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Three Score Years
and Ten.
[Illustration]
"THREE SCORE YEARS AND TEN,"
LIFE-LONG MEMORIES
OF
_FORT SNELLING, MINNESOTA_,
AND
OTHER PARTS OF THE WEST,
BY
CHARLOTTE OUISCONSIN VAN CLEVE.
1888.
COPYRIGHTED 1888.
PRINTING HOUSE
HARRISON & SMITH,
257 AND 259 FIRST AVENUE SOUTH,
MINNEAPOLIS, MINN.
_DEDICATION._
"_To the husband of my youth, by whose side I have journeyed more than
half a century, and whose tender love has brightened my whole life,
this book is dedicated._"
ST. PAUL, MINNESOTA,
_515 Portland Avenue_.
March 14, 1888.
MY DEAR MRS. VAN CLEVE:
_Whenever there is growth in any community the desire arises to know
something of what was in the beginning. It was with no weariness I
read in manuscript the "Reminiscences" from your pen. Each chapter
contains something in connection with the dawn of civilization in the
west, which is worthy of being preserved. The incidents related are
stirring, and the style is graphic. When I finished the perusal I felt
the force of the adage, that "Truth is Stranger than Fiction." As the
diary of John Evelyn, throwing light upon the days of Charles the
Second, is still read, so I think, if printed, your unaffected
narrative will always find a place in the private and public libraries
of Minnesota and the Western States._
_Believe me_,
_Sincerely_,
EDWARD D. NEILL.
* * * * *
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. 7
II. 16
III. 24
IV. 32
V. 38
VI. A COINCIDENCE. 45
VII. ANDREW TULLY. 49
VIII. A WOLF STORY. 62
IX. RED RIVER OR SELKIRK SETTLEMENT. 68
X. RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 74
XI. 80
XII. CINCINNATI. 91
XIII. NEW HOME--SCHOOL DAYS. 99
XIV. FATHER'S DEATH, ETC. 105
XV. 110
XVI. 125
XVII. 131
XVIII. MALCOLM CLARK. 148
XIX. 157
XX. 161
XXI. 167
XXII. THE GOLDEN WEDDING. 173
* * * * *
"Three Score Years and Ten."
_CHAPTER I._
One evening long ago, when this wonderful century, now in a vigorous
old age, had just passed its nineteenth birthday, in a bright,
cheerful sitting-room in the good old city of Hartford, Conn., sat a
fair young matron beside a cradle in which lay sleeping a beautiful
boy a year and a half old. The gentle motion of her little slippered
foot on the rocker, keeping time with the soft humming of a cradle
hymn; the work-basket near by; and the dainty needle work in her hand;
the table tastefully spread for two, and the clear wood fire in the
old-fashioned fireplace, formed as restful a picture of domestic peace
and content as one could wish to see.
But the expectant look in the bright blue eyes, uplifted at each
sound, clearly indicated that some one was coming who should round out
this little circle and make it complete.
And now the familiar footstep draws near and the husband and father
enters; she rises joyfully to meet him, but seeing in his face a look
of grief or pain, exclaims, "What is it, dear husband?" He holds her
very close, but cannot find words to tell her that which will cross
all their cherished plans of a year's quiet resting in her native
city; and handing her an official document, with its ominous red seal
newly broken, he watches her anxiously as she reads:
_Lieutenant Nathan Clark, U. S. Fifth Infantry_: You are
hereby appointed Assistant Commissary of Subsistence, and
will forthwith join your regiment at Detroit, which is under
orders to move to the Mississippi river and establish a
military post at the mouth of the St. Peters river.
With respect and esteem,
GEORGE GIBSON,
Com. Gen. of Subsistence.
Twice she reads this order, and then, looking up with a smile, says,
with a slight tremor in her voice: "Is this all, beloved? Why should
it so distress you? You surely do not flinch from duty?" With a
perceptible start at such a suggestion, the gallant young soldier
replies: "No, no, my precious wife; but this means separation from you
and our boy, for you cannot venture on so long and perilous a journey
as that, and our separation is not for days and months, it may be for
years; how can I endure it? And we were so happy here in our snug
little cottage--you in the midst of early friends and beloved
relatives, your childhood companions and associations all about you;
and I with my duties as recruiting officer. We had reason to hope and
expect at least a year longer of this life, and this sudden blasting
of our hopes seems cruel. Oh, Charlotte! how can you bear the
thought?" As he thus poured out his heart, her eyes regarded him with
wonder, and when he ceased she drew him to his favorite chair, and,
seating herself on a low stool beside him, took his hand in hers, and,
looking up at him through her tears, said with ineffable tenderness:
"My own dear husband; how could you for a moment imagine that this
order means separation? Could you believe that I would remain here in
comfort, and suffer you to go alone to that far-off region where, if
ever, you will need me to cheer and aid you? If my marriage vows mean
anything, they mean that I am not to forsake you at such a time as
this. What would the comforts of this dear home, what the society of
relatives and friends be to me, with you in a wild country, in the
midst of a savage people, deprived of almost everything that makes
life dear? No, no, my beloved; where thou goest I will go; thy people
shall be my people; entreat me not to leave thee, or to refrain from
following after thee, for naught but death shall part thee and me."
The young soldier took his true, brave wife to his heart, and, holding
her close, exclaimed: "How deep and sacred is the love of woman! who
can comprehend its entire unselfishness?" and both found relief in
blessed tears of love and thankfulness which cleared away all doubts
and anxieties and filled them with hope and happiness. Over the
evening meal future plans were cheerfully discussed, dangers and
difficulties were looked bravely in the face, and feeling that, with
undying love for each other and entire trust in God, they could meet
and conquer whatever lay in their way, these young people rested
peacefully during that night, which had shown them how firm was the
bond which held them to each other, and were strengthened to meet the
storm of opposition that broke upon them in the morning from the
relatives and friends of the young wife and mother.
Preparations were rapidly made; household goods disposed of; all
things necessary for a long, toilsome journey packed; heart-breaking
"good-byes" were spoken, and the faces of the travelers were turned
westward.
A wearisome stage journey of many days brought them to Buffalo, where,
after resting a short time, they embarked in schooners for Detroit on
the 1st of May, which city they reached in time to move forward with
the regiment by water to Green Bay; thence in batteaux they ascended
the Fox river to Lake Winnebago. Col. Leavenworth, then in command of
the regiment, having received instructions to conciliate the Indians,
and avoid everything which might arouse the opposition of these owners
of the soil, determined to stop at this point to hold a council with
them, and crave permission to proceed on their journey. This being
announced to the chiefs of the tribe, they assembled to hear what the
"white brother" had to say. The day was beautiful; the troops, all in
full uniform, "with bayonets glancing in the sun," made an imposing
display, and everything was done to render it a memorable and
impressive occasion. The ladies of the party--Mrs. Leavenworth, Mrs.
Gooding, with their young daughters, and Mrs. Clark, with her baby boy
were seated on the turf enjoying the novelty and beauty of the scene,
when some Indian women, attracted by the unusual sight, drew timidly
near and gazed in wonder at what they saw. One of the officers, Major
Marston, the wag of the party, learning that one of them was the head
chief's wife, desired to show her some distinguishing mark of respect,
and, leading her into the group of ladies, said, with due ceremony,
"This is the Queen, ladies; make room for the Queen;" but as this
specimen of royalty was almost too highly perfumed with a mingled odor
of fish and musk-rat to suit the cultivated taste of her entertainers,
they did not hail her advent with any marked enthusiasm.
When all was in order, Colonel Leavenworth stepped forth, and, through
an interpreter, formally requested of the Chief permission to pass
peaceably through their country. The Chief, a very handsome young
brave, advanced, and, with his right arm uncovered, said, with most
expressive gestures: "My brother, do you see the calm, blue sky above
us? Do you see the lake that lies so peacefully at our feet? So calm,
so peaceful are our hearts towards you. Pass on!" With this full
permission so gracefully bestowed, after resting and refreshing
themselves among their newly-made friends, the troops left among them
a liberal supply of beads and trinkets and passed on to that point on
the river, least distant from the Ouisconsin, where they made a
portage, transporting their boats and supplies, by the aid of Indians
hired for the purpose, a distance of a mile and a half. This was a
tedious process, but was at last successfully accomplished, and the
boats were again afloat on the stream, called by the Indians the
"Nee-na-hoo-na-nink-a," (beautiful little river), and by the whites
"Ouisconsin," the French orthography for what we now write
"Wisconsin." The place of transit from one river to the other was
known for years as the Portage. At the point where the troops made
preparations for crossing it was afterwards built Fort Winnebago, and
directly opposite the fort, on a pretty knoll, stood for many years
the Indian agency occupied for a long time by John Kinzie, agent,
afterwards better known as one of the first owners of Chicago, and
Mrs. Kinzie's "Waubun," or early day, gives a very pleasant and
reliable account of that locality and the surrounding country. The
point on the Wisconsin where the re-embarkation of the troops took
place has grown into Portage City.
In spite of heavy rains and other discouraging circumstances, the
tedious descent of the Ouisconsin was at length successfully
accomplished, and at its mouth stood old Fort Crawford and a
settlement of French and half-breeds called "Prairie du Chien." This
fort was simply a rude barracks, and far from comfortable. The two
months' journey from Buffalo had been very trying, serious obstacles
and hindrances had been encountered and barely overcome, but instead
of reaching their final destination in June, as they confidently
expected to do, the troops arrived at Fort Crawford on the morning of
the first day of July, worn out and exhausted. It was therefore
determined to remain at this point some weeks for rest and renewal of
strength, before making the final plunge into the unknown wilderness,
into the very midst of savages, who might resist their progress and
cause them much trouble.
The transportation of their supplies had been attended with so much
difficulty that, notwithstanding all possible care, the pork barrels
leaked badly and the contents were rusty; the flour had been so
exposed to dampness that for the depth of three inches or more it was
solid blue mould, and there was no choice between this wretched fare
and starvation, for the miserable country about the fort afforded no
supplies.
Just at this juncture, scarcely an hour after her arrival, Mrs.
Clark's second child was born, and named Charlotte, for her mother, to
which was added by the officers "Ouisconsin." When one calls to mind
all the care and comforts and luxuries demanded at the present time on
such occasions, it is difficult to realize how my mother endured her
hardships, and when I add that almost immediately both she and my
brother were seized with fever and ague, which soon exhausted their
strength and made them very helpless, it would seem almost beyond
belief that she should survive.
The new-born infant was entirely deprived of the nourishment nature
kindly provides for incipient humanity, thus complicating to a great
degree the trials of that dreadful time. My dear father could never
speak of that experience without a shudder, and has told me, with much
emotion, how he scoured the whole country to find suitable nourishment
for mother and children, with wretched success; adding that, but for
the dear mother's unfailing courage, her wonderfully hopeful
disposition and her firm trust in God, he could hardly have endured
these heavy trials. The surgeon of the regiment at that time (I think
his name was Burns) was a man of science and great skill in his
profession, but an inveterate drunkard, and it was no uncommon
occurrence, when his services were needed, to find him so stupefied
with liquor that nothing but a liberal sousing in cold water would fit
him for duty, and I imagine that "_soaking the doctor_" became a
source of merriment which may have diverted their minds from heavier
trials.
So long a time must have elapsed before the provisions could have been
officially condemned and fresh supplies sent from St. Louis, the
nearest base of supplies, for red tape was more perplexing and
entangling then than now, when it is sent back and forth by lightning,
that it was concluded to continue the journey with what they had, and
so the troops moved on, and the feeble mother, the sick child and the
little "Daughter of the Regiment" went with them.
By reference to "Neill's History of Minnesota," I see mention made
there of the arrival of ordnance, provisions and recruits from St.
Louis before the departure from Prairie du Chien, but am inclined to
believe that the additions to the commissariat could not have been
adequate to the needs, as there was much suffering for want of proper
supplies.
When all was in readiness the expedition finally began the ascent of
the Mississippi. The flotilla was made up of batteaux and keel-boats,
the latter having been fitted up as comfortably as possible for the
women and children, and my father has told me that, notwithstanding
the inconveniences and annoyances of such a mode of traveling, the
hope that the change might benefit all, and the fact that they were
making the last stage of a very wearisome journey, inspired them with
fresh courage, and a general cheerfulness prevailed throughout the
command.
_CHAPTER II._
Of the difficulties and delays of that eventful journey up the
Mississippi, few at the present day can form a clear conception. The
keel-boats, similar in construction to a canal-boat, were propelled by
poles all that three hundred miles, in the following manner: Several
men stood on each side of the boat on what was called a running-board,
with their faces to the stern, and, placing their long poles on the
river bottom, braced them against their shoulders and pushed hard,
walking towards the stern. Then, detaching the poles, they walked back
to the bow, and repeated this operation hour after hour, being
relieved at intervals for rest.
The perfect safety of this mode of travel commends itself to those who
are in no hurry, and desire to learn all about the windings of the
river and the geological and floral attractions along its banks.
At night the boats were tied up, camp-fires were lighted, tents
pitched, sentinels posted and everything made ready, in case of an
irruption of Indians.
Arriving at Lake Pepin, a few days were spent on its beautiful shores,
resting, during which time the stores were overhauled and rearranged
and the boats regulated and put in perfect order. The sick were
growing stronger, and the little baby who was living on pap made of
musty flour and sweetened water, tied up in a rag, which did duty for
a patent nursing bottle, grew wonderfully, and bade fair to be a
marvel of size and strength.
Sometime in September the pioneer regiment arrived in pretty good
condition at--where? No fort, no settlement, no regular landing even;
simply at the mouth of the St. Peters river, where we had been ordered
to halt, and our long march was ended.
For many weeks the boats were our only shelter, and the sense of
entire isolation, the thought that the nearest white neighbors were
three hundred miles away, and that months must elapse before they
could hope to hear a syllable from _home_, proved, at times,
exceedingly depressing to these first settlers in Minnesota. I record,
with pleasure, what has been often told me, that in that trying time
the courage of the ladies of the party did not fail them, and that
their cheerful way of taking things as they came and making the best
of them, was a constant blessing and source of strength to that little
community.
Without loss of time a space was cleared very near the site of
Mendota, trees were cut down, a stockade built enclosing log houses
erected for the accommodation of the garrison; everything being made
as comfortable and secure as the facilities permitted. The Indians
proved friendly and peaceable, and the command entered upon their
life at "St. Peters," as it was first called, cheerfully and
hopefully. A few days after their arrival Colonel Leavenworth, Major
Vose, Surgeon Purcell, Mrs. Captain Gooding and my father made a
keel-boat trip to the "Falls of St. Anthony," and were amazed at the
beauty and grandeur of the scene.
A prediction at that time that some then living would see these mighty
falls turn the machinery of the greatest mills in the world, and a
great and beautiful city arise on the adjacent shores, would have been
called a visionary and impossible dream by those early visitors who
saw this amazing water power in its primeval glory.
That first winter of '19 and '20, like all winters in this latitude,
was very cold, with heavy snows and fierce winds, but there were many
sunshiny days, and there was little or no complaining.
The quarters, having been put up hastily, were not calculated to
resist the severe storms which at times raged with great violence.
Once during that memorable six months the roof of our cabin blew off,
and the walls seemed about to fall in. My father, sending my mother
and brother to a place of safety, held up the chimney to prevent a
total downfall; while the baby, who had been pushed under the bed in
her cradle, lay there, as "Sairey Gamp" would express it, "smiling
unbeknowns," until the wind subsided, when, upon being drawn out from
her hiding-place, she evinced great pleasure at the commotion, and
seemed to take it all as something designed especially for her
amusement.
By the prompt aid of a large number of soldiers the necessary repairs
were rapidly made, and soon all was comfortable as before. But late in
the winter, owing to the lack of proper food, scurvy broke out among
the soldiers, and forty of them died of this dreadful disease. Many
more were affected with it, and far removed as we were from all relief
in the way of change of diet or suitable remedies, it was a matter of
great uneasiness and alarm, as in the absence of necessary preventives
or restoratives medical skill availed nothing.
However, as soon as the frost was sufficiently out of the ground to
enable them to dig it, the Indians brought in quantities of the
spignot root, assuring the surgeon that would cure the sick. This
proved entirely efficacious. The scourge was removed, and after that
trial passed away the command was peculiarly exempt from sickness of
any kind.
As soon as possible gardens were made. Everything grew rapidly, and a
sufficient supply of vegetables was secured to prevent any recurrence
of the evil.
More permanent and comfortable quarters were built during the spring
at the beautiful spring on the fort side of the river, and named by
the officers "Camp Coldwater;" but before moving into the new camp
Colonel Leavenworth was relieved from the command by Colonel Josiah
Snelling, who, with his well-known energy and promptitude, immediately
began preparations for building the fort, the site of which had been
selected by Colonel Leavenworth. The saw-mill at "St. Anthony's
Falls," so long known and remembered as the "Old Government Mill," was
started as soon as practicable. Quarries were opened, and everything
was done to facilitate the work, Colonel Snelling proving himself well
fitted for the duty assigned him, and the spring of 1820 was a very
busy one for the old Fifth Regiment.
MRS. SNELLING'S LIFE.
Mrs. Abigal Hunt Snelling was born at Watertown, Mass., January 23d,
1797. Her father's name was Thomas Hunt, Colonel of the First Regiment
of Infantry, U. S. A., stationed then at Fort Wayne, Indiana, to which
place his little daughter was taken when only six weeks old. The
journey was performed on horseback, and the little baby was carried on
a pillow, a long, rough trip for so young a traveler, and clearly
indicative of her subsequent experience. She tells in her old age of a
coincidence in her life which impressed her forcibly. Her father died
and was buried at Bellefontaine, Ohio, and some years afterward
Colonel Snelling was at this place with his family waiting orders,
when their youngest child, an infant, named Thomas Hunt, sickened and
died, and was buried by the side of his grandfather. An incident in
her eventful life well worthy of mention in a record of the early
days of our State is that she gave birth to the first white child born
in Minnesota sixty-six years ago, and at the advanced age of ninety
years she is alive to tell of it. Her ninetieth birthday was
celebrated a few months ago in Newport, Kentucky, where, with the
husband and children of a beloved daughter, who died some years ago,
she is "only waiting till the shadows are a little longer grown."
She has been blind for many years, but otherwise her faculties are
unimpaired and her health is excellent. I should like to have seen my
old friend on that occasion, but could only send a congratulatory
letter, recalling the memories of old Fort Snelling, with which she
and I am so thoroughly identified. I am told she looked very lovely,
and was much gratified at the pleasant surprise her friends had
prepared for her, but was somewhat excited, and was carefully watched
by her granddaughter, Miss Abby Hazard, who takes the most tender care
of her precious grandmother.
It is somewhat remarkable that just about that time I learned through
Hon. Fletcher Williams, who has a special gift for finding
antiquities, that an old lady who had been a member of Mrs. Snelling's
family at the fort was visiting her grandchildren at West St. Paul. I
lost no time in calling on her, and found that she was one of the
Swiss refugees who came to Fort Snelling from the Red River country.
Her maiden name was Schadiker. She had married Sergeant Adams, of the
Ordnance Department, whom I remembered well as a most faithful and
highly respected man. After serving in the army many years at
different posts, he resigned and took up land not far from Chicago,
near which city he made a home and lived a long while very happily,
dying only a year or two ago at a very advanced age. Mrs. Adams and I
had a most enjoyable visit together. She is in very comfortable
circumstances, and bears her age so bravely that it is hard to realize
that she is seventy-seven years old. She told me, among other things,
of a voyage Colonel Snelling and family made up the Mississippi,
returning from a visit to the East. The weather was very rough, and at
Lake Pepin, their boat having been wrecked, of course their provisions
and many things were lost. With what was left of the craft they hugged
the shore, and the crew made every effort to go forward, but, in their
dismantled condition and with little or nothing to eat, it was very
discouraging work. She tells me that in this extremity the men caught
hold of the branches of trees which hung over the water and propelled
the boat forward by inches, and Mrs. Snelling said to her: "Hannah,
let us take hold of the willows, too, and pull. We may help, if it is
ever so little," and they did so, pulling with all their might. She
says she shall never forget their arrival at the fort at last. My
father was in temporary command, and, learning in some way of their
approach, sent help to them. He had had the fort illuminated and a
Colonel's salute fired in honor of the return, and finally the weary
ones reached the old headquarters, where my mother had provided for
them a bountiful repast, and where they received so hearty a welcome
that they soon forgot their weariness and the hardships and perils
through which they had passed.
NOTE.--Since this account was written, my dear old friend has
gone to her rest; she died at the home of her son-in-law, Mr.
Hazard, in Newport, Kentucky, September 6th, 1888, aged 91
years and seven months. She lived to hear the "Life-long
memories of Fort Snelling" read to her by her loving
relatives and enjoyed it exceedingly.
_CHAPTER III._
It seems proper to record here the names of the officers at the post
at this time. They are as follows:
Josiah Snelling, Colonel Fifth Infantry, commanding.
S. Burbank, Brevet Major.
David Perry, Captain.
D. Gooding, Brevet Captain.
R. A. McCabe, Lieutenant.
N. Clark, Lieutenant.
Joseph Hare, Lieutenant.
P. R. Green, Lieutenant Acting Adjutant.
W. G. Camp, Lieutenant Quartermaster.
H. Wilkins, Lieutenant.
Edward Purcell, Surgeon.
In addition to these I give the names of some who came afterward. All
of them are among my earliest recollections, and I can remember each
by some peculiarity of speech or characteristic anecdote. In my old
age I find myself dwelling upon these recollections of my early years
with pleasure, till the flight of time is forgotten, and in fancy I am
back again at the old fort, a happy, light-hearted, petted child:
Major Hamilton.
Captains Russell, Garland, Baxley and Martin Scott.
Lieutenants Alexander, Hunter, Harris, St. Clair Denny and
Johnston.
Major Laurence Taliaferro, Indian Agent.
Captain Leonard and Mr. Ortley, Sutlers.
Lieutenant Alexander was very popular, very kind-hearted and genial. A
reply of his, when cornered in a discussion at one time, caused much
merriment. The subject was bald-headed men. Some one remarked that
those who became gray were seldom bald. Alexander replied with
considerable warmth: "I know better than that, for my father is as
gray as a badger, and hasn't a hair on his head."
Lieutenant Hunter was a great favorite, and in his way a model man,
always courteous and attentive to ladies, and especially kind and
considerate to the little ones, but wonderfully firm and unyielding in
his views, which peculiarity on more than one occasion caused him
serious trouble. As an instance of his persistence: at one time he and
Captain Scott determined to find out by actual experiment which could
hold out the longest without eating anything whatever. As both were
very firm in their determinations, the affair was watched with great
interest. However, after two days Captain Scott surrendered
unconditionally, and it was generally admitted that Lieutenant Hunter
would have perished rather than yield.
Lieutenant St. Clair Denny was an exceedingly estimable young man, a
native of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, a Christian gentleman in the
highest sense of the term. My recollection of him is of one better
calculated to inspire awe and respect than confidence. A memorable
event in his life was his marriage with Miss Caroline Hamilton, a
beautiful girl of fifteen, as full of fun and lady-like mirth as he
was of dignity and reserve. I can barely recall their going in sleighs
on the ice to Prairie du Chien accompanied by Lieutenant Hunter and
one of the ladies, to be married, that being the nearest point where
the ceremony could be performed, for we had neither Chaplain nor
Justice of the Peace at the new fort. I have dim recollections of the
preparation of the trousseau by the nimble fingers of the officers'
wives, of the pleasureable excitement and merry chat over the unusual
event, and of the starting off of the excursion on that long, cold
ride, the "good-byes," the tears, the smiles and the blushes, and of
the hearty welcome home of the beautiful, happy bride, and the proud
but dignified bridegroom, and I there and then yielded my fealty to
the sweet child-wife, and always loved her as a dear relative. She was
a most loving wife and mother, and some who read these records will
call to mind her lovely, interesting daughter, the wife of Mr.
Corcoran, for some time Postmaster at St. Paul, and her son Brooke
Denny, whose home, when the dear mother passed away, was with his
sister in that city, and whose gentlemanly manners and kindness of
heart won for him the love and confidence of his associates. An
anecdote of Lieutenant Denny, characteristic of his precision of
speech, his perfect self-control under the most exciting
circumstances, and his strict regard to military etiquette, may be
related here:
At one of the frontier stations, where he was doing duty as
Quartermaster, he was in his office one day during a fearful thunder
storm, accompanied with high wind and pouring rain, which threatened
to demolish the building. Every one was alarmed for its safety, and
the whole garrison was in a high state of excitement. After the storm
had subsided, a group of officers were talking it over, and Lieutenant
Denny, speaking of it in his peculiarly measured tones, ended his
remarks with this climax: "I was standing in the door of my office
when the storm was at its height, and it was so terrible that I was
forced to turn and say, even in the presence of my clerk, 'Bless me!
how the wind blows!'"
Any member of the old Fifth Regiment can recall that remark, for it
became a household word; but alas! who are now living of that gallant
old regiment? Of all the names recorded in these annals, I know of not
one left to answer to roll-call, the last survivor, General David
Hunter, having passed away at an advanced age only a few months ago.
The old Mexican war decimated the regiment, which was always placed in
positions of danger, requiring brave, cool, determined men, and it
was then that Captain Martin Scott poured out his heart's blood in
defense of his country. Who has not heard of him and his indomitable
courage? Some of the most pleasant recollections of my childhood are
associated with that brave, true man, who was a member of our family
for many years, and was dearly beloved by us all. His eccentricities
were numerous, but did no one any harm, while his fondness for
hunting, his love for his dogs (of which I can clearly recall by name
eight or ten), his almost incredible skill as a marksman, and his
unvarying success as a hunter, made him the hero of our childish
admiration, and won for him the reputation of a veritable Nimrod. I
remember very clearly his habit of asking my mother what and how much
game she would like for the table, and invariably bringing her just
what she named. He was an admirable purveyor, and we lived on the fat
of the land, for there was no delicacy in the way of wild game which
he did not, in its proper season, bring from the forest and wild-wood
to make savory meat which, like old Isaac, we all loved. He had the
reputation at one time of being parsimonious, and some were inclined
to treat him coldly on that account; but in time it was found that out
of his small pay he maintained his widowed mother and a lame sister in
their New England home, and that while niggard in regard to his own
personal wants, the dear ones at the old home were generously provided
for. So, although at first the West Point graduates were disposed to
treat with contempt the Green Mountain boy who had entered the army as
a volunteer in the war of 1812, and had been retained in the service,
his sterling qualities and his dignified self-respect won for him
finally the regard of all who knew him. Indeed, it was found out very
soon that it would not do to slight or insult "Scott," and he gave
some practical lessons on that point that were never forgotten. He was
a thorough-going total abstinence man, a "rara avis" in those days. He
seldom drank even of "the cup that cheers and not inebriates," never
anything stronger; and my impression is that one great reason for his
extreme temperance was that his aim as a marksman might be perfect and
unerring. He did not marry till somewhat late in life, owing to his
inability to support a wife in addition to the care of his mother and
sister, although I have heard my father say to him, jokingly, "Scott,
it would not cost you so much to keep a wife as it does to keep all
these dogs; she'd save more than she'd cost. Try it now, and take the
word of one who knows." The lady whom he finally chose was a Miss
McCracken, of Rochester, New York, with whom he lived happily for some
years. At the battle of Cerro Gordo he was warned to be more careful
of the bullets, but he replied, "Never fear; the bullet is not run
that is to kill Martin Scott," and almost immediately fell from his
horse pierced to the heart by a Mexican bullet. Knowing that his wound
was mortal, he, with his usual presence of mind, took from his pocket
his purse, containing quite a large sum of money, and, handing it to a
soldier who stood near, said: "Give that to my wife." And the brave,
true heart was still forever.
Major Laurence Taliaferro was for many years a member of our
household, and we all loved and honored him. He was very entertaining
in conversation and full of anecdotes of Virginia, which was his
boyhood's home. His father owned many slaves, and when he, as a
student in an Eastern college, was home for vacation, he delighted to
amaze the negro boys with his knowledge and excite their admiration.
On one occasion he had been using some pretty big words in a speech
for their edification, branching out now and then into Greek and Latin
quotations, when one of them, overcome by his young master's
proficiency, exclaimed: "Oh, Massa Laurence; you larn so much since
you done been to college, you clar fool." He liked to tell this story
of himself, and admitted that the boy had good ground for his sweeping
conclusion. Dear Major Taliaferro, our happy-hearted, beloved and
trusted friend, the faithful servant of the government, and humble
follower of Christ. His picture and an accompanying letter, sent me
from his home in Bedford, Pennsylvania, when he was eighty-two years
old, are before me, and as I look on the well-known features, I repeat
from my heart the testimony of his biographer: "For more than twenty
years an Indian Agent, _and yet_ an honest man."
A few years ago, in an interview with Major Joseph Brown, so well
known to the early settlers of Minnesota, he reminded me of Colonel
McNeil's short stay at "Fort St. Anthony," as it was first called,
previous to the arrival of Colonel Snelling, and of Mrs. McNeil, a
sister of Franklin Pierce, a most estimable woman, of whom he spoke in
the most affectionate, grateful terms, saying that her kindness to
him, a mere boy, and her wise counsels had had a beneficial influence
on his whole life. He spoke most gratefully of all the ladies at the
post, and remembered our Sabbath school, established somewhat later,
with real pleasure. He went up the river with the regiment as
drummer-boy, and was always considered a faithful, well-behaved
soldier.
His whole life was passed in the Northwest. He was at one time
Representative in the Wisconsin Legislature, and was afterwards
appointed Secretary of the First Legislative Assembly of the Territory
of Minnesota. He died only a few years ago at an advanced age.
_CHAPTER IV._
In 1821 the regiment moved into the beautiful new fort, although it
was by no means completed. The outside wall was up on three sides
only, and a heavy guard was stationed on the fourth, not only to
prevent desertions, but to keep the Indians, our only neighbors, at a
respectful distance. The occupation of the new and comfortable
quarters was made an occasion of great rejoicing, an event never
forgotten by those who took part in it. Then began our regular fort
life, the flag-staff was raised in front of headquarters, the stars
and stripes were run up at the roll of the drum at "guard mounting"
and lowered with the same accompaniment at retreat day after day, and
we children learned to love its graceful folds as it floated on the
breeze and to feel no harm could come to us under the "Star Spangled
Banner."
The only white people within three hundred miles were shut within that
hollow square, a community, dependent largely on each other for all
the little every-day kindnesses and amenities which make life
enjoyable, having no regular intercourse with the civilized world,
except by mail, which at first was received semi-annually, after a
while quarterly, and for many years not more frequently than
bi-monthly. For a long while it was brought from Prairie du Chien by
an Indian on a pony, and there is no record of any unfaithfulness on
the part of our dusky carrier. But those who enjoy daily mails know
little of the excitement and tearful gratitude of those pioneers at
Fort Snelling when the announcement was made, "The mail has arrived."
Isolated as we were from the privileges and recreations and
distractions of town or city, we were drawn very closely together,
were, in fact, like one large family, and news for one was news for
all. We really "shared each other's pleasures and wept each other's
tears," and there was great rejoicing in the fort over news from
"home." I have in my possession a collection of letters from General
Gibson, Commissary General of Subsistence, received by my father,
which are interesting relics of those eventful years of privation and
hardship, of which the soldier of the present day can have but a faint
conception.
The first few letters are directed to St. Louis, to be forwarded to
the Fifth Regiment, wherever it might be; one or two are in regard to
furnishing rations to Indians who may visit the agencies of the United
States on business or otherwise, and authorizing the Commissary to
issue rations to them on the requisition of the Indian agents. I find
here a letter of instruction from the War Department to General
Gibson, and insert it, as indicating the policy of the Government in
regard to the Indians:
"_Sir:_ It is customary for the Government to furnish rations
to the Indians who may visit the agencies of the United
States upon business or otherwise, and I have to request that
you will direct the officers of your department, stationed at
posts in the vicinity of the agencies at Fort Wayne, Piqua,
Chicago, Green Bay and Mitch-ele-mack-i-nack[A] to issue
rations on the returns and requisitions of the Indian agents
at those places. The requisitions in every case must be
accompanied by a return of the number of Indians to be
furnished, and both must be filed with the account of the
officer making the issue to obtain a credit for the amount of
settlement.
I am, etc., J. C. CALHOUN.
_To Colonel George Gibson, Com. Gen. of Subsistence._"
This letter is dated August 30th, 1819, before the troops had reached
the mouth of the St. Peters, and was intended, no doubt, as a guide to
the officers in their dealing with the Indians.
In the list of rations to be issued to the command, I notice that
whisky has its place, and in turning over the leaves of this
manuscript book, I find a letter from an officer of the army, Captain
J. H. Hook, on duty at Washington, D. C., making various inquiries of
my father relative to the condition of the troops, the best way of
issuing rations, the best and most desirable articles as rations, the
wastage of each article, the precaution to guard against wastage, etc.
One inquiry will be interesting, in the light of the present feeling
on the temperance question: "_First_--Would not, in your opinion, the
service be benefitted by dispensing with the whisky ration?
_Second_--Could the soldier be brought to submit cheerfully to the
privation?"
This suggestion seems to have been acted upon, for I see a general
order dated May 11th, 1820, to the effect that "the President was
authorized to make such alterations in the component parts of the
rations as a due regard to health and comfort may require; and it is
hereby ordered that hereafter no issues of whisky will be made to boys
under eighteen or to women attached to the army." In the case of
soldiers on "extra duty," each was to receive one gill a day, and I
distinctly recall the demijohn with the gill cup hanging on its neck,
and the line of "extra duty men" who came up each morning for their
perquisite. In those days there seemed nothing wrong in this; but,
with the added light and wisdom of sixty years, all right-minded
people would now regard it as every way evil.
I find a letter concerning a contract with Joseph Rolette, of Prairie
du Chien, for furnishing the troops at Fort Snelling with fresh beef.
"The Commissary General directs that Mr. Rolette shall give a bond
duly signed by him, that Colonel Snelling may designate and transmit
it to this office, with the understanding that the Messrs. Astors, of
New York, will unite with him in the bond." In consequence of some
misunderstanding, owing to the extreme delay of communicating with
headquarters, the contract was cancelled, much to the disappointment
of Mr. Rolette. In examining these letters of directions with regard
to supplies and the time consumed in their transmission from the seat
of government, my wonder is, that the troops at this remote station
did not starve to death while waiting for authority to obtain
supplies. Pork, flour, whisky, beans, candles and salt were sent from
St. Louis, but, owing to the great difficulty of transportation, there
was much delay and frequent loss by depredations of the inhabitants of
the country through which the Government wagons passed. Beef was
supplied from Prairie du Chien, or some point nearer than St. Louis.
The following is a list of contract prices of articles purchased at
St. Louis:
$ Cts. Mills.
Pork, per pound, 7 1
Whisky, per gallon, 50
Soap, per pound, 10
Salt, per bushel, 2.00
Beans or peas, per bushel, 1.80
Vinegar, per gallon, 22
Corn meal, per pound, 2 2-1/2
Soon after the establishment of the fort, my father, as Commissary,
was requested by General Gibson to learn by experiment if wheat could
be raised in this part of the world, and the result proving that it
was a possibility, he was ordered to supply the garrison, at least in
part, with flour of their own raising. A letter bearing date August
5th, 1823, informs him that, "having learned by a letter from Colonel
Snelling to the Quartermaster General, dated April 2d, that a large
quantity of wheat may be raised this summer," the Assistant Commissary
of Subsistence at St. Louis had been directed to send to St. Peters
(as the fort was often called) such tools as should be necessary to
secure the grain and manufacture the flour, adding, "if any flour is
manufactured from the wheat raised, please let me know as early as
possible, that I may deduct the quantity manufactured at the post from
the quantity advertised to be contracted for," and here follows the
bill for the articles ordered for the purpose specified above:
One pair burr mill-stones, $250.11
337 pounds plaster of Paris, 20.22
Two dozen sickles, at $9, 18.00
-------
$288.33
This, then, was the outfit for the first flour mill in that part of
the great Northwest which was to be named "Minnesota" in later years,
and to become the greatest flour manufactory in the world. Remembering
clearly the great complaint of the destruction of grain by black
birds, I cannot think that the amount of wheat raised ever made the
command independent of outside supplies; but, having played around the
old mill many times, I know it was used for the purpose for which it
was fitted up.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote A: Mackinaw.]
_CHAPTER V._
Soon after we took possession of the fort, a post school was
established and some will remember the old school house just beyond
the main entrance, which has been used for various purposes, in later
years. It was there we children assembled day after day to learn to
spell in Webster's spelling book and to read in that time-honored
volume, of the "boy who stole the apples;" of the conceited "country
milk maid" who spilled her milk with a toss of her head; and of the
good "dog Tray," who fell into bad company and suffered the
consequences.
Our teacher was considered very competent for his work, but was a
violent tempered man and only maintained his position a few years, but
what we learned then, we know now, and the thorough drill we received
each day, turned out correct spellers, and good readers; with all the
improvements in the way of text books and methods, I do not think the
results, as far as fundamental education goes, are more satisfactory
now than then.
Another of my earliest recollections is the Sunday School, established
by Mrs. Colonel Snelling and my mother. There was no Chaplain allowed
us then no Sabbath service and these Christian women felt they could
not live or bring up their children in that way. They therefore
gathered the children together on Sabbath afternoons in the basement
room of the commanding officer's quarters, and held a service, with
the aid of the Episcopal prayer book, both of them being devout
members of that branch of the church, and taught the little ones from
the Bible. They had no lesson papers; no Sunday School library; no
Gospel songs; no musical instrument, but they had the Word of God in
their hands, and His love in their hearts, and were marvellously
helped in their work of love, which grew and broadened out, till it
took in the parents as well as the children, and a Bible class was
formed in which all felt a deep interest. Some who were not firm
believers in the truths contained in the Book of books, but who came
together just simply to pass away the time, were convinced of its
truth and found there the hope which is an "anchor to the soul both
sure and steadfast." I can remember the deep interest which all, even
the little ones evinced in the characters of whom we studied, how we
talked of them during the week, and chose our favorites, and how all
became deeply attached to Moses and dwelt upon his loveliness, his
unselfishness, his patience and his great love to the rebellious
people under his care. And we wept as for a dear friend when we read
that "he went up from the plains of Moab into the mountain of Nebo to
the top of Pisgah, that is over against Jericho" and viewed the land
which he might never enter, and died there and was buried by no human
hands; and "no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day." The day
following this sorrowful lesson, my mother in crossing the parade
ground, met Captain David Hunter who looked so sad and downcast that
she was distressed for him, and said: "What is the matter, Captain?
are you sick or have you had bad news?" He replied: "Oh, no! Mrs.
Clark, I am not sick or in personal trouble, but don't you feel sorry
that Moses is dead?" I have enlarged somewhat on this Sunday School
because it was somewhat peculiar, and because it was, as there are
good grounds for believing, the first Sunday School organized in this
Northwestern region, perhaps the first Northwest of Detroit.
The country around the fort was beautiful, the climate invigorating,
and in spite of the inconveniences and annoyances experienced by the
pioneer regiment they were not without their enjoyments and
recreations, and looking back through the years, recalling the social
gatherings at each others fireside in the winter, the various indoor
amusements, and the delightful rides and rambles in the summer, I feel
that ours was a happy life.