Crowfoot: A Chief’s Journey through War and Peace
Crowfoot (Isapo-Muxika) (c.1830–1890) was a legendary chief of the Blackfoot (Siksika) Nation on the Canadian Prairies. A renowned warrior in his youth and later a wise diplomat, he guided his people through the tumultuous decades of the 19th century. Crowfoot played a pivotal role in negotiating Treaty 7 with the British Crown in 1877 and strove to maintain peace as the buffalo herds vanished and a new Dominion of Canada encroached on Blackfoot lands. His life story—from fierce battles and inter-tribal alliances to heartbreaking decisions and enduring leadership—epitomizes the struggle of Indigenous peoples during the era of colonization. What follows is a narrative of Crowfoot’s life, from his early years on the Plains to his rise as a respected leader, his crucial diplomatic efforts, and his lasting legacy.
Early Life on the Plains
Crowfoot was born around 1830 along the Belly River in southern Alberta, in what was then Rupert’s Land (the vast western territory of British North America). His parents were members of the Kainai (Blood) tribe of the Blackfoot Confederacy – his father, Istowun-eh’pata (Packs a Knife), and his mother, Axkahp-say-pi (Attacked Towards Home). As an infant he was given the nickname Astohkomi, meaning “Shot Close.” Tragedy struck early: when the boy was about five, his father was killed during a raid by Crow warriors. The following year, his mother remarried a Siksika (Northern Blackfoot) man named Akay-nehka-simi (Many Names) and moved with him to his band. The young Crowfoot followed his mother to the Siksika territory and was taken in by that community. He acquired new names during his childhood and teens – at one point “Bear Ghost,” and later he took on his late father’s name Packs-a-Knife – as he began to prove himself in the life of the Plains. Though not born into the Siksika, the boy would grow up among them and, through courage and ability, come to be fully accepted as one of their own.
Like other Niitsitapi (Blackfoot people), Crowfoot was raised in a warrior culture, and he first accompanied war parties while barely into his teens. He distinguished himself from an early age. According to one account, at around 13 he rode into an enemy Cree camp and struck the side of a teepee with his whip – counting coup in bold fashion – and even saved a wounded comrade during the skirmish. Over the years Crowfoot fought in as many as nineteen battles against rival tribes, suffering wounds on at least six occasions. In one fierce raid on the Crow Nation, he was shot and badly hurt but kept fighting bravely; as a reward, the leaders bestowed on him a great warrior’s name that had belonged to a fallen relative: Isapo-Muxika, meaning “Crow (as in the Crow tribe) Big Foot,” which English interpreters shortened to Crowfoot. This would be the name by which history remembers him. Crowfoot’s rise was remarkable – he was neither of chiefly lineage nor even Siksika by blood – yet by his twenties he had earned a reputation as a fearless warrior and a person of high standing among the Blackfoot.
Warrior and Leader in a Changing World
By the mid-1860s, as the era of the great buffalo hunts was waning, Crowfoot had grown into a leadership role. In 1865, following the death of a prominent band chief, Crowfoot was chosen to head a small band of about 20 lodges within the Siksika tribe. He was then in his mid-thirties and had gained material wealth (especially a large herd of horses) from his wartime exploits and raiding skill. Around this time, Crowfoot also demonstrated that he was more than just a warrior – he was a leader with foresight. An incident in 1865 illustrated this: a Cree war party attacked a Blackfoot camp at a place called Three Ponds, where a Catholic missionary named Father Albert Lacombe happened to be staying. Crowfoot hurried to the scene with a group of fighters. His timely arrival turned the tide; the Blackfoot counterattacked at dawn and drove off the invaders. During the fray, Father Lacombe was caught in the crossfire and wounded. Crowfoot ensured the missionary’s safety, and afterward he and Lacombe became friends. This friendship would prove significant in the years to come.
In late 1866, Crowfoot took another stand that revealed his character. A train of Hudson’s Bay Company trade carts, driven by Métis teamsters, was traveling through Blackfoot territory when a group of Blackfoot warriors, angered by past whiskey trafficking, prepared to raid it. Crowfoot intervened to stop them. Defying some of his own people’s fury, he prevented the looting of the HBC goods and the killing of the Métis, declaring that vengeance would only invite more trouble. He then personally escorted the startled traders safely back to Fort Edmonton. This courageous act of restraint earned Crowfoot great respect – it showed he could temper bravery with wisdom. The HBC officer at Rocky Mountain House, Richard Hardisty, praised Crowfoot and became a close ally. Crowfoot’s willingness to protect the Métis and work with the traders, rather than treat them all as enemies, signaled a shift in Blackfoot strategy. The world was changing: rifles and whiskey from the outside were disrupting the old ways, and Crowfoot sensed that cooperation might serve his people better than constant war.
By 1869–70, a terrible smallpox epidemic swept through the northern Plains, devastating the Blackfoot Confederacy. Many leaders perished in the outbreak. Crowfoot survived, and with his proven abilities he rose even higher in stature. He was acknowledged as one of the principal leaders of the Siksika by 1870, alongside an older chief named Old Sun. Crowfoot was now about forty, at the peak of his vigor, and his voice carried great weight. Personal tragedy struck in 1873 when Crowfoot’s eldest son, a teenager who had shown promise as a warrior, was killed during a skirmish with the Cree. Grief-stricken and angry, Crowfoot gathered a war party and raided a nearby Cree camp, killing one enemy warrior in retaliation. Shortly afterward, during a peace council between the Cree and Blackfoot, Crowfoot encountered a young Cree man who bore an uncanny resemblance to his lost son. In a moment that would become legend, Crowfoot made a profound decision: he spared the young man’s life and adopted him as his own son. This Cree man was Pītikwahanapiwīyin, better known as Poundmaker. Though Poundmaker eventually returned to live among his Cree people, he and Crowfoot forged a familial bond that transcended the old tribal enmities. This act of compassion and diplomacy showcased Crowfoot’s commitment to peace and unity when possible. It was said that thereafter, Cree and Blackfoot warriors would sometimes hesitate to fight each other if they recalled that their great chiefs were father and son.
During the early 1870s, the greatest threat to Blackfoot survival came not from their old enemies but from the whiskey trade. American traders had flooded into what is now southern Alberta and Montana, establishing notorious outposts like Fort Whoop-Up. The whiskey brought chaos and bloodshed – camp quarrels turned deadly, and whole bands were debilitated by alcohol and disease. Crowfoot saw his people being wrecked by this trade and felt powerless to stop it. In 1874, news arrived that the Canadian government was sending a new force, the North-West Mounted Police, to impose order. Crowfoot greeted this development with relief and optimism. “If left to ourselves we are gone. The whiskey brought among us by the traders is fast killing us off…,” he told the missionary John McDougall. Now, he said, the Blackfoot heard that their Great Mother was sending soldiers “for our good, we are glad.”
Crowfoot’s first meeting with the North-West Mounted Police leadership took place in October 1874 at Fort Macleod. There he met Colonel James Farquharson Macleod, the assistant commissioner. The two men established an immediate rapport. Macleod, known for his fair dealing, treated Crowfoot with courtesy and respect; in turn, Crowfoot saw in Macleod an authority figure who genuinely wished to protect the Blackfoot from lawless whiskey traders. In a notable council that December, Crowfoot and another leading chief, Red Crow of the Kainai, agreed to aid Macleod in stamping out the whiskey trade. The chiefs promised to inform the police of any illegal liquor traffic and to discourage their young warriors from attacking traders who obeyed the new rules. This act of diplomacy set the tone for Blackfoot–NWMP relations. Thanks to the mutual trust between Crowfoot and Macleod, the colonization of southern Alberta proceeded without the large-scale violence that had characterized U.S. expansion in Montana and elsewhere.
As Crowfoot’s influence grew, Canadian officials increasingly regarded him as the leader of all the Blackfoot people, not just the Siksika. He did not directly claim authority over the other tribes; he always consulted leaders like Red Crow and others. Still, his stature and his relationship with the NWMP made him an intertribal statesman by default. Crowfoot handled this role tactfully, careful to maintain unity among the Blackfoot even as he dealt with the Queen’s representatives.
Meanwhile, events to the south were drawing the Plains nations into a larger saga. In June 1876, Lakota Sioux and Cheyenne warriors under Chief Sitting Bull and others won a stunning victory over the U.S. Army at the Battle of Little Bighorn. Before the battle, a Sioux emissary had ridden to Crowfoot’s camp with a bold proposal. The messenger urged the Blackfoot to join a grand Indigenous alliance to resist white expansion. If the Sioux defeated the Americans, they would then come north and help the Blackfoot drive the NWMP out of Canada. It was an enticing offer to some, but Crowfoot refused. He responded that he had no desire to fight the Queen’s police; in fact, if the Sioux came north and made war, Crowfoot warned he would side with the NWMP against them. His steadfast loyalty to the Mounties was reported back to Ottawa, and Queen Victoria herself was said to have praised him.
Not long after, Sitting Bull’s forces defeated Custer at Little Bighorn, only to face a massive U.S. crackdown. By winter of 1876–77, Sitting Bull and hundreds of his Hunkpapa Lakota followers fled north into Canadian territory as refugees. Crowfoot remembered his promise not to harm the Sioux who sought refuge. When Sitting Bull’s bedraggled band arrived, Crowfoot met the famed chief in peace. The two smoked the pipe together at a camp near the Wood Mountain area. Sitting Bull was so moved by Crowfoot’s generosity that he named one of his own young sons Crow Foot in honor of the Blackfoot leader. For a couple of years, the Blackfoot and the Sioux coexisted without major conflict on the Canadian side of the border. However, resources were scarce, and supporting the Sioux refugees became difficult. By 1879, the Blackfoot were themselves starving, and they pressured the NWMP to compel Sitting Bull’s people to return to the U.S. Nonetheless, Crowfoot’s humane treatment of the Sioux was another example of his inclination toward diplomacy over violence.
Treaty 7 and Its Consequences
By the late 1870s, the buffalo herds were on the verge of collapse. At the same time, the Canadian government was keen to secure legal control over the vast prairies. Numbered treaties had already been signed to the north and east, and now the Blackfoot Confederacy and their neighbors in southern Alberta were to be engaged. Crowfoot himself had as early as 1875 asked the government for a treaty to clarify the Blackfoot’s rights before more white incursion occurred. In the summer of 1877 that time finally came. The Crown’s representatives, led by Lieutenant-Governor David Laird and NWMP Commissioner Macleod, called the Blackfoot, Blood, Piikani, Sarcee, and Stoney chiefs to a grand council to negotiate Treaty Number 7. Crowfoot insisted that the talks be held at Blackfoot Crossing on the Bow River, a traditional gathering place of his people. Thousands of Indigenous people camped at Blackfoot Crossing in September 1877. For four days the chiefs met with the commissioners in council, hashing over the terms of the treaty.
The negotiations were not easy. Many distrusted the notion of selling land to the Queen and believed the white men were trying to get the Blackfoot country for nothing. Crowfoot shared these concerns but kept the big picture in mind. He saw that the buffalo were dwindling and that more settlers were inevitably going to come with or without a treaty. He believed the treaty terms offered were generally favourable under the circumstances. Even so, he delayed his decision until all the head chiefs were present and in agreement. When Red Crow and the other Blood leaders arrived, Crowfoot convened an all-night council. By dawn, they indicated they would follow Crowfoot’s lead. Before committing, Crowfoot visited a respected Siksika elder, a medicine man named Pemmican, for guidance. The old man warned him that once the Blackfoot entered into the treaty, life would be very different, the buffalo would be gone, and the whites would fill the land. He predicted the Blackfoot would be tied down and lose their freedom. This prophecy disturbed Crowfoot deeply, but Pemmican told him to sign if he thought it best.
On September 21, 1877, Crowfoot announced his decision. In a dignified speech he said, “While I speak, be kind and patient. I have to speak for my people, who are numerous, and who rely upon me.” He reminded the representatives that the Blackfoot were children of the plains. He praised the North-West Mounted Police, whose arrival he credited with saving his nation. “The Police have protected us as the feathers of the bird protect it from the frosts of winter,” he said. Finally, he declared, “I am satisfied. I will sign the treaty.” The next day, September 22, 1877, Crowfoot placed his mark on the Treaty 7 document, alongside other chiefs, formally ceding some 50,000 square miles of Blackfoot territory in exchange for promises of reserves, supplies, and annuities. In recognition, officials presented Crowfoot with a medal and a chief’s uniform. Treaty 7 was the last of the numbered treaties signed in the 1870s, completing Canada’s nominal purchase of the prairies. For Crowfoot and the Blackfoot, it was the beginning of a new and uncertain chapter.
The immediate aftermath of Treaty 7 was difficult for Crowfoot’s people and tested his resolve. Almost as soon as the ink was dry, signs of trouble emerged. In 1878, just a year after the treaty, a renewed smallpox epidemic swept through some plains communities, killing Crowfoot’s co-chief and friend Old Sun and many others. Then the prairie grasslands were ravaged by widespread wildfires which destroyed forage for the remaining buffalo and the Blackfoot horse herds. Most devastating of all, the buffalo essentially vanished from southern Canada by 1879. That summer, with no bison to sustain them, hundreds of Blackfoot were facing starvation despite the treaty. In desperation, Crowfoot led his band off the reservation and south across the border into Montana to hunt the last scattered buffalo herds on American soil. This move was technically illegal, but survival came first.
For about two years, from 1879 to 1881, Crowfoot’s people stayed in the United States, roaming as they had always done, but now competing with many other hungry groups. Without the Mounties around, the frontier returned to its lawless ways: American whiskey traders brought liquor to Blackfoot camps again, fights broke out, and old intertribal warfare resumed. The brief peace with Sitting Bull’s Sioux did not hold – a band of Sioux raided Crowfoot’s camp, stealing horses and rekindling animosities. The exiled Métis leader Louis Riel even visited the Blackfoot during this time to agitate against the Canadian government, finding an audience of frustrated listeners. By early 1881, the buffalo were truly gone everywhere. Crowfoot realized that his people could not live as nomads any longer. Facing hunger and chaos in the U.S., he made the hard choice to return to Canada and attempt to live under the new treaty terms.
In the spring of 1881, Crowfoot’s band walked back over the border and settled on the land set aside for the Siksika near Blackfoot Crossing. By then, Canadian policy had shifted. The Indian Act of 1876 had given the federal Department of Indian Affairs direct control of reserve life. Crowfoot initially hoped the government would uphold the promises of Treaty 7, but he soon grew distrustful. Rations and support were inadequate and often delayed. In late 1881, the Blackfoot agency’s contractor ran out of flour and beef to distribute – meaning Crowfoot’s people went hungry even on their reserve. In 1882, despite a better harvest in some areas, rations were cut back by penny-pinching officials, leading to malnutrition. Frustrated, Crowfoot led delegations to the local Indian Agent, asking that his starving people be given the food they were due, only to be ignored or scolded by bureaucrats who accused the Blackfoot of laziness. Tensions rose as Crowfoot’s young men grew angry at the broken promises.
A flashpoint came in the winter of 1882. One of Crowfoot’s sub-chiefs, Bull Elk, was accused of scavenging a government cow head from the rationing house – essentially taking leftover meat he believed he was entitled to. The Indian Agent and NWMP attempted to arrest him for theft. Outraged, Crowfoot intervened. He physically blocked the police from hauling Bull Elk away and declared that he would not hand him over unless the man received a fair hearing. Backed by Blackfoot warriors, his stance forced the Mounties to back down temporarily. When Bull Elk was tried before a magistrate, he was found not guilty. But the police, prodded by the Indian Agent, later arrested him again on a minor pretext, throwing the Blackfoot camp into turmoil. Furious young warriors rushed to Crowfoot’s lodge, demanding retaliation. Crowfoot was furious too – it was the first time since Treaty 7 that he had been pushed to the brink of war.
Crowfoot donned war paint and armed himself, preparing to confront the NWMP detachment at the agency. Had he given the word, dozens of Blackfoot fighters would have attacked. At the final instant, Crowfoot’s cooler judgment prevailed. He knew that killing a few police and agents would bring a massive military response from Canada. As he later said, such revenge would be “only a temporary satisfaction that would soon turn to despair.” Swallowing his anger, Crowfoot called off the attack and told his warriors to go home. He confronted Superintendent Leif Crozier of the NWMP and bitterly denounced the officials for breaking their word and mistreating his tribe. “The Police have not treated us well lately,” he warned, “and my people’s patience is nearly at an end.” Though the atmosphere was tense, Crowfoot kept the peace. Authorities, alarmed by the near-uprising, moved quickly to address grievances. Indian Commissioner Edgar Dewdney removed the unpopular Indian Agent and replaced him with Cecil Denny, an NWMP officer whom Crowfoot respected. For a time food supplies improved, but the damage to trust was done. Crowfoot emerged shaken and more disillusioned than ever with the government’s word.
By 1884, the situation across the prairies was volatile. The Cree to the north were also enduring hunger and mistreatment. Discontent among them had given rise to militant resistance movements. In 1885, these tensions exploded into the North-West Rebellion led by Louis Riel and joined by Cree chiefs Big Bear and Poundmaker. Both sides looked to Crowfoot as a potentially decisive force. The rebels hoped the Blackfoot would join them; the government desperately needed the Blackfoot to stay neutral or loyal. Crowfoot understood the gravity of the moment. On one side were his kin and friends – Poundmaker, his adopted son, was a leading figure in the resistance, and Big Bear had long courted his alliance. Crowfoot shared many of their frustrations. On the other side, however, he had seen Canada’s overwhelming strength during an earlier trip east. He knew rebellion would likely be suicidal. Furthermore, the Blood and Piikani had no desire to fight alongside their old enemies, the Cree. Crowfoot found himself isolated in his sympathy for Poundmaker.
In the spring of 1885, Crowfoot tried to delay and remain non-committal. Cree messengers came urging action, but he told them he needed time to consult his people. At the same time, he refrained from helping the NWMP. As battles flared in the Saskatchewan territory, Blackfoot lands remained quiet but tense. Some settlers feared Crowfoot was waiting to attack, and Governor General Lord Lansdowne sent Father Lacombe as an envoy. The missionary found Crowfoot camped near the Bow River and asked him directly. Crowfoot responded with assurance: despite pleas from the rebels, he had no intention of rising. “We do not want war,” he said, “and we shall not go.” He explained that, much as he sympathized with Poundmaker’s plight, he believed the Cree and Métis cause was doomed and that joining it would only destroy the Blackfoot as well. His stance was telegraphed to Ottawa, and Queen Victoria herself conveyed thanks for his loyalty and wisdom.
When the North-West Rebellion collapsed in late spring 1885, Crowfoot mourned quietly. He had stayed true to his promise to keep the peace. Not a single Blackfoot warrior joined the fighting. The Blackfoot reserve even became a haven for non-combatants. Crowfoot gave sanctuary to Cree women, children, and elders fleeing reprisals. In particular, he worried about Poundmaker’s fate. Poundmaker surrendered in May and was tried for treason. Crowfoot wrote a personal letter to the authorities in Regina, petitioning for his adopted son’s release. His plea was declined, and Poundmaker was sentenced to three years in prison. He was released after one year due to ill health. Immediately he traveled to Crowfoot’s reserve to reunite with his “father.” The reunion was bittersweet. In July 1886, as they visited, Poundmaker suddenly collapsed and died in Crowfoot’s camp. The Blackfoot say Crowfoot wept openly at the loss. He had outlived yet another son.
Later Years and Legacy
In 1886, Crowfoot traveled east with his foster brother Three Bulls. In Montreal and Quebec City he was greeted almost like visiting royalty. Newspapers described the tall, stately Blackfoot chief in romantic terms, noting his grave demeanor and thoughtful expression. In Ottawa, he met Prime Minister Sir John A. Macdonald and symbolically adopted him as a brother, sealing their alliance in a traditional way. Yet the journey left Crowfoot with mixed feelings: he appreciated the respect shown to him but knew his people at home languished in poverty.
By the late 1880s, Crowfoot had lost many of his closest family members to tuberculosis and hardship. Of his children, only four survived into adulthood. Observers noted that he frequently cut his hair short, the Blackfoot sign of mourning, because there was seemingly always a death in his lodge. His health declined; the old bullet lodged near his spine caused pain, and tuberculosis weakened him further. In March 1890, he gathered his people one last time and urged them to maintain peace and care for the widows and orphans. On April 25, 1890, Crowfoot died in his teepee at Blackfoot Crossing. According to tradition, his wives took down the lodge around him so that he died under the open sky, on the land he loved. Eight hundred Blackfoot mourners gathered for his funeral, along with NWMP officers in red serge and Canadian dignitaries. He was buried on a hill overlooking the Bow River valley.
Crowfoot’s legacy has only grown with time. He was the leader who guided his people through the devastating transition from free buffalo hunters to confined reservation dwellers. He earned the title Manistokos, meaning Father of his People, for his compassion and willingness to provide for those in need. He was a warrior, orator, and peacemaker who consistently put his nation’s well-being above personal glory. Some have argued that by choosing diplomacy, Crowfoot spared the Blackfoot from the catastrophic wars and reprisals that befell other nations. On the other hand, the treaty also led to great suffering. Crowfoot grew bitter in his final years as he saw the promises of the treaty go unfulfilled. The very fate that the medicine man Pemmican had warned of – being tied down and having graves scattered across the land – had come true.
Shortly before his death, reflecting on life’s fragility, Crowfoot reportedly said: “What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.” His words echo across the years – a voice of wisdom, humility, and deep understanding. Crowfoot’s journey through war and peace remains a testimony to the resilience of the human spirit and the complex legacy of colonization on the Indigenous peoples of North America.