Narratives of the Sioux war Read online

  Narratives of the Sioux war

  Satterlee, Marion P

  Minnesota Historical Society

  This book made available by the Internet Archive.

  ing, "We need the money," was the demand, "We want the land ;' ' and a few reckless promises, more or less, given to Indians made no difference—few were recorded.

  Lest this appear pessimistic, it is well to explain that it was hard to deal reasonably with these strange people who claimed the land. As said by Rev. Samuel W. Pond, "They were not models for imitation, neither were they properly objects of contempt." Those who care to investigate will find many reasons for the outbreak of 1862, but the essential facts are, that the Indians were obnoxious to and in the way of the whites, were preyed upon by conscienceless traders and boot-legging liquor-sellers, and were neglected by the government and its agents, till at last long smothered anger and acute hunger produced a storm that broke in fury, the opening event of which was the murders at Acton on Sunday, the 17th day of August, 1862.

  In Acton township, Meeker county, on section 21, lived Robinson Jones, postmaster, Indian trader, and farmer. He was married to Mrs. Ann Baker the previous year, on January 14; but through some error her name appears as Ann Baker on the monument erected over the remains of the victims at Ness Cemetery. Living with them was Jones' niece, Clara D. Wilson, aged fifteen years, and her half brother, eight months old. The house was a two-story log building overlooking a marshy lake on the south, and was surrounded by heavy timber known as the Acton Woods, a part of the once famous "Big Woods." The Pembina-Henderson trail passed at the back of the house and along the west side.

  About a half mile southeast of this place was a cabin of small size occupied by Howard Baker, a son of Mrs. Jones by a former marriage. His family consisted of ,a wife and two small children, and stopping with them on this day were Mr. and Mrs. Viranus Webster, who had a day or two before come from Wisconsin and were looking for a homestead. The house faced south and was surrounded by timber, and the above mentioned trail ran a few feet in front of the house from east to west. A monument, commemorating the "First Bloodshed of the Massacre," was erected in 1909 on the site of this cabin.

  On the 10th of August, twenty Indians of the Shokpay (Shakopee) band left the Lower Agency on the Minnesota river

  to hunt in the Big Woods and were divided into several parties. About nine o'clock on this Sunday morning, six of these Indians appeared at the Jones residence and made the usual demands for something to eat, and no doubt wanted whiskey in addition, as they knew that Jones kept it for sale. Chief Big Eagle, in an account given in Volume VI of this Society's Collections, names four of these Indians, as follows: Sungigidan (Brown Wing), Ka-om-de-i-ye-ye-dan (Breaking up), Nagi-wi-cak-te (Killing Ghost), and Pa-zo-i-yo-pa (Runs against something when crawling). Rev. S. W. Pond names two more; Hdinapi and Wam-du-pi-dan, as taking part. This treacherous pair had married into the Shokpay band. All of the six claimed the distinction of doing the killing, and all probably did shed blood, as five people were shot down, four of them within a few seconds of time. With the honor goes the disgrace of causing the loss of lands and money of all the Sioux in the state of Minnesota, and the massacre of about a thousand innocent people.

  One of these Indians had borrowed a gun from Jones the preceding spring, and had not returned it as agreed. This act might now be deemed a trivial matter, but it was not so when people lived largely by hunting and guns were not on sale. Jones was a stalwart man and had no fear of, or regard for, the Indians. He refused to give them anything, and entered into an altercation with them over the borrowed gun. The Indians became angry and left, going toward the cabin where the Baker and Webster families were living. Knowing that the newcomers would be alarmed at the appearance of the Indians, Jones locked up the house, leaving the niece and her brother inside, and, taking his gun, went over to the Baker cabin, his wife accompanying him.

  The Indians had made no demonstration when they arrived. Baker's little son had given them water, and the men had furnished them with tobacco ; but, when Jones came up, the quarrel over the gun was renewed and the Indians became very sullen. Finally, they wanted to trade guns, and incidentally to shoot at a mark. One of the Indians and Baker traded guns, the Indian paying three dollars boot in the trade. A target was fixed on an oak tree some six rods from the cabin, and a

  trial of guns was made. Afterward all returned to the house, the Indians immediately reloading as if they were going on hunting. Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Baker, with the two children, were in the house, and Baker, after hanging up his unloaded gun, stood in the doorway, leaning against the casing. Mrs. Webster was in the wagon near by, getting out some articles wanted, and Mr. Webster, who had not been shooting with the rest, was carrying the things to the house from the wagon. Jones, evidently suspicious of trouble, had stepped around the, corner of the house to reload his gun. One of the Indians walked a distance on the road toward the Jones place, and the others were about the cabin door. Suddenly one of them, carrying his gun across his elbow and standing near Mr. Baker at the door, shot him through without lifting the gun from his arm. Immediately the shooting was participated in by all the Indians. Mrs. Jones was shot while sitting just inside the door, Mr. Webster in the dooryard, and Jones, who ran toward the woods, endeavoring to load his gun as he went, was shot down near a corncrib about three rods from the house. Mrs. Baker had her youngest child in her arms and was either pushed or fell into the cellar through an open trap door, where she stayed until the Indians left. Mrs. Webster in her fright fell down in the covered wagon and was not molested, nor was the oldest child who lay on the bed in the cabin. After the shooting the Indians went north on the trail, and, in passing the house of Jones, caught sight of Clara Wilson, shot her to death through a window in the pantry, and then continued on out of the woods. There were left alive, of the three families, Mrs. Baker and two children, Mrs. Webster, and the baby boy at the Jones place.

  Contrary to all succeeding events of this kind, they did not mutilate the dead, nor steal or burn property, which leads to the conclusion that enmity toward Jones and his family was the real motive of the murders. They did not get any liquor at the Jones place, and liquor cannot be blamed for the tragedy, for the settlers found afterward that the house was not entered, nor the liquor kept there disturbed. The fact that Jones kept liquor and sold it to the Indians, led many of the settlers to think that the murders were simply the outcome of a

  drunken brawl, but that there was no outbreak of a general nature, and some were probably killed while delaying flight on this theory. There are many stories of Indians appearing at different places in the neighborhood during the same afternoon, and probably some of the band of twenty hunters did appear; but it is certain that the six who did the killing were the ones who soon after made a show of arms and stole a team of horses, with which they carried the news of the murders to Little Crow at the Lower Agency that night. The war for the extermination of the whites commenced at daybreak next morning.

  Four Indians came to the residence of Peter Wicklund, at Lake Elizabeth, a few miles from the Baker place, while the families of A. M. Ecklund, P. M. Johnson and Jonas Peterson were at dinner with the Wicklunds. Two came to a window and two at the door, and pointed their guns threateningly at the people. Mrs. Ecklund got up from the table and went to them, and, pushing their guns aside, demanded to know what they wanted. They told the men to come out as they wanted to talk with them. The men, four in number, went out with them a few rods from the house and were told that the Chip-pewa (Ojibway) Indians had murdered the Jones and Baker families at Acton. The settlers did not believe them and wen
t back to the house, and the Indians went away. On going to feed the stock that night, it was found that the team of Mr. Ecklund had been stolen. Indians riding double on two horses, with a third holding to each horse's tail and running, were seen that afternoon going toward the Agency.

  After the shooting at the Baker place, the women finally came from their places of concealment and cared for Jones, who lived for some time in such terrible agony that he tore up the ground in his death writhings. They took the two children and went to the residence of John Blackwell, about four miles west of the present Litchfield; but not finding anyone there, went to the home of Nels Olson and told their pitiful story. Ole Ingeman was at once sent as a messenger to Forest City, the county seat, with the news, and the settlers organized a party to go to the scene of the tragedy.

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  The party started from the Tver Jackson place, eleven in number, and, approaching the house from the east, they went up cautiously and called, if any were there alive, to "cry out," but received no response. It was about nine in the evening and the moon was shining, but it was dark in the woods. After a time they went into the house and lit a lamp, with which they found the bodies. They covered the body of Jones, which lay outside, with a wagon box to keep off animals, closed the door of the cabin where the other bodies were, and then debated the safety of going to the Jones place, where the children had been left, fearing that the Indians were there in a drunken carousal. They decided that it would not be advisable to go, and had started to return, when they were joined by another party of six, and as they were now seventeen, they determined to go.

  On arriving at the Jones place all was still, and entering the house, with the lamp which they had brought, they found Clara Wilson dead on the pantry floor, where she lay in a pool of blood. On their opening the door into a bedroom, the little boy got up from the bed and began to cry. The slug which killed the girl was found and kept for a number of years by Evan Evanson, a member of the party. Taking the boy, they returned to the Iver Jackson place, where the neighbors had assembled.

  The next morning settlers from all parts of the surrounding country gathered at the Baker place to bury the dead, and to consider this act of the Indians, whether it was mere murder, or if the long threatened outbreak had indeed begun. Rough boxes were made for the five bodies, and as they were about ready at noon to start for the Ness settlement, eleven mounted Indians appeared over the hill about forty rods to the southeast, coming toward the cabin, who on seeing the gathering stopped. Some of the men hailed them and started toward them, but apparently scenting danger they turned and fled to the south. They were followed to a marshy run which they rode through but the settlers could not cross. A party was then made up, among whom were J. B. Atkinson, A. H. DeLong, and James McGraw, who followed the Indians for several miles but could not overtake them.

  The bodies were then taken to the Ness settlement cemetery and buried, and the graves are now marked by a monument placed by the State. The day following the burial, the news of the massacre reached most of the settlers by means of a party escaping from the Agency, conducted by John Other Day, a friendly Indian, and the settlers gathered at Forest City, where a stockade was erected and a home guard company organized under Capt. George C. Whitcomb. However, many settlers in the county of Monongalia (the north half of the present Kandiyohi county) did not hear the news in time to escape, and nearly a hundred were killed by the Indians.

  THE BATTLE OF ACTON OR KELLY'S BLUFF.

  An English soldier said that "the glory of war, for the private, consists in getting killed in battle and having your name misspelled in the army reports." This was much the case of the Minnesota settler who fought off the Indians, either alone or in assisting army troops. Perhaps had the civil war been off the map of events, history might have been more kind. It was not for grand parade that citizens were asked to leave their families and go into the unknown districts to rescue friends and relatives from savages; on the contrary, it was to encounter certain hardship and suffering, and perhaps death in a terrible form. Neither was there then, as now, a floating population ready to enter the work from the love of excitement. These men were from the leading business houses and homes of Minneapolis, and they responded to the call of humanity in the same spirit as the "Boys of '76," when danger threatened their homes. They went out to meet a foe that knew no rules of war and gave no quarter in victory. We know now, that had Fort Ridgely fallen, every Indian tribe in the state would have been in war-paint and there would have been a question if the streets of our Twin Cities might not have flowed with blood as did those of New Ulm. While St. Paul's contingent went forth, led by the Indian fighter, General H. H. Sibley, the Minneapolis men were raw recruits, led by an inexperienced leader. It was a body of men to be proud of, who consented to face these conditions, stayed the tide of mur-

  der, and stopped the rush of settlers from the state. The band known as Strout's Company, including a part of his Company B, Ninth Minnesota Regiment, were about one third volunteer soldiers and two thirds citizens in and about Minneapolis.

  In keeping with the spirit of the times a song was written, commencing thus:

  "Brave Captain Strout and Company B,

  They will make the redskins flee,

  And drive them west into the sea,

  And stop the warwhoop forever.

  Chorus: The Union forever, hurrah, boys, hurrah, Kill every Indian, papoose and squaw; The Indians must be slain or driven to the plain And silence the warwhoop forever."

  While the meter and rhyme are somewhat irregular, the emotion is too plainly expressed to be mistaken, and the Indian warwhoop was "silenced forever," so far as Minnesota is concerned. It is endeavored here to collect the full data of this campaign of Indian fighters, and no pains have been spared to get the names, routes, camping spots, and dates, to a nicety, and accurate beyond dispute.

  General history is very mute regarding Captain Richard Strout and his men who fought off the Sioux Indians at Acton on September 3, 1862, for three reasons:

  First, the petty jealousy in public work, among leaders, including the printed abuse of a former Land Office appointee, who at the time pretty nearly directed the Indian war,— if you let him tell it.

  Second, the company was composed of citizens who went forth of their own accord, virtually a sheriff's posse, such as might be picked up now to arrest robbers. About twenty were newly enlisted, undrilled soldiers, and the rest civilians. This fact has kept the company out of military history, or, worse, "damned it with faint praise."

  Third, the "tee-hee" crowd, who saw an excruciatingly funny side to the Indian war, made these citizen soldiers the butt of much ridicule, despite the fact that, outnumbered more than four times, they beat off a savage foe, who later annihilated the idolized Custer and his unexcelled Indian-fighting soldiers. Add to this the efforts of misinformed writers, who,

  having no knowledge of the times, Indians, or pioneer conditions, have elaborated or twisted the story until a participant, as Private DeWitt C. Handy says, "has to scratch his head to remember if he was in the battle."

  It is true that these men w r ere not soldiers, and many were like A. H. Rose, who says, "I had never fired a gun before the battle, but they showed me how to load, and I pointed my gun at the Indians, shut my eyes, and pulled the trigger."

  These are the chief reasons that Captain Strout and Company B are almost unknown in their home city. Many parties are now dead, and harsh language is unbecoming; but only the tongue of slander can tell other than this: "Strout and his men went forth in good faith, and performed their duty boldly and without wavering, so far as they were able. '' For defense of this position read the story.

  On Sunday, August 17, 1862, five persons were massacred by Sioux Indians at Acton, in Meeker county. This outrage precipitated the celebrated Minnesota Sioux Indian War of that year. Word was received in Minneapolis the 19th, and following this came tidings from the Lower Agency that every person there had been killed, that
Company B, of the Fifth Minnesota, under Captain Marsh, had been ambushed and nearly all slaughtered, and that the Indians had commenced the long threatened "war of extermination." By the next day the refugees from near settlements came pouring through the city in mortal fear of Indians, panic-stricken, deserting everything and fleeing for life. Fears for the safety of relatives and friends on the frontier, and anger at the horrible outrages committed, created intense excitement. Sunday, the 24th, was a memorable time at the churches and public gatherings. It was decided that the state and citizens must act at once, and not wait for the slow moving general government, or the state would be depopulated and ruined.

  Leading in the earnest movement, Captain Strout, who was organizing a company for the Ninth Minnesota volunteers, was ordered to gather what he could of his company (the men were on leave preparatory to enter the service), enlist citizens for short term service, and report at Glencoe, McLeod county. On Tuesday the 26th, at noon, the company assembled at Bridge

  Square, on Nicollet avenue and Second street, about sixty men strong, not including teamsters. They were equipped with discarded, smooth-bore Austrian muskets, no uniforms, nor sufficient wagon train, but the captain had authority to impress teams as he might need them. Each member was given his complement of ball cartridge, and they marched away up the river, and camped in the northern part of Brooklyn township that night.

  The next morning a team owned by Andrew Smith was impressed from D. B. Thayer's threshing crew, at Osseo, and others were secured along the route till a good part of the men could ride. Wednesday night they camped at Monticello in Wright county, after a hard march. Thursday they made a fifteen-mile march, camping at night in Clearwater. Friday a march of thirty-five miles to Forest City ended at dusk. Sat-' urday they went by way of Greenleaf and Cedar Mills to Hutchinson, where they camped about the church. On the day's march they found one place where the people had fled leaving the table spread for a meal, at another the beds were thrown open as if flight had commenced in the night. But they saw no Indians, nor further signs.