Seminole Burning

The Seminole Burning Case was one of the most sensational of Indian Territory. There was almost a full page in the New York “Herald” of June 18, 1899, describing the crime which instigated the burnings and the trial held before Judge R. Thomas relative to the mob action. A court scene is depicted, along with pictures of Judge Thomas and  some of the principals in the case as well as the Muskogee jail. The account was given as follows:

Men who lynched Indians by burning must pay the lawful penalty-conviction of the ringleaders of Oklahoma mob which wreaked vengeance on two young Seminoles suspected of an awful crime creates a sensation in the Indian country. 

With the conviction of several members of the mob who in January, 1898, burned two Indians accused of an atrocious crime, lynch law in the Indian Territory and Oklahoma has received a blow which will go far to exterminate it. Fifty-two indictments were found against members of the mob, and only one of the five whose trials have been completed have escaped conviction, although it is hardly likely that the large proportion of convictions will be maintained, as the evidence being presented at the trials now going on is hardly direct as in the first few trials.

The crime for which Lincoln McGeisey and Palmer Sampson, young Seminoles, were burned at the stake, while a howling mob, maddened with liquor, danced around them, was a most revolting one, but whether they were guilty or not, it is not likely will ever be known. What purported their confessions, it is true, were offered in evidence, but if they were confessions, they were wrung from perhaps innocent men after the cruelest torture to which they were put. Time and again they were strung up until the life was nearly choked out of them. Their death was one of the most horrible imaginable. As is in mockery of justice, when the brush had been heaped about them, an man-a minister of the gospel-knelt beside the doomed Indians and prayed with them. As he arose from his knees, the evidence in the recent trial shows, it was he who applied the torch.

Stoically, the Indians went to their death. One of them, it is true, when the pain was unbearable, leaned forward and sucked the flames into his lungs. But the other, like the braves among his ancestors who had silently borne the worst tortures enemies could devise, stood erect until the flames ended his life, a dreadful punishment at the best made still more dreadful by the thought that the victims might have been innocent of the crime laid on them.

Crime An Atrocious One

On the farm of Thomas McGeisey, one of the leading members of the Seminole tribe, lived a young farmer, Julius Leard, a white man. On December 30, 1897, while Leard was away, his wife was attacked by two Indian boys. The children of the Leards saw their mother slain and were the only witnesses to the tragedy. They were unable to identify any of the score or more of Indian boys whom the infuriated whites seized and brought before them.

Shortly before the murder was discovered, a frenzied mob of Oklahomans, under the leadership of Nelson Jones and Sam Pryor known as “Tex” or “Texas Ranger,” scoured the country for miles, and Lincoln McGeisey was the first arrested. Leard’s child said he was not the man who killed his mother, but Jones put him in chains and held him prisoner with John Washington and George Harjo, two other Seminoles, from Sunday until the next Friday night, January 7,1898 when Palmer Sampson was brought in by Pryor and others.

The crime for which Lincoln McGeisey and Palmer Sampson, young Seminoles, were burned at the stake, while a howling mob, maddened with liquor, danced around them, was a most revolting one, but whether they were guilty or not, it is not likely will ever be known. What purported their confessions, it is true, were offered in evidence, but if they were confessions, they were wrung from perhaps innocent men after the cruelest torture to which they were put. Time and again they were strung up until the life was nearly choked out of them. Their death was one of the most horrible imaginable. As is in mockery of justice, when the brush had been heaped about them, an man-a minister of the gospel-knelt beside the doomed Indians and prayed with them. As he arose from his knees, the evidence in the recent trial shows, it was he who applied the torch.

Stoically, the Indians went to their death. One of them, it is true, when the pain was unbearable, leaned forward and sucked the flames into his lungs. But the other, like the braves among his ancestors who had silently borne the worst tortures enemies could devise, stood erect until the flames ended his life, a dreadful punishment at the best made still more dreadful by the thought that the victims might have been innocent of the crime laid on them.

Crime An Atrocious One

On the farm of Thomas McGeisey, one of the leading members of the Seminole tribe, lived a young farmer, Julius Leard, a white man. On December 30, 1897, while Leard was away, his wife was attacked by two Indian boys. The children of the Leards saw their mother slain and were the only witnesses to the tragedy. They were unable to identify any of the score or more of Indian boys whom the infuriated whites seized and brought before them.

Both Indians Tortured

During the week, McGeisey and Washington had been hanged and tortured by the mob in an effort to compel them to confess their guilt or guilty knowledge of the crime. Each of them, although most fiendishly tortured, denied any knowledge of who murdered Mrs. Laird. Sampson was taken to a lonely and secluded place and there hanged and tortured until almost dead.

Whether or not he confessed the crime will probably never be known, but his captors reported that Sampson had confessed to being the murderer of Mrs. Leard, and that he had implicated Lincoln McGeisey.

Immediately, McGeisey and Sampson were loaded with chains, and in compliance with instructions of Deputy Marshall Nelson Jones and on the orders of Pryor, they were forcibly put into a wagon and guarded by a mob of from one hundred to one hundred and twenty-five persons, driven across the line into Oklahoma, where they were chained to a tree and amid the frantic howls of the mob, burned to death.

The Territorial authorities of Oklahoma, while deprecating the lawless deed and deploring the unwarranted and unjustifiable conduct of this large number of its citizens of the Chickasaw country, found themselves thwarted in every effort to apprehend and bring to justice the guilty parties. Finally the United States Courts took the matter up and proceeded with an investigation. The Department of Justice employed Horace Speed of Guthrie, I. T. to assist the United States District Attorney and his assistants, Wilcox and Parker, in collecting the requisite testimony to be brought before the United States Grand Jury.

When the United States Court met at Vinita, I. T., in February, 1899, John R. Thomas, Judge of the United States for the Indian Territory, presided. Indictments were returned against fifty-two men. When the first case was called for trial, the defendants demanded a severance, which under the statute they had a right to do. The former Deputy Marshal, Nelson M. Jones, being the first defendant named in the indictment, was first put upon trial.

It was shown during Jones’ trial that he had recommended torturing the Indians, that he declared there was nothing too bad for the guilty men if they were caught, that he made no attempt to notify the marshal or to  overawe(?) the mob, but that he had himself directed the mob to take the suspected Indians across the line into Oklahoma, so as to be out of the jurisdiction of the Indian Territory Courts. On this evidence, Jones was convicted on May 18th.

The conviction of Andrew J. Mathis quickly followed. It was shown that Mathis had knelt and prayed with the Indians just after they were fastened to the stake by chains. It was proved that immediately after praying with them, he had set fire to the brush that was heaped around them.

Not only did the Seminole Burning Case create a sensation nationally, but it was the lead story in every newspaper in both Indian and Oklahoma Territory.

The Congress awarded each of the families of the Seminoles $5,000 or $2,500 for the prosecution  of the lynchers.

The trial continued until all 54 persons indicted were tried. As time passed some of the accused were acquitted, and others received lesser sentences.

The trial was changed to Wewoka, September 22, 1899. It was the first United States Court held in the Seminole Nation. An article in the Purcell “Register” stated that “Judge Thomas’ charge covered the usual ground but was uncommonly eloquent and patriotic even for the gifted jurists.”

The commissioner’s report of 1899 concerning indemnity granted indicated that a total of $13,078.75 was awarded, $5,000 for the burning of his son Lincoln McGeisey and $1,113.25 for property that had been destroyed. John Washington was awarded $500 for personal injury and $35 for loss of property. George Harjo was awarded $300 for personal injuries, as was William Thlloco. George Kernell received $100 for personal injuries. Seventeen others received $25 to $50 “for arrest and deprivation of liberty.”

“The Muskogee Times” of April 21, 1905 had an interesting article related to the Seminole Indian Burning Case. It stated that Nelson Jones, the Deputy United States Marshal, who was convicted for participation in connection with the lynching, sent Judge Thomas a cane made of leather inlaid with Masonic emblem.

Benjamin F. Bruner Obituary

Benjamin F. Bruner Saturday, June 10, 1939 Founder Of “Brunertown” Succumbs After Long Illness Seminole Freedman Born Eleven Years Before Emancipation With the passing of Benjamin F. Bruner, 87 year old Seminole Freedman and founder of “Brunertown”, last week, Oklahoma lost another one of her native sons whose activities during the territorial days contributed to the colorful history of the state. Bruner died May 31 at the family home in Holdenville. Funeral services were held at the Mt. Zion Baptist church in Seminole, Sunday June 4. The body was interred at Turkey Creek Cemetery. Bruner was born on the banks of the Washita River a few miles from Calvin eleven years before freedom. His mother and father were natives of the Indian Country. As a boy he attended the missions set up by white church goers for the education of Negroes and Indians. Soon after the Civil War, the Bruner family founded “Brunertown” a community that still bears the name of the founder. Shortly afterwards, Bruner then a young man married Jeanetta Shields and to this union were born 3 children. In 1880, Bruner and his wife separated and he entered Hampton Institute in Virginia, where he studied for five years. Returning to the territory in 1885 he taught school until 1890 when he married Ellen Rentie. Six children were born to this union. After his second marriage, Bruner established a home on his freedom allotment nears Earlsboro where he lived for fifteen years. During that time he served as a member of the Seminole Indian Council. In 1905 he moved to Holdenville, then an open country, where he became a “land baron” controlling 640 acres, representing an allotment to his wife and children. On this allotment, Bruner built a $9000 home which was included among Oklahoma’s land marks as long as it stood. For the sharecroppers and other Negroes in the section he built a school. He donated the land and then built the Unity Baptist church, although he had joined the Presbyterian church at Hampton, he had never been baptized, and it was one of the pleasurable moments to recall his baptism in the church he built. He served continuously on the deacon board of that church. Survivors are a wife, Ellen Bruner, Holdenville; two sons, Jack Bruner, Seminole, and Edgar Bruner, Holdenville; three daughters, Ivory Hampton, Okmulgee, Leona Corbett and Edna Stewart, Tulsa; a brother, Tom J. Bruner, Holdenville; a sister, Annie Payne, Seminole.
courtesy Charles Gibson, Benjamin Bruner’s great-grandson

This May Be The Last Time

This May Be the Last Time
2013, 90 min.
United States, Documentary
Director: Sterlin Harjo (Seminole, Creek)

In 1962, filmmaker Sterlin Harjo’s grandfather disappeared in Sasakwa, Oklahoma. As the Seminole and Creek community searched for him, its members sang their traditional ancient hymns of faith and hope. Harjo’s first feature-length documentary, This May Be the Last Time explores the disappearance of his grandfather and the origins of these songs. Interviewing community members, religious leaders and a musical historian, Harjo traces the creation of the their hymns, and their roots in Native, Scots-Irish, and African American musical traditions. The film shows that the hymns have been a source of support during times of duress, including the brutal Trail of Tears when the people were forcibly removed from their Southeast homelands to Indian Territory, well into the present. Harjo mostly interviews elders, with gentle rapport, but these scenes are also a poignant reminder that, if traditional hymn-singing is to continue, a younger generation must take it on.

For more information: www.thismaybethelasttimefilm.com

Seminole Nation, I. T.

A People Who Never Surrendered

The Seminole are classified among the Muskogean peoples, a group of remnant tribes having joined in forming this division in Florida during the border wars between the Spanish and the English colonists on the Florida-Carolina frontier in the 18th century. The name Seminole, first applied to the tribe about 1778, is from the Creek word ‘semino le’, meaning ‘runaway,’ meaning emigrants who left the main body and settled elsewhere.

In 1817, with the accusation that the Seminole were harboring runaway slaves, Andrew Jackson commanded nearly 3,000 troops to attack and burn the town of Mikasuki, starting the first Seminole War. Shortly thereafter, Spain ceded Florida to the U.S., bringing the Seminole under U.S. jurisdiction. A treaty later provided the tribe with a reserved tract east of Tampa Bay.

In 1832, the Payne’s Landing Treaty took away all Florida land claims from the tribe, and provided for removal to Indian Territory. Ratification of that treaty in 1834 allowed the Seminole three years before the removal was to take place. But under the U.S. government’s interpretation, 1835 (not 1837) ended the three year period prior to removal. The Seminole disagreed, and their bitter opposition resulted in the second, or Great Seminole War. Among the worst chapters in the history of Indian Removal, the war lasted almost seven years and cost thousands of lives. It finally ended in 1842 with the agreement that several hundred members of the tribe could remain in Florida. They stayed in the Florida swamps but never surrendered. Their descendants are the Seminole in Florida today.

No people have fought with more determination to retain their native soil, nor sacrificed so much to uphold the justice of their claims. Removal of the tribe from Florida to the Canadian Valley was the bitterest and most costly of all Indian removals.

Indian Territory

As tribal leaders surrendered during the war, their followers immigrated to the Indian Territory under military escort. The first were led by Chief Holahti Emathla in the summer of 1836. His party, who had lost many of their number by death during the two month journey, located north of the Canadian River, in present Hughes County. Their settlement was known by the name of their influential leader, Black Dirt (Fukeluste Harjo).

In June, soon after the arrival of Chief Mikanopy at Fort Gibson, council was held with the Creek of the Lower Towns. When the matter of location of the Seminole was discussed, Chief Mikanopy and the Seminole leaders refused to settle in any part of the Creek Nation other than the tract assigned them under the treaty of 1833. A treaty signed by the U.S., and delegations of the Seminole and Creek Nations in 1845 paved the way for adjustment of the trouble that had arisen between the two tribes. The Seminole could settle anywhere in the Creek country, they could have their own town government, but under the general laws of the Creek Nation.

By 1849 the Seminole settlements were located in the valley of the Deep Fork south to the Canadian in what is now the western part of Okfuskee and Hughes counties, and neighboring parts of Seminole County. The revered Chief Mikanopy, who represented the ancient Oconee, died in 1849. He was succeeded by his nephew, Jim Jumper, who was soon succeeded by John Jumper, who came to Indian Territory as a prisoner of war. He became one of the great men in Seminole history and ruled as chief until 1877, when he then resigned to devote all his time to his church. Wild Cat, the principal advisor to Chief Mikanopy during his last years, never accepted being under the rule of the Creek Nation. Although his views won out in the end under the Treaty of 1856, he made no profit from it, because six years earlier he left the Indian Territory to start a Seminole colony in Mexico.

By 1868, the refugee tribal bands were finally able to settle in the area that is known as the Seminole Nation. For the first time in 75 years they had a chance of establishing tribal solidarity. Their council house was built at Wewoka, designated capital of the Seminole Nation.

When the Seminole people made their last settlement in Indian Territory, eight tribal square grounds were established in different parts of the nation where the old ceremonials, dances and ball games were held.  Two of these square grounds were known as Tallahasutci or (Tallahasse) and Thliwathli or (Therwarthle). There is still a loose organization of the twelve Seminole “towns” or “bands” that were organized for political and geographical reasons in re-establishing the tribal government that had formerly existed in Florida.

The Century Turns

The Oklahoma Constitutional Convention divided all of Indian Territory into 40 counties, no county being exactly as the
pre-statehood Indian Nation, county or district with the  exception of the Seminole Nation. It remains as Seminole County today.
The Seminole Nation is indeed alive and vibrant with its tribal culture, language, churches, and its art.