BURIAL OF CAPT. MARSH AND MEN.
Company "A," of the Sixth Minnesota, together with two men each from
the other companies, were detailed to accompany a burial party, with
instructions to properly bury all bodies found, and, if possible,
ascertain the fate of Captain Marsh and his thirty men, who had gone out
to intercept the Indians at the Redwood Crossing. In addition to this
detail we had a small detachment of citizen cavalry, under Captain Joe
Anderson, to act as scouts.
Our little command numbered, all told, 153--infantry, cavalry and
teamsters--and ninety-six horses, including twenty teams taken along
to carry camp and garrison equipage, rations and ammunition, and to
transport our wounded, either soldiers or citizens. The expedition was
under the immediate command of Captain H. P. Grant, of Company A. Major
Joseph R. Brown, better known as "Old Joe Brown," was in charge of the
scouts. He had a cool head, but no fighting qualities; had been an Indian
trader for many years, raised an Indian family, and knew a great deal
about Indian signs and customs. In this particular case, however, the
Indians fooled Joe. The first day out we found and buried about fifty
citizens, and at night went into camp in the river bottom near Redwood
Crossing. The night was dark and dismal, and particularly sad to us who
had been gathering up the dead all day long. The instructions to the
guard by Captain Anderson were of a very solemn nature, in view of the
surroundings and the probable fighting ahead. This, together with the
stillness of the night and the impression that a lurking foe was near,
made the boys feel rather uncomfortable.
[Illustration: DR. WILLIAMSON'S HOUSE.]
Deep sleep settled upon the camp, but the sentinels maintained a vigilant
watch, however, and the night slowly passed without incident. After
reveille the next morning we found Captain Marsh and his comrades, but
not one of them answered to "roll-call." We found the captain's body and
those of a few of his men in the river, and the rest of the bodies in the
thicket on the river bank, where they had evidently been hemmed in and
fired upon from all sides. Nearly all had been scalped, and were minus
guns and ammunition, for these had been confiscated by the redskins. We
buried the soldiers side by side, with their captain at their head, and
marked the place by a huge cross, so that the bodies might be easily
found and removed, which was subsequently done, when they were finally
buried in the Soldiers' cemetery at Fort Ridgely. After this last service
to our dead comrades, we took up the line of march, leaving the bottom
lands for the prairie above, and it was when passing over the bluff that
a large body of Indians, who were on their way to capture Saint Peter and
Mankato, espied us. What was our subsequent loss was the gain of the two
towns mentioned. Our scouts had crossed the river, making a detour to the
south, and thus missed making the acquaintance of our enemies, who had
their eyes on us.
We went into camp the second night near Birch Coolie, and sixteen miles
distant from Fort Ridgely, about 5 p. m., well tired out with our day's
march. Birch Coolie is a deep gorge running north and south in Redwood
county, Minnesota. What was then a bleak prairie is now a beautiful
farming community, and Birch Coolie a thriving village.
From information gathered by the scouts we felt comparatively safe.
[Illustration: "Chickens for Supper."]
Old Joe said: "Boys, go to sleep now and rest; you are as safe as you
would be in your mother's house; there is not an Indian within fifty
miles of you." At that very moment five hundred Indians were in the
immediate vicinity watching us and impatient for the ball to open, as
they intended it should at the proper time, which, with the Indian, is
about four o'clock in the morning.
After our supper on chicken stew, song-singing and story-telling, we
turned in, well tired out and in a condition to enjoy a good night's
sleep and dreams of home.
The night was warm, the sky clear, with the stars shining brightly, and
a full moon in all her glory. It was a beautiful night--too beautiful
to witness the scene that was so soon to follow. The guard had been
stationed and cautioned to be on the alert for strange sounds; "tattoo,"
"roll-call," "taps," sounded, and the little camp was silent. The low hum
of voices became less and less as slumber came to the weary soldiers, and
all that could be heard was the occasional challenge of the guard: "Halt!
who comes there!" as he was being approached by the officer of the guard.
Soon the soldiers slept, little dreaming that the lurking enemy and death
were so near. The awakening to some was in eternity.