Come Home; It's Time for Your Execution!

      Here's a scenario: you've committed murder, and have been sentenced to death. Alas! The facilities for your execution are not yet in place, so you are released on parole. We are talking about the original meaning of the term: you give your word (parole in French) that you will return on the required date - sort like bail without the money - and off you go. You leave the country and become a sporting celebrity. Then, after three years, you receive the summons: it is time for you to return home for your execution. What do you do?

     Well, if you were a Choctaw, there is no issue to discuss. You gave your word. Your word is your bond. And death is preferable to dishonour.

     The Choctaws, as my American readers ought to know, were one of the Five Civilised Tribes, the others being the Cherokees, Chickasaws, Creeks, and Seminoles. These were the Indians who decided that, if you can't beat 'em, you should join 'em. So they adopted civilised paleface ways, like reading and writing, going to church (sometimes), ploughing the fields, and owning black slaves. The Choctaws fought as allies of the rebels against the Crown during the War of Independence. They supported the Americans in the War of 1812. They served under General Andrew Jackson in his war against the civilised Creeks. So when he became President, he rewarded them by deporting them, en masse to Oklahoma, in forced marches in which a quarter of them perished. There, on the treeless prairie, these children of the woodland set up a republican style government. The Choctaw nation lasted from 1834 to 1906, but at least for that brief interval there was a glorious experiment in Indian autonomy, with many of the citizens acting as landlords on vast ranches where the increasing number of white settlers essentially serving as peons. I intend to describe this in detail in another essay, but right now the issue is Choctaw jurisprudence.

     According to tradition older than written records, if a Choctaw took another Choctaw's life, his own was forfeited, but he was given several months, usually three, to return to his family, plant his crops or harvest them, and otherwise settle his affairs. If he did not return for the execution, another family member would die in his place - an obvious form of moral persuasion. Thus, when the Choctaw law was codified, a stay of execution was written into the legislation. Such executions used to take place two or three times a year, and some of them became famous.

    Consider, for example, Albert Red Bird, a quarter caste Choctaw graduate of the Indian College at Carlyle, Pennsylvania. About 1884 the Union Agency at Muskogee asked the Choctaw chief for an educated tribesman to help with the census rolls, and Albert Red Bird was sent. He turned out to be so good that the Indian agent offered him a permanent position, which he accepted, but on the proviso that he cold resign at very short notice. Very quickly the handsome young Indian had become the toast of the nearby Fort Gibson, and had won the heart of a white girl. Marriage was widely predicted. Early that August he arrived at the grand ball with his sweetheart, and made merry with the dancers among the high society. But just before dawn, as the the ball was breaking up, he called out in a loud voice to make an announcement.

     He thanked them for their kindness, but apologized for deceiving them. The previous year, he told them, he had killed a man when crazed by drink, and now he must return home to face the consequences. The audience was dumbfounded. Some tried to discourage him. Some wanted to follow him. His girlfriend, it is said, never married.

     The reference to being crazed by drink appeared in more than one account; it seems to be an Indian weakness. Otherwise, the murderers seem to have been ordinary people who, at one point, gave in to a terrible impulse. It reminds me of what a visitor to Devil's Island had been told: that in that notorious penal colony, the murderers looked down on the thieves. Yes, murder might have been a worse crime, but it was the only one they committed. It had mostly been a crime of passion; that was why they were sent to the island rather than the guillotine. On the other hand, the thieves were habitual criminals; that is why they were sent to the island rather than a French prison.

      Which brings us to an unsavoury character with the appropriate name of Going Snake ie departing snake, who had not only killed a friend, but robbed him. The viciousness of the crime meant that a great crowd turned up for his projected execution by firing squad on 15 July 1891, even organizing a big feast. They waited in vain. He didn't arrive. True to his name, the dirty snake had absconded! An even greater crowd gathered the following day, upon which an elderly couple, the parents of the condemned, arrived. The old Indian's voice quavered as he expressed his dishonour at his son's behaviour, and how Choctaw tradition demanded that they pay the price in his stead. The crowd cheered. The old man then shot his wife in front of the multitude, before turning the gun on himself. That  was the only record of a Choctaw murderer not showing up for the appointment.

       I regret that the details I have been able to obtain about the last, and most famous, execution are rather confused. It took place on 13 July 1899, and the culprit (left) was named Walla Tonka, which translates as something like "young man departing",  and was anglicised as William Goings. He had already worked in the United States as a prominent baseball player, and there it was that he was introduced to strong drink. It was a familiar story, and a fatal one.

      The story is that, while on holiday back home in 1896, he and his cousin got roaring drunk and in  a fighting mood. Somehow or other, his uncle, Sampson Goings, also drunk, got involved. Either he remonstrated with him, or they argued over a woman, but in any case, they killed him, and then went on to beat to death an old woman they thought was practising witchcraft against them. 

     I have a strong feeling that many of the written accounts mix up several different cases. Thus, a recent document states that, the day before the projected execution, he and his confederate escaped from prison, and that while his partner died of pneumonia shortly afterwards, Walla Tonka joined a gang of horse thieves until recaptured in 1899. However, journalists writing within a year of his death tell it differently. He left Choctaw territory for the States, where he was immediately engaged at a high salary to play baseball in Kansas. From there he travelled the country as a celebrity sportsman, the knowledge of his impending fate providing an additional attraction to the crowds. Receiving a number of stays of execution, he even joined the Wild West Show. One story is that he even went to England with them, but that might a confusion with another case. 

      Eventually, in April 1899, he reported to the sheriff's office and announced that it was about time they got on with the business. A date was set. However, by that time the Curtis Act had stripped Choctaw courts of the right to carry out capital punishment. The issue was brought before Judge W. H. Clayton, who immediately issued a write of habeas corpus. An Indian friend rode all night to the town where Walla Tonka was held, and brought him back to the judge. On close examination of the case, however, Judge Clayton decided that he had been rightly condemned for murder before the Curtis Act had come into effect, so back he went to face his death.

     Needless to say, he faced it with the courage expected of his race. In front of a huge crowd, he knelt or sat on the ground while the sheriff either marked his bare chest with a piece of charcoal, or pinned a piece of paper on his shirt over his heart. The sheriff then knelt down, aimed at his chest with his Winchester, and pulled the trigger. Even then, the shot was not immediately fatal. He called for water, and was given some to drink from a bucket. Then the sheriff poured more water into his mouth until he drowned.

      That was the last execution under Choctaw law. After that, capital punishment was left to paleface law, which did not trust murderers to report voluntarily to be executed. If any of my readers are Native Americans, they may wish to comment on how this reflects on paleface society.

      I shall leave you with one final observation. I note that Americans, as is their wont, are again getting their knickers in a knot over a trivial matter ie the use of names such as Indians, Braves, and Redskins for sports teams. Well, sportsmen never call their teams the Creampuffs or the Pansies. They choose names suggestive of vigour, toughness, and courage. And whatever negative stereotypes may have been inflicted on the red men - some of them, not doubt, deserved - nobody ever called them weaklings or cowards.  

References: William R. Draper (Feb. 1900), 'How the Choctaws keep their word', The Wide World Magazine vol. 4:501-506 (This author falsely believed that Walla Tonka and William Going were different persons.)

'The Modern Day. Choctaw Lighthorsemen' Choctaw Nation (PDF)

'William "Walla Tonaka" Goings'  Find a Grave

'The tragic death of Walla Tonka' The Hartford Herald, 9 August 1899, page 1