Many reports became current as to the final disposition of the dead chief’s body after it had been taken to Homer for the inquest. These reports only added to the embitterment of the Indians, who had expected much from the inquest, having been told that this would settle matters. That the inquest took somewhat the form of a farce was due to the attitude of the prosecuting attorney of Hamilton County, Granville Berkley, who humorously conducted the affair.
Fearing later unpleasant results, the whites attempted to pacify the Indians with many promises. But the Indians grew sullen and suspicious and behaved in such a manner as to create the impression that they might retaliate. It soon became evident that the authorities had no intention of keeping their promises. The Indians after some threatening seem to have disappeared.[77]One can understand how such incidents, coupled with past grievances, “real or only imaginary”, might in the end lead to desperate deeds.
With the Indians in a most unhappy and vengeful state of mind the Traverse des Sioux Treaty lands were thrown open for settlement in 1853. For several years people had settled along the border of this territory patiently awaiting the opening. Assurances were given the settlers that the Sioux were all established upon their reserve seventy miles north of Iowa’s northern boundary. With these assurances of safety, the settlers rapidly pushed to the westward of the Des Moines River which hitherto had been the farthest limit of their movement.
The line of frontier settlements by 1857 extended in a semi-circle from Sioux City to Fort Dodge as a center and thence to or near Springfield (now Jackson) in Minnesota.[78]Only a brief time served to destroy this line as the settlers moved westward in search of the choicest claims. Before discussing the events which were soon to transpire it will be well to note the outward movement of this frontier to the northwest. The effect upon the Indians of the sudden outward bulging of the line was little short of maddening, as they felt themselves being swept onward by a tide they could not stem. All oftheir illy concealed hatred of the whites now bade fair to be loosed, while all past wrongs seemed about to be avenged.
Times were now “flush” and the tide of emigration “swept across the state with an impetus that carried everything before it.”[79]During the summer of 1855 “land-hunters, claim seekers and explorers” steadily flowed into northwestern Iowa. At this time little more was done by many of the settlers than to make temporary improvements, after which they returned eastward planning to take up permanent possession in the following summer.[80]
The main arteries for this westward movement were the Little Sioux and the Des Moines. From Fort Dodge the wave spread out in fan-shape to the furthermost limits of the frontier. The lines of the movement were in the main determined by two facts: Fort Dodge had been established as a United States land office for the territory west and north, and Lizard Creek made that region readily accessible to settlers. Up the Des Moines, settlers had pushed to the point where Jackson, Minnesota, now stands. Many had stopped at occasional points along the Des Moines and made permanent settlements. Near the present site of Algona, in 1854, two brothers, Asa C. Call and Ambrose A. Call, made “the first settlement on either branch of the Des Moines above the forks.”[81]To the west of Algona at Medium Lake was the “Irish Colony”—a group of five or six families of Irish extraction from Kane County, Illinois. This settlement has become the Emmetsburg of to-day.[82]George Granger had staked out and settled upon a claim in Emmet County just south of the State line, and beyond this was Springfield, Minnesota, with six families. Thus a line of isolated settlements extended up the Des Moines Valley from Fort Dodge to Springfield.
To the northwest of Fort Dodge the incoming settlers moved up the course of Lizard Creek, which they followed to its beginning. Thence they crossed to the Little Sioux and settled near Sioux Rapids and Peterson. Near the latter place in the midwinter of 1855-1856 had come J. A. Kirchner and Jacob Kirchner, in company with Ambrose S. Mead. They did nothing at this time but select claims and return to Cedar Falls, from whence they returned in the early spring. After putting in his crops J. A. Kirchner had returned to New York. About the time of his departure, James Bicknell with his family and two men by the name of Wilcox also arrived at the little settlement in Clay County. Up the Little Sioux to the north were about six families at what became known as Gillett’s Grove.[83]In the early spring of 1856 the Hon. William Freeborn of Red Wing, Minnesota, and others projected a settlement at Spirit Lake. Their first attempt had not met with much success, and they now awaited the coming of the spring of 1857 to renew the attempt.[84]In the late summer of 1856 about forty people had settled along the shores of Lake Okoboji and Spirit Lake.
Following the original movement up Lizard Creek and the Des Moines River, settlers had begun pushingup the course of the Little Sioux from the Missouri River to a later junction with those coming by way of Lizard Creek to Sioux Rapids and beyond. This movement was marked by an initial settlement at the present site of Smithland, Woodbury County, in about 1851 by a group of three apostate Mormons from Kanesville.[85]In the spring of 1856 the Milford, Massachusetts, Emigration Company had founded a colony of about twelve families near Pilot Rock in Cherokee County.[86]The site chosen was a little north of the present city of Cherokee. Nearly ten miles above this point was a second settlement. To the northeast of these, in Buena Vista County, was the Weaver family at Barnes’s Grove. Above this in O’Brien County was H. H. Waterman, at Waterman, who could boast of being the only white man within the confines of that county. Further up the Little Sioux, in the southwestern corner of Clay County, were the families of Mead, Kirchner, and Taylor.[87]
This stretch of settlements outlined the extreme limits of the frontier. To the west there were no settlers; while to the north and northeast the nearest settlements were those on the Minnesota and Watonwan rivers.[88]Although on ceded ground, all of these settlements were in the heart of the Indian country, where the passing of Indian bands was not uncommon. All were separated from each other by vast stretches of prairie, and frequently the settlers of one place were wholly unaware of the presenceof any other white people in the region. Their complete isolation from each other and consequent helplessness in case of Indian attacks were probably best known by the Indians who not infrequently visited them. This isolation appears the more complete when it is recalled that the nearest railroad station in Iowa at that time was Iowa City—over two hundred miles away.
By 1857, therefore, the northwestern frontier may be described as “commencing at Sioux City and extending irregularly in a northeasterly direction, by way of Correctionville, Cherokee, Waterman, Peterson, Sioux Rapids, Gillett’s Grove and Okoboji, to Spirit Lake; thence turning abruptly to the east by way of Estherville and Emmet to the headwaters of the Des Moines and Blue Earth Rivers, where it extended into Minnesota, terminating at Mankato.”[89]
Thus was the meeting-ground of the Indians and the white settlers rather roughly demarked when the winter of 1856-1857 began. Although the fertility of its soil had not been doubted and its great natural beauty and attractiveness as a region of boundless prairies had never been disputed, the northwest had acquired a reputation of climatic extremes—of hot summers and cold winters. This partly accounted for the fact that many settlers delayed their permanent coming to the region until they were amply prepared for the vicissitudes of climate which they must endure in their new homes. Glowing reports had brought the region into general notice, and bythe fall of 1856 many people to the east were preparing to migrate to this wonderful country in the not distant future.
“The winter of 1856-7 set in with a fury, steadiness and severity, which make it a land-mark in the experience of every person”[90]who passed through it. The storms came early in November, and for weeks northwestern Iowa witnessed nothing but a succession of terrific blizzards, accompanied by the most intense cold. By December 1, 1856, the snow was three feet deep on the level and from fifteen to twenty in the ravines and other low places. Communication of settlement with settlement was well-nigh impossible. The scattered settlers were illy prepared for such a winter: their cabins were unfinished and generally without floors, as all lumber had to be hauled a distance of more than one hundred miles. Most of the settlers had planted no crops during the preceding growing season; hence provisions were scarce and could only be obtained by the use of snowshoes and hand sleds. Wild game was nowhere to be had, for it had either migrated before the oncoming storms or perished in the snow.
As the season progressed the intensity of the cold also increased; while heavy wind-driven snows continued to fall at frequent intervals. The prairies became bleak and barren snow-covered wastes, lashed by terrific winds and untenanted by man or beast. The closing of February and the opening of March witnessed no abatement in the severity of the winter. The snow which had been falling the wholewinter long yet remained on the ground. Indeed, the season was so prolonged that it is said spring came only in late April, while May and June were cold. In July great banks of snow were yet to be seen in some of the sheltered places.[91]
Although the white settlers suffered considerably from self-imposed denial of food and from unsuitable houses in which to shelter themselves, their privations could not compare with those of the Indians. In Dakota, which was their winter home, they suffered terribly. Their game was gone—where they did not know. Nor were they able to follow it if they had known. As the winds swept over the prairies of Dakota and sharply penetrated the thickets wherein they lodged, their desperation grew apace. At last, in the closing days of February, the intense suffering from cold and famine could be endured no longer and they sallied forth. The course of their march spread out to the east, the north, and the south, and took them to the white settlements along the Iowa and Minnesota frontiers where they sought and took both food and shelter.[92]
Of the settlements made or projected in northwestern Iowa previous to 1857, those having preeminent interest in this connection were along the shores of Lake Okoboji and Spirit Lake in Dickinson County. Although this lake region had been visited many times in the spring and summer of 1855, no settlements had been made at that time. The visitors had simply planned to return as soon as arrangements for permanent occupancy could be perfected. They had been attracted thither by the tales told by Indians and traders concerning the great natural beauty of the region.
For some time the lake region had been well-known to the traders and voyageurs of the upper Mississippi Valley, and their tales concerning it were all favorable. The French interpreter of the Lewis and Clark expedition wrote so clearly of the region as to leave no doubt as to his having been there. He it was who first wrote of theLac D’Esprit, mentioning it for its great natural beauty of location and as being the chief seat of one of the Dakotan tribes. Hunters, traders, trappers, and adventurers visited the region frequently thereafter, but left only oral accounts as to its character and worth. The sameregion was visited in the summer of 1838 by Nicollet and John C. Fremont, who made observations as to elevation, latitude, and longitude. It was following this official visit that white frontiersmen began to frequent the locality.
All reports of the region indicated it was the favored home of the Wahpekuta Yankton Sioux. Spirit Lake especially was believed by this tribe to be the scene of various myths and legends intimately connected with the origin and life of the tribe. It was reputed to be always under the watchful care of the Great Spirit whose presence therein was clearly evidenced by the lake’s turbulent waters which were never at rest. It was this suggestion of the supernatural—a sort of mystic veil surrounding the region—that led many people to visit it. Some came only to view the lake and, having done so, departed to add perhaps one more legendary tale to the volume of its romance. Practically every visitor enlarged upon the great charms of the groves of natural timber bordering its shores.
But in nearly all of the accounts and tales of the region there was persistent confusion with regard to the several bodies of water. The Indians had always plainly distinguished at least three lakes; while reports by white men as persistently spoke of only one. The Indians knew of Okoboji, “the place of rest”, of Minnetonka, “the great water”, and of Minnewaukon, “the lake of demons or spirits” orLac D’Espritor Spirit Lake as it is known to-day. It is the first of these, Lake Okoboji, with which thisnarrative is primarily concerned. Upon its borders the first permanent white settlers built their cabins and staked their claims; and here was perpetrated the awful tragedy which has come to be known as the Spirit Lake Massacre.
The lakes, lying closely together as a group, occupy a large portion of the townships of Spirit Lake, Center Grove, and Lakeville. The northernmost and somewhat the largest of the group is Spirit Lake, which is about ten square miles in area. The northern shore of this lake touches upon or extends into Minnesota along practically the whole of its course. To the south, not connected at this time, and extending in a narrowed, almost tortuous course, stretches East Okoboji for a distance of over six miles. At no point is East Okoboji much over three-quarters of a mile in width. West Okoboji lies to the west of its companion and is connected with it by a narrow strait a few yards in width. The west lake stretches to the west and north, circling in a segment of a circle nearly halfway back to the north and east to Spirit Lake. In length it is about the same as the east lake, although its width is over four times as great at one point. Issuing from the southernmost bay of East Okoboji is the outlet stream, which at a distance of six miles from its source effects a junction with the main stream of the Little Sioux.
The shores of the Okoboji lakes are in the main well wooded, while those of Spirit Lake have only occasional clumps of trees. Along the shores of the latter prairie and water usually meet without interruption by bands of timber. In some respects the Okobojis present a reasonably good reproduction of the smaller lakes of southern New York and New England. Thus easterners felt that here could be reproduced the familiar scenes of “back home”. Although the attractiveness of the place was widely known, no one had settled in the region before the middle of the century. The vanguard of the permanent settlers came on July 16, 1856, with the arrival of Rowland Gardner and his family.
THE LAKE REGION: THE SCENE OF THE SPIRIT LAKE MASSACRE
THE LAKE REGION: THE SCENE OF THE SPIRIT LAKE MASSACRE
Rowland Gardner was a native of Connecticut, having been born in New Haven in 1815. Here he spent his boyhood years and learned the trade of comb-maker. Growing tired of life in New Haven he migrated to Seneca, New York, where he resumed his trade. At the occupation of comb-maker he had been able to accumulate some three thousand dollars, which, for the time, was considered rather a comfortable little fortune.[93]On March 22, 1836, he married Frances M. Smith, and four children, Mary, Eliza, Abigail, and Rowland, were born while the family lived at Seneca. Abigail, the youngest daughter who is to figure so largely in the story of the Spirit Lake Massacre, was born in 1843. Later the father abandoned the trade of comb-maker and turned to that of sawyer. This change in occupation did not come, however, until the family had again moved—this time to Greenwood, New York. Again, in 1850, they removed to the near-by town of Rexville.
But Gardner had a love for roaming that couldnot be satisfied by short moves; and so it was not long before he left Rexville for Ohio. His first stop in that State was at Edyington, where he opened a boarding house. His next resolve was to go to the then Far West. Thus, in the spring of 1854 he made his way with his family to Shell Rock, Iowa.[94]Here the family spent their first winter in the West and suffered much from the change of climate. Shell Rock, however, was only a temporary stopping place, for Gardner had no thought of settling short of the farthest bounds of the frontier.
In the early spring of 1855 Gardner, in company with his son-in-law, Harvey Luce, made a rather extensive prospecting tour to the west and north. He seems to have decided to settle, for a time at least, at Clear Lake; for a little later we find him and Luce with their united families moving up the Shell Rock Valley to Nora Springs and thence across the prairie to Clear Lake. This journey consumed the greater portion of April and early May. Settling too late to plant crops that season, the families could not look forward to a very comfortable year.
Gardner and Luce decided upon Clear Lake for the same reason that later led them to settle at Lake Okoboji. To a New Englander accustomed to the lakes and streams of his native parts, Clear Lake with its waters and groves made a strong appeal—one that could not readily be resisted. Open prairies seemed to be “the abomination of desolation” itself. The Mason City settlement on Lime Creek was thought of, but the natural advantages of Clear Lakeoutweighed any inclination in that direction. At this time Mason City was little more than a station on the westward trail: it consisted of only three or four houses on the open, wind-swept prairie.
It was while the Gardner family was living at Clear Lake that there occurred the so-called “Grindstone War”, in which indeed they were active participants. After the scare had spent its force, Gardner again grew uneasy; and, having heard of the attractiveness of the lake region farther to the west along the frontier, he became anxious to settle there. Thus, scarcely had they harvested a first crop when the Gardners were once more en route to the westward. The small returns from the sale of the claim at Clear Lake were invested in some oxen, cows, and young cattle.[95]
To the homeseeker the lake region was regarded as a “promised land”. This was largely due to its natural beauties as well as to the very great abundance of fish in the lake waters and the plenitude of wild game in the groves along its shores. Many claim seekers had visited the region previous to July, 1856, but no claims had been staked out. The Gardners found no settlers at the time of their arrival.[96]In fact no settlers had been seen by them since leaving the claim of the Call brothers near the present site of Algona.
The journey from Clear Lake had been an arduous one, having been made with ox teams hitched to heavy, cumbrous carts into which had been loaded not only the family but the household goods and thefarming implements as well as the food supply. Thus burdened the oxen could make only slow progress even under the most favorable conditions. Furthermore, it seems that the Iowa plains had suffered from an over-abundance of rain that summer: numberless quagmires were encountered; while many streams could hardly be forded on account of their swollen condition. Added to these conditions was the uncertainty of the route—due to lack of knowledge of the country. Many a time it was necessary to unload and carry articles of freight over difficult places. Enduring these trials with the fortitude of well-tried pioneers they steadily pushed on. Upon July 16th they came to the southeastern shores of West Okoboji; and here they rested, for they were at their journey’s end.
Since leaving New York the Gardner family had been augmented by a union with the family of Harvey Luce. The latter had planned from the first to unite his fortunes with those of the Gardners, but had been unable to do so at the time of their leaving New York. Luce had married Mary, the eldest of the Gardner girls; and at the time of their arrival at Lake Okoboji, the family numbered two children, Albert aged four and Amanda aged one.[97]The Gardner-Luce party was thus composed of nine persons at the time of its arrival.
Luce and Gardner did not settle at once: while the families tented, the men spent several days in a careful survey of the lake shores and the surrounding prairie region, the better to determine a suitablesite. Since the lake region was to be the place of their permanent settlement they desired to make a careful selection of lands.
In the end it was decided to build cabins upon the southeastern shore of the west lake. The location selected was several rods southeast of what is now Pillsbury’s Point upon the high, oak-wooded ridge which terminated in that point of land. The site was ideal. To the north and northwest the outlook presented a sweeping view of the lake; while to the south there was as fair a prospect of prairie land as any country could afford. No better selection for a home could have been made. The erection of a log cabin for the Gardners was begun at once. Fronting south, this cabin was for its time rather pretentious, since it was one and one-half stories high.
The season being far too advanced for the planting of crops little could be done besides preparing the land for the next year. This was accomplished by breaking some of the prairie sod. In addition hay was made as feed for the oxen and other cattle during the long winter season. The making of the hay was largely carried through by Mrs. Gardner and her children, including Mrs. Luce; while Gardner and Luce pushed ahead with the building of the cabins in order to afford protection for all as soon as possible. Shelter was also provided for the cattle. By the time this had been done, the season was so far advanced that, though the Luce cabin had been begun, its completion had to be postponed until the return of favorable weather in the coming year.Thus it came about that the Luces took up their abode with the Gardners for the winter which was now upon them.[98]
While out prospecting for claim sites in the two or three days following their arrival, Luce and Gardner heard a report of fire-arms and upon tracing it to its source found that other settlers had just arrived in the vicinity. The camp of the new arrivals was in process of being pitched on the shore of the west lake near the strait connecting the two Okobojis. The party was composed of Carl and William Granger, Bertell E. Snyder, and Dr. Isaac H. Harriott. They had come to the lake region for the purpose of examining the country with a view to future settlement.[99]Having completed their reconnaissance, the members of the party were preparing to spend some time in the neighborhood hunting and fishing.
These newcomers came to be so well pleased with the advantages of the region that they finally resolved to spend the winter here and possibly make a permanent settlement. After reaching this conclusion they constructed a cabin on Smith’s Point north of the strait. These men, moreover, were members of a townsite company which had been founded in May, 1856, at Red Wing, Minnesota. As promoters it was their purpose to start a town on the border of some one of the lakes in this region. The Grangers as leading stockholders in the concern laid claim to the point upon which the cabin was built, as well as to all the land lying along the northern shore of theeast lake. After resolving upon permanent settlement all but William Granger decided to remain during the coming fall and winter and engage in preparing the townsite for prospective settlers. William Granger was the only married man of the group, and his purpose in returning to Red Wing was two-fold—that of advertising the townsite which had been selected and of bringing back his family in the spring of 1857.[100]
Although the Gardner and Luce families were the first to arrive at the lakes, they had not long to wait before other groups began to arrive, all of whom hurried preparations for the winter that was now not far removed. The sound of the saw and hammer was soon heard in a number of places along the lake shores, while signs of still greater activity in the future grew apace. All of the newcomers located within a radius of six miles of the Gardner cabin.[101]The nearest settlement was that at Springfield, Minnesota, about eighteen miles to the northeast; while to the south the nearest was at Gillett’s Grove, more than forty miles away.[102]Neither of these settlements had made any provision for its protection against a hostile party of any kind. So far as anyone knew no reason existed for their apparent feeling of assurance against danger.
So rapidly had emigration set in that by November 1, 1856, there were six separate groups of people prepared to spend the winter in this vicinity. The first family to arrive after the Gardners was that of James H. Mattock, who came with his wife and fivechildren directly from Delaware County, Iowa. They settled south of the strait, nearly opposite the site chosen by the party from Red Wing, and the place of their settlement has since become locally known as Mattock’s Grove. The site was about one mile from the Gardner-Luce cabin. With the Mattock family had also come a Robert Madison, who was about eighteen years of age. Robert Madison had preceded the other members of his family, who were still in Delaware County but were planning to move to the lake region when suitable accommodations had been provided for them by the son.[103]
From Hampton, Franklin County, Iowa, there came in the late fall the families of Joel Howe, Alvin Noble, and Joseph M. Thatcher. These people had been neighbors at Hampton and had come west as a group. They settled along the east shore of East Okoboji, some two or three miles from the Mattock cabin. The Howe family was large, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Howe and six children. Jonathan, the eldest of the children and a young man of twenty-three, remained in Hampton, since it was planned that he should come out in the following spring or as soon as he could procure the supplies which would be needed by the three families in their work of pioneering. Alvin Noble, Howe’s son-in-law, brought with him his wife and one child—a two year old son. The Thatcher family was also small, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher and a child about seven months of age. The Howe cabin was the first to be erected and was also the nearest to those on WestOkoboji. When it had been completed, all hands joined in the erection of a cabin about a mile beyond or northeast of Howe’s place which was to be jointly occupied by the Noble and Thatcher families until further arrangements could be made. Boarding with the latter families was Morris Markham—a sort of frontiersman from Hampton, Iowa.[104]
Late in September came Mr. and Mrs. William Marble from Linn County, Iowa. Having stopped temporarily on the Okoboji lakes, the Marbles after some prospecting decided to locate on the southwest shore of Spirit Lake—distant, in an air line, about six miles from the Gardners and perhaps a mile less from the Howes. Their cabin was the most isolated of all—which made it easily possible for events to transpire upon the shores of the Okobojis without the knowledge of the Marbles for days or even weeks.[105]
Such was the chain of settlements of those pioneers who were to pass the frightful winter of 1856-1857 on this isolated frontier. As winter closed in upon them they felt reasonably secure, since Indians had only very rarely been seen. With little or no experience of frontier life on an American prairie, they believed their supply of provisions to be ample for the closed season. No one anticipated an unusual winter. During February a trapper named Joseph Harshman came to the cabin of the Red Wing people. Being a man of genial disposition he was encouraged to spend the remaining portion of the winter with them. Whence he came no oneknew; nor did anyone inquire concerning his antecedents, since on the frontier such questions were regarded as discourteous to the stranger.
About eighteen miles to the northeast, on the Des Moines River in Minnesota, was the newly formed settlement of Springfield. Here were to be found by the winter of 1856-1857 about six or seven families. The town had been platted in the summer of 1856 by three brothers—William, George, and Charles Wood of Mankato, Minnesota. For many years these brothers had been widely known in Minnesota and the northwest as Indian traders. By the winter of 1856-1857 they had concentrated their trading interests in a store in Springfield, which made the little village the meeting and trading place of the Indians and whites for many miles around. Indeed, Springfield was the only settlement of note within a radius of fifty miles.[106]
Most of the settlers comprising the Springfield, or as it was sometimes called the “Des Moines City” settlement, had come from northeastern Iowa. The vanguard had appeared in August, 1856, and had located on the east side of the Des Moines River. The Wood brothers had come somewhat earlier and had established their post on the west side of the river, where they laid out the town which they planned to promote. As in the region of the lakes, the cabins were widely scattered up and down the river for seven or eight miles.[107]By the opening of winter the settlement had about seventeen able-bodied men and twelve adult women; but by March,1857, the number had somewhat increased so that the settlement had about forty-seven people in all, living in seven or eight family groups.
In general the cabins were centered about the home of J. B. Thomas, who had built in the edge of the timber near the river about one and a half miles from the Wood brothers’ store. In this family were Mr. and Mrs. Thomas and five children, the eldest of whom was a boy, Willie, of twelve or thirteen years. About two miles from the Thomas cabin upon the open prairie lived Joshua Stewart with his wife and three children; while the Wheeler cabin was about three-fourths of a mile and the John Bradshaw home nearly one and a half miles away. The Adam P. Shiegley cabin, where he and one son lived, was the most isolated, being far removed from all of the others. In addition, there were the homes of Strong, Skinner, Smith, Church, and Harshman.
In the family of Dr. E. B. N. Strong, the community surgeon, were Dr. and Mrs. Strong, two children, and Miss Eliza Gardner, the daughter of Rowland Gardner of the Okoboji settlement.[108]The Strongs had made the acquaintance of the Gardners after the latter had come to the lakes. As Mrs. Strong was not in good health Eliza Gardner had been prevailed upon to accompany the Strongs to their new home at Springfield. In the Church home were Mr. and Mrs. William L. Church, two children, and Miss Drusilla Swanger, a sister of Mrs. Church. The family of J. B. Skinner comprised, beside himself, his wife and two children; while in the Harshmanhome there were also two children. Mr. and Mrs. William Nelson had one child; while Mr. and Mrs. Robert Smith and a second Harshman and wife were without children.[109]The unmarried men of the community were Joseph Cheffins, Henry Tretts, Jareb Palmer, David N. Carver, Nathaniel Frost, John Henderson, and John Bradshaw. As the result of being badly frozen during the winter of 1856-1857, it had been necessary for Dr. Strong to amputate both of Henderson’s legs and one of Smith’s. These operations had been performed shortly before the visit of the Indians in March, 1857.[110]
By February the unusual severity of the winter was occasioning some alarm at the lake settlements—particularly as the stock of provisions laid by for the winter was nearing exhaustion. In view of the deep snow and the intense cold it seemed more than foolish to think of attempting to make one’s way even to the nearest depot of supplies—which was Fort Dodge. The banks of snow were fifteen and often twenty feet high and offered an almost impassable obstruction to the use of teams. Add to this the intensity of the cold, and one can well imagine what courage or dire necessity it must have required to induce the traveller to set out for the purpose of making his way over an untrodden and in many respects an unknown waste of snow. But the food situation was such that it became increasingly evident that some effort must soon be made to relieve a condition which might become intolerable. Moreover, no one had had any experience in this section which would serve as an index to indicate how long the winter season might continue.
Finally, it was decided that Luce and Thatcher were to return to their former homes in the eastern section of the State in quest of the needed food.With a sled and an ox team they set out in the early days of February. The journey proved to be one of almost incredible hardships: the cold was nearly unendurable, while the banks of snow so impeded their progress that not infrequently little advance was made as the result of a whole day’s effort. In the end, however, they made their way safely to Hampton, but only to suffer the disappointment of learning that the settlers here could do little or nothing for them. Compelled to go still farther, they pushed on to Shell Rock, Cedar Falls, and Waterloo before they were able to obtain sufficient supplies for all the people at the lakes.
Securing at last the needed supplies, they remained at Cedar Falls for a brief time to permit the recuperation of both their oxen and themselves. Finally, they began preparations for the return journey which would probably prove more trying than the one east, for now they would be compelled to face the cutting winds and hard driven snows of the open prairies. Although warning of the possible hardships of such a journey was given by Luce and Thatcher, the prospects did not deter four young men from accompanying the two settlers upon their return to the lakes. These men were Robert Clark, a young friend of Luce from Waterloo; Jonathan Howe, the son of Joel Howe already settled at Okoboji; Enoch Ryan from Hampton, a son-in-law of Joel Howe; and Asa Burtch, a brother of Mrs. Joseph M. Thatcher.
In spite of the difficulties encountered, all went well on the return until the party reached a point known as Shippey’s near the mouth of Cylinder Creek in Palo Alto County, about ten miles south of the “Irish Colony”. Here the overloaded and exhausted oxen were unable to proceed any further. After some deliberation it was decided that Burtch and Thatcher should remain at Shippey’s and care for the oxen until they had regained their strength sufficiently to allow them to proceed upon the journey. Meanwhile, Luce, Clark, Howe, and Ryan were to hasten onward to the lakes with the good word that succor was near at hand. They made the trip on foot and in two days, reaching the settlements on the evening of March 6th. Here they found all well with the settlers who rejoiced at the prospect of relief in the near future.[111]
By a careful husbanding of resources and a system of mutual exchange the settlers had been able to prevent much suffering which a lack of care might have entailed. But the time had not elapsed without the occasional appearance of Indians. Apparently a number of red men were wintering in the groves near by, as it seemed unlikely that they could have come from any great distance. They were always friendly in their attitude toward the whites, who from time to time took occasion to relieve their too evident suffering from cold and hunger. They had not only been invited within the cabins to share the comfortable firesides, but were also encouragedto share in the settlers’ humble meals if they happened to arrive at meal time. They never left a settler’s cabin empty-handed at any time.
But as the time for the opening of spring neared it had been noted that the Indians grew more restless and less sociable: they seemed to avoid contact with the whites as much as possible. At the same time, the settlers, untrained in Indian ways, saw nothing singular in their later attitude and felt no occasion for alarm. Future developments, however, were to show that there had been more than one occasion for alarm. More than once the Indians had been observed to stalk each cabin and in other ways manifest an undue interest in the settlers. This, however, was accounted for at the time as untutored curiosity in things new and strange.
For a number of years preceding the killing of Sidominadota another Indian band, similar in character to that led by the murdered leader, had roamed the country and terrorized the people between the Des Moines and the Big Sioux rivers. Under the leadership of Inkpaduta or “Scarlet Point”, this band had frequented in particular the headwaters of the Des Moines: they resorted to the Big Sioux and beyond only when fleeing from punishment.[112]Their refuge beyond the Big Sioux was with the Yanktons, whose camps along the James or Dakota River were always an asylum for outlawed and disorderly Sioux bands. Here Inkpaduta was free to go at any time for shelter and defense. But with no other group was Inkpaduta able to maintain even the semblance of friendly relations.[113]The Inkpaduta band of Indians had become well-known either by the name of its leader or as the “Red Top” band, from the fact that it frequently carried pennons of red cloth attached to lance ends.[114]
Inkpaduta, the leader of the band, was a Wahpekuta Sioux of a villainous and unsavory reputation even among his own tribesmen, who feared or hated him. Due to his misdeeds he had been expelled frommembership in his owngensdivision of the Wahpekuta Sioux.[115]But this did not serve as a lesson in proper conduct; instead it seemed only to enrage him to the point of committing other and worse deeds—if such were possible. Owing to his lawless disposition a serious quarrel arose among the Wahpekutas. Originally this division seems to have arisen out of a very marked difference in opinion as to the proper attitude to assume toward their hereditary enemies, the Sac and Fox Indians. One section advised a cessation of hostilities which seemed to have resulted in the accomplishment of no purpose. Moreover, in several of the encounters the Wahpekutas had suffered severe losses which they had not been able to successfully recoup.
A second division of the tribe led by Wamdisapa, or “Black Eagle”, was so quarrelsome and revengeful that it stoutly opposed any consideration looking toward peace. Black Eagle is characterized as “a reckless, lawless fellow, always at war” with other tribes. After the treaties of Prairie du Chien in 1825 and 1830, he was “one of the first” of the Sioux to violate their provisions by making war upon the neighboring tribes. His conduct in this respect grew especially bad after the treaty of 1830, when his attitude won for him the “ill will of all his people”, who claimed that his conduct provoked their enemies to make many reprisals upon them. Refusing to alter his conduct, Wamdisapa and a small group of kindred spirits were virtually driven away from the tribe and no longer considered as its members.[116]
Striking out boldly across the prairies of Minnesota, the outlaws took a course which led them south and west: they were evidently headed for the lower James, the place of their future rendezvous. Their course led them to the present site of Algona, where they tarried for some time. Resuming their flight, they travelled westward, crossing the Big Sioux. Finally, they established themselves on the Jacques or James River in the vicinity of Spirit Lake, South Dakota.[117]After removing to this region they were not infrequently known as the “Santies” of the James. They seemed to have lost their identity with the Wahpekutas.
As this party of defection grew in numbers, differences of opinion arose among them. After suffering disruption the band reorganized under two leaders or chieftans—Wamdisapa and Tasagi (“His Cane”). Under this dual leadership, they seemed for a time to prosper as never before. But their misdeeds became so numerous that the neighboring Sioux requested them to leave the country.[118]The dual chieftanship was not continued beyond the lives of the original holders, since internal jealousies and ambitions rendered it not only undesirable but impossible. The quarrels were largely due to temperamental differences in the leaders. Tasagi was of a mild disposition; while Wamdisapa was noted for his quarrelsome, ferocious, and revengeful nature.
After signing the treaty of 1836, Wamdisapa shifted his band to the Blue Earth region. From here he conducted raids into the Iowa country against the Sacs and Foxes, who, in retaliating,made no distinction between the Indians of Wamdisapa and those of Tasagi on the Cannon River. This caused much suffering among the Cannon River people; but Wamdisapa could not be prevailed upon to discontinue his raids. In the meantime Wamdisapa’s son, Inkpaduta, had grown to manhood and leadership. He seems to have inherited to the full the relentless cruelty of his father. More ambitious for leadership than his father, he planned to unite as speedily as possible the leadership which his father had been content to share with Tasagi.
When the consolidation of the leadership did not progress as rapidly as Inkpaduta wished, it is said that he hastened the event by securing the murder of Tasagi. This occurred probably in 1839.[119]As Inkpaduta had planned so it came to pass that upon Wamdisapa’s early death the two divisions accepted in the main Inkpaduta’s leadership. At the same time a strong faction refused his leadership. Becoming alarmed for his safety Inkpaduta fled further into the Blue Earth country, hoping thereby to gain time for the firmer union of his loyal followers.[120]Even so he could not tarry long since the Cannon River Wahpekutas were on his trail. With a still smaller number of followers he again fled—this time to northern Iowa—preferring to brave the hatred of the Sacs and Foxes to that of his fellow Wahpekutas.
It is thought that the incident of Tasagi’s murder and the later flights nearly broke up the band of Wamdisapa, so that it could scarcely be said toexist. In a few years, however, through a prolonged series of intertribal quarrels conditions had become such that Inkpaduta was recognized as the undisputed master of the greater and more turbulent sections of both of the original bands. By the time of the successful realization of his plans—about 1848—Inkpaduta had made a reputation for relentless savagery that had spread throughout northwestern Iowa, Dakota, and Minnesota. Upon him rests the stigma of having planned the murder not only of Tasagi but also of his own father.[121]His band seemed to thrive upon its evil reputation: thus it is said that “from time to time some villainous Sioux committed a murder, or other gross crime upon some other member of the tribe, and fled for fear of vengeance to the outlawed band of Wahpakootas for protection.”[122]
The Inkpaduta band of Indians became, as it were, accursed. It could call no place its home—excepting perhaps the temporary winter rendezvous with the Spirit Lake Yanktons. Thus the members of this band became as “Ishmaelites whose hands were against all other men”.[123]The character of its members was that of its leader, who acted as a magnet to draw to him the worst types from the surrounding tribes. Even according to the Indian moral code they would be classed as toughs and criminals. Inkpaduta was universally reputed as the most blood-thirsty Indian leader in the Northwest. Whites and Indians upon whom his displeasure might fall feared him as death itself. The membersof his band became widely known as the renegades and outlaws of the frontier. Spending their lives as wanderers and marauders, they never remained long in any locality. “They went as far west as the Missouri, as far north as the Cheyenne, as far south and east as the Upper Des Moines, in Iowa.”[124]Their life of necessity was but an outgrowth of their villainous disposition. It has been said that their actions grew so unbearably bad that even Sidominadota—by many regarded as an arch fiend—left the band and went far down the course of the Des Moines the better to escape the wrath of its leader.[125]It was soon after this act that Sidominadota and Lott crossed paths with the result that the Indian’s life paid the forfeit.
Many of the unpleasant incidents in frontier life from 1836 to 1857 in Minnesota and Iowa were directly chargeable to these Bedouins of the prairies who tarried at a “trading house but a few minutes and in seeming fear and dread hurried away.” The first exploit officially credited to the band was the massacre of Wamundiyakapi, a Wahpekuta chief, along with seventeen warriors on the headwaters of the Des Moines in Murray County, Minnesota, in 1849. Prior to 1850 they had broken up, plundered, and driven away two parties of United States surveyors. The cabins of numerous settlers in the upper Des Moines country had also been wantonly destroyed and they had been driven from the country—in face of the fact that it was well known what band was at work and where its usual rendezvous was located.[126]Settlers along the Boyer Riverhad also suffered outrages at its hands as late as 1852. Major William Williams stated it as his opinion that a general attack upon the frontier was planned to occur about 1855; but the plans failed for some unknown reason. Inkpaduta seems to have been much displeased thereat and attempted to take upon himself the execution of the original plan.[127]
The unusually strenuous life which had been led by the band was having a telling effect upon its membership: by 1852 there were evidences of a near dispersion. It seems that even to a criminal Indian compulsory exile from his race was distasteful, and one by one the followers of Inkpaduta were slipping away. To stimulate an interest in his band, Inkpaduta appears to have settled upon a plan of making concerted attacks upon the northwestern frontier of settlements; and he was successful in creating in the minds of some the belief that he had general control of no less than five or six hundred warriors operating along the frontier in isolated bands of fifteen or twenty Indians each. It is now positively known that such was not the case and that at the time of its greatest prosperity the Inkpaduta band did not number more than fifty or sixty souls. By the autumn of 1856 the group had become so diminished in numbers that it was upon the eve of dispersion.
This rapid disintegration of the band could be accounted for by the character of its leader. His arrogance was rapidly rendering followers impossible. Inkpaduta, in 1856, was evidently between fifty and sixty years of age. He was born, probablyin 1800, on the Watonwan River in Minnesota. For a Wahpekuta Sioux he was large, being probably more than six feet tall and very strongly built. He was not a person of pleasing appearance; for, coupled with the immoral character of his life, smallpox had badly marked him. Indeed, he presented an unusually repulsive appearance. His features were coarse; his countenance was of brutal cast; and he was very near-sighted. His near-sightedness became total blindness in old age, so that at the time of the battle of the Little Big Horn he was carefully piloted about by his small grandsons who, managing to save him from the general slaughter, succeeded in having him safely carried into Canada in the party of Sitting Bull.[128]
Although his band as a whole was of bad repute, Inkpaduta stood out above his followers on account of his hatred for the whites, his revengeful disposition, and his nearly matchless success in war.[129]Mrs. Sharp speaks of him as “a savage monster in human shape, fitted only for the darkest corner in Hades.”[130]“Of all the base characters among his fellow outlaws, his nature seems to have been the vilest, and his heart the blackest.”[131]“It was only as a war chief that he won a place in the admiration of the Indians. In civil life they would have none of him. Except where bloodshedding was the business in hand, they knew by sore experience he was not to be trusted.... It is scarcely probable from all of his conduct that he was other than he seemed, a terrible monster.”[132]
His unusual disposition was coupled with an ambition to see his people and tribe restored once again to their wide and extensive hunting ranges. As he witnessed the frontier expanding westward he saw his great ambition vanish, and he was irritated beyond control. Unspeakably immoral himself, he nevertheless hated the vices of the whites that were slowly taking hold upon the members of his band and race.
He yearned to be a party to the treaties of the Wahpekutas as a chief and to share in the annuities which resulted therefrom. The annuities, with the exception of those of 1854 and 1856, he was permitted to enjoy. Upon the death of Wamdisapa it appears that Inkpaduta was definitely dropped from membership in the Wahpekutas; and so he was not consulted regarding the disposal of the Minnesota and northwestern Iowa lands. It was thought that he had forfeited his council rights; but when the first payment was made he was on hand and demanded his share—which was denied him by the agent. He then turned his attention to the treaty-making Indians and compelled them to pay him the share which he claimed in the annuities. Thereafter he appeared annually, and only twice was he definitely refused. This denial was an affront extremely hard for him to bear, for it was to him a denial of his rights in the name and birthright of the Wahpekuta Sioux.[133]Claiming the Yankton and Santee tribal rights he appears to have gained an acknowledgment of them by the year 1865.
Burning with hatred for Indians and white men alike, Inkpaduta and his band left the Fort Ridgely Agency of the Lower Sioux in the autumn of 1856. They appear to have gone westward to the Big Sioux, where they spent some time in hunting and fishing. Their next and final move, before entering camp for the winter, was to the Yankton camp near Spirit Lake, South Dakota. There Inkpaduta planned to spend the winter of 1856-1857 with his well-tried friends and protectors. Doubtless during the fearful ordeal of that unusual season when they suffered from cold and hunger they recalled past wrongs, which they now credited with causing their present condition, and planned revenge upon their persecutors.[134]
The question has frequently been raised as to where the Inkpaduta band of Indians really passed the winter season of 1856-1857. Some writers have held that they remained at Loon Lake, in Minnesota; while others have insisted that they camped among the Yanktons in Dakota. The latter seems the more probable. Indeed, it is highly improbable that any Indians, after having suffered, as all agree this band had suffered during the winter in the valleys of theDes Moines and Little Sioux, would go down the valley of the one, as they are reputed to have done, and finding no food on the way down, as all taking this view agree was the case, until they arrived at Smithland, would then have doubled back upon a trail known to be barren. It is far more probable that the band wintered in Dakota, and with the approach of spring returned to their favorite hunting grounds. When they had been denied food at Smithland, they at once started up the Little Sioux and hastened to the hunting grounds of presumed plenty. One thing is certain: at the first breaking of winter they were on the move.[135]
It so happened that in February, 1857, there came a promise of spring, and with this promise Inkpaduta and his band of Indians left their winter camp. Verging upon starvation, they hastened on foot or on horseback toward the white settlements along the Iowa frontier; and it can truly be said of Inkpaduta that “wherever he appeared, murder and theft marked his trail”.[136]Reaching the Big Sioux, he and his followers passed down its course and across its waters to the beginning of the white settlements upon the Little Sioux in eastern Woodbury County.
At the time of arrival at these settlements the band was not large—having, presumably, been sadly depleted by desertion or by the severity of the winter. Apparently there were only about ten lodges in all, comprising men, women, and children. So far as known the warriors in February, 1857, included the following: Inkpaduta, the leader; RoaringCloud and Fire Cloud, the twin sons of Inkpaduta; Sacred Plume; Old Man; Putting on Walking; Rattling, son-in-law of Inkpaduta; Big Face; His Great Gun; Red Leg; Shifting Wind; and Tahtay-Shkope Kah-gah, whose name does not appear to be translatable. Nothing further need be said of the band’s personnel than that they had been well trained by Inkpaduta for the work in hand.[137]
As the settlements were neared it doubtless seemed to the Indians that they were approaching a land of plenty, for game which had hitherto been seen nowhere now began to make an occasional appearance. It must have seemed to their primitive minds that this region, their land of plenty, had been usurped by the whites. They were eager for revenge and prepared to carry arson, murder, and pillage the full length of Iowa’s western frontier.
It should be borne in mind, as events rapidly follow, that the deeds of these Indians were not by any means spontaneous or the result of any single or isolated incident or circumstance. As an explanation of what occurred in Iowa in the spring of 1857, there has been advanced the theory that Inkpaduta was merely seeking revenge for the murder of his brother, Sidominadota. This explanation has been advanced so frequently that it has been long accepted by most people as an undoubted fact. In all probability, however, such was not the motive of the Indians: on the contrary the real cause must be sought in the innate character of the band that committedthe tragic deed. In fact this unhappy incident in Iowa’s pioneer history was but one of many justly charged against this particular band of wild Bedouins of the prairies.
The murder of Sidominadota in all probability did not cause Inkpaduta much concern. Moreover, it should be said at the outset that Inkpaduta and Sidominadota were not brothers—as has so often been claimed—since Inkpaduta was a Lower Sioux, a Wahpekuta; while Sidominadota was an Upper Sioux, a Sisseton. Hence they could not have been brothers. It is true that in some phases of Indian relationship they might have been spoken of as brothers, but the conditions making such a reference even remotely possible were not present in the case of these two Indian leaders. Hence the theory of blood revenge can not be accepted. Furthermore, the term “brother” with the Sioux was not limited to blood relationship. “The tribe consists of a group of men calling one another brother, who are husbands to a group of women calling one another sister.” To call one another brother was a common practice and carried with it no idea of relationship as ordinarily interpreted.
Granting that the two were brothers, if Inkpaduta could not have avenged the death within a year he could not have done so thereafter according to the practice of blood revenge universally taught and practiced among the Sioux. In religious practice and ceremonial observance Inkpaduta was neither aheretic nor an outcast. The Sioux have never been noted for retentive memories in matters of revenge, but rather for their laxity.
Inkpaduta was superior to Sidominadota in rank; hence he would not have succeeded him and could not have taken up blood revenge as his successor. Moreover, these two men had bitterly disagreed, and Sidominadota had severed all relation and connection with Inkpaduta or any of his band and had grown to be one of the bitterest and most vindictive of enemies. Inkpaduta knew this. It is likely that Inkpaduta would have rejoiced at the news of his enemy’s death: it is certain that the murder would not have caused him much if any concern. “With him it was every man for himself; he never had a sentiment so noble and dignified as that of revenge, and would not turn on his heel to retaliate for the slaughter of his nearest friend.”[138]
Again, according to Siouan practice each band is absolutely separate: one band must not concern itself with the affairs of another. War would inevitably have followed such conduct. Although Inkpaduta was lawless in many respects, no instance in which he broke over the strict letter of this custom has come to light.
Finally, the bands were so widely separated and so busily engaged in dodging each other that “it is doubtful whether Inkpadoota ever heard the particulars of All Over Red’s murder; it is certain that he would not have been concerned if he had.”
Thus it seems evident that Inkpaduta could nothave been on a mission of blood revenge: it seems more probable that his own character and that of the members of his group, coupled with an overemphasized conviction of wrongs suffered in years past, allied with the intense suffering of the moment, had produced an outburst of savage frenzy culminating in murder. This would seem to be more in keeping with the known character of the Indian and in line with his known conduct. The idea of blood revenge has made a strong appeal since it was advanced as an explanation by Major William Williams, but it can not be made to rest upon a foundation of known and recognized facts in connection with the Spirit Lake Massacre.[139]