USA > Minnesota > Brown County > History of Brown County, Minnesota: Its People, Industries and Institutions (Volume 1) > Part 17
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SIEGE OF THE FORT.
[By Charles S. Brant, author of the well-known work entitled "History of the Minnesota Valley," from which is taken the following, perhaps the most authentic account of this siege.]
Foiled on the attack of New Ulm by the timely arrival of reinforcements under Colonel Flandrau, the Indians turned their attention toward Ft. Ridgely, eighteen miles northwest. On Wednesday, at about one o'clock in the aft- ernoon, August 20, the attack commenced. It was not un- expected, however, as some authors put it, for the garrison had pickets out for several days and at no time within ten days could Indians have "surprised" the soldiers there.
The fort is situated on the edge of the prairie about a half mile from the Minnesota river, a timbered bottom in- tervening and a wooded ravine running up out of the bot- tom around two sides of the fort within about twenty rods
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of the buildings, affording shelter for an enemy on three sides.
The first knowledge the garrison had of the presence of the foe was given by a volley from the ravine which drove in the pickets. The men were instantly formed by order of Lieutenant Sheehan in line of battle on the parade ground inside the works. Two men, Mark M. Grear, of Company C, and William Goode, of Company B, fell at the first fire of the concealed foe after the line of battle was formed-the former was instantly killed, the latter badly wounded, both being shot in the head. Robert Baker, a citizen who had escaped from the massacre at the Lower Agency, was shot through the head and instantly killed while standing at a window in the barracks at about the same time. The men soon broke for shelter and from behind boxes, from win- dows, from the shelter of the buildings and from every spot where concealment was possible, watched their opportuni- ties, wasted no ammunition, but poured their shot with deadly effect upon the wily and savage foe, whenever he suffered himself to be seen.
The forces in the fort at this time were the remnant of Company B, Fifth Regiment, Lieutenant Culver, fifty-one men; about fifty men of Company C, same regiment, Lieu- tenant Sheehan; the Renville Rangers, Lieutenant Gorman, numbering fifty men-all under command of Lieutenant Sheehan. There were also about twenty-five armed citizens.
Sergt. John Jones, of the regular army, a brave and skilful man, was stationed at this fort as post sergeant, in charge of the ordnance, and took immediate command of the artillery, of which there were in the fort six pieces. Three only, however, were used-two six-pounder howitzers
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and one twenty-four pounder field-piece. A sufficient num- ber of men had been detailed to work these guns and at the instant of the first alarm, were promptly at their post. One of the guns was placed in charge of a citizen named J. C. Whipple, an old artillerist, who had seen service in the Mexican War and in the United States navy, and had made his escape from the massacre at the Lower Agency; and one in charge of Sergeant McGrew, of Company C. The other in charge of Sergeant Jones in person. In this as- sault there were probably not less than five hundred war- riors led by their renowned chief, Little Crow.
So sudden had been the outbreak and so weak was the garrison that there had been no time to construct any de- fense work whatever, or to remove or destroy the wooden structures and hay stacks in which the enemy could take position and shelter. The magazines were situated some twenty rods outside the main works on the open prairie. Men were at once detailed to take the ammunition into the fort. Theirs was the post of danger-but they passed through the leaden storm unscathed.
In the rear of the barracks was a ravine up which the St. Peter road passed. The enemy had possession of this ravine and road, while others were posted in the buildings at the windows and in sheltered portions in the sheds in the rear of the office quarters. Here they fought from three o'clock until dark, the artillery all the while shelling the ravine at short range and the rifles and muskets of the men dropping the yelling demons like autumn leaves. In the meantime the Indians had got into some of the old out- buildings and had crawled up behind the hay stacks from which they poured a heavy volley into the fort. A few
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well-directed shells from the howitzers set them on fire and when night rolled over the scene the lurid light of the burn- ing buildings shot up with a frightful glare and served the purpose of revealing to the weary sentinel the lurking foe should he again appear.
The Indians retired with the closing day and were soon in large numbers on their ponies, making their way rapidly toward the agency. The great danger feared by all was that under cover of darkness the savages might creep up to the buildings and with fire-arrows ignite the dry roofs of the wooden structures. But about midnight the heavens opened and the earth was deluged with rain, effectually pre- venting the consummation of such a design, if it was in- tended. As the first great drops fell upon the upturned faces, there was a glad shout of "Rain, rain, thank God." Stout-hearted, strong-armed men breathed free again; and the weary, frightened women and children slept once more in comparative safety.
In this engagement there were two men killed and nine wounded and the government mules were stampeded by the Indians. Jack Frazir, an old resident of the Indian coun- try, volunteered as bearer of dispatches to Governor Ram- sey, and availing himself of the darkness and the furious storm, made his way safely out of the fort and reached St. Peter, where he met Colonel Sibley and his command on their way to the relief of the fort.
Rain continued to fall until nearly night Thursday when it ceased and the stars looked down upon the weary, but still wakeful and vigilant watchers in Ft. Ridgely. On that night a large quantity of oats in sacks, stored in the
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granary, near the stables, and a quantity of cord-wood piled near the fort, were disposed about the works in such a man- ner as to afford protection for the men in case of another attack. The roof of the commissary building was covered with earth, as a protection against fire-arrows. The water in the fort had given out, and as there was neither well nor cistern in the works, the garrison were dependent upon a spring, some sixty rods distant in the ravine, for a supply of that indispensable element. The only recourse was now to dig for water, which they did at another, less-exposed point, and by noon had a supply sufficient for two or three days, secured inside the fort.
THE ATTACK RENEWED.
In the meantime the small arms ammunition having be- come nearly exhausted in the battle of Wednesday, the balls were removed from some of the spherical case-shots, and a party of men and women made them into cartridges, which were greatly needed. Small parties of the Indians had been seen about the fort, out of range, during Thurs- day and Friday forenoons, watching the fort to report if reinforcements had reached it.
At about one o'clock in the afternoon Friday, the 22nd, they appeared again in force, their numbers greatly aug- mented, and commenced a furious and most determined as- sault. They came apparently from the Lower Agency, pass- ing down the Minnesota bottoms, and around into the ravine surrounding the fort. As they passed by the beautiful resi- dence of R. H. Randall, post sutler, they applied the torch and it was soon wrapped in flames. On came the painted
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savages yelling like demons let loose from the bottomless pit; but the brave men in that sore-pressed garrison, know- ing full well that to be taken alive was certain death to themselves and all within the fort, each man was promptly at his post.
The main attack was directed against that side of the works next to the river, the buildings here being frame structures, and the most vulnerable part of the fort. This side was covered by the stables, granary and one of the old buildings, besides the sutler's store on the west side. Made bold by their augmented numbers and the non-arrival of reinforcements to the garrison, the Indians pressed on, seemingly determined to rush at once into the works, but were met, as they reached the end of the timber and swept round up the ravine, with such a deadly volley of mus- ketry poured upon them from behind barracks and the win- dows of the quarters, and of grape and canister and shell from the guns of the heroic Jones, Whipple and McGrew, that they beat a hasty retreat to the friendly shelter of the bottom, out of musket range. But the shells continued to scream wildly through the air, and burst around and among them. They soon rallied and took possession of the stable and other outbuildings on the south side of the fort, from which they poured terrific volleys upon the frail side of the wooden buildings, the bullets actually passing through their sides, and through the partitions inside of them. Here Joseph Vanosse, a citizen, was shot through the body by a ball which came through the side of the building. They were soon driven from the buildings by the artillery, which shelled them out, setting the buildings on fire. The scene now became grand and terrific. The flames and smoke of
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the burning buildings, the wild demoniac yells of the savage besiegers, the roaring of cannon, the screaming of the shells as they hurled through the air, the sharp crack of the rifle, and the unceasing rattle of musketry, presented an exhibi- tion never to be forgotten by those who witnessed it.
The Indians retired hastily from the burning build- ings, the men in the fort sending a shower of bullets among them as they disappeared over the bluffs toward the bot- toms. With wild yells they now circled round into the ra- vine, and from the tall grass, lying on their faces, and from the shelter of the timber, continued the battle till night, their leader, Little Crow, vainly ordering them to charge on the guns. They formed once for that purpose, about sun- down, but a shell and round of canister sent into their midst closed the contest, when, with an unearthly yell of rage and disappointment, they left. These shots, as was afterward learned, killed and wounded seventeen of their number. Jones continued to shell the ravine and timber round the fort until after dark when the firing ceased, and then, as had been done on the night before, since the investment of the fort, the men all went to their several posts to wait and watch for the coming of the wily foe. The night waned slowly; but they must not sleep; their foe is sleepless, and that wide area of dry shingled roof must be closely scanned, and the approaches be vigilantly guarded, by which he may, under cover of darkness, creep upon them unawares.
Morning broke at last, the sun rose up in a clear, cloud- less sky, but the foe came not. The day passed away, and no attack; the night again, then another day; and yet other days and nights of weary, sleepless watching but neither friend or foe approached the fort until about daylight on
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De. Alfred Mueller.
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Wednesday morning, the 27th, when the cry was heard from the lookout on the roof, "There are horsemen coming on the St. Peter road across the ravine." Are they friends or foes, was the question on the tongues of all. By their cautious movements they were evidently reconnoitering and it was vet too dark for those in the fort to be able to tell at that distance friend from foe. But as daylight advanced, one hundred and fifty mounted men were seen dashing through the ravine; and amid the wild hurrahs of the assembled garrison, Col. Samuel McPhail at the head of two companies of citizen cavalry, rode into the fort. In command of a company of these men were Anson Northrup, from Minne- apolis, an old frontiersman, and R. H, Chittendon, of the First Wisconsin Cavalry. This force had ridden all night, having left St. Peter, forty-five miles distant, at six o'clock the night before. From them the garrison learned that heavy reinforcements were on their way to their relief un- der Col. (later brigadier-general) H. H. Sibley. The worn out and exhausted garrison could now sleep with a feeling of security. The number of killed and wounded of the en- emy is not known but must have been considerable, as at the close of the battle they were seen carrying away their dead and wounded. Our own fallen heroes were buried on the edge of the prairie near the fort and the injuries of the wounded men were carefully attended to by the skilful and excellent post surgeon, Dr. Alfred Mueller.
TRIBUTE TO MRS. ELIZA MUELLER.
We close our account of the protracted siege by a slight tribute on behalf of the sick and wounded in that garrison
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to one whose name will ever be mentioned by them with love and respect. The hospitals of Sebastopol had their Flor- ence Nightingale and over every blood-stained field of the South in our own struggle for national life, hovered the angels of mercy, cheering and soothing the sick and wounded, smoothing the pillows and closing the eyes of our fallen braves. And when in after years the brave men who fell sorely wounded in the battles of Ft. Ridgely, Birch Coulie and Wood Lake, fighting against the savage hordes who overran the borders of our beautiful state in August and September, 1862, carrying the flaming torch, the gleam- ing tomahawk and bloody scalping knife to hundreds of peaceful homes, shall tell their children and children's chil- dren the story of the "dark and bloody ground," of Minne- sota and shall exhibit to them the scars those wounds have left, they will tell with moistened cheek and swelling hearts of the noble, womanly deeds of Mrs. Eliza Mueller, the "Florence Nightingale" of Ft. Ridgely.
SERGEANT JOHN JONES.
We feel that the truth of history will not be fully vin- dicated should we fail to bestow upon a brave and gallant officer that need of praise so justly due him. The only of- ficer of experience left in the fort by the death of its brave commandant was Sergeant John Jones, of the regular army artillery; and it is but just to that gallant officer that we should say but for his cool courage and discretion, Ft. Ridgely would in the first day's battle have become a funeral pyre for all within its walls. And it gives us more than ordinary pleasure to record the fact that the services he
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there rendered in defense of the frontier were fully recog- nized and rewarded with a commission of captain of the Second Minnesota Battery.
[O. G. Wall, who was then in his teens, and who partici- pated in the expeditions against the Indians as a member of Captain Marsh's company, and saw service with General Sibley in 1863, kept a daily diary of all passing events of importance during all those trying days on the frontier. Twenty years later, having entirely forgotten that upon leaving for the far West to engage in business he gave his mother his diary, while back home on a visit his mother handed him the book and he utilized those previous entries in the publication known as "Recollections of the Sioux Massacre." From this work are taken several extracts.]
At about ten o'clock in the forenoon, August 18, 1862, came like lightning flash from a clear sky, the startling news of the horrible massacre begun three hours previously at the Redwood Agency. Down from the northwest, near- ing the fort, was seen the approach of people in great haste. The attention of the garrison was generally attracted to the unusual spectacle, but without once suspecting the cause of it. J. C. Dickinson was in advance and was the first to enter the fort. He had scarcely told in a few words of the uprising when a team immediately followed him and en- tered under lash with a load of refugees, among them a wounded man, who had made his escape after being wounded at the Lower Agency. That savage wrath had burst like a flame was at first inconceivable, but the testi- mony that the scalping-knife had flashed from its sheath
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to follow the deadly work of the gun was all too evident to be questioned. The soldiers gathered around the refugees, whose tales were told in a shocking manner and in dramatic detail. Captain Marsh, commander of Ft. Ridgely, did not deliberate, but ordered the assembling of the company at once. Charles M. Culver, the drummer-boy, for the first time sounded with meaning emphasis the long-roll. Thrilled with the story of the massacre and the clamor of the drum, men were quickly in line to receive orders. With a haste that seemed imperative a detail of forty-six men was made at once to proceed to the scene of carnage, under the belief that the situation was yet controllable, and in any event demanded the presence of soldiery at the Lower Agency. It was simply a matter of moments between the receipt of the news and the departure of Captain Marsh and his detail for the scene of the bloody work thirteen miles away.
At the command "Forward," the men moved out with elastic step, the very embodiment of splendid soldiery. Teams were hastily hitched up, and carrying light supplies of ammunition and provisions, followed and soon overtook the command. Captain Marsh and Interpreter Quinn were on mule-back, and the men now climbed into the wagons that the better time might be made in reaching the agency.
Ft. Ridgely was now practically deserted, Lieut. T. P. Gere remaining in command of the post with less than thirty men.
CAPTAIN MARSH PLANS TO RESTORE ORDER.
Fugitives who came in over the Agency road, and had met Captain Marsh and his men, pronounced the expedition
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to the ferry one destined to end in the greatest disaster. This was neither reassuring nor comforting to the remnant of the company left in the fort, and was rendered less so because the convictions expressed were those of men of keen discernment, who were well informed on the deplor- able situation. In fact, these fugitives, when meeting Cap- tain Marsh, cautioned him of his danger, and advised him if he would not turn back, at least not to enter the valley of the Minnesota river, which he must do three miles from the Lower Agency if he persisted in reaching the ferry.
Before Captain Marsh had covered half the distance to the agency his command had witnessed buildings aflame and corpses by the wayside to warn him of the danger that threatened him, and the whole frontier as well. There was no time to deliberate. To march into the jaws of death, as seemed imminent, might make the fall of Ft. Ridgely a cer- tainty, and thus expose the frontier settlement to annihila- tion. On the other hand, if a brave and almost superhuman effort could yet stay the savage hand dripping with blood, incalculable loss of life could be prevented. Captain Marsh knew his men. He had no doubt of their splendid courage. The fleeing refugees warned them that to enter the valley was almost certain death, but all this was met with a stoical determination to do faithfully and bravely the duty pointed out to them by their commander, who believed the great good possible to be accomplished was worth the hazard the undertaking involved.
While this march was being made on the quiet summer day, hearts were beating anxiously at the fort. As the men passed out to the northwestward in the forenoon, they watched for a mile or so, and disappeared, with a "bon
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voyage," below the intervening prairie ridge, entering, as it proved, on the threshold of eternity. Refugees came in in increasing numbers, and pointed to the distant columns of smoke as those of burning homes. Some of these people were wounded and all were fatigued and terror-stricken.
There were none so dull as not to realize that the situa- tion was profoundly critical. Marsh and his little detail were well within the environment of the savages. That they would stay the bloody hand, or even extricate themselves from their perilous predicament, became hourly more doubtful. There was no reserve force to go to their assis- tance. The fort itself and all in it must fall if vigorously attacked. This was self-evident.
When within six miles of the agency Captain Marsh, seeing evidences of danger on every hand, ordered his men to abandon the wagons and resume their former order of march. The pace of the men was quickened, and believing the Lower Agency the center of the disturbance, and that once their cool, wise heads could be conferred with and a stop put to the hellish work, the command hurried with a zeal worthy of a better fate than awaited the brave detach- ment. Reaching the top of Faribault hill, three miles from the agency, a view of the Minnesota valley presented itself. Sickening scenes had been witnessed by the wayside, and there was little else than desolation to be seen from the hill- top. Only men of the rarest courage and of the most perfect discipline would have entered that valley of death in the face of all that was known.
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AMBUSH PLANNED BY THE INDIANS.
At the fort the horrible condition of the Lower Agency had now been fully detailed, striking terror to every heart and sealing the doom of Marsh and his men. Among the refugees who arrived in the afternoon from the agency was Rev. J. D. Hinman, an Episcopal missionary, stationed at Redwood. He had started between six and seven o'clock that morning from the agency to make a trip to Faribault, when unusual signs for that hour in the day among the Indians attracted his attention. The Indians were almost naked, and carried their guns. Their numbers increased, and the peole began to wonder at their unusual appearance, which some interpreted to mean that a raid was to be made on some Chippewa band known to have invaded the neigh- borhood. The Indians squatted on the steps of various buildings, their demeanor betraying no sign of hostility.
Now a signal gun broke the silence in the upper part of town. Even this was doubted to be a sign of hostility until other shooting up the street and hasty fleeing of the people toward the bluffs overlooking the river became alarming. White Dog ran past Mr. Hinman at this junc- ture, and to an inquiring word replied that "awful work had been started." He was no doubt himself taken by surprise, though later in the day his cunning and his treachery played an important part in the betrayal of Marsh. Little Crow also passed Hinman about this time, but with a scowl declined to answer an inquiry of the mis- sionary, though they knew each other well, and the chief now sullen, had always been polite and friendly. The firing had now become a fusilade, and the people were being shot down
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on every hand. The traders were the first objects of hatred to fall, riddled with bullets. As the bloody work progressed the savages grew wild and furious, their hideous yells, the crash of their guns, work of the torch, the shrieks of their helpless victims, begging vainly for mercy, creating a scene horrifying in the extreme. Reverend Hinman fled before the spreading tide of death and had reached the river, fortunately found a skiff with which he hastily crossed, making good his escape to Ft. Ridgely.
Private James Dunn and William B. Hutchinson were the first to arrive at the fort with the story of the frightful disaster at the ferry, they having been dispatched by Sergt. John F. Bishop, who was in command of the only known remnant of Company B to escape the merciless slaughter at the ferry. The little party were carrying a badly wounded comrade, while Bishop himself was wounded. Their progress being thus impeded, Bishop dispatched Dunn and Hutchinson to apprise the garrison of the dis- aster, himself and party reaching the fort at ten o'clock at night.
THE STRUGGLE AT THE FERRY.
Captain Marsh's slender detachment descended the Minnesota valley at Faribault hill at about mid-day and marched across the bottom for three miles over a road not unfavorable to a treacherous foe, grass of a rank growth affording them shelter on either hand. When within a mile or so of the ferry (as Privates Dunn and Hutchinson relate the story), the captain halted his men for a moment's needed rest. Resuming his march the men were moved in open order by single file to minimize the danger from ex-
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posure, and in this order continued to the ferry-house, situated on the east side of the road, ten or twelve rods north from the ferry.
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