest to the fact that the homesteader had made improvements. In this way, the homesteader proved he had done his job; built fences, sheds, a shelter to live in, and turned some soil. The neighbors signed affidavits attesting to the improvements made. After the statements were returned to the land office and a notice run in a local paper stating the homesteader’s intent, he would be allowed to pay $1.25 an acre and be given clear title to the land.
Typical improvements would be: a two story 14 feet x 14 feet box house, with a 14 feet x 10 feet shed addition, a water well dug, a hay barn, a fenced cow shed and pen, a fenced pig pen, a chicken house, a buggy shed, a storm cellar with cement walls and floor, twelve locust shade trees, about one hundred fruit trees, a vegetable garden, about 70 acres plowed and fenced with post and barb-wires, about 70 acres in prairie grass pasture fenced. All this had a value of $600 – $700. The information comes from an actual affidavit of a settler in the Con. 8 area. Along with this homesteader and others of his like, the Con. 8 community was soon heavily populated.