Martin Scott was born in Bennington, Vermont, on January 17, 1788. His family was extremely poor, but because of his freedom from army vices—gambling and drinking—he was able in later years to do them many favors. His kindness was equalled only by his bravery. For gallant conduct during the Mexican War he received several promotions, and held a commission as lieutenant colonel when he met death leading his regiment in the battle of Molino del Rey.[160]

A newspaper correspondent who went over the field of battle, saw a gray-headed soldier spreading the blanket over the corpse of a fallen comrade. "I rode up to him", wrote the reporter to his newspaper, "and asked him whether that was an officer. He looked up, and every lineament of his face betokening the greatest grief, replied, 'you never asked a question sir, more easily answered, it is an officer.' I then asked him who he was. He again replied, 'The best soldier of the 5th infantry, sir.' I then alighted from my horse and uncovering the face, found it was Col. Martin Scott. As I again covered the face, the soldier continued, without apparently addressing himself to any person in particular—'They have killed him—they will be paid for this—if it had only been me—I have served with him almost four enlistments but what will his poor family say?' And as he concluded thus the tears coursed down his furrowed cheeks, and the swelling of his bosom showed how deeply he was affected by the death of his veteran and gallant commander."[161]

When the Fifth Infantry was transferred in 1840 there was a second home-coming at Fort Snelling in that it was succeeded by parts of the First Infantry which remained until the year 1848. Captain Seth Eastman was in command at four different times during this period, and it was through his eyes that we can see Old Fort Snelling as it was.[162] After his graduation from the Military Academy he was an assistant teacher of drawing at West Point. Following this he served in the Florida War and on the frontier until 1850, when he was called to Washington to illustrate the History, Condition, and Future Prospects of the Indian Tribes of the United States. Active service on the frontier and in the Civil War followed, and in 1866 he was breveted a brigadier general.[163]

Mary Henderson Eastman, his wife, also commands attention. The intimate association of the fort with the surrounding Indians brought to her knowledge many incidents connected with their life which she embodied in a volume published in 1849 and entitled: Dahcotah: or, Life and Legends of the Sioux around Fort Snelling. In this volume Longfellow read of the Falls of Minnehaha, which he describes so picturesquely in Hiawatha.[164] Other literary work was done by Mrs. Eastman, one of her volumes being Aunt Phyllis's Cabin, a reply to Mrs. Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin.[165]

Parts of the Sixth Infantry were garrisoned in Fort Snelling from 1848 to 1852, and beginning in 1850 there was also a company of the First Dragoons who engaged in many of the expeditions narrated in the preceding chapter. Among the officers who commanded during this period was Lieutenant William T. Magruder, who was killed on July 3, 1863, at the Battle of Gettysburg while serving in the ranks of the Confederate army.[166] One company of the Third Artillery was located at the post from 1853 to 1856. At the head of this company was Captain W. T. Sherman who, after serving in the Indian wars and the Mexican War, rose to prominence in the Civil War during which he was brevetted a major general. After the Civil War he was appointed commander of the Department of the East.[167]

Among the last troops which occupied Fort Snelling before it was abandoned in 1858 was a part of the Tenth Infantry. Major E. R. S. Canby of this regiment was in command of the fort during the summer and autumn of 1856. His was a wonderful record of achievement upon the frontier and in the Civil War, and like Colonel Leavenworth he met his death in service. Born in Kentucky the year that Fort Snelling was founded, he moved to Indiana as a boy. He was appointed to the Military Academy at West Point in 1835 and graduated in 1839. For the next three years he was engaged as a second lieutenant in the Second Infantry in the Florida War, and upon the successful termination of the campaigns he was employed in removing the Cherokees, Choctaws, and Creeks to Indian Territory. After a few years in garrison duty and the recruiting service he participated in the Mexican War, being promoted "for gallant and meritorious service" at Contreras, Cherubusco, and the Belen Gate of the City of Mexico. On March 3, 1855, a promotion made him major in the Tenth Infantry; and it was while holding this position that he served at Fort Snelling.

In 1858 Major Canby was transferred to Fort Bridger, Utah, where he commanded an expedition against the Navajo Indians. While stationed at Fort Defiance, New Mexico, during the early years of the Civil War, he repelled the Confederate general, Sibley, who left one-half of his force behind him in killed, wounded, and prisoners. On March 31, 1862, he was made a brigadier general of volunteers and summoned to Washington to assist Secretary of War Stanton. While here General Canby was called upon to take charge of a difficult position. Draft riots in New York City from July 13th to July 16th resulted in the killing and wounding of about a thousand people and the destruction of about one and a half million dollars worth of property.[168] On July 17th General Canby was put in charge of the Federal troops in the city, and he was later able to enforce the provisions of the draft without difficulties.[169] Following this came an appointment as commander of the military division of West Mississippi, where he was wounded by Confederate guerrillas.

At the close of the war, Edward Canby, then a major general of volunteers was sent to the far West as commander of the Department of the Columbia. Here the United States was engaged in a war with the Modoc Indians led by their chief "Captain Jack". On April 11, 1873, General Canby held a peace parley with the Indians. It had been agreed that both parties should be unarmed, but in the middle of the negotiations "Captain Jack" suddenly drew a revolver from his breast, and shot Canby through the head killing him instantly.[170]

Other officers at the post who had real power were the garrison physicians. One of these, Dr. John Emerson was a giant in body and impulsive in spirit. On a certain day in early winter when the quartermaster was distributing stoves to the officers, Dr. Emerson asked for one for his negro servant. This the quartermaster refused, saying that there were not enough in store; whereupon the doctor insinuated that the statement was a lie. Upon being insulted thus the quartermaster struck his companion between the eyes. Emerson turned on his heels immediately, but he returned in a few minutes with a brace of pistols which he pointed at his assailant. The fighting spirit of the quartermaster fell at the appearance of these weapons, and he started across the parade ground on a run followed by the doctor. A third character appeared in the person of Major Plympton, the commanding officer, who arrested Dr. Emerson. This episode gave rise to a great commotion in the garrison. One group who wanted some excitement urged that only in blood could the quarrel be settled; while the other group sought for peace, knowing that there was no other physician nearer than Prairie du Chien. Not for several days was the quarrel patched up, and then the terms were never made public.[171]

The cause of all this trouble was Dred Scott, man of color, and the slave of Dr. Emerson. He had been brought to Fort Snelling by his master in 1836, and here he was married to Harriet, also colored, who had been sold by Major Taliaferro to the doctor. When Dr. Emerson was transferred to Missouri, he took Dred Scott with him. After the death of his master, Scott began proceedings in the courts for his freedom on the ground that his residence at the military post made him free—Fort Snelling being located on soil where slavery was prohibited by the Missouri Compromise of 1820. Mrs. Emerson, who wanted to avoid an appearance in the courts, made over the control of Scott to John F. A. Sanford, and the case was finally brought to the Supreme Court of the United States. Thus Old Fort Snelling was connected with the case of Scott vs. Sanford, which was so important among the events leading up to the Civil War.[172]

Were battles and military operations alone considered, the annals of Fort Snelling would comprise few pages; and were only military men characterized one of the most potent factors in the life of the fort would be omitted. The influence of the fort on the Indians was felt more through the quiet daily work of the Indian agent who was their official friend. Although he was an officer entirely distinct from the military organization at the fort, his work may legitimately be accredited among the other activities of the post. He was, in fact, an army official. The act of August 7, 1789, which organized the War Department, placed Indian affairs in the hands of the Secretary;[173] on July 9, 1832, a commissioner of Indian affairs was authorized;[174] and on June 30, 1834, the relations of the Indian agents to the military department were more clearly defined. The Superintendent of Indian Affairs, the Indian agents, and the sub-agents were given the right to call upon the military forces to remove all trespassers in the Indian country, to procure the arrest and trial of all Indians accused of committing any crime, and to break up any distillery set up in the Indian country.[175]

By the act of March 3, 1849, the Department of the Interior was organized. Section Five of the act stipulated that "the Secretary of the Interior shall exercise the supervisory and appellate powers now exercised by the Secretary of the War Department, in relation to all the acts of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs".[176] On the whole this law did not disturb the cooeperation between the two branches of the government service, although the commander at Fort Snelling intimated to the agent that his privileges were "not of right but by courtesy".[177]

One name more than any other is associated with the agency at Fort Snelling—usually called the agency of St. Peter's. From 1820 to 1840 regiments came and went, and the officers who ruled as "Lords of the North" were soon transferred to other posts. The military establishment was itself known by several different names in succession, but the Indian agent remained the same—Lawrence Taliaferro. His was a lasting influence—lasting because of the position he held in the memories of his wards and his associates, and lasting because of the records that he left.

To the Indians he was a real "Father". Americans, Scotch, Sioux, and French could all find within his breast, they said, a kindred spirit, and they bestowed upon him the name of "Four Hearts" because of the impartiality of his actions to all nationalities.[178] In June, 1858, a number of Sioux chiefs were in Washington and came to see him. "My old Father," said Little Crow, "we have called upon you; we love you; we respect you.... Since you left us a dark cloud has hung over our nation. We have lost confidence in the promises of our Great Father, and his people; bad men have nearly destroyed us.... We failed to get a friend in anyone like you; they all joined the traders. We know your heart, it feels for your old children."[179]

Those who were associated with him at the fort also had kind words for him. "He belonged to a class more common then than now", remarked the son of Colonel Bliss. "He imagined it to be his imperative duty to see that every Indian under his charge had the enjoyment of all his rights, and never seemed to realize his opportunities for arranging with contractors for the supply of inferior goods and for dividing the profits."[180] Of this honesty Taliaferro wrote: "I have the Sad Consolation of leaving after twenty Seven years—the public Service as poor as when first I entered—The only evidence of my integrity".[181]

No one can write of Fort Snelling without using the papers which Lawrence Taliaferro left. The diary kept by him during these twenty years shows the meager pleasures and grim duties of his task. Of this diary only a few fragmentary pages are extant—three roughly bound collections of sheets, many of them torn, many of them half-burned, and their writing faded. But from almost every page that is legible some information is gleaned, concerning the life of the soldiers, the visits of the Indians, the state of the weather, and reflections on Indian relations and the best time for planting potatoes.[182] His wide acquaintance and the great extent of territory which his agency covered led to correspondence with many men. These letters also passed through a fire, and those that were rescued are now bound in four volumes.[183]

His reports to General William Clark, Superintendent of Indian Affairs at St. Louis, were forwarded to Washington where they are now kept in the files of the Indian office.[184] With methodical care Governor Clark copied the letters which he received into letter books. The existence of these letter books was not known until a few years ago, when some of them were found in the hands of a junk dealer in Lawrence, Kansas, and were rescued—a great gain to the history of the West.[185]

Many years after he closed his connection with the agency Lawrence Taliaferro wrote an "Autobiography"—a narrative that shows all the quaintness and egotism of the man. "Not until after the year 1840", he wrote "did the government become unfortunate in the selection of their agents for Indian affairs."[186] From this account can be gleaned information to supplement the bare facts usually given about his life. His ancestors had come to England from Genoa, Italy, and later they emigrated to Virginia. Here Lawrence Taliaferro was born on February 28, 1794. At the age of eighteen he joined the army and served through the War of 1812, being a first lieutenant when it closed. Although he received no other promotion he was always known among his associates as "Major".[187]

He was appointed Indian agent for St. Peter's on March 27, 1819, and on April 1, 1819, he accepted—resigning the same day from the army.[188] He reached his new station probably in the summer of 1820, and was immediately engaged in the duties connected with Indian affairs.[189] During his term of office he was continually troubled by ill-health which resulted from his campaigns in the late war. In 1824 he resigned because of this ill-health, and although he continued in service, Governor Clark at one time wrote to the Secretary of War that "his fate is considered as very doubtful."[190]

As early as 1831 he confided to his diary that "there is something of a Combination of Persons at work day after day to pick at my Actions both public and private".[191] His resignation finally came in 1839, and he closed his connection with the Department on January 1, 1840, because he could no longer endure the machinations of the traders.[192] Thereafter he made his home at Bedford, Pennsylvania, serving as a military storekeeper from 1857 to 1863, when he was put on the retired list. Mr. Taliaferro visited his old home at Fort Snelling in 1856 and wrote characteristically: "We were in St. Paul on the twenty-fourth of June, the 'widow's son' was Irving's Rip Van Winkle; after a nap of fifteen years, we awoke in the midst of fast times. We truly felt bewildered when we found all the haunts and resting-places of the once noble sons of the forest, covered by cities, towns, and hamlets. We asked but few questions, being to our mind received as a strange animal; if nothing worse."[193]

Among the others who served before 1858 as Indian agent were Amos J. Bruce, R. G. Murphy, and Nathaniel McLean. The influx of whites had greatly increased the difficulties of their position, and the memory of their former agent made the Indians suspicious of their new advisers. The Governor of the Territory became the Superintendent of Indian Affairs, and his presence so near the agency took from the agent much of his power.[194]

Scott Campbell, the interpreter at Fort Snelling, was the intermediary between the Indians and their lords. He was a half-breed whom Meriwether Lewis had met on his expedition up the Missouri River. He took the boy with him back to St. Louis; and when Lewis died, Campbell returned to his Sioux relatives and finally drifted to the agency at Fort Snelling.[195] Having a knowledge of four languages, and possessing the confidence of all the tribes within four hundred miles of the post, he was indispensable. From August, 1825, to April, 1826, he was engaged in the fur trade, but was lured back into service by a salary of thirty-four dollars per month and one ration per day. By 1843, however, he had become such a drunkard that he had to be dismissed.[196]

The veteran missionary, S. W. Pond, in recalling early days wrote that "Scott Campbell no longer sits smoking his long pipe, and conversing in low tones with the listless loungers around the old Agency House; but who that resided in this country thirty or forty years ago can pass by the old stone houses near Fort Snelling and not think of Major Taliaferro and of his interpreter?"[197]

And who can pass the Old Round Tower without thinking of those men who as officers at Fort Snelling ruled supreme over a vast region, and who left the fort for places of greater trust and greater influence?



V

A SOLDIER'S WORLD

Instead of a world of city streets and country towns, of tilled fields and rivers busy with commerce, the raw recruit at Old Fort Snelling entered upon a world of stone barracks and Indian tepees, of tangled prairies and rushing rivers.[198] The landing was directly under the cliff which towered above to a height which to many a wanderer in a frail canoe seemed twice the one hundred and six feet which the scientist's instruments ascribed to it.[199] In later years a stairway led to the quarters of the commanding officer, but the wagon road which crept upwards along the sandstone wall—"nearly as white as loaf-sugar"[200]—where the swallows flew in and out from their holes, gained the summit at the rear of the fort.

Following the road through the gate, and passing between the buildings to the center of the parade ground, the recruit probably paused to look about him.[201] Visible in the openings between the buildings was the stone wall about ten feet high which surrounded the barracks, quarters, and storehouses. This wall took the place of the picket-stockade which was so prominent a feature in earlier and ruder fortifications. Conforming to the arrangement of the buildings which it enclosed, the wall was diamond-shaped, one point being at the edge of the promontory where the valley of the Minnesota River met that of the Mississippi River. A second point was on the edge of the steep bluff which rose from the Mississippi. A third point, at a distance of about four hundred and fifty feet directly opposite the second, was on the summit of the Minnesota bluff. The fourth point was situated on the level ground of the plateau, at a distance of about seven hundred feet from the first point.

As he stood in the middle of the parade ground and gazed beyond the pump and the magazine at the western or fourth point, the recruit saw rising to a height twice that of the wall, the Old Round Tower. To-day this tower is a vine-clad relic—a vestige remaining from the days of the past. But to the soldier of Old Fort Snelling it was a more practical structure—a place of lookout from which he was often to scan the swells of the prairie for approaching Indians or returning comrades. At the second and third points were blockhouses—buildings of stone, each giving a view of the river below it. At the first point there was also a tower—a wooden lookout platform at the very edge of the precipice from which was visible the landscape surrounding the fort.

But the soldier was doubtless more interested in the buildings in which he was to live. The barracks for the men were under the north wall and consisted of two buildings one story in height. The larger of these, which was intended to accommodate two companies was divided into sets, each set having on the main floor an orderly-room and three squad-rooms, while below in the basement were a mess-room and a kitchen. The other barrack was intended to be occupied by one company only; and the orderly-room, squad-rooms, mess-rooms, and a kitchen were on the same floor. The cellars below were damp and were used only for storage purposes.



Occupying the same position under the south wall, and facing the barracks, were two other buildings, similar in appearance. In one of these the officers' quarters were located. It was divided into twelve sets, each consisting of two rooms, the front one sixteen by fourteen feet, and the back one, eight by fifteen and a half feet. In the basement were located kitchens for each set. The other building contained the offices of the commanding officer, the paymaster, the quartermaster, and the commissary. Here was a room used by the post school, and another filled with harness. An ordnance sergeant and five laundresses found quarters in the same structure.

The quarters of the commanding officer with the flag staff directly in front, faced the parade ground and the Old Round Tower. There were four rooms on the main floor and in the basement were kitchens and pantries. Other buildings were also included within the fort. The storehouse of the commissary department was located near the southern blockhouse; and on either side of the gate were two buildings, shunned by all—the guardhouse and the hospital.

Such was the plan of the fort, convenient in arrangement and beautiful in appearance; but the report of an official inspection in 1827 complained that "the main points of defence against an enemy appear to have been in some respects sacrificed in the effort to secure the comfort and convenience of the troops in peace. These are important considerations; but at an exposed frontier post the primary object must be security against the attack of an enemy. Health and comfort come next. The buildings are too large, too numerous, and extending over a space entirely too great; enclosing a uselessly large parade, five times greater than is at all desirable in that climate."[202]

A traveller who at a later day was entertained within the fort wrote of it facetiously in these words: "The idea is further suggested, that the strong stone wall was rather erected to keep the garrison in, than the enemy out. Though adapted for mounting cannon if needful, the walls were unprovided with those weapons; and the only piece of ordnance that I detected out of the magazine, was an old churn thrust gallantly through one of the embrasures. We were however far from complaining of the extra expense and taste which the worthy officer whose name it bears had expended on the erection of Fort Snelling, as it is in every way an addition to the sublime landscape in which it is situated."[203]

But an examination of the contents of the magazine would have revealed weapons more formidable than churns. Among the equipment reported in 1834 one reads of two iron twelve-pounder cannon of the garrison type; three six-pounder iron cannon of the field type; and two five and eight-tenths inch iron howitzers. There was also equipment for these pieces of artillery—carriages, sponges and rammers, lead aprons, dark lanterns, gunners' belts, gunners' haversacks, and tarpaulins. There were stored ready for service, 440 balls for the twelve-pounders, 1255 balls for the six-pounders, 546 pounds of mixed loose grapeshot, and many other sizes of strapped and canister shot. For the use of the infantry there were 7749 musket flints, 1825 pounds of musket powder, 1513 pounds of rifle powder, 31,390 cartridges, and 2047 blank cartridges.[204]

Other structures closely connected with the work of the fort were located outside the wall. The buildings of the Indian agency were situated a quarter of a mile west, on the prairie.[205] These consisted of a council house, the agent's house, and an armorer's shop. The original council house was built by the troops in 1823, but Agent Taliaferro claimed that most of the inside work was done at his own expense. The building was of logs and stone, eighty-two feet long, eighteen feet wide, and presenting in the front a piazza of seventy feet. Within, there were six rooms, lined with pine planking and separated from each other by panel doors.[206]

At one o'clock on the morning of August 14, 1830, the sentinels at the fort discovered that the council house was on fire. But the flames had gained so much headway that it was impossible to save any of the contents. The interpreter and his family who lived in this building barely escaped with their lives. In reporting the loss to the superintendent, Major Taliaferro wrote that "the general impression here is that fire was put to the house by Some drunken Indians & circumstances are strong in justifying such a conclusion."[207] This surmise was right, for on April 7, 1831, the Indians delivered at the fort one of their number who they claimed was guilty of the act.[208]

That steps were taken to build a new council house is evident from the record in Taliaferro's diary under date of March 8, 1831, that four men had been hired "at $12 per Month to cut & carry timber out of the pine Swamp for the Agency Council House."[209] But in 1839 Taliaferro recommended that the agency be moved to a point seven miles up the river; and in 1841 there was a movement on foot to buy Baker's stone trading house for the same purpose.[210]

Near the location of the old council house were two other buildings. One of these was the agent's house. This was made entirely of stone, and was one and a half stories high. It contained four rooms and a passage on the lower floor and two rooms above.[211] Hastily built by troops at an early day, its comforts were few. "Since the Rainy Season Set in", complained the agent in 1834, "both the hired Men and Myself have not had a Spot in our houses that Could be called dry, Not even our beds".[212] An armorer's shop, where blacksmith work was done for the Indians, was made of logs and measured sixteen by eighteen feet. Nearer the fort was the home of Franklin Steele, the sutler of the post.[213]

At Camp Cold Water, B. F. Baker had erected a large stone trading house, which in 1841 was valued at six thousand dollars. While he had no legal title to the land on which this house was built, the officers at the post allowed him to remain. Later it was sold to Kenneth McKenzie, who in 1853 built an addition, renovated the entire building, and used it as a hotel. In the vicinity of this structure were several small huts which had been the homes of some squatters on the reservation. But after their expulsion these huts rapidly fell into decay.[214]

In his duties and recreations the soldier was often brought into touch with other features of the world about him—the points of scenic interest and the Indian villages. From the wooden lookout tower near the commanding officer's quarters a glimpse of the surrounding land was revealed.

"The view from the angle of the wall at the extreme point, is highly romantic", wrote one who saw the wild scene before civilization had left its traces on the landscape. "To your left lies the broad deep valley of the Mississippi, with the opposite heights, descending precipitously to the water's edge; and to the right and in front, the St. Peter's, a broad stream, worthy from its size, length of course, and the number of tributaries which it receives, to be called the Western Fork of the Great River itself. It is seen flowing through a comparatively open vale, with swelling hills and intermingling forest and prairie, for many miles above the point of junction. As it approaches the Mississippi, the volume of water divides into two branches; that on the right pursues the general course of the river above, and enters the Mississippi, at an angle of perhaps fifty degrees, directly under the walls of the fort; while the other, keeping to the base of the high prairie lands which rise above it to a notable summit called the Pilot Knob, enters the Mississippi lower down. The triangular island thus formed between the rivers lies immediately under the fort. Its level surface is partially cultivated, but towards the lower extremity thickly covered with wood. Beyond their junction, the united streams are seen gliding at the base of high cliffs into the narrowing valley below. Forests, and those of the most picturesque character, interspersed with strips of prairie, clothe a great portion of the distant view.

"A little cluster of trading houses is situated on the right branch of the St. Peter's, and here and there on the shores, and on the island, you saw the dark conical tents of the wandering Sioux. A more striking scene we had not met with in the United States, and hardly any that could vie with it for picturesque beauty, even at this unfavourable season. What must it be in spring, when the forests put forth their young leaves, and the prairies are clothed in verdure!"[215]

This "little cluster of trading houses" was the town of Mendota. Here was the stone house of Henry H. Sibley, and that of J. B. Faribault. Near the river was the ferry house and the home of Mr. Finley the ferryman.[216] Upon the hillside lay the little Catholic chapel, surrounded by the graves in the cemetery. But the center of interest was in the warehouse and store of the American Fur Company, where the skins of buffalo, elk, deer, fox, beaver, otter, muskrat, mink, martin, raccoon, and other animals were sorted and divided into packs weighing about a hundred pounds. Indians, Frenchmen, half-breeds, and restless wanderers from the East were always loitering about the establishment.[217]

From the fort a road led along the Mississippi to the Falls of St. Anthony, on the way crossing Minnehaha Creek on the bridge built in early days by the soldiers. Here a stop was made to view the beauty of the cascade then known as Little Falls or Brown's Falls. It was the common practice for travellers to descend to the foot of the falls, clinging to the shrubs along the slippery pathway, and then go behind the sheet of falling water.[218] Continuing, at a distance of eight miles up the Mississippi from the fort, the Falls of St. Anthony was reached. Although only sixteen feet high, the breadth of almost six hundred yards, broken in the middle by a rocky island gave to it an impressive majesty, and the thick vegetation on the island and banks returned a gloomy reflection from the whirling waters.[219]

It is no wonder that in that wild and picturesque locality the Indians saw things ghostly and supernatural. "They tell you that here a young Dacota mother, goaded by jealousy,—the husband [sic] of her children having taken another wife,—unmoored her canoe above the Great Fall, and seating herself and her children in it,—sang her death song, and went over the foaming acclivity in the face and amid the shrieks of her tribe. And often, the Indian believes, when the nights are calm, and the sky serene,—and the dew-drops are hanging motionless on the sprays of the weeping birch on the island,—and the country far and wide is vibrating to the murmur of the cataract,—that then the misty form of the young mother may be seen moving down the deceitful current above, while her song is heard mingling its sad notes with the lulling sound of 'the Laughing Water!'"[220]

Here at the Falls, on the west bank of the river, were three buildings: a saw mill, a grist mill, and a one-story frame dwelling, where a detachment of soldiers always remained to guard the property. The saw mill had provided much of the lumber used in the construction of the fort, and in the grist mill the corn was cracked that was fed during the winter to the cattle—a drove being delivered every fall for the use of the garrison. These buildings were still standing in 1858, although they were then in a bad state of decay.[221]

Among the lakes on the prairie the most important were the Lake of the Isles, Lake Calhoun, and Lake Harriet. These were favorite picnic and hunting grounds for the men and women of the garrison. An old map made in 1823 shows "Green's Villa" on Lake Calhoun—probably a hunting lodge or shelter built by Lieutenant Platt Rogers Green.[222] Here on Lake Calhoun was located the missionary establishment which was so closely connected with the life of the fort.[223]

There were other Indian villages near the fort. Nine miles below, on the bank of the Mississippi was the Sioux village of Kaposia. Here Wakinyantanka, or Big Thunder, reigned over his band which numbered one hundred and eighty-three in 1834. Two or three miles upstream from its mouth on the banks of the Minnesota was the group of wigwams called Black Dog's village, although the chief was Wamditanka or Big Eagle. About nine miles from Fort Snelling was Pinisha, reported as having one hundred and forty-eight inhabitants ruled over by Good Road. The largest group, three hundred and sixty-eight souls, was that of the Tintatonwan band, located twenty-four miles from Fort Snelling and near the present town of Shakopee. Shapaydan or Shakpay was the chief, the father of the warrior of the same name who was executed at Fort Snelling for participating in the Sioux massacre of 1862.[224]

These villages were very much the same in appearance, large bark lodges being occupied by the Indians in the summer. The villages swarmed with children, squaws, painted warriors, and yelping dogs. About the lodges were the corn fields, the scaffolds where the corn was dried, and the more mournful scaffolds where, wrapped in buffalo skins, reposed the bones of the hunters who had followed the milky way to the "Land of the Ghosts".[225]



VI

GLIMPSES OF GARRISON LIFE

What sort of a life did the soldier live in the barracks and on the parade ground, and in the world of prairies, rivers, and woods that lay about him? No person who was ever quartered within the walls of Old Fort Snelling seems to have left an account of what was included in the tasks and recreations of a day. Doubtless the routine duties repeated day after day were thought too ordinary to be worth recording. The pleasures were so simple and came so much as a matter of course that they also receive scant mention in the annals of the fort. It is from the General Regulations for the Army that one gets the daily program of a military post; and the few fragmentary pages of Taliaferro's diary and letters, together with the stray remarks of travellers and pioneers, indicate the joys and sorrows of a very human garrison.[226]

No sooner was dawn visible over the Mississippi bluffs than the musicians of the post were summoned to the parade ground and five minutes later the reveille was sounded. At the signal both officers and men arose. Soon the rolls of the companies were called in front of the quarters; the quarters were put in order; the ground in front swept; and the horses fed and watered. At eight-thirty the sick in the barracks were taken to the hospital, and at nine o'clock breakfast was served, preceded by a second roll-call. Then the various tasks of the day were performed under the direction of a captain or subaltern daily detailed as the "officer of the day".

A party termed the "General Fatigue" swept the entire parade ground—unless there were enough prisoners in the guard house to perform this unpleasant duty. A police guard furnished sentinels to watch over the prisoners, the colors, the quarters of the commanding officer, and the arms of the regiment. Other soldiers were posted at the front and the rear of the fort. Certain detachments were formed for reconnoitering and foraging—the nature of the tasks depending on the season of the year and the needs of the garrison.

At three o'clock in the afternoon the third roll-call was followed by dinner; and thirty minutes before sunset the music called out the regiment for dress parade, where various maneuvers were gone through and orders were read. After the parade, when the regiment was again in its quarters, the arms were placed in the arm-racks, the horses attended to, a fifth roll-call endured, and tattoo sounded. Then the lights were extinguished and all were expected to be quiet for the night.

This monotony of the daily program was equalled only by the monotony of the meals. The regulation diet prescribed by Congress in 1802 consisted of a pound and a quarter of beef, or three-quarters of a pound of pork; eighteen ounces of bread or flour; one gill of rum, whiskey, or brandy; and for every hundred rations were supplied two quarts of salt, four quarts of vinegar, four pounds of soap, and one pound and a half of candles. In 1832 coffee and sugar were substituted for the liquor.[227]

During the early years of Fort Snelling these supplies were brought from St. Louis in flatboats. With the development of steamboat traffic, the steamboat was utilized, but it did not entirely displace the earlier method. Difficulties often hindered the transportation of supplies. The summer of 1829 was extremely dry. The average monthly rainfall was less than an inch, and steamboat navigation was impossible. Even keelboats found difficulty in ascending the river; sixty days were spent by Lieutenant Reynolds in bringing up a load of supplies. A sand bar at Pine Bend was impassable, so half of the load was taken off and the rest hurried up the river. When the crew arrived the garrison was upon its last barrel of flour.[228]

"Bread and soup", runs a clause in the General Regulations for the Army, "are the great items of a soldier's diet, in every situation".[229] The bread was made from the wheat grown by the soldiers, and was ground in the mill at the Falls of St. Anthony. For some reason the crop of 1823 had become mouldy and the bread was black and bitter. When forced to eat it, the troops almost mutinied, bringing it out upon the parade ground and throwing it down.[230] Nor does it seem likely that the soup was more appetizing when one reads the following recipe which guided the company cooks: "To make soup, put into the vessel at the rate of five pints of water to a pound of fresh meat; apply a quick heat to make it boil promptly; skim off the foam, and then moderate the fire; salt is then put in, according to the palate. Add the vegetables of the season one or two hours, and sliced bread some minutes, before the simmering is ended. When the broth is sensibly reduced in quantity, that is, after five or six hours cooking, the process will be complete."[231]

Fortunately the soldier did not have to depend entirely on these rations. Out of his modest cash income of six dollars per month he could buy at the sutler's store small necessities and some luxuries. The sutler was the authorized merchant of the post, and in order that his monopoly might not lead him to demand unreasonable sums for his wares, the prices were fixed by a "council of administration" composed of three officers. For every officer and enlisted soldier serving at the post the sutler paid into the "post fund", from ten to fifteen cents per month. This sum was to be used for the relief of the widows or orphans of soldiers, the maintenance of a post school and band, and the purchase of books for a library.[232]

The books of Franklin Steele, who was the sutler at Fort Snelling from 1838 to 1858, may still be examined; and from their dreary lists of accounts, the human wants of a soldier at Old Fort Snelling are clearly indicated.[233] On March 12, 1849, Private Brown bought a pound of currants and a pound of raisins for fifty cents. Shoes, soap, and currants totalled $1.50 on April 7th; and on March 20th, two pounds of butter sold for thirty cents and a pound of cheese for forty-two cents. Private Ryerson had more varied needs. On March 7th, 1849, he purchased indigo; on March 16th, paper; on April 9th, alcohol and suspenders; five days later, needles and sugar; and on April 23rd, apples, butter, and a tin cup. The quiet waters in the neighboring lakes tempted Eli Pettijohn on a spring day in 1855 to invest $2.50 in "Fishing Tackel".

That the officers did not live upon the same fare as the soldiers is indicated by the entries under the title "Officers Mess". On July 31, 1855, there was purchased ten cents worth of cloves, ten cents worth of pepper, and ninety-five cents worth of cheese. Under the date of August 8th "Bread tickets" were purchased to the amount of one dollar; and on August 30th, fifty cents worth of "Yeast Powd'r" was charged to their account.

Saint and sinner both patronized this store. The Reverend Ezekiel Gear, who was the chaplain at the fort, evidently believed that cleanliness was next to godliness, for on July 31, 1855, he paid thirty cents for a scrub brush; on August 4th, he bought a broom for fifty cents; on August 30th, he purchased twenty-five cents worth of starch, and on October 19th, a large broom. Indulging in some luxuries, on August 2nd, 1855, he bought five cents worth of candy. Probably this was a treat for those two boys, his son and his grandson, whom a visitor two years later found sleeping in the little cemetery at Morgan's Bluff near the fort, their resting place marked by a rude slab with a Latin inscription: "Lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in death not divided."[234]

None the less clearly is the character of Sergeant Mahoney portrayed in these accounts. On July 31, 1855, it is recorded under his name: "1 Flask $.75". On August 20th, the same officer paid seventy-five cents for a bottle of cider. And the chaplain would have had an excellent illustration for his next sermon on intemperance if he could have read, as we can to-day, this melancholy note made in the sutler's book on October 17th: "Sergeant Mahoney, Cash Loaned 20.00".

There was need for sermons on intemperance. During the early years whiskey was issued as a part of the soldier's ration, and this only served to stimulate the desire for more. The class of men in the army was not always of the highest, and there were enough civilians who were willing to pander to their appetites. The following extract from Taliaferro's diary for March 22, 1831, is undoubtedly characteristic of many a forgotten episode: "Nothing of importance transpired this day. Two drunken Soldiers in crossing the SPeters broke through the Ice & were near being drowned. They were exceeding alarmed & made a hedious Noise & yelling for Assistance—the men from the Fort relieved them although late at night." Not always was assistance on hand in such circumstances. A report was made in March, 1840, of a certain officer who "disappeared on the evening of the 5th of March, supposed to have been drowned by falling through the ice."[235]

Drunkenness and absence from roll-call were among the infractions of rules for which punishment was most often inflicted. The character and severity of the punishment depended upon the mood of the commanding officer. Colonel Snelling, who was usually a very gentle man, was particularly severe in his treatment of offenders. "He would take them to his room", wrote one who spent several years in the Snelling household, "and compel them to strip, when he would flog them unmercifully. I have heard them beg him to spare them, 'for God's sake.'"[236] This punishment by flogging was often performed with a "cat"—an instrument made of nine thongs about eighteen inches long, knotted in every inch, and attached to a small stick. When the culprit was stripped to the waist and tied to the flagstaff, the drummers took turns in applying the "cat" to the bare back.[237]

Other officers used less painful methods. Thus, Major Loomis was known as "Old Ring", since his favorite punishment was to place a log of wood upon the prisoner's shoulder and compel him to walk around and around in a circle under the vigilant eye of a sentinel. To Major John Bliss, who was in command at Fort Snelling from 1833 to 1836, the name "Black Starvation" might well have been applied. The negro servant, Hannibal, who clandestinely sold spruce beer to the soldiers was confined in the Black Hole for forty-eight hours; and Private Kelly, who refused to do his part in the fatigue party spent more than seventy-two hours in the Black Hole before the pangs of starvation persuaded him to promise Major Bliss to be good in the future.[238] On one occasion, which may be taken as typical of usual conditions, out of a total garrison of three hundred and twenty-nine, twenty-six were confined in prison. But at another time the commanding officer could report: "No Convicts at this Post".[239]

The severity of the military rules and the monotony of the life led to two undesirable consequences—mutinies and desertions. Of the former there is apparently no description, and the brief entry in Taliaferro's diary for February 3, 1831, leaves much to the imagination: "Mutiny of Most of the Troops of the 1st Infantry, Stationed at Fort Snelling this Morning".[240] What grievances led to the uprising on that wintry day, and by what diplomacy or by what punishments it was put down, are unrecorded.

Concerning the extent of desertions there is specific information regarding three years. Desertion was prevalent in the army at this time, and in order to provide methods of combating it the Secretary of War presented to Congress a great deal of information covering the years from 1823 to 1825.[241] During these three years there were stationed at Fort Snelling an aggregate of two hundred and fifty-one soldiers in 1823; three hundred and thirty-five in 1824; and two hundred and forty-six in 1825.[242] Of these, six deserted in 1823, eight in 1824, and twenty-nine in 1825. In this total of forty-three desertions, fifteen left in their first year of service, seventeen in the second, eighteen in the third, one in the fourth, and two in the fifth. Interesting facts regarding the kind of men who lived at the old frontier post can be gleaned from the data presented. Most of them were between the ages of twenty-one and thirty. In occupation there were laborers, farmers, painters, shoemakers, papermakers, wheelwrights, jewellers, and brewers. Among these forty-three, twenty-six were born in the United States, five in Ireland, two in Scotland, one in France, one in Holland, and one in Canada.

The soldier who sought freedom by stealthily climbing over the stone wall of Fort Snelling and appropriating some canoe drawn up on the river bank, left monotony and discipline behind him; but in doing so he faced many dangers. There was no settlement nearer than Prairie du Chien—a military establishment. Indians were not afraid to injure those whom they knew to be deserters. A certain man by the name of Dixon who deserted was captured by Indians who brought him back to Fort Snelling and received a reward of twenty dollars. Dixon was court-martialed and sentenced to receive fifty lashes from the "cat" and then to be drummed out of the Fort.[243] Four soldiers who escaped were killed by the Indians of Red Wing's band, and their bodies were left on the shores of Lake Pepin, where they were later found half-eaten by the birds.[244]

Sickness and death reduced the number on duty at the post. From the doctor the sick received professional aid. In 1826 when the force at Fort Snelling amounted to three hundred and twenty-nine men there were in the hospital one subaltern, one non-commissioned officer, one musician, and fifteen privates. That Fort Snelling was at a healthful location is indicated by the fact that during the same period at Fort Atkinson, with a force of only one hundred more, there was a total of one hundred and twenty-five sick persons.[245]

The number of deaths was proportionately small. In the year ending on September 30, 1823, there was only one death; the next year the toll was the same; and in 1825 it amounted to five.[246] On the occasion of a funeral six men, detailed from those of the same rank as the deceased, carried the coffin to the little cemetery outside the fort. A salute was fired over the grave and the band played solemn music, the drums being covered with black crepe. The mounds in the cemetery, unmarked by any stones, were soon obliterated; but if the departed soldier had been a cheerful companion his barrack-songs were missed by his comrades, and many friends, half-way across a continent, would mourn for one who was lying in an unknown grave, "somewhere in the West".[247]

On account of monotonous drills and tedious routine, any pretext to go into the Indian country was hailed with delight. The bustle, excitement, and troubles connected with the departure of these expeditions are best described by Mrs. Seth Eastman, who as the wife of the commanding officer had often waved farewell to the departing company.[248]

"Now for excitement, the charm of garrison life. Officers are of course always ready to 'go where glory waits' them, but who ever heard of one being ready to go when the order came?

"Alas! for the young officer who has a wife to leave; it will be weeks before he meets again her gentle smile!

"Still more—alas for him who has no wife at all! for he has not a shirt with buttons on it, and most of what he has are in the wash. He will have to borrow of Selden; but here's the difficulty, Selden is going too, and is worse off than himself. But no matter! What with pins and twine and trusting to chance, they will get along.

"Then the married men are inquiring for tin reflectors, for hard bread, though healthy, is never tempting. India rubber cloaks are in requisition too.

"Those who are going, claim the doctor in case of accidents. Those who stay, their wives at least, want him for fear of measles; while the disciple of Esculapius, though he knows there will be better cooking if he remain at home, is certain there will be food for fun if he go. It is soon decided—the doctor goes.

"Then the privates share in the pleasure of the day. How should a soldier be employed but in active service? besides, what a capital chance to desert! One, who is tired of calling 'All's well' through the long night, with only the rocks and trees to hear him, hopes that it will be his happy fate to find out there is danger near, and to give the alarm. Another vows, that if trouble wont come, why he will bring it by quarrelling with the first rascally Indian he meets. All is ready. Rations are put up for the men;—hams, buffalo tongues, pies and cake for the officers. The batallion marches out to the sound of the drum and fife;—they are soon down the hill—they enter their boats; handkerchiefs are waved from the fort, caps are raised and flourished over the water—they are almost out of sight—they are gone."

Apart from these trips abroad and the stated drills and terms of guard duty the tasks which occupied the time of the soldiers depended upon the season of the year. A general order of September 11, 1818, had commanded the making of gardens at all the military posts.[249] In the fall of 1819 when the temporary cabins at New Hope Cantonment had been built, the soldiers began ploughing for the crop of the next summer.[250] Major Long, in 1823, found two hundred and ten acres under cultivation—one hundred of wheat, sixty of maize, fifteen of oats, fourteen of potatoes, and twenty acres in gardens.[251] All through the history of Old Fort Snelling the soldiers were employed as farmers. A visitor in 1852 observed that "its garrison is rather deficient in active employment, and we noticed a number of the rank and file taking exercise in a large corn and vegetable field attached to the Fort. It was certainly not exactly soldierly employment, but it was more manly, to our mind, than shooting and stabbing at $8 a month, and no question asked."[252]

For the horses and cattle kept at the fort a great deal of hay was necessary for the winter months. This was obtained from the broad prairies of the military reservation. A group of men called the "Hay Party" were employed during the summer in cutting and stacking the long grass. But one officer was of the opinion that this task caused discontent—the enlisted man was no more than a common laborer and hence he lost the pride of a soldier.

The diverse tasks at which a soldier might be called to labor are indicated by a summary of the employment of the troops in 1827. Seven soldiers were acting as teamsters, five were performing carpenters' duties, two were quarrying stone, two men and a sergeant composed the party guarding the mills at the Falls of St. Anthony, and eight others were "Procuring forage by order of Col. Snelling".[253]

Summer brought its own pleasures as well as duties. At Lake Calhoun, Lake Harriet, Lake of the Isles, and Minnehaha Falls, many were the picnics held when visitors came to the garrison.[254] Swan, geese, and ducks were numerous about the lakes and swamps, and with the famous hunter H. H. Sibley as a guide, the game bags were soon filled. During a period of three years, Mr. Sibley, alone, shot 1798 ducks—a fact which indicates what success a soldier-sportsman could have in his few hours of recreation.[255]

But it was when the prairies were impassable because of drifts of snow from six to fifteen feet high,[256] and when the course of the river could be traced only by a streak of white between the gray of its wooded banks that there appeared those features which are peculiar to the life of a remote garrison. The isolation was almost complete. There was no traffic upon the frozen river, and the traders were wintering in the Indian villages. Only through the mail was communication with the outside world possible. It was planned to have a monthly mail service, soldiers being sent to Prairie du Chien with the letters. Here they delivered about two-thirds of the mail to the persons to whom it was addressed and the rest was deposited in the post office.[257]

In summer the mail was carried by the soldiers in canoes, but in winter the journey had to be made on foot. In summer the labor was lightened when a passing steamer overtook the rowing soldiers and picked up the canoe with its crew. In winter no such aid was possible. A hard day's tramp was followed by a night among the drifts, unless the tepee of some friendly Indian gave a temporary respite for a few hours.[258]

Nor was this task free from perils. A system was arranged whereby a courier from Fort Snelling and one from Prairie du Chien set out at about the same time, meeting at Wabasha's village where the packs were exchanged and each returned to his own post. On one occasion a spring thaw overtook the carrier from Prairie du Chien, who had proceeded beyond the meeting place because the messenger from the north was late. Suddenly the ice groaned and cracked, and the postman with difficulty found safety on a small island where, to his great surprise, he found the postman from Fort Snelling who had been caught in the same manner. Their provisions soon gave out; for a while they had only rose-apples to eat. It was not until almost two weeks later that the two half-starved messengers were picked up by the canoes of some friendly Sioux.[259]

Such accidents rendered the mail service uncertain, and it was with impatience that the watchers at the fort looked down the river for the coming of the news-carriers. On April 2, 1831, Taliaferro wrote: "The Express departed—4 men in a Skiff—to convey the Mail to the Post Office at Prairie du Chiens—our return Express daily expected." But they hoped too early and on April 5th it was recorded that "Our Express—1st which left for Prairie du Chiens on the 2d of March—has now been Absent more than a Month & progressing in the Seccond. We have not had inteligence from Washington City—since the 6th of December last". Not until April 10th did the mail arrive. But even when the messengers were safe in the fort it was not certain that they brought what was so eagerly looked for, as the entry on February 27th clearly shows: "Lieut Williams & Mr Bailly returned this eveng from Prairie du Chiens but brought no Mail there having been no arrival since December."[260] It was during this winter that even Prairie du Chien was shut off from the outside, the amount of snow between Peoria and Prairie du Chien stopping the mail service for two months. Again and again during the winter months the commanding officer complained to headquarters that "no Orders have been received within the Month".[261]

The duties of the soldiers during the winter were few. From the time it was built up to 1833 the quarters at Fort Snelling were heated by fireplaces. At that time, however, stoves were substituted.[262] Wood was used for fuel—to obtain which was a never-ending task in winter. When Captain Seth Eastman was in command at various periods from 1844 to 1848 the garrison had to go from eight to ten miles for wood. The banks of the Minnesota River were bordered by a forest varying from one hundred to three hundred yards wide; but by 1858 all of this for a distance of twelve miles had been cleared off.[263]

Colonel John H. Bliss, who was a boy at Fort Snelling when his father was in command during the thirties, wrote that the winters "were undeniably tedious, but had their uses; we had a good library, and I read a great deal, which has stood by me well; then there was of course much sociability among the officers, and a great deal of playing of cards, dominoes, checkers, and chess. The soldiers, too, would get up theatrical performances every fortnight or so, those taking female parts borrowing dresses from the soldiers' wives, and making a generous sacrifice to art of their cherished whiskers and mustaches."[264]

During October, 1836, Inspector General George Croghan visited Fort Snelling, and on the evening of the seventh of the month the Thespian Players presented Monsieur Tonson in his honor. And here, far from city streets and French barbers, on a rude stage, Jack Ardourly fell in love with the beautiful Adolphine de Courcy—who probably only a few hours before had been hurrying to finish a task of cleaning guns so that she could call on the generous women of the garrison and beg from them capes and bonnets and hoops skirts![265]

Many of the officers were graduates of West Point, and their wives were from the best families of the East and South. On January 20, 1831, the ladies and gentlemen of the garrison had a party at the fort. "The room was tastefully decorated—- and the evening passed pleasantly". On February 22nd of the same year the quarters of the commanding officer were the scene of another party in commemoration of Washington's birthday.[266]

Efforts were made to provide for the education of the children of the fort. Mrs. Snelling at first taught her own children; but it is evident that there was soon a tutor, as the correspondence of Colonel Snelling shows that John Marsh received his board and seventy-five dollars for acting as tutor during the winter of 1823-1824. This schoolmaster also carried the mail to Prairie du Chien in return for forty dollars.[267] Soon after the appointment of a regular chaplain in 1838 the post school was more thoroughly organized.[268]

Occasionally there was some excitement at the fort. During the month of February in 1831 there was an epidemic of fires. First, the officers row of buildings caught on fire in the room of Lieutenant Greenough on February 10th. On the next day a second fire broke out; and on February 24th the agency house took fire both from the inside and the outside in such a manner that it was evident that an incendiary had been at work.[269]

But such events were of unusual occurrence. A letter written at Fort Snelling on February 11, 1842, pictures the usual winter life. "We of the garrison are as usual at this season rather dull, stale & unprofitable—small parties for Tea are a good deal the fashion, & tattle is used as formerly. Indian Ball plays are coming in season. One comes off today in which stacks of property are to be invested. The Sioux have been hunting about Rum River this winter and have killed great numbers of Dear—Our winter has been mild, one day only 30 below zero, and the rest comfortable.... Tonight Mumford gives a Soiree to the good folks of the garrison and this is the most exciting event of the week. What is the use of writing to you as I cannot find enough wherewith to fill two pages."[270]

Such close confinement was tolerable when the garrison was composed of congenial spirits, but occasionally it brought about dissensions and quarrels. Taliaferro on one occasion wrote that the "Society here is not in the most pleasant State from a System of tatling which has been reduced to a Science—not to be envied."[271] Occasionally open encounters took place. One soldier stabbed another with a butcher's knife, and the victim died.[272] In February, 1826, two officers of the garrison engaged in a duel.[273] Even those in authority were not free from participation in these "affairs of honor". A certain young officer challenged Colonel Snelling, and upon his refusing, his son, William Joseph Snelling, accepted and was slightly wounded. When the officer was court-martialed he accused one of the witnesses of being an infidel. Whereupon the latter challenged the officer in his turn, and a second duel was fought—which was bloodless.[274]

With such conditions prevailing during the winter months it is no wonder that from day to day spring was eagerly looked for. Undoubtedly it was a happy occasion when the agent could record on the evening of Sunday, March 27, 1831, that the weather was "more pleasant—Wild geese seen this day—gentlemen generally [illegible] out and Walking—The Ladies also".[275] It meant a speedy return of summer pleasures and summer visitors. For when, even at a remote military post did these fail as three sure signs of spring—pleasant weather, flocks of geese, and ladies and gentlemen out walking together?

They were very human, those men and women of Old Fort Snelling.



VII

THE FORT AND INDIAN LIFE

It was a humane but visionary plan which Reverend Jedidiah Morse in 1822 presented to the Secretary of War as the correct method of procedure in the task of civilizing the Indians. At various centers in the Indian country were to be established "Education Families"—groups of honest, industrious whites who were to have houses and farms, where the natives could observe their activities. And without any forcing it was expected that the red men, seeing the superior advantages of civilization, would be themselves gradually transformed.[276]

To the north and east of Fort Snelling was the home of the Chippewa or Ojibway Indians—extending from the Mississippi to the Great Lakes. To the west, on the great prairies, the Dakota, or Sioux Indians lived and hunted. The veteran missionary, S. W. Pond, estimated that the five bands of Sioux, which most often came into direct touch with the government at Fort Snelling, numbered in 1834, seven thousand, and wandered over southern Minnesota and South Dakota, near the lakes of Big Stone and Traverse.[277] Major Taliaferro reported in 1834 that the number of Indians in his agency was 6721, and that they extended as far as the Sheyenne fork of the Red River.[278] To one man, the agent, was given the task of civilizing these thousands of Sioux. While it was for this tribe that the agency at Fort Snelling was established, yet the Chippewas often frequented its headquarters. One hundred and seventy warriors of these northern Indians arrived at the agent's house on the evening of August 4, 1830.[279] The presence of these red men more than doubled the work of the agent, because there was now the difficulty of keeping peace between two warring tribes.

Indian life was not so worthless as sometimes pictured. It is true that one could see laziness and poverty during the months of January and February, if he came upon an Indian village pitched near a wooded slope and above a frozen stream. There could be seen the smoke curling from the dingy tepee, the women dragging home wood for the ever-diminishing pile outside the door, and a few of the hardier men fishing through holes in the ice. About the tepee the snow was banked, and within the air was warm and heavy from the open fire and the long pipes of the reclining braves, who gambled with their neighbors at the game of "the shot and the mitten".

Thus through the two stormy months the Indians frittered away the time, eating their corn and wild rice seasoned with tallow. But when the first thaws of spring caused the sap in the maple trees to run, and when some of the more venturesome came back from a winter visit to the trading house with the word that the trader was waiting for skins in return for the blankets and ammunition he had given them the preceding fall, the village divided—part going to the sugar bush, and part going to the prairie lakes and swamps for muskrats. In May they returned on the swollen streams with heavily freighted canoes to their villages of bark houses. During the summer there were many tasks—blue berries to be gathered in the woods, canoes to be built, tepees to be repaired, turnips to be dug, and pipestone to be brought from the far distant quarry. All through the hot months the women toiled in the corn fields; and when the corn was in the milk, all the village children screamed and waved their arms to frighten away the blackbirds. When the harvest had been carefully placed in bark barrels and buried, part of the village had already left to hunt the fox or gather wild rice along the lakes and cranberries in the marshes.

And now came October and the deer hunt. There were only the extremely old people and the invalids to wave good-bye as the procession set out over the prairie—old men who could scarcely walk, bands of shouting children, hunters already on the alert, women with their bundles, and horses and dogs dragging on two poles the provisions and the skins of the tepees. For more than two months the program was the same: the march through the drifts and across the icy rivers, the morning council about a blazing fire before scattering over the prairie, and the triumphal return of the successful hunter at evening with the carcass of a bear, deer, or elk, across his shoulders and his name shouted through the camp by the children gathered to welcome him. By January they were all back again at their villages.[280]

It was this scheme of life which was to be gradually transformed. There were, of course, variations when war parties crept against the Chippewas, when drunken debaucheries resulted from a keg of whiskey that had escaped the vigilant eyes of the soldiers, and when migrations to the Canadian posts were prompted by the hope that there they could obtain enough supplies to support them without work and that there they could enjoy some ceremony to break the monotony of life. But these migrations were few on the part of the Sioux: they could enjoy councils just as good near home.

On the occasion of a visit to Old Fort Snelling and the agency near by, the authorities were careful to see that there was a due amount of ceremony. Probably a whole band of Indians would come down from the headwaters of the Minnesota River. Their chiefs and braves gathered in the log Council Hall, and there took place the scene so picturesquely described by the eccentric traveller, J. C. Beltrami.

"The council-hall is, as it ought to be, a great room built of trunks of trees. The flag of the United States waves in the centre, surrounded by English colours, and medals hung to the walls. They are presented by the Indians to their Father, the agent, as a proof that they abjure all cabal or alliance with the English. Pipes, or calumets and other little Indian presents, offered by the various tribes as pledges of their friendship, decorate the walls and give a remarkable and characteristic air to the room." The dignitaries of the post are seated about a table and the braves recline upon the ground during the council.

"The seance opens with a speech of the chief, who rises and addresses the agent. He generally begins with the Great Spirit, or the sun, or the moon 'whose purity is equalled by that of his own heart,' &c. &c. always finishing with a petition for presents;—whiskey is sure to find honourable mention: these are what English lawyers call the common counts."[281]

After the reply of the agent the peace pipe was solemnly passed from one to another, and the council ended with the distribution of presents. These presents were of tobacco, gunpowder, vermilion, pipes, kettles, blankets, snuff-boxes, armbands, looking-glasses, horse bells, jews'-harps, ivory combs, and shawls.[282] Not the least popular of these were the jews'-harps, which had their uses—in spite of the sarcastic invective delivered against them by Senator Benton in 1822 when the abolition of the Factory System was being considered. "They were innocent", observed the Senator, "and on that account precisely adapted to the purposes of the superintendent, in reclaiming the savage from the hunter state. The first state after that, in the road to refined life, is the pastoral, and without music the tawny-colored Corydons and the red-skinned Amaryllises, 'recubans sub tegmine fagi,' upon the banks of the Missouri and Mississippi, could make no progress in the delightful business of love and sentiment."[283]

These councils were frequent occurrences, and their importance lies in the fact that through them certain principles could be instilled into the minds of the natives under the most favorable circumstances. The words spoken by the agent on these occasions had probably as much effect in controlling the Indians as a like number of bullets would have had. Major Taliaferro has recorded one of the orations which he delivered to his listening wards. He referred to the presence of the Great Spirit, told of his long service among them, eulogized their departed elders—"the old branches which have fallen from the Trunk of the old oak of your Nation"—and then inserted a few wise admonitions as to the futility of their wars with the Chippewas.

"Your Great Father", he said, "has had much to do with war—but his heart is changed for peace & he wishes all his red children as well as his white ones to follow his good example—he knows this course to be best for all—we should endeavor to please him—for by doing so we shall please the Great Spirit also—You will see your children growing up around you and your wives smiling as you approach from your days hunt."

The speech ended with the announcement of the coming of "something good from below" and an approaching visit to the village of the Red Head.[284]

During these meetings at the agency the sound of the fort's cannon and the sight of the well-uniformed guards impressed the Indians even more than did the words of the agent. There they became acquainted with white men other than traders, and when exploring and scientific expeditions came over the plains with a guard of soldiers, they were wise enough not to interfere. These visits in themselves were pleasant, and the rations of bread and pork offered an agreeable respite from their usual fare.[285]

At the time of the treaty of Prairie du Chien in 1825 one ration consisted of one pound of bread or one pint of corn and either one pound of beef or three-quarters of a pound of pork. This may be taken as a fair standard of the kind of rations issued at the agency.[286] It was during the winter months especially when starvation or suffering would otherwise result that this aid was given to the Indians. During the summer when other means of subsistence were present, all appeals for food were refused.[287] This custom of granting rations was formally incorporated in the law of June 30, 1834, with the only restriction that they were to be given only if "they can be spared from the army provisions without injury to the service".[288]

The condition of the tribes was often appalling, and many deaths would have occurred without this aid. At one time Taliaferro wrote that "400 Indians encamped near the Agency—many from a distance and in a starving condition."[289] Often he had to take from his own private funds, after he had drawn all he could from the public stores.[290] The winter of 1842-1843 was particularly severe. On the first of November the ground was covered with snow which as late as April still lay from two to two and a half feet deep. No hunting was possible because of the drifts, and fishing through the ice was impracticable, the wind blowing the holes full of snow as soon as they were cut. The Indians living about Lac qui Parle, about two hundred miles up the Minnesota River, came with the missionary Dr. Thomas Williamson to winter on the site of old Camp Cold Water, knowing that only from the fort could they obtain relief.

Everything that was possible was done. Blankets, guns, and ammunition to the value of $2500 were granted the Indians. Indeed, so many provisions were distributed that on April 3rd it was computed that there was only enough left to supply the garrison until the opening of navigation. The officers and soldiers saved all the remains from the tables and once a day the squaws and children were allowed to enter and receive these crumbs. The Indians who were away from the post were not neglected. Sixty bushels of corn and several barrels of pork were furnished by Major Dearborn to Mr. H. H. Sibley who sent them to destitute Indians on the Minnesota River. Still there was much suffering, for not enough food could be spared to satisfy all. Before spring arrived many of the Indians lived upon a syrup made of hickory chips and the boiled bark of the bitter sweet. All became greatly emaciated and some were unable to walk.[291]

From time to time a solitary Indian on a business visit to the trader would drop in to chat with the "Father". Here he could make any complaints which he had to offer and be sure of a sympathetic if not satisfactory answer. "I have had more than fourteen hundred Indians on visits from all Sections of this Agency during the Month past—and all with Grieveances of Some Sort to redress", wrote Taliaferro on June 30, 1838.[292] In all matters concerning lands, hunting, treaties, annuities, and the like, the Indian looked only to the agent for advice or explanation. Instigated by the traders, many of whom were hostile to him, the Indians considered him responsible for the acts of the soldiers.[293] If a provision of a treaty was not carried out, the Indians thought it was Taliaferro's fault "for they know nothing of Congress or of their Multifarious and protracted debates, and proceedings."[294]

A personal present was due the visitor at these "shake hands" occasions. If he were a headman or a brave he received a pound of powder, two pounds of lead, a fish line, a knife, four fish hooks, and six plugs of tobacco. If he were "any respectable Individual" he was sure of a knife, four fish hooks, and six plugs of tobacco.[295] These individual visits did much to acquaint the natives personally with the agent, in the same way that the council impressed them with the agent's great power.

But even more appreciated was the help offered in time of sickness. On December 25, 1830, Taliaferro records in his diary: "I rode up the SPeters to See an Indian.... Doctor Wood went up also—I dressed her wound—I Sent my Interpreter up with other restoratives—she being delerious."[296] On Saturday, June 28, 1834, there came to him a brave saying that both his son and daughter were ill. "Sent a message to Doct Jarvis to call & see the girl." The Sioux boy died two days later. But there the ministration did not end. To the mourners were given cotton and calico, or a blanket in order that the body might be decently covered.[297]

The dread scourge of smallpox raged in the vicinity of Fort Snelling during the summer of 1832. Two Indians coming from the Missouri River were suffering from violent attacks. Immediately the disease spread. But Dr. Wood, the post's physician, was called upon by Major Taliaferro and at the end of five days three hundred and thirty Sioux had been vaccinated. It is interesting to notice that in case the Indians came to the agency Dr. Wood received six dollars for every hundred he treated, but if he went to their villages he received six dollars per day.[298]

Besides these services the visits to the fort offered direct opportunity for the giving of tangible evidence of American supremacy. The English government had lavishly distributed signs of authority. During the first two years of his term of service, Taliaferro collected no less than thirty-six medals of George the Third, twenty-eight British flags, and eighteen gorgets.[299] Some of these were presented to the agent as direct evidence of submission to American authority. In 1820 two employees of the Missouri Fur Company were murdered on the Missouri River. The surrender of the murderers was demanded by Taliaferro, and while he was away the tribe came to Fort Snelling with one of the culprits and a hostage. Colonel Snelling, then acting as agent, described the scene in a letter.

"These unfortunate wretches were delivered up last evening with a great deal of ceremony, & I assure you with affecting solemnity; the guards being first put under arms, they formed a procession in the road beyond the bake house; in front marched a Sussitong bearing a British flag, next came the Murderer & the devoted chief, their arms pinioned & large splinters of wood thrust through them above the elbows, intended as I understood to show us that they did not fear pain & were not afraid to die. the Murderer wore a large British medal suspended to his neck & both of the prisoners bore offerings of skins, &c. in their hands. last came the chiefs of the Sussitongs, in this order they moved, the prisoners singing their death song & the Sussitongs joining in chorus until they arrived in front of the guard house where a fire being previously prepared, the British flag was burnt, and the medal worn by the murderer given up."[300]

In return for these greatly coveted signs of respect the agent delivered to the most prominent chiefs the medals and certificates of the United States. And thus by flattering the leaders control over the Indians was assured. What chief was not proud to carry with him this certificate, even if he could not read it himself? "The bearer The Whole in the day is a respectable Man, and wears a Seccond Size Monroe Medal Presented to him for his uniform Good Conduct and great attachment to the United States—His Residence is at Sandy Lake Law Taliaferro Indian Agent at St. Peters".[301]

But the memory of the days of English rule was still alive, the suggestion being made to the government that "the gordgets would be More Acceptable were they to be fashioned after those introduced formerly by the British Government—with the difference only of the Eagle engraved upon each."[302] To counteract this feeling it was necessary that the government should be lavish in the distribution of presents. British influence and example, wrote Taliaferro to Clark in 1831, were not yet "fairly purged of their baneful effects".[303] Even as late as 1834 a few extracts from the reports of Major Bliss indicate that this feeling was still noticeable. "The Sioux Indians expecting and favourable to an English war with the U. States", he wrote in April. The next month he reported "Sioux and Chippewas pacific but dissatisfied with U. States", and in July 1835 he informed headquarters that "the Chippewas & Sioux are dissatisfied & both exhibit symptoms of hostility to the U. States & to each other. The Sioux the most decided."[304]

English visitors at a much later period congratulated their government because the Indians, as they said, still had a greater fondness for the British than for the Americans.[305] Except, however, along the border, among the tribes outside of the sphere of the agent at Fort Snelling, this feeling manifested itself only as a sentiment which could lead to trouble if a break between the two nations should occur.

To emphasize the power of the Nation, the agent brought to Washington in 1824, and again in 1837, delegations of chiefs.[306] On these occasions they were taken to the largest and busiest cities, entertained in the most delightful manner, and shown the most impressive sights. As crowds were always drawn together to see the Indians, the latter received a lasting opinion as to the numbers of the Americans.[307] Previously the Sioux bands had thought that if ever they should unite their forces, they would be able to win in a war against all the whites; but now they were disillusioned.[308]

Undoubtedly the Indians were pleased with their journey. "Since the treaty was signed", stated a contemporary newspaper, "each of them has received a coat, hat, blanket, leggins, epaulettes, bands, and scarfs, and when dressed in full uniform, they exhibit more lively pleasure than would have been expected from the apathy of Indian character."[309] The magnificence which they had seen was described amid the squalor of their home villages. "The effect produced by the visit of their chiefs to Washington is wonderful, since their return, the power, wealth, and numbers of the American people have been their constant themes, many of their stories approach so near the marvellous as to be discredited, such for example is the account of casting a cannon which they witnessed, and the magnitude of our ships. Old black dog shakes his head & says 'all travellers are liars'."[310] The memory of these trips lingered long. Little Crow came to call upon the agent in 1831. "The old chief left much delighted with his reception and my Talk—he departed singing the song which was often repeated when on his trip to Washington City in 1824."[311]

The Indians touched by these relations with the fort were not only its immediate neighbors. The surrender of murderers from the tribes on the Missouri has been noted. On March 11, 1831, Taliaferro wrote that "I observe Indians from the Missouri & various sections of the Sioux country."[312] During the entire winter of 1831, a party of Missouri River Indians encamped about Fort Snelling.[313] The Indians on the prairies were wide travellers. "There are a good many Indians about here", says a letter from Lac qui Parle. "There have arrived 120 lodges of Missouri at Lake Traverse and 200 lodges at James River."[314] By this continual movement, the influence of Fort Snelling was enlarged.

How great was this influence? No one has contradicted the statement of Mr. Taliaferro that "it is due the Sioux of your territory to record one fact as to them, and that is, from the commencement of our agency to its close, our frontier pioneers were never even molested in their homes, nor did they shed one drop of American blood".[315] It was when this frontier encroached on their lands that hostility broke out. If the Indians had been left in peace by covetous land-seekers, their civilization might in time have been accomplished.

There was practically no hostility manifested against the garrison by the surrounding Indians. In January, 1822, Colonel McNeil, who was in command at Fort Dearborn, received word from John Kinzie, the pioneer Chicago trader, that the Sioux and Fox Indians were planning an attack on Fort Snelling. Lieutenant James Webb immediately volunteered to bring the news to Fort Armstrong on Rock Island, from whence it could be sent to the upper post. After a journey rendered terrible by the extreme cold and the danger from hostile Indians, he was successful in reaching Fort Armstrong.[316]

In due time the letter was delivered to Colonel Snelling. "When I first received Col McNeils letter," he wrote later, "I was disposed to smile at the absurdity of connecting the Sioux & Foxes, in a design to attack this post". But he later found out that the Foxes had sent wampum and tobacco to the bands of Wabasha and Little Crow, asking them not to stand in the way of any movements they might make. Wabasha accepted the wampum but Little Crow came to the fort to make known the danger. The vagueness of the rumors, however, made it impossible to act, and later developments showed that there was no truth in the report—at least no violence was attempted.[317]

Fear of the strength of the fort prevented hostilities. It was the Indian fashion to attack by ambush. They did not have the patience to endure a protracted siege. The Americans did not belittle the strength of the military works. Little Thunder and White Head, two Indians who had escaped from the jail at Mackinac by cutting through the log walls, met an American, George Johnson, at Lac du Flambeau. They were very inquisitive about the strength of Fort Snelling and the number of Americans stationed there. Regarding this incident the white man wrote: "I answered saying, that the fort at River St. Peters was as strong as Quebec, and more Americans there than in any other post."[318]

The government did not adopt Dr. Morse's plan for civilizing the Indians, but the agent tried to carry out the policy therein suggested. The colony at Eatonville, located on Lake Calhoun, and the Indian schools soon passed into the hands of the missionaries. After the making of treaties a blacksmith shop was added to the agency. In line with his policy of providing for all classes of Indians, Taliaferro urged the erection of an orphan asylum where "all poor blind, and helpless women" would also be accommodated.[319]

If time had been given doubtless a new form of Indian life would have arisen about the fort; but the coming of the land-seekers destroyed the plan. The failure was to result in a great massacre in 1862. This much at least can be said for Old Fort Snelling; it kept the Indians friendly while the foundations of American life were being laid in the Northwest.



VIII

THE SIOUX-CHIPPEWA FEUDS

One of the reasons given for the building of Fort Snelling was that it would prevent the disastrous wars existing between the Sioux and Chippewa Indians.[320] Beginning so far in the past that no cause could be ascribed for the hostility, each encounter was in itself both the result of preceding conflicts and the excuse for further warfare. Pierre Esprit de Radisson, who was the first writer to leave an account of the Chippewas, said that even at the time of his visit in about 1660 they were carrying on "a cruell warre against the Nadoueseronoms [Sioux]."[321]

Lurking in the bushes to waylay their enemies on the woodland paths, hiding on the river banks to intercept hostile canoes, pretending peace and enjoying hospitality in order to have an opportunity for treachery were the military tactics of the Sioux and Chippewa warriors. To prevent such warfare, a military post was almost powerless. In fact, so insidious was the hostility that even the very grounds of Fort Snelling were the scene of bloody encounters.

Attempts were made to keep the Chippewas away from Fort Snelling by attaching them to the agency of H. R. Schoolcraft at Sault Ste. Marie.[322] But the distance was so great and the route so difficult that the Chippewas did not make the journey to consult that agent. On the other hand, Fort Snelling was so close, and the Mississippi such a natural outlet from their country, that a trader declared that "you might as well try to Stop the Water in the Mississippi from going to St Louis, as attempt to keep the Chippeway Indians from St Peters."[323]

During the last days of the month of May, 1827, Flat Mouth, chief of the Sandy Lake band of Chippewa Indians was encamped near Fort Snelling. A number of men, women, and children were with him, bringing maple sugar, which they had gathered in the northern woods during the winter, and other articles to sell to the garrison. Major Taliaferro was away at the time, but on May 24th the steamboat "Pilot" landed him safely at Fort Snelling. To welcome their "Father" home, and perchance to see if he had any presents or promises for them, a large number of Sioux came from their villages to the fort, as was usual on such occasions. The agent took the opportunity presented by the presence of both Sioux and Chippewas to deliberate with them in regard to peace, and also to request the Chippewas not to visit Fort Snelling again, in accordance with instructions which he had received from the Indian Department. To this Flat Mouth replied sorrowfully: "I feel myself now like a Dog driven away from your door to find another—I am ashamed of this—but I know you are doing this not by your wish."[324]

The twenty-eighth day of the month proved the value of the advice Major Taliaferro had given. Several Sioux came to visit at a Chippewa lodge pitched directly under and in front of the agency house on the flats that border the Minnesota River. The guns of the fort could easily have been trained upon the spot. There was feasting and friendly revelry at the lodge that afternoon and evening. Meat, corn, and sugar were served in wooden platters; a dog was roasted and eaten. The peace pipe was smoked, and the conversation was peaceful regarding exploits in the hunt and the chase.

At nine o'clock when the party broke up, as the Chippewas were calling friendly good-byes to the departing Sioux who had advanced a few steps, the latter turned and fired into the midst of the unsuspecting inhabitants of the tepee. There was instant confusion. With a shout of triumph the Sioux ran off. The sentinel on the hill above heard the shots and cries and called for the guard. In a few moments there was at the gate of the fort a crowd of panic-stricken Chippewas carrying their wounded and crying for protection. Six men, one woman, and a girl about eight years old were handed over to the surgeon of the post, Doctor McMahon.

Immediately Major Taliaferro notified the Sioux that they had insulted the flag that waved over the land, and that ample satisfaction must be made to the Chippewas who had been treated in such a cowardly manner. In council with the agent, Strong Earth, a chief of the Chippewas, complained of the lack of protection: "Father: You know that two Summers ago we attended a Great Council at Prairie du Chien, when by the advice of Our White Friends, we made Peace with the Sioux—We were then told, that the Americans would Guarantee our Safety under their Flags—We have Come here under that Assurance. But Father, look at Your Floor it is stained with the blood of our people shed while under Your Walls. If you are great and powerful why do You not protect us? If Not, of what use are Your Soldiers?"[325]

On the morning following the massacre a large body of Sioux—estimated at about three hundred and fifty—appeared on the prairie west of the fort. Brevet Major Fowle was ordered to march against them with two companies. Upon his appearance they fled, but he followed and was successful in capturing some of them. Nine Sioux—one of whom Major Taliaferro reports was given up voluntarily—were delivered up to the Chippewas. Identifying two of these as being among the murderers, they requested permission to execute them immediately.

Upon the broad prairie the two prisoners were given their freedom. They were told to run, and when a few paces away the Chippewa warriors fired, and the Sioux fell dead. Then followed a hideous scene which a spectator described many years later. "The bodies, all warm and limp, are dragged to the brow of the hill. Men who at the sight of blood, become almost fiends, tear off the reeking scalps and hand them to the chief, who hangs them around his neck. Women and children with tomahawks and knives cut deep gashes in the poor dead bodies, and scooping up the hot blood with their hands, eagerly drink it; then, grown frantic, they dance, and yell, and sing their horrid scalp songs, recounting deeds of valor on the part of their brave men, and telling off the Sioux scalps, taken in different battles, until tired and satiated at last with their horrid feast, they leave the mutilated bodies—festering in the sun."[326] At evening the bodies were thrown over the cliff into the river below.

On the morning of the thirty-first the Sioux delivered up to the Chippewas two others who, they claimed, had been the principal men in the affair. If the Chippewas did not shoot them, they said, they would do it themselves, as trouble had come to their nation on their account. But the Chippewas were willing.

About this second execution there has grown up an interesting story. One of the offenders, Toopunkah Zeze, was a favorite among the children of the fort. Tall and handsome and athletic and brave, he was the ideal of Indian manhood. The other, called the Split Upper Lip, was well known as a thief, and was as much detested as his companion was respected. He cried and begged for his life, saying that his gun had missed fire—he had killed no one. The other calmly distributed his clothes among his friends, upbraiding his companion for his cowardice. "You lie, dog. Coward, old woman, you know that you lie. You know that you are as guilty as I am. Hold your peace and die like a man—die like me."