1862-1863.—Military Commission.—Excited Community.—Dakotas Condemned.—Moving Camp.—The Campaign Closed.—Findings Sent to the President.—Reaching My Home in St. Anthony.—Distributing Alms on the Frontier.—Recalled to Mankato.—The Executions.—Thirty-eight Hanged.—Difficulty of Avoiding Mistakes.—Round Wind.—Confessions.—The Next Sabbath’s Service.—Dr. Williamson’s Work.—Learning to Read.—The Spiritual Awakening.—The Way It Came.—Mr. Pond Invited Up.—Baptisms in the Prison.—The Lord’s Supper.—The Camp at Snelling.—A Like Work of Grace.—John P. Williamson.—Scenes in the Garret.—One Hundred Adults Baptized.—Marvelous in Our Eyes.
1862-1863.—Military Commission.—Excited Community.—Dakotas Condemned.—Moving Camp.—The Campaign Closed.—Findings Sent to the President.—Reaching My Home in St. Anthony.—Distributing Alms on the Frontier.—Recalled to Mankato.—The Executions.—Thirty-eight Hanged.—Difficulty of Avoiding Mistakes.—Round Wind.—Confessions.—The Next Sabbath’s Service.—Dr. Williamson’s Work.—Learning to Read.—The Spiritual Awakening.—The Way It Came.—Mr. Pond Invited Up.—Baptisms in the Prison.—The Lord’s Supper.—The Camp at Snelling.—A Like Work of Grace.—John P. Williamson.—Scenes in the Garret.—One Hundred Adults Baptized.—Marvelous in Our Eyes.
No sooner had the white captives been brought over to our camp than, from various sources, we began to hear of Indian men who had maltreated these white women, or in some way had been engaged in the massacres of the border. On the morrow, General Sibley requested me to act as the medium of communication between these women and himself, inviting them to make known any acts of cruelty or wrong which they had suffered at the hands of Dakota men during their captivity. The result of this inquiry was the apprehension of several men who were still in the Sioux camp, and the organization of a military commission, composed of officers, to try such cases. Naturally, we supposed that men who knew themselves guilty would have fled to Manitoba with Little Crow. The greater number of such men had undoubtedly gone. But some were found remaining whohad participated in individual murders, some who had abused white women, and more who had been mixed up in the various raids made upon the white settlements.
When the wheels of this military commission were once put in motion, they rolled on as the victims were multiplied. Besides those who remained in the camp when the flight took place, and supposed that clemency would be meted out to them, several small parties of Sioux who had fled were pursued by our troops and “gobbled up,” as the camp phrase was. In all such cases the grown men were placed in confinement to await the ordeal of a trial. The revelations of the white women caused great indignation among our soldiers, to which must be added the outside pressure coming to our camp in letters from all parts of Minnesota,—a wail and a howl,—in many cases demanding the execution of every Indian coming into our hands. The result of these combined influences was that in a few weeks, instead of taking individuals for trial, against whom some specific charge could be brought, the plan was adopted to subject all the grown men, with a few exceptions, to an investigation of the commission, trusting that the innocent could make their innocency appear. This was a thing not possible in the case of the majority—especially as conviction was based upon an admission of being present at the battles of Fort Ridgely, New Ulm, Hutchinson, and Birch Coolie. Almost all the Dakota men had been at one or more of those places, and had carried their guns and used them. So that, of nearly four hundred cases which came before the commission, only about fifty were cleared, twenty were sentenced to imprisonment, and more than three hundred were condemned tobe hanged. The greater part of these were condemned on general principles, without any specific charges proved, such as under less exciting and excited conditions of society would have been demanded. They were Sioux Indians, and belonged to the bands that had engaged in the rebellion. Among those who were condemned to be hanged was a negro called Gusso. By the testimony of Indians, through fear or a liking to the business, he had rather signalized himself by the killing of white people. But he talked French, and could give what appeared to be accurate and reliable information in regard to a great many of the Dakotas who were brought before the commission. In consequence of this service, the commission recommended that his capital punishment be changed to imprisonment.
More than a month passed before the court had finished its work. In the meantime, we had changed our camp to the Lower Sioux Agency. From this point the women and children of the imprisoned men, together with such men as had escaped suspicion, were sent down under a military guard to Fort Snelling, where they, being about fifteen hundred souls, were kept through the winter.
At the close of their work, the military commission turned over their findings and condemnations to General Sibley for his approval. During the few days in which these passed under review, the principles on which the condemnations were based were often under discussion. Many of them had no good foundation. And they were only justified by the considerations that they would be reviewed by a more disinterested authority, and that the condemnations were demanded by the people of Minnesota. General Sibley pardoned one man because hewas a near relative of John Otherday, who had done so much for white people.
The campaign was now closed. The work of the military commission was completed. It remained now to go into winter-quarters, to guard the prisoners, and to await such orders as should come from the President. It was November when the camp was removed from the Lower Sioux Agency to Mankato. On our way thither we must needs pass by or through New Ulm. As we approached that place, with 400 manacled Sioux, carried in wagons, and guarded by lines of infantry and cavalry, the people came out and made an insane attack upon the prisoners. General Sibley thought it best to yield so far to the wishes of the Germans as to pass outside of the town.
On our reaching Mankato, I was released from further service in the camp, and sent down to carry the condemnations to the military headquarters at St. Paul. At midnight the stage reached Minneapolis. My own family were across the river, living in a hired house in St. Anthony. I had received very particular information as to how I should find the place, and went directly there; but, as no answer was made to my knocking, I went back to the church to see if I could have made a mistake. After trying in other directions, I aroused Rev. Mr. Sercombe, who insisted on going with me to the place where I had stood knocking.
Mary and the children were comfortably housed. Mrs. Sophronia McKee, the wife of the Presbyterian clergyman, had been a fellow-townswoman and special friend of Mary in their younger years. This was a guarantee of help in this time of need. They found friends. Donations of little things to help them commencehousekeeping came in from interested hearts. Friends farther away sent boxes of clothing and in some cases money; so that after more than two months I found them in comfortable circumstances.
All along the line of the frontier, where the Sioux raids had been made, were many families who had returned to desolated homes. Many persons all over the country took a deep interest in this class of sufferers, and money contributions were made for their relief. The Friends in Indiana and elsewhere had placed their contributions in the hands of Friend W. W. Wales of St. Anthony. Here was a service in which I could engage, and find relief from the strain of the campaign and the condemnations. Accordingly, I undertook to hunt up needy families in the neighborhood of Glencoe and Hutchinson, and to dispense a few hundred dollars of this benevolent fund. One day, as I was traveling in my one-horse buggy over the snow between Glencoe and Hutchinson, I was overtaken by a messenger from General Sibley, asking me to report to Colonel Miller, who was in command of the prison at Mankato, to be present and give assistance at the time of the executions.
As a matter of duty, I obeyed. From my youth up, it had been a determination of mine never to go to see a fellow-being hanged. No curiosity could have taken me. Rather would I have gone the other way. But, if I could be of service to Indian or white man, in preventing mistakes and furthering the ends of justice and righteousness, my own feelings should be held in abeyance and made to work in the line of duty.
On receiving the papers transmitted from the military commission, President Lincoln had placed them in the hands of impartial men, with instructions to report thecases which, according to the testimony, were convicted of participation in individual murders or in violating white women. Acting under these instructions, thirty-nine cases were reported, and these were ordered by the President to be executed. But among so many it was a matter of much difficulty to identify all the cases. Among the condemned there were several persons of the same name—three or fourChaskays, two or threeWashechoons. In the findings of the commission they were all numbered, and the order for the executions was given in accordance with these numbers. But no one could remember which number attached to which person. The only certain way of avoiding mistakes was by examining closely the individual charges. To Joseph R. Brown, who better than any other man knew all these condemned men,—and he did not recognize all perfectly,—was mainly committed the work of selecting those who were named to be executed. Extraordinary care was meant to be used; but after it was all over, when we came to compare their own stories and confessions, made a day or two before their death, with the papers of condemnation, the conviction was forced upon us that two mistakes had occurred.
The separation was effected on Monday morning, the men to be executed being taken from the log jail, in which all were confined, to an adjoining stone building, where they were additionally secured by being chained to the floor. Colonel Miller then informed them of the order of the President that they should be hanged on the Thursday following, and they were advised to prepare themselves for that event. They were at liberty to select such spiritual counsel as they desired. Dr. Williamson was there as a Protestant minister, and Father Ravauxof St. Paul as a Catholic priest. They were advised not to select me, as I was acting interpreter for the government. More than three-fourths of the whole number selected Mr. Ravaux. This was accounted for by the fact that one of the Campbells, a half-breed and a Roman Catholic, was of the number. Some days before this, Dr. Williamson had baptizedRound Wind, who was reprieved by an order from the President, which came only a day or so before the executions, reducing the number to thirty-eight.
Of this manRound Windit is sufficient to say that he was condemned on the testimony of a German boy, who affirmed that he was the man who killed his mother. But it was afterward shown, by abundance of testimony, thatRound Windwas not there.
As the time of their death approached, they manifested a desire, each one, to say some things to their Dakota friends, and also to the white people. I acceded to their request, and spent a whole day with them, writing down such things as they wished to say. Many of them, the most of them, took occasion to affirm their innocence of the charges laid against them of killing individuals. But they admitted, and said of their own accord, that so many white people had been killed by the Dakotas that public and general justice required the death of some in return. This admission was in the line of their education. Perhaps it is not too much to call it an instinct of humanity.
The executions took place. Arrangements were made by whichthirty-eightDakota men were suspended in mid-air by the cutting of one rope. The other prisoners, through crevices in the walls of their log prison-house, saw them hanged. And they were deeply affected by it, albeitthey did not show their feelings as white men would have done under like circumstances.
At the close of the week, Dr. Williamson, finding himself quite worn out with abundant labors, returned to St. Peter to rest in his family. The Sabbath morning came. The night before, a fresh snow had fallen nearly a foot deep. Colonel Miller thought it was only humane to let the prisoners go out into the yard on that day, to breathe the fresh air. And so it was we gathered in the middle of that enclosure, and all that company of chained men stood while we sang hymns and prayed and talked of God’s plan of saving men from death. To say that they listened with attention and interest would not convey the whole truth. Evidently, their fears were thoroughly aroused, and they were eager to find out some way by which the death they apprehended could be averted. This was their attitude. It was a good time to talk to them of sin—to tell them of their sins. It was a good time to unfold to them God’s plan of saving from sin—to tell them God’s own son, Jesus Christ our Lord, died to save them from their sins, if they would only believe. A marvelous work of grace was already commencing in the prison.
The next day after the Sabbath I left Mankato, and returned to my family in St. Anthony, where I spent the remaining part of the winter, partly in preparing school-books, for which there arose a sudden demand, and all we had on hands were destroyed in the outbreak; and partly in helping on the spiritual and educational work in the camp at Fort Snelling. But Dr. Williamson, living as he did in St. Peter, gave his time during the winter to teaching and preaching to the men in the prison. Immediately on their reaching Mankato, he andhis sister came up to visit them, and were glad to find them ready to listen.
The prisoners asked for books. Only two copies of the New Testament and two or three copies of the Dakota hymn-book were found in prison. Some of each were obtained elsewhere, and afterward furnished them, but not nearly as many as they needed. Some slates and pencils and writing-paper were provided for them. And still later in the winter some Dakota books were given them. From this time on the prison became a school, and continued to be such all through their imprisonment. They were all exceedingly anxious to learn. And the more their minds were turned toward God and his Word, the more interested they became in learning to read and write. In their minds, books and the religion we preached went together.
Soon after this first visit of Dr. Williamson, they began to sing and pray publicly, every morning and evening; which they continued to do all the while they were in prison. This they commenced of their own accord. At first the prayers were made only by those who had been church members, and who were accustomed to pray; but others soon came forward and did the same.
Before the executions, Robert Hopkins, who was, at that time, the leader in all that pertained to worship, handed to Dr. Williamson the names of thirty men who had then led in public prayer. And not very long after, sixty more names were added to the list of praying ones. This was regarded by themselves very much in the light of making a profession of religion.
In a few weeks a deep and abiding concern for themselves was manifest. Here were hundreds of men who had all their life refused to listen to the Gospel. Theynow wanted to hear it. There was a like number of men who had refused to learn to read. Now almost all were eager to learn. And along with this wonderful awakening on the subject of education sprang up the more marvelous one of their seeking after God—some god. Their own gods had failed them signally, as was manifest by their present condition. Their conjurers, their medicine-men, their makers ofwakan, were nonplussed. Even the women taunted them by saying, “You boasted great power aswakanmen; where is it now?” These barriers, which had been impregnable and impenetrable in the past, were suddenly broken down. Their ancestral religion had departed. They were unwilling now, in their distresses, to be without God—without hope, without faith in something or some one. Their hearts were aching after some spiritual revelation.
Then, if human judgment resulted in what they had seen and realized, what would be the results of God’s judgment? If sin againstwhite menbroughtsuch death, what death might come to them by reason of sin, from the Great Wakan? There was such a thing as sin, and there was such a person as Christ, God’s Son, who is a Saviour from sin. These impressions were made by the preaching of the Word. These impressions became convictions. The work of God’s Spirit had now commenced among them, and it was continued all winter, “deep and powerful, but very quiet,” as one wrote.
Some of these men, in their younger days, had heard the Messrs. Pond talk of the white man’s religion. They were desirous now, in their trouble, to hear from their old friends, whose counsel they had so long rejected. To this request, Mr. G. H. Pond responded, and spent some days in the prison, assisting Dr. Williamson. Rev.Mr. Hicks, pastor of the Presbyterian church in Mankato, was also taken into their counsels and gave them aid. For several weeks previous, many men had been wishing to be baptized, and thus recognized as believers in the Lord Jesus Christ. This number increased from day to day, until about three hundred—just how many could not afterward be ascertained—stood up and were baptized into the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. The circumstances were peculiar, the whole movement was marvelous, it was like a “nation born in a day.” The brethren desired to be divinely guided; and, after many years of testing have elapsed, we all say that was a genuine work of God’s Holy Spirit.
Several weeks after the events above described, in the month of March, I went up to Mankato and spent two Sabbaths with the men in prison; and while there labored to establish them in their new faith, and at the close of my visit, by the request of Dr. Williamson, I administered to these new converts the Lord’s Supper.Robert HopkinsandPeter Big Firehad both been prominent members and elders in Dr. Williamson’s church at Pay-zhe-hoo-ta-ze. Naturally they, with others who were soon brought to the front, became the leaders and exponents of Christian faith among the prisoners.
This first communion in the prison made a deep impression upon myself. It began to throw light upon the perplexing questions that had started in my own mind, as to the moral meaning of the outbreak. God’s thought of it was not my thought. As the heavens were higher than the earth, so his thoughts were higher than mine. I accepted the present interpretation of the events, and thanked God and took courage. The Indians had not meant it so. In their thought and determination, theoutbreak was the culmination of their hatred of Christianity. But God, who sits on the throne, had made it result in their submission to him. This was marvelous in our eyes.
While these events were transpiring in the prison at Mankato, a very similar work went on in the camp at Fort Snelling. The conditions in both places were a good deal alike. In the camp as well as in the prison they were in trouble and perplexity. In their distresses they were disposed to call upon the Lord. Many of our church members, both men and women, were in the camp. There werePaul, andSimon, andAntoine Renville, the elders of the Hazelwood church, andJoseph Napayshneof the Lower Sioux Agency. But the outlook was as dark to them as it was to us. Mr. J. P. Williamson thus describes the state of the camp in the closing days of 1862:—
“Thesuspensewas terrible. The ignorant women had not seen much of the world, and didn’t know anything about law. They, however, knew that their husbands and sons had been murdering the whites, and were now in prison therefor, and they themselves dependent for life on the mercy of the whites. The ever-present query was, What will become of us, and especially of the men? With inquisitive eyes they were always watching the soldiers and other whites who visited them, for an answer, but the curses and threats they received were little understood, except that they meant no good. With what imploring looks have we been besought to tell them their fate. Strange reports were constantly being whispered around the camp. Now, the men were all to be executed, of whom the thirty-eight hanged at Mankato was the first installment, and the women and childrenscattered and made slaves; now, they were all to be taken to a rocky barren island somewhere, and left with nothing but fish for a support; and, again, they were to be taken away down South, where it was so hot they would all die of fever and ague.”
Rev. John P. Williamson, having been providentially absent in Ohio at the time of the outbreak, returned to accompany this camp of despised and hated Dakotas in their journey from the Lower Sioux Agency to Fort Snelling. But it did not immediately appear what he could do for them. He and I were in much the same condition, looking around for other work. He says of himself that at this time he “made some effort to secure a place as stated supply in the neighborhood of St. Paul or Minneapolis, but was unsuccessful; and then he felt such drawing toward the Indian camp that he took the nearest available quarters, and spent the winter ministering temporally and spiritually to this afflicted people.”
When, in the spring following, they were taken down the Mississippi and up the Missouri to Crow Creek, he did not forsake them, but stayed by them in evil and in good report, with the devotion of a lover. Everywhere, and at all times his thoroughly honest, devoted, and unselfish course commanded the respect and confidence of white men in and out of the army. And his self-abandonment to the temporal and spiritual good of the families of the men in prison begot in them such admiration and confidence that scarcely a prayer was made by them, in all those four years of their imprisonment, without the petition that God would remember and bless “the one who is called John.”
The camp at Snelling was on the low ground near the river, where the steamboats were accustomed to land.A high board fence was made around two or three acres of ground, inside of which the Dakotas pitched their cloth tents. In them they cooked and ate and slept, and read the Bible and sang and prayed, and wrote letters to their friends in prison.
By gradual steps, but with overwhelming power, came the heavenly visitation. At first Mr. Williamson used to meet the former members in one of their own teepees. Presently there was an evident softening of hearts. Now news came of the awakening among the prisoners at Mankato. The teepee would not contain half the listeners, so for some time in the middle of winter the meetings were held in the campus, then in a great dark garret over a warehouse, without other fire than spiritual. In that low garret, when hundreds were crouched down among the rafters, only the glistening eyes of some of them visible in the dark, we remember how the silence was sometimes such that the fall of a pin might be heard. Many were convicted; confessions and professions were made; idols treasured for many generations with the highest reverence were thrown away by the score. They had faith no longer in their idols. They laid hold on Christ as their only hope. On this ground they were baptized, over a hundred adults, with their children.
It was my privilege to be present frequently, and to see how the good hand of the Lord was upon them in giving them spiritual blessings in their distresses. There was ever a large and active sympathy between the camp and the prison, and frequent letters passed between them. When, at one time, I brought down several hundred letters from the prisoners, and told them of the wonderful work there in progress, it produced a powerful effect. In both camp and prison, both intellectually and spiritually, it was a winter of great advancement.
1863-1866.—The Dakota Prisoners Taken to Davenport.—Camp McClellan.—Their Treatment.—Great Mortality.—Education in Prison.—Worship.—Church Matters.—The Camp at Snelling Removed to Crow Creek.—John P. Williamson’s Story.—Many Die.—Scouts’ Camp.—Visits to Them.—Family Threads.—Revising the New Testament.—Educating Our Children.—Removal to Beloit.—Family Matters.—Little Six and Medicine Bottle.—With the Prisoners at Davenport.
1863-1866.—The Dakota Prisoners Taken to Davenport.—Camp McClellan.—Their Treatment.—Great Mortality.—Education in Prison.—Worship.—Church Matters.—The Camp at Snelling Removed to Crow Creek.—John P. Williamson’s Story.—Many Die.—Scouts’ Camp.—Visits to Them.—Family Threads.—Revising the New Testament.—Educating Our Children.—Removal to Beloit.—Family Matters.—Little Six and Medicine Bottle.—With the Prisoners at Davenport.
The course of the Mississippi forming the eastern line of the State of Iowa is from north to south; but its trend, as it passes the city of Davenport, is to the west; so that what is called “East Davenport” is a mile above the city. At this point, in the beginning of the civil war, barracks had been erected for the accommodation of the forming Iowa regiments, to which was given the name of “Camp McClellan.”
Thither were transported the condemned Sioux who had been kept at Mankato during the winter. On the opening of navigation in the spring of 1863, a steamboat ascended to Mankato, took on the prisoners, and, on reaching Fort Snelling, put off about fifty men who had not been condemned, to unite their fortunes with those in the camp. The men under condemnation were taken down to Davenport, where, at Camp McClellan, they were guarded by soldiers for the next three years.
After a little while, their irons were all taken off, and they enjoyed comparative liberty, being often permitted to go to the town to trade their bows and arrows and other trinkets, and sometimes into the country around to labor, without a guard. They never attempted to make their escape, though at one time it was meditated by some, but so strongly and wisely opposed by the more considerate ones, that the plan was at once abandoned. Generally the soldiers who guarded them treated them kindly. It was remarked that a new company, whether of the regular army or of volunteers, when assigned to this duty, at the first treated the prisoners with a good deal of severity and harshness. But a few weeks sufficed to change their feelings, and they were led to pity, and then to respect, those whom they had regarded as worse than wild beasts.
The camp was not a pleasant place, except in summer. The surroundings were rather beautiful. The oak groves of the hill-side which bordered the river were attractive. And the buildings occupied by the troops were comfortable. But within the stockade, where the prisoners were kept, the houses were of the most temporary kind, through the innumerable crevices of which blew the winter winds and storms. Only a limited amount of wood was furnished them, which, in the cold windy weather, was often consumed by noon. Then the Indians were under the necessity of keeping warm, if they could, in the straw and under their worn blankets.
In these circumstances, many would naturally fall sick go into a decline,—pulmonary consumption, for which their scrofulous bodies had a liking,—and die. The hospital was generally well filled with such cases. Thedeath-rate was very large—more than ten per cent. each year, making about 120 deaths while they were confined at that place. About one hundred men, women, and children, who came afterward into the hands of the military, were added to those who were first brought down. These latter were uncondemned. As some, women had been permitted to come with the prisoners at the first, and now more were added, a good many children were born there. And thus it came to pass that all who were released and returned to their people from this prison numbered only about two hundred and fourscore.
For the first two years of their abode at Davenport, Dr. Williamson had the chief care of the educational and church work among them. During this time I only visited them twice. Once, when a difficulty and misunderstanding had arisen between Dr. Williamson and a General Roberts, who at one time commanded that department, the doctor was obliged to return to his home in St. Peter. On learning the fact, I counselled with General Sibley, who gave me a letter to General Roberts. Before I reached there, however, Roberts had become ashamed of his conduct, as I judged, and so I found it quite easy to restore amicable relations. No such difficulties occurred thereafter.
For the prisoners these were educational years. They were better supplied with books than they could be at Mankato. A new edition of our Dakota hymn-book was gotten out, and in 1865 an edition of the Dakota Bible so far as translated, besides other books. The avails of their work in mussel-shells and bows gave them the means of purchasing paper and books.
With only a few exceptions, all in the prison who were adults professed to be Christians. A few had been baptized by Rev. S. D. Hinman, of the Episcopal church, who visited them once while at Davenport. But while a number were recognized as members of that church, they worshipped all together. Morning and night they had their singing and praying; but especially at night, when they were not likely to be disturbed by any order from the officer in command.
In church matters they naturally fell into classes according to their former clans or villages. In each of these classes one—or more than one—Hoonkayape was ordained. He was the elder and class-leader. This arrangement was made by Dr. Williamson. It was one step toward raising up for them pastors from themselves. On our part it was a felt necessity, forwecould not properly watch over and care for these people astheycould watch over and care for each other. So the work of education and establishment in the faith of the Gospel was carried on.
Let us now return to follow for a little the fortunes of those in the camp at Fort Snelling. The winter of suspense had worn away, and in the month of April, soon after the Mankato prisoners passed down into Iowa, those at Snelling were placed on a steamboat, and floated down to St. Louis and up the Missouri to Crow Creek, where they were told to make homes. Mr. J. P. Williamsonwentwith them, andremainedwith them, during those terrible years of suffering and death. Who can tell the story better than he?
“As they look on their native hills for the last time, a dark cloud is crushing their hearts. Down they go toSt. Louis, thence up the Missouri to Crow Creek. But this brings little relief, for what of the men; and can the women and children ever live in this parched land, where neither rain nor dew was seen for many weeks?
“The mortality was fearful. The shock, the anxiety, the confinement, the pitiable diet, were naturally followed by sickness. Many died at Fort Snelling. The steamboat trip of over one month, under some circumstances, might have been a benefit to their health, but when 1300 Indians were crowded like slaves on the boiler and hurricane decks of a single boat, and fed on musty hardtack and briny pork, which they had not half a chance to cook, diseases were bred which made fearful havoc during the hot months, and the 1300 souls that were landed at Crow Creek June 1, 1863, decreased to one thousand. For a time a teepee where no one was sick could scarcely be found, and it was a rare day when there was no funeral. So were the hills soon covered with graves. The very memory of Crow Creek became horrible to the Santees, who still hush their voices at the mention of the name.
“Meetings, always an important means of grace, were greatly multiplied. Daily meetings were commenced at Fort Snelling; the steamboat was made a Bethel for daily praise, and the Crow Creek daily prayer-meetings were held each summer under booths, which plan was continued the first summer at Niobrara. Women’s prayer-meetings were commenced at Crow Creek, deaconesses being appointed to have charge of them. The children also had meetings, conducted by themselves. All these means were blessed of the Holy Spirit to the breaking of the Herculean chains of Paganism.”
Soon after reaching Crow Creek, Mr. Williamson called to his assistance Mr. Edward R. Pond and his wife, Mrs. Mary Frances Pond—born Hopkins—both children of the old missionaries, who continued with these people until the year 1870.
For the security of the Minnesota frontier, and to further chastise the Sioux, military expeditions were organized in the spring and summer of 1863. The one that went from Minnesota was in command of Gen. H. H. Sibley. Attached to this expedition was a corps of scouts, forty or fifty of them being Dakota men, who had in some way, and to some extent, showed themselves to be on the side of the white people, at the time of the outbreak. In this expedition I had the position of interpreter.
The families of these Sioux scouts were sent out to the frontier, and maintained by the government, not only during that summer, but for several years. This was known as the “Scouts’ Camp,” and the church among them was called by the same name, until 1869, when several churches were formed out of this one, as they began to scatter and settle down on the new Sisseton Reservation.
In the summer of 1864, I visited their camp at the head of the Red Wood. The next summer I was with them for a short time at the Yellow Medicine. At each of these visits quite a number of additions was made to the roll of church members—infants and grown persons were baptized, marriages were solemnized, and ruling elders were ordained. During these years we had licensed and ordained as an evangelist John B. Renville, who accompanied me on each of the visits mentioned.
Let me now gather up, and weave in, some threads of our home-life. For three years Mary and the children made their home in St. Anthony, now East Minneapolis, in a hired house. Our three boys, at the commencement of this period, being fifteen and thirteen and seven respectively, were at a good age to be profited by the schools of the town. Thomas and Henry soon commenced the rudiments of the Latin in Mr. Butterfield’s school. While, to add to the family finances, Isabella and Martha, in turn, and sometimes both, engaged in teaching.
When a student in Chicago Theological Seminary, Alfred formed the acquaintance of Mary Buel Hatch. Her father had died in her childhood; and her mother had resided a while in Rockford, Ill., educating her daughters, but was now living in Chicago. The attachment then formed resulted in marriage, after Alfred had been located a year at Lockport, Ill., where he was called, immediately on graduating, to be the religious teacher of the Congregational church.
In the month of June, 1863, they took their wedding journey, and visited the improvised home of the family in St. Anthony, whence they returned and made their own home at Lockport for four years. This first daughter introduced into the family has charmed us all by her active, sunshiny Christian life.
Returning from the military campaign in the fall of 1863, when there seemed to be no special call for my services with the Indians, I addressed myself for the next six months to a revision and completion of the New Testament in the Dakota language. It was a winter of very hard and confining work, and right glad was I when the spring came, and I could find some recreation in the garden.
The next autumn I went to New York and spent three months in the Bible House, reading the proof of our new Dakota Bible, and having some other printing done. To the New Testament above mentioned, Dr. Williamson had added a revised Genesis and Proverbs. It was at this time the Bible Society commenced making electrotype plates of the Dakota Scriptures.
Mary’s health, always tenacious but never vigorous, had received a severe shock by the outbreak and what followed. But she did not at once succumb. Her will-power was very strong, which often proved sufficient to keep her up when some others would have placed themselves in the hands of a physician. But the house she lived in became more frail and worn in the summer and autumn of 1864, and she was obliged to take some special steps toward upbuilding. For some weeks at the close of the year, when I was absent, she was prevailed upon to try a residence at a water-cure, but without any permanent benefit.
As yet, the Dakota work, while it had given each one of us plenty to do, did not assume anything like a permanent shape. Things were still in a chaotic state. What would be the outcome, no one could tell in the year 1865. There was a time when I seriously asked the question, “What shall I do? Shall I seek some other work, or still wait to see what the months will bring forth?” I had even made it a subject of correspondence with Secretary Treat, whether I might not turn my attentionpartlyto preaching to white people, and do a kind of half-and-half work. That plan was at once discouraged by Mr. Treat; and then Mr. G. H. Pond came to my relief, giving it as his decided conviction that I shouldhold on to the Dakota work. So that question was settled.
But where this work would be located did not then appear. There did not seem to be any great reason why we should remain in St. Anthony. The immediate family business was the education of our children. In the autumn previous, I had taken Thomas to Beloit, where, after making up some studies, he had entered the freshman class. Could we not better accomplish this part of our God-given trust by removing thither, and for a while making that our home? By so doing, I might be farther away from any permanent place of work among the Dakotas. On the other hand, I would be nearer the prisoners at Davenport, and could relieve Dr. Williamson for the winter, which was desired. In this state of doubt, it often seemed that it would have been so comforting and satisfying if we could have heard the Lord’s voice saying, “This is the way, walk ye in it.” But no such voice came. However, as Mary recruited in the summer, and it seemed quite probable she would be able to remove, our judgment trended to Beloit, and I made arrangements for a family home by the purchase of a small cottage and garden, which have been a comfort to us in all these years.
And so, in the month of September, we came to the southern line of Wisconsin. Anna had just completed the course at Rockford Female Seminary, and was ready to do duty in our new home. Martha accepted a call to teach at Mankato. Isabella accompanied us to Beloit, having under consideration the question of going to China with Rev. Mark W. Williams. This decision was not fully reached until the meeting of the American Board in Chicago, in the fall of 1865. One day she and I walkeddown Washington street together, and talked over the subject, and she gave in her answer.
In the early days of that year, two of the leaders in the outbreak of 1862 were captured from beyond the British line, and, after a trial by a military commission, were condemned to be hanged. These men were commonly known as Little Six and Medicine Bottle. While in Chicago at the meeting of the Board, I received a note from Colonel McLaren, commanding at Fort Snelling, asking me to attend these men before their execution. The invitation was sent at their request. I obeyed the summons, and spent a couple of days with the condemned. But while I was there a telegram came from Washington giving them a reprieve. This relieved me from being present when they were hanged, one month afterward.
The winter that followed, I gave to the prisoners at Davenport. They had passed through the small-pox with considerable loss of life; and that winter only the ordinary cases of sickness and the ordinary number of deaths occurred. These were numerous enough. The confinement of nearly four years, and the uncertainty which had always rested upon them like a nightmare, had all along produced many cases of decline. And even when the time of their deliverance drew nigh, and hope should have made them buoyant, they were too much afraid to hope—the promise was too good to be believed.
Before their release, I was called home to attend, on the 21st of February, the marriage of Isabella and Mr. Williams, and to bid them God-speed on their long journey by sailing vessel to China.
1866-1869.—Prisoners Meet their Families at the Niobrara.—Our Summer’s Visitation.—At the Scouts’ Camp.—Crossing the Prairie.—Killing Buffalo.—At Niobrara.—Religious Meetings.—Licensing Natives.—Visiting the Omahas.—Scripture Translating.—Sisseton Treaty at Washington.—Second Visit to the Santees.—Artemas and Titus Ordained.—Crossing to the Head of the Coteau.—Organizing Churches and Licensing Dakotas.—Solomon, Robert, Louis, Daniel.—On Horseback in 1868.—Visit to the Santees, Yanktons, and Brules.—Gathering at Dry Wood.—Solomon Ordained.—Writing “Takoo Wakan.”—Mary’s Sickness.—Grand Hymns.—Going through the Valley of the Shadow.—Death!
1866-1869.—Prisoners Meet their Families at the Niobrara.—Our Summer’s Visitation.—At the Scouts’ Camp.—Crossing the Prairie.—Killing Buffalo.—At Niobrara.—Religious Meetings.—Licensing Natives.—Visiting the Omahas.—Scripture Translating.—Sisseton Treaty at Washington.—Second Visit to the Santees.—Artemas and Titus Ordained.—Crossing to the Head of the Coteau.—Organizing Churches and Licensing Dakotas.—Solomon, Robert, Louis, Daniel.—On Horseback in 1868.—Visit to the Santees, Yanktons, and Brules.—Gathering at Dry Wood.—Solomon Ordained.—Writing “Takoo Wakan.”—Mary’s Sickness.—Grand Hymns.—Going through the Valley of the Shadow.—Death!
The spring of 1866 saw the prisoners at Davenport released by order of the President; and their families, which had remained at Crow Creek for three dry and parched years, were permitted to join their husbands and brothers and fathers at Niobrara, in the north-east angle of Nebraska. That was a glad and a sad meeting; but the gladness prevailed over the sadness. And now all the Dakotas with whom we had been laboring were again in a somewhat normal condition. All had passed through strange trials and tribulations, and God had brought them out into a large place. The prisoners had prayed that their chains might be removed. God heard them, and the chains were now a thing of the past. They had prayed that they might again have a country, and now they were in the way of receiving that at the hand of the Lord.
And so, as Rev. John P. Williamson was with the united church of camp and prison on the Missouri, Dr. T. S. Williamson and I took with us John B. Renville and started on a tour of summer visitation. After a week’s travel from St. Peter, in Minnesota, we reached the Scouts’ Camp, which, in the month of June, 1866, we found partly on the margin of Lake Traverse, and partly at Buffalo Lake, in the country which was afterward set apart for their especial use.
At both of these places we administered the Lord’s Supper, ordained Daniel Renville as a ruling elder, and licensed Peter Big-Fire and Simon Anawangmane to preach the Gospel. Neither of these men developed into preachers, but they have been useful as exhorters from that day to this. On the Fourth of July, we added Peter to our little company, and started across from Fort Wadsworth, which had only recently been established, to Crow Creek on the Missouri. From that point we passed down to the mouth of the Niobrara.
On this journey across the prairie we encountered many herds of buffalo. Sometimes they were far to one side of us, and we could pass by without molesting them. Once, on the first day from Wadsworth, we came suddenly upon a herd of a hundred or more, lying down. When we discovered them, they were only about half a mile in front of us. Peter said it was too good a chance not to be improved; he must shoot one. We gave him leave to try, and he crawled around over some low ground and killed a very fine cow. We could only take a little of the meat, leaving the rest to be devoured by prairie wolves. This episode in the day’s travel frightened our horses, delayed us somewhat, and made us late getting into camp at the “Buzzard’s Nest.” The result was that in thegloaming our horses all broke away, and gave us four hours of hunting for them the next morning. Then we had a long, hot ride, without water, over the burning prairie, to James River.
As I have said, the prisoners released from Davenport and their families from Crow Creek had met at Niobrara. This point had been selected for a town site, and a company had erected a large shell of a frame house intended for a hotel. Their plans had failed, and now the thought probably was to reimburse themselves out of the government.
We found the Indians living in tents, while the families of Mr. Williamson and Mr. Pond and others were accommodated with shelter in the big house. For their religious mass-meetings, they had erected a large booth, which served well in the dry weather of summer. Every day, morning and evening, they gathered there for prayer and praise, reading the Bible and telling what God had done for them. They had come too late to plant, and there was but little employment for them, and so the weeks we spent there were weeks of worship, given to the strengthening of the things that remain, and arranging for future educational and Christian work. The churches of the prison and the camp were consolidated, and we selected and licensed Artemas Ehnamane and Titus Ichadooze as probationers for the Gospel ministry. When we had remained as long as seemed desirable, Dr. Williamson and I left them, and came down to the Omaha Reserve, where we visited the new agency among the Winnebagoes and the Presbyterian Boarding-School among the Omahas. The latter was flourishing, but, having been conducted in English alone, its spiritual results were very unsatisfactory.
The multiplication of Dakota readers during the past few years gave a new impulse to our work of translating the Scriptures, and made larger demands for other books. This furnished a great amount of winter work for both Dr. Williamson and myself. In five years we added the Psalms, Ecclesiastes, the Song, and Isaiah, together with the other four books of Moses, to what he had printed in 1865.
The Wahpatons and Sissetons, who constituted the Scouts’ Camp on the western border of Minnesota, and who had done good service in protecting the white settlements from the roving, horse-stealing Sioux in the first months of 1867, sent a delegation to Washington to make a treaty, and obtain the guarantee of a home and government help. While that delegation was in Washington, I took occasion to spend a month or more in lobbying in the interests of Indian civilization. To me this kind of work was always distasteful and unsatisfactory, and this time I came home to be taken down with inflammatory rheumatism. I had planned for an early summer campaign in the Dakota country, but it was July before I could get courage enough to start. And then it was with a great deal of pain that I endured the stage ride between Omaha and Sioux City. There I was met by Dr. Williamson, in his little wagon, and together we proceeded up to the settlement in Nebraska.
Since we had been there in the previous summer, these people had drifted down on to Bazille Creek, where Mr. Williamson and Mr. Pond had erectedshacks—that is, log houses with dirt roofs—and between the two had made a room for assembly. The two men we had licensed the summer previous were this season ordained and setover the native church, Mr. Williamson still retaining the oversight. At each visitation we endeavored to work the native church members up to a feeling of responsibility in the work of contributing to the support of their pastors, but it has been no easy undertaking.
This summer, with Robert Hopkins and Adam Paze for our companions in travel, the doctor and I crossed over directly from Niobrara to the head of the Coteau. Those Indians we now found considerably scattered on their new reservation. Some general lines began to appear in the settlement, and during this and our visit in the year following several church organizations were effected; and Solomon Toonkan-Shaecheya, Robert Hopkins, Louis Mazawakinyanna, and Daniel Renville were licensed to preach.
Louis was an elder in the prison and on the Niobrara, and of his own motion had gone over to Fort Wadsworth, and, finding a community of Sioux scouts connected with the garrison, commenced religious work among them. In this he was supported and encouraged by the chaplain, Rev. G. D. Crocker. This year our camp-meeting was held on the border of the Coteau as it looks down on Lake Traverse.
The opening of the season of 1868 found me starting from Sioux City on a gray pony, which I rode across to Minnesota. But first I spent some weeks with the Santees. They had partly removed from Bazille Creek down to the bottom where the agency is now located. A long log house had been prepared for a church and school-house. The Episcopalians were building extensively and expensively, while our folks contented themselves with very humble abodes. The work of education hadprogressed very finely, Mr. Williamson and Mr. Pond giving much time to it, while Mrs. Pond and Mrs. Williamson greatly helped the women in their religious home-life.
This summer John P. Williamson and I took Artemas Ehnamane, the senior native minister of the Pilgrim Church, and crossed over to Fort Wadsworth, where Dr. Williamson and John B. Renville met us. On the way, we made a short stop at the Yankton agency, which we had visited two years before. Now it was opening up as a field of promise to Mr. Williamson, and he proceeded to occupy it soon afterward. We made another stop, for preaching purposes, at Brule and Crow Creek, where the pastor of Santee showed himself able to gain the attention of the wild Sioux. Our ride across the desert land was enlivened by conversation on Dakota customs and Dakota songs. In both these departments of literature, this former hunter and warrior from Red Wing was an excellent teacher.
This annual gathering at the head of the Coteau was held at Dry Wood Lake, where Peter Big-Fire had settled. It was the most remarkable of all those yearly camp-meetings. On this occasion about sixty persons were added to our church list. It was a sight to be remembered, when, on the open prairie, they and their children stood up to be baptized.
At the close of this meeting we held another at Buffalo Lake, in one of their summer houses, which was full of meaning. The recently organized church of Long Hollow, which then extended to Buffalo Lake, had selected Solomon to be their religious teacher. And this after meeting was held to ordain and install him as pastor of that church. He was a young manof Christian experience and blameless life, and has since proved himself to be a very reliable and useful native pastor.
Since the marvels of grace wrought among the Dakotas in the prison and camp, we had received numerous invitations to prepare some account thereof for the Christian public. Several of these requests came from members of the Dakota Presbytery, which then covered the western part of Minnesota. Accordingly, I had taken up the idea, and endeavored to work it out. Some chapters had been submitted for examination to a committee of the Presbytery, and commended by them for publication. In the autumn and winter of 1868, the manuscript began to assume a completed form. It was submitted to Secretary S. B. Treat for examination, who made valuable suggestions, and agreed to write an introduction to the book. This he did, in a manner highly satisfactory.
The manuscript I first offered to the Presbyterian Board of Publication. But the best that Dr. Dulles could do was to offer me a hundred dollars for the copy-right. Friends in Boston thought I could do better there. And so “Tahkoo Wakan,” or “The Gospel Among the Dakotas,” was brought out by the Congregational Publishing Society, in the summer of 1869. In the preparation of the book Mary had taken the deepest interest, although not able to do much of the mental work. The preface bears date less than three weeks before her death.
Authors whose books do not sell very well, I suppose, generally marvel at the result. This little volume was, and is still, so intensely interesting to me that I wonder why everybody does not buy and read it. But overagainst this stands the fact that hitherto less than two thousand copies have been disposed of. Pecuniarily, it has not been a success. But neither has it been an entire failure. And perhaps it has done some good in bringing a class of Christian workers into more intelligent sympathy and co-operation in the work of Indian evangelization; and so the labor is not lost.
Since we left Minnesota, Mary had apparently been slowly recovering from the invalidism of the past. She enjoyed life. She could occasionally attend religious meetings. The society of Beloit was very congenial. Sometimes she was able to attend the ministers’ meetings, and enjoyed the literary and religious discussions and criticisms. The last winter—that of 1868-69—she became exceedingly interested in a book called “The Seven Great Hymns of the Mediæval Church.” She read and re-read the various translations ofDies Iræ. But she was attracted most to theHora Novissimaof Bernard of Cluni. Such a stanza as the 26th:—