1866-1869.--Prisoners Meet their Families at the Niobrara.--Our
Summer's Visitation.--At the Scouts' Camp.--Crossing the
Prairie.--Killing Buffalo.--At Niobrara.--Religious
Meetings.--Licensing Natives.--Visiting the Omahas.--Scripture
Translating.--Sisseton Treaty at Washington.--Second Visit to
the Santees.--Artemas and Titus Ordained.--Crossing to the Head
of the Coteau.--Organizing Churches and Licensing
Dakotas.--Solomon, Robert, Louis, Daniel.--On Horseback in
1868.--Visit to the Santees, Yanktons, and Brules.--Gathering at
Dry Wood.--Solomon Ordained.--Writing "Takoo Wakan."--Mary's
Sickness.--Grand Hymns.--Going through the Valley of the
Shadow.--Death!
The spring of 1866 saw the prisoners at Davenport released by order of
the President; and their families, which had remained at Crow Creek
for three dry and parched years, were permitted to join their husbands
and brothers and fathers at Niobrara, in the north-east angle of
Nebraska. That was a glad and a sad meeting; but the gladness
prevailed over the sadness. And now all the Dakotas with whom we had
been laboring were again in a somewhat normal condition. All had
passed through strange trials and tribulations, and God had brought
them out into a large place. The prisoners had prayed that their
chains might be removed. God heard them, and the chains were now a
thing of the past. They had prayed that they might again have a
country, and now they were in the way of receiving that at the hand of
the Lord.
And so, as Rev. John P. Williamson was with the united church of camp
and prison on the Missouri, Dr. T. S. Williamson and I took with us
John B. Renville and started on a tour of summer visitation. After a
week's travel from St. Peter, in Minnesota, we reached the Scouts'
Camp, which, in the month of June, 1866, we found partly on the margin
of Lake Traverse, and partly at Buffalo Lake, in the country which was
afterward set apart for their especial use.
At both of these places we administered the Lord's Supper, ordained
Daniel Renville as a ruling elder, and licensed Peter Big-Fire and
Simon Anawangmane to preach the Gospel. Neither of these men developed
into preachers, but they have been useful as exhorters from that day
to this. On the Fourth of July, we added Peter to our little company,
and started across from Fort Wadsworth, which had only recently been
established, to Crow Creek on the Missouri. From that point we passed
down to the mouth of the Niobrara.
On this journey across the prairie we encountered many herds of
buffalo. Sometimes they were far to one side of us, and we could pass
by without molesting them. Once, on the first day from Wadsworth, we
came suddenly upon a herd of a hundred or more, lying down. When we
discovered them, they were only about half a mile in front of us.
Peter said it was too good a chance not to be improved; he must shoot
one. We gave him leave to try, and he crawled around over some low
ground and killed a very fine cow. We could only take a little of the
meat, leaving the rest to be devoured by prairie wolves. This episode
in the day's travel frightened our horses, delayed us somewhat, and
made us late getting into camp at the "Buzzard's Nest." The result was
that in the gloaming our horses all broke away, and gave us four
hours of hunting for them the next morning. Then we had a long, hot
ride, without water, over the burning prairie, to James River.
As I have said, the prisoners released from Davenport and their
families from Crow Creek had met at Niobrara. This point had been
selected for a town site, and a company had erected a large shell of a
frame house intended for a hotel. Their plans had failed, and now the
thought probably was to reimburse themselves out of the government.
We found the Indians living in tents, while the families of Mr.
Williamson and Mr. Pond and others were accommodated with shelter in
the big house. For their religious mass-meetings, they had erected a
large booth, which served well in the dry weather of summer. Every
day, morning and evening, they gathered there for prayer and praise,
reading the Bible and telling what God had done for them. They had
come too late to plant, and there was but little employment for them,
and so the weeks we spent there were weeks of worship, given to the
strengthening of the things that remain, and arranging for future
educational and Christian work. The churches of the prison and the
camp were consolidated, and we selected and licensed Artemas Ehnamane
and Titus Ichadooze as probationers for the Gospel ministry. When we
had remained as long as seemed desirable, Dr. Williamson and I left
them, and came down to the Omaha Reserve, where we visited the new
agency among the Winnebagoes and the Presbyterian Boarding-School
among the Omahas. The latter was flourishing, but, having been
conducted in English alone, its spiritual results were very
unsatisfactory.
The multiplication of Dakota readers during the past few years gave a
new impulse to our work of translating the Scriptures, and made larger
demands for other books. This furnished a great amount of winter work
for both Dr. Williamson and myself. In five years we added the Psalms,
Ecclesiastes, the Song, and Isaiah, together with the other four books
of Moses, to what he had printed in 1865.
The Wahpatons and Sissetons, who constituted the Scouts' Camp on the
western border of Minnesota, and who had done good service in
protecting the white settlements from the roving, horse-stealing Sioux
in the first months of 1867, sent a delegation to Washington to make a
treaty, and obtain the guarantee of a home and government help. While
that delegation was in Washington, I took occasion to spend a month or
more in lobbying in the interests of Indian civilization. To me this
kind of work was always distasteful and unsatisfactory, and this time
I came home to be taken down with inflammatory rheumatism. I had
planned for an early summer campaign in the Dakota country, but it was
July before I could get courage enough to start. And then it was with
a great deal of pain that I endured the stage ride between Omaha and
Sioux City. There I was met by Dr. Williamson, in his little wagon,
and together we proceeded up to the settlement in Nebraska.
Since we had been there in the previous summer, these people had
drifted down on to Bazille Creek, where Mr. Williamson and Mr. Pond
had erected _shacks_--that is, log houses with dirt roofs--and between
the two had made a room for assembly. The two men we had licensed the
summer previous were this season ordained and set over the native
church, Mr. Williamson still retaining the oversight. At each
visitation we endeavored to work the native church members up to a
feeling of responsibility in the work of contributing to the support
of their pastors, but it has been no easy undertaking.
This summer, with Robert Hopkins and Adam Paze for our companions in
travel, the doctor and I crossed over directly from Niobrara to the
head of the Coteau. Those Indians we now found considerably scattered
on their new reservation. Some general lines began to appear in the
settlement, and during this and our visit in the year following
several church organizations were effected; and Solomon
Toonkan-Shaecheya, Robert Hopkins, Louis Mazawakinyanna, and Daniel
Renville were licensed to preach.
Louis was an elder in the prison and on the Niobrara, and of his own
motion had gone over to Fort Wadsworth, and, finding a community of
Sioux scouts connected with the garrison, commenced religious work
among them. In this he was supported and encouraged by the chaplain,
Rev. G. D. Crocker. This year our camp-meeting was held on the border
of the Coteau as it looks down on Lake Traverse.
The opening of the season of 1868 found me starting from Sioux City on
a gray pony, which I rode across to Minnesota. But first I spent some
weeks with the Santees. They had partly removed from Bazille Creek
down to the bottom where the agency is now located. A long log house
had been prepared for a church and school-house. The Episcopalians
were building extensively and expensively, while our folks contented
themselves with very humble abodes. The work of education had
progressed very finely, Mr. Williamson and Mr. Pond giving much time
to it, while Mrs. Pond and Mrs. Williamson greatly helped the women in
their religious home-life.
This summer John P. Williamson and I took Artemas Ehnamane, the senior
native minister of the Pilgrim Church, and crossed over to Fort
Wadsworth, where Dr. Williamson and John B. Renville met us. On the
way, we made a short stop at the Yankton agency, which we had visited
two years before. Now it was opening up as a field of promise to Mr.
Williamson, and he proceeded to occupy it soon afterward. We made
another stop, for preaching purposes, at Brule and Crow Creek, where
the pastor of Santee showed himself able to gain the attention of the
wild Sioux. Our ride across the desert land was enlivened by
conversation on Dakota customs and Dakota songs. In both these
departments of literature, this former hunter and warrior from Red
Wing was an excellent teacher.
This annual gathering at the head of the Coteau was held at Dry Wood
Lake, where Peter Big-Fire had settled. It was the most remarkable of
all those yearly camp-meetings. On this occasion about sixty persons
were added to our church list. It was a sight to be remembered, when,
on the open prairie, they and their children stood up to be baptized.
At the close of this meeting we held another at Buffalo Lake, in one
of their summer houses, which was full of meaning. The recently
organized church of Long Hollow, which then extended to Buffalo Lake,
had selected Solomon to be their religious teacher. And this after
meeting was held to ordain and install him as pastor of that church.
He was a young man of Christian experience and blameless life, and
has since proved himself to be a very reliable and useful native
pastor.
Since the marvels of grace wrought among the Dakotas in the prison and
camp, we had received numerous invitations to prepare some account
thereof for the Christian public. Several of these requests came from
members of the Dakota Presbytery, which then covered the western part
of Minnesota. Accordingly, I had taken up the idea, and endeavored to
work it out. Some chapters had been submitted for examination to a
committee of the Presbytery, and commended by them for publication. In
the autumn and winter of 1868, the manuscript began to assume a
completed form. It was submitted to Secretary S. B. Treat for
examination, who made valuable suggestions, and agreed to write an
introduction to the book. This he did, in a manner highly
satisfactory.
The manuscript I first offered to the Presbyterian Board of
Publication. But the best that Dr. Dulles could do was to offer me a
hundred dollars for the copy-right. Friends in Boston thought I could
do better there. And so "Tahkoo Wakan," or "The Gospel Among the
Dakotas," was brought out by the Congregational Publishing Society, in
the summer of 1869. In the preparation of the book Mary had taken the
deepest interest, although not able to do much of the mental work. The
preface bears date less than three weeks before her death.
Authors whose books do not sell very well, I suppose, generally marvel
at the result. This little volume was, and is still, so intensely
interesting to me that I wonder why everybody does not buy and read
it. But over against this stands the fact that hitherto less than two
thousand copies have been disposed of. Pecuniarily, it has not been a
success. But neither has it been an entire failure. And perhaps it has
done some good in bringing a class of Christian workers into more
intelligent sympathy and co-operation in the work of Indian
evangelization; and so the labor is not lost.
* * * * *
Since we left Minnesota, Mary had apparently been slowly recovering
from the invalidism of the past. She enjoyed life. She could
occasionally attend religious meetings. The society of Beloit was very
congenial. Sometimes she was able to attend the ministers' meetings,
and enjoyed the literary and religious discussions and criticisms. The
last winter--that of 1868-69--she became exceedingly interested in a
book called "The Seven Great Hymns of the Mediæval Church." She read
and re-read the various translations of _Dies Iræ_. But she was
attracted most to the _Hora Novissima_ of Bernard of Cluni. Such a
stanza as the 26th:--
"Thou hast no shore, fair ocean!
Thou hast no time, bright day!
Dear fountain of refreshment
To pilgrims far away!
"Upon the Rock of Ages
They raise thy holy Tower;
Thine is the victor's laurel,
And thine the golden Dower."
And the 29th:--
"Jerusalem the golden,
With milk and honey blest,
Beneath thy contemplation,
Sink heart and voice oppressed.
"I know not, oh, I know not,
What social joys are there;
What radiancy of glory,
What light beyond compare!"
But these and others were all eclipsed by the last, which seemed
afterward to have been a prophecy of what was near at hand, and yet
neither she nor we anticipated it:--
"Exult, O dust and ashes!
The Lord shall be thy part;
His only, his forever,
Thou shalt be, and thou art!"
This was a fascination to her. We were blind at the time, and did not
see afar off. Now it is manifest that even then she was preparing to
go to "Jerusalem the only." _She was tenting in the Land of Beulah._
For years past Mary had almost ceased to write letters. Neither her
physical nor mental condition had permitted it. But a letter is found
written on the 2d of February, 1869, which must have been the very
last she ever wrote. Along with it she sent a copy of some of the
stanzas from _Hora Novissima_, which at this time were such an
enjoyment to her. The letter is addressed to Isabella, in China. She
writes: "Your last letter, written October 5, '68, was received
January 5, 1869. All your letters are very precious to us, but this is
peculiarly so. Perhaps I have written this before; but if I have, I am
glad again to acknowledge the joy it gives me that our Father gives
you faith to look gratefully beyond the passing shadows of this life
into the abiding light of the life to come.
"Was the 19th of First Chronicles the last chapter we read in family
worship before you left home? If so, the 13th verse must be the one
you read: 'Be of good courage, and let us behave ourselves valiantly
for our people, and for the cities of our God: and let the Lord do
that which is good in his sight.' Even so let it be. May you ever 'be
strong in the Lord.'"
We had passed the nones of March. It was on Tuesday, the 10th, as I
well remember, the day of the ministers' meeting, which was held at
the house of the Presbyterian minister Rev. Mr. Alexander. Mary had
been planning to attend in the evening. But the day was chill and
cold, as March days often are. She had been out in the yard seeing to
the washed clothes, and had taken cold. In the evening she was not
feeling so well, and decided to stay at home. For several days she
thought--and we thought--it was only an ordinary cold, that some
simple medicines and care in diet would remedy.
On Saturday, as she seemed to be growing no better, but rather worse,
I called in Dr. Taggart, who pronounced it a case of pneumonia. The
attack, he said, was a severe one, and her lungs were very seriously
affected. Her hold on life had been so feeble for several years that
we could not expect she would throw off disease as easily as a person
of more vigor. But at this time her own impression was that she would
recover. And the doctor said he saw nothing to make him think she
would not.
But soon after the physician's first visit, the record is, "She was
occasionally flighty and under strange hallucinations, caused either
by the disease or the medicines." On the following Thursday, she
evidently began to be impressed with the thought that she possibly
would not get well. She said she felt more _unconscious_ and _stupid_
than she had ever felt before in sickness. When, in answer to her
inquiry as to what the doctor said of her case, I told her he was very
hopeful, she said, "He does not know much more about it than we do."
At one time she remarked, "I feel very delicious, the taking down of
the tabernacle appears so beautiful"; and she desired me to get
Bernard's Hymn, and read such passages as "Jerusalem the Golden" and
"Exult, O dust and ashes."
"Friday, March 19, noon.
"I watched with your mother last night. Her strength seems to
keep up wonderfully well, but the disease has quite affected
her power of speech. When it came light, I perceived a livid
hue about her eyes, and became alarmed. We sent for Dr.
Taggart. The propriety of continuing the whiskey prescriptions
seemed quite doubtful, especially as the mother was taking them
under a conscientious protest. When the doctor came, he
appeared to be alarmed also, and changed his treatment from
Dover's powders to quinine, but wished the whiskey continued.
"During the morning she spoke several times about the
probabilities of life. 'God knows the best time,' she said;
'but, if I am to go now, I do not wish to linger long.' She had
been able, she said, to do but little for years, and there was
not much reason for her living--but she would be glad to stay
longer for the children's sake. At one time she remarked, in
substance: 'I have tried all along to do right; I don't know
that I should be able to do better if the life was to be lived
over again.'"
"Saturday noon, March 20.
"It is a privilege that I never knew before to watch and wait
in a sick chamber where one is in sympathy and contact with the
spirit that is mounting upward. It does seem as if the pins of
the tabernacle were indeed being taken out one by one, and the
taking of it down is beautiful--how much more beautiful will be
its rebuilding!
"Anna and I watched the first part of last night--or, rather,
she watched, and I lay on the lounge and got up to help her. In
the latter part, Alfred took Anna's place. So we watch and
wait. Her mind-wandering continues at intervals, and she
complains of her dulness--_so stupid_, she says. Christ, she
says, has been near to her all winter, and is now. A little
while ago, she remarked that she had been once, at St. Anthony,
as low as she is now, and God had restored her. So she wanted
us to pray that God would restore her yet again. This forenoon
she had a talk with Henry, Robbie, and Cornelia separately.
When Mr. Warner came in, she asked to see him, and said she
hoped to have seen him under different circumstances than the
present--and then commended Anna to his gentle care."
"Saturday evening.
"One feels so powerless by the side of a sick loved one! How we
would like to make well, if we could! But the fever continues
to burn, and we can only look on. Then the mind wanders and
fastens on all kinds of impossible and imaginary things. We
would set that right, but we can not. Dr. Taggart has just been
here, and speaks encouragingly of your mother. He thinks if we
can keep her along until the fever runs its course, then
careful nursing will bring her up again. The neighbors are very
kind in offering us help and sympathy."
"Sabbath morning.
"The mother is still here. But the hopes Dr. Taggart encouraged
are not likely to be realized. Alfred and I watched with her
until after midnight, and Mrs. Bushnell and Anna the rest of
the night. As the _bourbon_ continued to be so distasteful, the
doctor substituted _wine_; but that was no more desirable.
"When told it was the Sabbath morning, she looked up brightly
and said, 'I think He will come for me to-day.' Over and over
again, she said, 'He strengthens me.' Mrs. Carr and Mrs. Benson
came in this morning and were very helpful. The doctor has been
up again, and says he is _still_ hopeful. So _we_ hope and
watch."
"Sabbath evening.
"The sick one continues much the same as earlier in the day.
Mrs. Blaisdell and Mrs. Merrill came to offer their sympathy.
Dr. Taggart came again and desired that she might renew the
whiskey. This she promised to do. Mr. Bushnell has been in and
expressed his confidence in the _minne-wakan_ for those who are
ready to perish."
"Monday morn, 5:30 o'clock.
"The end seems to be coming on apace. Anna and Alfred watched
the first part of the night, and Mrs. Wheeler and I have been
watching since. The difficulty of breathing has increased
within the last few hours, and added to it is a rattling in the
throat. Your mother called my attention to it about three
o'clock. It seems now as if we can't do much but smooth the
way, which we do tenderly--lovingly."
"Seven o'clock, A. M.
"The battle is fought, the conflict is ended, the victory is
won, and that _sooner_ than we expected. Your mother's life's
drama is closed--the curtain is drawn.
"About one hour ago she called for some tea. Mrs. Wheeler
hasted and made some fresh. When she had taken that, we gave
her also the medicine for the hour. She then appeared to lie
easily. I sat down to write a note to Thomas, who was in the
Freedman's work in Mississippi. But I had written only a few
lines when Mrs. Wheeler called me. She had noticed a change
come on very suddenly. When I reached the bedside, your mother
could not speak, and did not recognize me by any sign. She was
passing through the deep waters, and had even then reached the
farther shore.
"Mrs. Wheeler called up the children, and sent Robbie for
Alfred. But, before he could come, the mother had breathed her
last breath. Quietly, peacefully, without a struggle, only the
gasping out of life, she passed beyond our reach of vision.
"Yesterday she had said to me, 'I have neglected the flowers.'
I asked, 'What flowers?' She replied, 'The immortelles.' _Dear,
good one, she has gone to the flower-garden of God._"