USA > Minnesota > Redwood County > The history of Redwood County, Minnesota, Volume I > Part 17
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55 | Part 56 | Part 57 | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60 | Part 61 | Part 62 | Part 63 | Part 64 | Part 65 | Part 66 | Part 67 | Part 68 | Part 69
Mattie Williams and Mary Schwandt were afterwards re- stored to their friends by General Sibley's expedition, at Camp Release. We say, restored to their friends; this was hardly true of Mary Schwandt, who, when release came, found alive, of all her father's family, only one, a little brother; and he had wit- nessed the fiendish slaughter of all the rest, accompanied by cir- cumstances of infernal barbarity, without a parallel in the his- tory of savage brutality.
On Sunday, Aug. 17, George H. Gleason, Government store- keeper at the Lower agency, accompanied by the family of Agent Galbraith, to Yellow Medicine, and on Monday afternoon, ignor- ant of the terrible tragedy enacted below, started to return. He had with him the wife and two children of Dr. J. S. Wakefield, physician to the Upper Sioux. When about two miles above the mouth of the Redwood, they met two armed Indians on the road. Gleason greeted them with the usual salutation of "Ho!" accom- panied with the inquiry, in Sioux, as he passed, "Where are you going?" They returned the salutation, but Gleason had gone but a very short distance, when the sharp crack of a gun behind him bore to his ear the first intimation of the death in store for him. The bullet passed through his body and he fell to the ground. At the same moment Chaska, the Indian who had not fired, sprang into the wagon, by the side of Mrs. Wakefield, and driving a short distance, returned. Poor Gleason was lying upon the ground, still alive, writhing in mortal agony, when the sav- age monster completed his hellish work, by placing his gun at his breast, and shooting him again. Such was the sad end of the life of George Gleason ; gay, jocund, genial and generous, he was the life of every circle. His pleasant face was seen, and his mellow voice was heard in song, at almost every social gathering on that rude frontier. He had a smile and pleasant word for all; and yet he fell, in his manly strength, by the hands of these bloody monsters, whom he had never wronged in word or deed. Some weeks afterward, his mutilated remains were found by the troops under Colonel Sibley, and buried where he fell. They were subsequently removed by his friends to Shakopee, where they received the rites of Christian sepulture.
Mrs. Wakefield and children were held as prisoners, and were reclaimed with the other captives at Camp Release.
142
HISTORY OF REDWOOD COUNTY
In the Southern Part of the County. John F. and Daniel Burns, who were living near Walnut Grove, escaped the massa- cre by flight.
Charles Zierke, "Dutch Charlie," who lived in what is now Charlestown, heard the news of the uprising, and started for New Ulm. He was pursued and overtaken by the Indians while nearing that city. By sharp running he reached New Ulm, or- ganized a rescue party, returned to the place of the encounter, and frightening away the Indians, rescued his wife and children, and recovered his team and goods.
It was through the southern part of Redwood county that Mrs. Lavina Eastlick and her two sons, Mrs. Alomina Hurd and her two children, Thomas Ireland, and other Lake Shetek refugees made their escape.
Authority and References. The material in this chapter is based largely on the "History of the Sioux Masacre," by Charles S. Bryant. For references see preceding chapter. While the editor of this work has used Bryant as his authority, there are many other interesting works on the same subject, notably the famous work by Heard.
CHAPTER XII.
REDWOOD FERRY AMBUSCADE.
The startling news of the tragic scenes at the Lower agency reached Fort Ridgely at about 10 o'clock on that day (August 18, 1862), but the extent and formidable character of the great In- dian uprising were not understood until several hours later. The messenger who bore the shocking tidings was J. C. Dickinson, the proprietor of a boarding house at the agency, and who brought with him a wagon load of refugees, nearly all women and chil- dren. Captain Marsh was in command of the fort, with his com- pany (B, Fifth Minnesota), as a garrison. Lieutenant T. J. Sheehan, with Company C of the same regiment, had been dis- patched to Fort Ripley, on the Upper Mississippi, near St. Cloud.
Sending a messenger with orders to Lieutenant Sheehan recall- ing him to Fort Ridgely and informing him that the Indians were "raising Hell at the Lower agency," Captain Marsh at once pre- pared to go to the scene of what seemed to be the sole locality of the troubles. He was not informed and had no instinctive or derived idea of the magnitude of the outbreak. Leaving about twenty men, under Lieutenant T. P. Gere, to hold the fort until Lieutenant Sheehan's return, Captain Marsh, with about fifty men of his company and the old Indian interpreter, Peter Quinn.
143
HISTORY OF REDWOOD COUNTY
set out for the agency, distant about twelve or fourteen miles to the northwest. On leaving Fort Ridgely the captain and the interpreter were mounted on mules; the men were on foot, but the captain had directed that teams, with extra ammunition and empty wagons for their transportation, should follow, and Gen- eral Hubbard's account, in Volume I of "Minnesota in the Civil and Indian Wars," says that these wagons overtook the com- mand "about three miles out."
In due time the little command came to the Redwood Ferry, but there is confusion in the printed accounts as to the exact time. Sergeant Bishop says it was "about 12 o'clock noon." Heard says it was "at sundown," or about 6 o'clock. Some of the Indians remember the time as in the evening, while others say it was in the afternoon. As the men were in wagons the greater part of the way, the distance, allowing for sundry halts, ought to have been compassed in four hours at the farthest. Half way across the bottom the captain ordered the men from the wagons and marched them on foot perhaps a mile to the ferry house and landing.
Meantime on the way, the soldiers had met some fifty fugitives and seen the bodies of many victims of the massacre.
The motives of the heroic and martyred Captain Marsh have often been discussed by historians and others. He was an officer of sound sense and good judgment, and had already come in intimate contact with Indian life and action, and knew of their discontent and their desperate mood.
While he did not realize the general character of the massacre he must have understood that a considerable number of Indians were engaged in it. The language of his dispatch to Lieutenant Sheehan, however, would indicate that he at that time believed the trouble to be strictly local and confined to the Redwood agency.
Some historians have thought that he had confidence that his force was strong enough to punish the guilty Indians and to bring the others to a sense of law and order. Other historians believe that he realized something of the danger before he left the fort, and that his realization of his danger increased as he continued on the journey, but that as a soldier and an officer he could do nothing else than to keep on until he met the murderous Indians and the God of Battles had determined the issue between them. Possibly he believed that the Indians upon seeing the uniformed soldiers would realize the enormity of their offense and the swift punishment which they were likely to meet at the hands of the organized and equipped military forces. Possibly he believed that the powerful chiefs would come to their senses at the sight of the soldiers and confer with him with a view to co-operating with the government in punishing the guilty.
144
HISTORY OF REDWOOD COUNTY
Peter Quinn, the old interpreter, with his forty years' experi- ence among the Sioux in Minnesota, knew the danger to be seri- ous. On leaving Ft. Ridgely with Captain Marsh and his men he said to Sutler B. H. Randall : "I am sure we are going into great danger; I do not expect to return alive." Then with tears in his eyes he continued : "Good-bye, give my love to all."
R. A. Randall, a son of B. H. Randall, declares that his father remonstrated with Captain Marsh, urging upon him the gravity of the situation and the necessity of staying at the fort to pro- tect the refugees who might seek safety there. Captain Marsh at first listened to the remonstrance and determined to stay at the fort. But later he changed his mind. He was a soldier, his duty was to punish the murderous assassins, and he could not sit idly in the fort while the guilty were allowed to go on their way to further crimes. "It is my duty," he said to Sutler Ran- dall as he started.
There is some evidence that as the ferry was reached the cap- tain realized the peril of the situation and the hopelessness of his task with so inadequate a force, and had given, or was about to give, his men order to retire just as they were fired upon.
Return I. Holcombe, the author of nearly all of this chapter, says: "The weight of evidence tends to prove either that Marsh did not realize the extent of the outbreak and the grave peril of his position, or else he was nobly oblivious to his own welfare and determined to do his duty as he saw it."
When Captain Marsh and the men under him reached the crest of Faribault's Hill they saw to the southward, over two miles away, on the prairie about the agency, a number of mounted Indians; of course, the Indians could and did see Marsh and his party. Knowledge of the coming of the soldiers had already reached the Indians from marauders who had been down the valley engaged in their dreadful work, and preparations were made to receive them. Scores of warriors, with bows and guns, repaired to the ferry landing, where it was known the party must come. Numbers crossed on the ferry boat to the north side of the river and concealed themselves in the willow thickets near by. The boat was finally moored to the bank on the east or north side, "in apparent readiness for the command to use for its crossing, though the dead body of the ferryman had been found on the road," says General Hubbard.
Of the brave and faithful ferryman, Rev. S. D. Hinman, who made his escape from the agency, has written:
"The ferryman, Mayley, who resolutely ferried : across the river at the agency all who desired to cross, was killed on the other side, just as he had passed the last man over. He was dis- emboweled; his head, hands and feet cut off and thrust into the
145
HISTORY OF REDWOOD COUNTY
cavity. Obscure Frenchman though he was, the blood of no nobler hero dyed the battlefields of Marathon or Thermopylae."
When the command reached the ferry landing only one Indian could be seen. This was Shonka-ska, or White Dog, who was standing on the west bank of the river, in plain view. For some time he had been "Indian farmer" at the Lower agency, engaged in teaching his red brethren how to plow and to cultivate the soil generally, receiving therefor a salary from the government. He had, however, been removed from his position, which had been given to Ta-o-pi (pronounced Tah-o-pee, and meaning wounded), another Christian Indian. White Dog bore a general good repu- tation in the country until the outbreak, and many yet assert that he has been misrepresented and unjustly accused.
A conversation in the Sioux language was held between White Dog and Interpreter Quinn, Captain Marsh suggesting most of the questions put to the Indian through the interpreter. There are two versions of this conversation. The surviving soldiers say that, as they understood it, and as it was interpreted by Mr. Quinn, White Dog assured Captain Marsh that there was no serious danger; that the Indians were willing, and were waiting, to hold a council at the agency to settle matters, and that the men could cross on the ferry boat in safety, etc. On the other hand certain Indian friends of White Dog, who were present, have always claimed that he did not use the treacherous language imputed to him, but plainly told the interpreter to say to the captain that he and his men must not attempt to cross, and that they should "go back quick." However, White Dog was sub- sequently tried by a military commission on a charge of dis- loyalty and treachery, found guilty, and hung at Mankato. He insisted on his innocence to the last.
While the conversation between White Dog and Interpreter Quinn was yet in progress the latter exclaimed, "Look out!" The next instant came a volley of bullets and some arrows from the concealed foe on the opposite bank of the river. This was accompanied and followed by yells and whoops and renewed firing, this time from the Indians on both sides of the river. They were armed chiefly with double-barreled shotguns, loaded with "traders' balls," and their firing at the short distance was very destructive. Pierced with a dozen bullets, Interpreter Quinn was shot dead from his saddle at the first fire, and his body was after- ward well stuck with arrows. A dozen or more soldiers were killed outright, and many wounded by the first volley.
Although the sudden and fierce attack by overwhelming num- bers was most demoralizing, Captain Marsh retained his presence of mind sufficiently to steady his men, to form them in line for defense, and to have them fire at least one volley. But now the Indians were in great numbers on the same side of the river, only
146
HISTORY OF REDWOOD COUNTY
a few yards away. They had secured possession of the log ferry house, from which they could fire as from a block house, and they were in the thickets all about. Many of them were naked, except as to breech clouts. Across the river near the bank were numbers behind the logs belonging to the agency steam saw mill, and a circle of enemies was rapidly being completed about the little band.
Below the ferry a few rods was a dense willow thicket, from two to ten rods in width and running down the north or east bank of the river for a mile or more. Virtually cutting or force- ing their way through the Indians Captain Marsh and fourteen of his men succeeded in reaching this thicket, from which they kept up a fight for about two hours. The Indians poured volleys at random from all sides into the thick covert, but the soldiers lay close to the ground and but few of them were struck. Two men, named Sutherland and Blodgett, were shot through the body and remained where they fell until after dark, when they crawled out, and finding an old canoe, floated down the river and reached Fort Ridgely the next day. Of a party of five that had taken refuge in another thicket, three were killed before dark. One of the survivors, Thomas Parsley, remained in the thicket with his dead comrades until late at night, when he, too, escaped and made his way to the fort.
Gradually the imperiled soldiers worked their way through the thick grass and brush of the jungle in which they were con- cealed until they had gone some distance east of the ferry. Mean- time they had kept up a fight, using their ammunition carefully, but under the circumstances almost ineffectually. The Indians did not attempt to charge them or "rush" their position, for this was not the Indian style of warfare. Of the second great casualty of the day Sergeant John F. Bishop says :
"About 4 o'clock p. m., when our ammunition was reduced to not more than four rounds to a man, Captain Marsh ordered his men to swim the river and try and work our way down on the west side. He entered the river first and swam to about the center and there went down with a cramp."
Some of the men went to the captain's assistance, but were unable to save him. He was unwounded and died from the effects of the paralyzing cramps which seized him. Some days after- wards his body was found in a drift, miles below where it sank.
The ground where Captain Marsh and his company were ambuscaded was, as has been stated, at and about the ferry land- ing on the north side of the Minnesota river, opposite the Lower agency. From the landing on the south side two roads had been graded up the steep high bluff to the agency buildings, and from the north landing the road stretched diagonally across the wide
147
HISTORY OF REDWOOD COUNTY
river bottom to the huge corrugated bluffs, two miles or more away, at Faribault's Hill. The hill was so named for David Faribault, a mixed blood Sioux, and a son of old John Baptiste Faribault, and who lived at the base of the hill. He and his fam- ily were made prisoners by the Indians and held during the out- break. At Faribault's Hill the road divided, one fork leading up the hill and over the prairie to the eastward and northwest, running along the crest of the bluff to Fort Ridgely. The other followed the base of the bluff down the river. There were two or three houses between the ferry landing and the bluff, and at the landing itself was a house. All about the landing on the north side the ground of the main ambush was open; it is now covered with willows and other small growths of the nature of underbrush.
After the drowning of Captain Marsh, the command, consist- ing of fifteen men, devolved upon Sergeant John F. Bishop. The men then resumed their slow and toilsome progress toward the fort. Five of them, including the sergeant, were wounded, one of them, Private Ole Svendson, so badly that he had to be carried. The Indians, for some reason, did not press the attack further, after the drowning of Captain Marsh, and all of them, except Ezekiel Rose, who was wounded and lost his way, reached Fort Ridgely (Bishop says at 10 o'clock) that night: Rose wandered off into the country and was finally picked up near Henderson. Five miles from the fort Bishop sent forward Privates James Dunn and W. B. Hutchinson, with information of the disaster, to Lieutenant Gere.
The loss of the whites was one officer (Captain Marsh) drowned; twenty-four men, including twenty-three soldiers, and Interpreter Quinn, killed, and five men wounded. The Indians had one man killed, a young warrior of the Wahpakoota band, named To-wa-to, or All Blue. When the band lived at or near Faribault this To-wa-to was known for his fondness for fine dress and for his gallantries. He was a dandy and a Lothario, but he was no coward.
The affair at Redwood Ferry was most influential upon the character of the Indian outbreak. It was a complete Indian vic- tory. A ,majority of the soldiers had been killed; their guns, ammunition and equipments had fallen into the hands of the victors; the first attempt to interfere with the savage programme had been signally repulsed, all with the loss of but one man. Those of the savages who had favored the war from the first were jubilant over what had been accomplished and confident of the final and general result. There had been but the feeblest resist- ance on the part of the settlers who had been murdered that day, and the defense made by the soldiers had amounted to nothing. There was the general remark in the Indian camps that the
148
HISTORY OF REDWOOD COUNTY
whites, with all of their vaunted bravery, were "as easy to kill as sheep."
Before the successful ambuscade there had been apprehension among many of the Indians that the outbreak would soon be sup- pressed, and they had hesitated about engaging in it. There were also those who at least were loyal and faithful to the whites and would take no part in the uprising. But after the destruction of Captain Marsh and his command all outward opposition to the war was swept away in the wild torrent of exultation and enthusiasm created by the victory. Heard says :
"The Indians were highly jubilant over this success. What- ever of doubt there was before among some of the propriety of embarking in the massacre disappeared, and the Lower Indians became a unit upon the question. Their dead enemies were lying all around them, and their camp was filled with captives. They had taken plenty of arms, powder, lead, provisions and clothing. The 'Farmer' Indians and members of the church, fearing, like all other renegades, that suspicion of want of zeal in the cause would rest upon them, to avoid this suspicion became more bloody and brutal in their language and conduct than the others."
If Captain Marsh had succeeded in fighting his way across the river and into the agency, thereby dispersing the savages, it is probable that the great red rebellion would have been suppressed in less than half the time which was actually required. The friendly Indians would doubtless have been encouraged and stimulated to open and even aggressive manifestations of loyalty ; the dubious and the timid would have been awed into inactivity and quiescence. As it was, the disaster to the little band of sol- diers fanned the fires of the rebellion into a great conflagration of murder and rapine.
Immediately after the destruction of Captain Marsh's com- pany at the ferry Little Crow dispatched about twenty-five young mounted warriors to watch Fort Ridgely and its approaches. About midnight these scouts reported that a company of some fifty men was coming toward the fort on the road from Hutch- inson to Ridgely. Little Crow then believed that the garrison at Ridgely did not number more than seventy-five and that it would be a comparatively easy matter to capture the fort with its stores, its canon and its inmates. At the time he did not know that the Renville Rangers had returned from St. Peter and reinforced the garrison.
Tuesday morning, August 19, Little Crow with 320 warriors from all of the Lower bands except Shakopee's-only the best men being taken-set out from the agency village to capture Fort Ridgely. Half way down dissensions arose among the rank and file. A majority wanted to abandon the attack on the fort temporarily and to first ravage the country south of the Minne-
149
HISTORY OF REDWOOD COUNTY
sota, and if possible seize New Ulm. Little Crow urged that the fort be taken first, before it could be reinforced, but this prudent counsel did not avail with those who were fairly ravenous for murder and plunder, which might be accomplished without danger, and cared less about the risk of attacking the fort, which would be defended by men with muskets, even though its capture would be a great military exploit. About 200 of this faction left and repaired to the settlements in Brown county about New Ulm and on the Cottonwood, Little Crow, with about 120 men, re- mained in the vicinity of the fort watching and waiting.
Authority and References. The material for this chapter is based upon "Minnesota in Three Centuries," by Return I. Hol- combe, and upon the "Recollections of the Sioux Massacre," by Oscar Garrett Wall. Many other works have also been con- sulted. Mr. Wall was a member of Captain Marsh's company stationed at Fort Ridgely, but was not with the detail which set with the disaster at the ferry. He, however, heard the story the next day from the survivors. Major Holcombe, in preparing his article, consulted all available printed records and manuscripts, personally interviewed some of the survivors, and also talked with Indians who were present at the ambuscade.
CHAPTER XIII.
MASSACRE EXPERIENCES.
Experiences of Mrs. Mary E. Schwandt Schmidt. Johann Schwandt and his wife Christina with their five children, their son-in-law John Walz, and a friend of the family, John Frass, started in May, 1862, from Fairwater, Fond du Lac county, Wis- consin, with their household goods, provisions, two yokes of oxen, a few cows and some calves. After an overland journey, which occupied more than a month, they settled on Middle creek in what is now Flora township.
I was then a girl of fourteen and my brother August was ten years of age. We walked the entire distance, driving the stock and picking flowers by the wayside, and when we were tired we would stop and rest and let the cattle eat. Our dear mother would cook the meal and spread the cloth on the grass, and we would all sit around and enjoy the meal more perhaps than the king in his palace eating from golden plates and drinking from crystal glasses. The land which my father settled on was in the wilderness of the Minnesota river bottomlands and the grass was tall and coarse, and the cattle did not like it, but there was no other. My father chose this place because there was timber there,
150
HISTORY OF REDWOOD COUNTY
and the first thing the men did was to hew down some trees and peel the bark off of them. They then built a log cabin of two rooms, and, as at first we had no doors, they put blankets at the openings, and covered the roof with grass and bark. After a few weeks, when father went to New Ulm to do some trading, he bought some doors and windows and also shingles. I accompanied him to do some shopping for my mother and sister. It took us four days to go and come back, it being about forty miles from where we lived and traveling with oxen was very slow. After we had some doors and windows in our cabin we lived quite comfortably. The men started to break up the land and cut some hay on father's place, and as both Mr. Walz and Mr. Frass had taken a claim up on the prairie they all went up there to break the land, and all were happy and contented, but it was not to be for long.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.