In restoring tranquillity the frontier had to rely largely upon its own resources. Its own Second Colorado was away doing duty in the Missouri campaign, while the eastern military situation presented no probability of troops being available to help out the West. Colonel Chivington and Governor John Evans, with the long-distance aid of General Curtis, were forced to make their own plans and execute them.
As early as June, Governor Evans began his corrective measures, appealing first to Washington for permission to raise extra troops, and then endeavoring to separate the friendly and warlike Indians in order that the former "should not fall victims to the impossibility of soldiers discriminating between them and the hostile, upon whom they must, to do any good, inflict the most severe chastisement." To this end, and with the consent of the Indian Department, he sent out a proclamation, addressed to "the friendly Indians of the Plains," directing them to keep away from those who were at war, and as evidence of friendship to congregate around the agencies for safety. Forts Lyons, Laramie, Larned, and Camp Collins were designated as concentration points for the several tribes. "None but those who intend to be friendly with the whites must come to these places. The families of those who have gone to war with the whites must be kept away from among the friendly Indians. The war on hostile Indians will be continued until they are all effectually subdued." The Indians, frankly at war, paid no attention to this invitation. Two small bands only sought the cover of the agencies, and with their exception, so Governor Evans reported on October 15, the proclamation "met no response from any of the Indians of the plains."
The war parties became larger and more general as the summer advanced, driving whites off the plains between the two trails for several hundred miles. But as fall approached, the tribes as usual sought peace. The Indians' time for war was summer. Without supplies, they were unable to fight through the winter, so that autumn brought them into a mood well disposed to peace, reservations, and government rations. Major Colley, the agent on the Sand Creek reserve at Fort Lyon, received an overture early in September. In a letter written for them on August 29, by a trader, Black Kettle, of the Cheyenne, and other chiefs declared their readiness to make a peace if all the tribes were included in it. As an olive branch, they offered to give up seven white prisoners. They admitted that five war parties, three Cheyenne and two Arapaho, were yet in the field.
Upon receipt of Black Kettle's letter, Major E. W. Wynkoop, military commander at Fort Lyon, marched with 130 men to the Cheyenne camp at Bend of Timbers, some eighty miles northeast of Fort Lyons. Here he found "from six to eight hundred Indian warriors drawn up in line of battle and prepared to fight." He avoided fighting, demanded and received the prisoners, and held a council with the chiefs. Here he told them that he had no authority to conclude a peace, but offered to conduct a group of chiefs to Denver, for a conference with Governor Evans.
On September 28, Governor Evans held a council with the Cheyenne and Arapaho chiefs brought in by Major Wynkoop; Black Kettle and White Antelope being the most important. Black Kettle opened the conference with an appeal to the governor in which he alluded to his delivery of the prisoners and Wynkoop's invitation to visit Denver. "We have come with our eyes shut, following his handful of men, like coming through the fire," Black Kettle went on. "All we ask is that we may have peace with the whites. We want to hold you by the hand. You are our father. We have been travelling through a cloud. The sky has been dark ever since the war began. These braves who are with me are all willing to do what I say. We want to take good tidings home to our people, that they may sleep in peace. I want you to give all these chiefs of the soldiers here to understand that we are for peace, and that we have made peace, that we may not be mistaken by them for enemies." To him Governor Evans responded that this submission was a long time coming, and that the nation had gone to war, refusing to listen to overtures of peace. This Black Kettle admitted.
"So far as making a treaty now is concerned," continued Governor Evans, "we are in no condition to do it.... You, so far, have had the advantage; but the time is near at hand when the plains will swarm with United States soldiers. I have learned that you understand that as the whites are at war among themselves, you think you can now drive the whites from this country; but this reliance is false. The Great Father at Washington has men enough to drive all the Indians off the plains, and whip the rebels at the same time. Now the war with the whites is nearly through, and the Great Father will not know what to do with all his soldiers, except to send them after the Indians on the plains. My proposition to the friendly Indians has gone out; [I] shall be glad to have them all come in under it. I have no new proposition to make. Another reason that I am not in a condition to make a treaty is that war is begun, and the power to make a treaty of peace has passed to the great war chief." He further counselled them to make terms with the military authorities before they could hope to talk of peace. No prospect of an immediate treaty was given to the chiefs. Evans disclaimed further powers, and Colonel Chivington closed the council, saying: "I am not a big war chief, but all the soldiers in this country are at my command. My rule of fighting white men or Indians is to fight them until they lay down their arms and submit." The same evening came a despatch from Major-general Curtis, at Fort Leavenworth, confirming the non-committal attitude of Evans and Chivington: "I want no peace till the Indians suffer more.... I fear Agent of the Interior Department will be ready to make presents too soon.... No peace must be made without my directions."
The chiefs were escorted home without their peace or any promise of it, Governor Evans believing that the great body of the tribes was still hostile, and that a decisive winter campaign was needed to destroy their lingering notion that the whites might be driven from the plains. Black Kettle had been advised at the council to surrender to the soldiers, Major Wynkoop at Fort Lyon being mentioned as most available. Many of his tribe acted on the suggestion, so that on October 20 Agent Colley, their constant friend, reported that "nearly all the Arapahoes are now encamped near this place and desire to remain friendly, and make reparation for the damages committed by them."
The Indians unquestionably were ready to make peace after their fashion and according to their ability. There is no evidence that they were reconciled to their defeat, but long experience had accustomed them to fighting in the summer and drawing rations as peaceful in the winter. The young men, in part, were still upon the war-path, but the tribes and the head chiefs were anxious to go upon a winter basis. Their interpreter who had attended the conference swore that they left Denver, "perfectly contented, deeming that the matter was settled," that upon their return to Fort Lyon, Major Wynkoop gave them permission to bring their families in under the fort where he could watch them better; and that "accordingly the chiefs went after their families and villages and brought them in, ... satisfied that they were in perfect security and safety."
While the Indians gathered around the fort, Major Wynkoop sent to General Curtis for advice and orders respecting them. Before the orders arrived, however, he was relieved from command and Major Scott J. Anthony, of the First Colorado Cavalry, was detailed in his place. After holding a conference with the Indians and Anthony, in which the latter renewed the permission for the bands to camp near the fort, he left Fort Lyons on November 26. Anthony meanwhile had become convinced that he was exceeding his authority. First he disarmed the savages, receiving only a few old and worn-out weapons. Then he returned these and ordered the Indians away from Fort Lyons. They moved forty miles away and encamped on Sand Creek.
The Colorado authorities had no idea of calling it a peace. Governor Evans had scolded Wynkoop for bringing the chiefs in to Denver. He had received special permission and had raised a hundred-day regiment for an Indian campaign. If he should now make peace, Washington would think he had misrepresented the situation and put the government to needless expense. "What shall I do with the third regiment, if I make peace?" he demanded of Wynkoop. They were "raised to kill Indians, and they must kill Indians."