Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

To the Indians he was a real "Father". Americans, Scotch, Sioux, and French could all find within his breast, they said, a kindred spirit, and they bestowed upon him the name of "Four Hearts" because of the impartiality of his actions to all nationalities.[178] In June, 1858, a number of Sioux chiefs were in Washington and came to see him. "My old Father," said Little Crow, "we have called upon you; we love you; we respect you.... Since you left us a dark cloud has hung over our nation. We have lost confidence in the promises of our Great Father, and his people; bad men have nearly destroyed us.... We failed to get a friend in anyone like you; they all joined the traders. We know your heart, it feels for your old children."[179]

Those who were associated with him at the fort also had kind words for him. "He belonged to a class more common then than now", remarked the son of Colonel Bliss. "He imagined it to be his imperative duty to see that every Indian under his charge had the enjoyment of all his rights, and never seemed to realize his opportunities for arranging with contractors for the supply of inferior goods and for dividing the profits."[180] Of this honesty Taliaferro wrote: "I have the Sad Consolation of leaving after twenty Seven years--the public Service as poor as when first I entered--The only evidence of my integrity".[181]

No one can write of Fort Snelling without using the papers which Lawrence Taliaferro left. The diary kept by him during these twenty years shows the meager pleasures and grim duties of his task. Of this diary only a few fragmentary pages are extant--three roughly bound collections of sheets, many of them torn, many of them half-burned, and their writing faded. But from almost every page that is legible some information is gleaned, concerning the life of the soldiers, the visits of the Indians, the state of the weather, and reflections on Indian relations and the best time for planting potatoes.[182] His wide acquaintance and the great extent of territory which his agency covered led to correspondence with many men. These letters also passed through a fire, and those that were rescued are now bound in four volumes.[183]

His reports to General William Clark, Superintendent of Indian Affairs at St. Louis, were forwarded to Washington where they are now kept in the files of the Indian office.[184] With methodical care Governor Clark copied the letters which he received into letter books. The existence of these letter books was not known until a few years ago, when some of them were found in the hands of a junk dealer in Lawrence, Kansas, and were rescued--a great gain to the history of the West.[185]

Many years after he closed his connection with the agency Lawrence Taliaferro wrote an "Autobiography"--a narrative that shows all the quaintness and egotism of the man. "Not until after the year 1840", he wrote "did the government become unfortunate in the selection of their agents for Indian affairs."[186] From this account can be gleaned information to supplement the bare facts usually given about his life. His ancestors had come to England from Genoa, Italy, and later they emigrated to Virginia. Here Lawrence Taliaferro was born on February 28, 1794. At the age of eighteen he joined the army and served through the War of 1812, being a first lieutenant when it closed. Although he received no other promotion he was always known among his associates as "Major".[187]

He was appointed Indian agent for St. Peter's on March 27, 1819, and on April 1, 1819, he accepted--resigning the same day from the army.[188] He reached his new station probably in the summer of 1820, and was immediately engaged in the duties connected with Indian affairs.[189] During his term of office he was continually troubled by ill-health which resulted from his campaigns in the late war. In 1824 he resigned because of this ill-health, and although he continued in service, Governor Clark at one time wrote to the Secretary of War that "his fate is considered as very doubtful."[190]

As early as 1831 he confided to his diary that "there is something of a Combination of Persons at work day after day to pick at my Actions both public and private".[191] His resignation finally came in 1839, and he closed his connection with the Department on January 1, 1840, because he could no longer endure the machinations of the traders.[192] Thereafter he made his home at Bedford, Pennsylvania, serving as a military storekeeper from 1857 to 1863, when he was put on the retired list. Mr. Taliaferro visited his old home at Fort Snelling in 1856 and wrote characteristically: "We were in St. Paul on the twenty-fourth of June, the 'widow's son' was Irving's Rip Van Winkle; after a nap of fifteen years, we awoke in the midst of _fast_ times. We truly felt bewildered when we found all the haunts and resting-places of the once noble sons of the forest, covered by cities, towns, and hamlets. We asked but few questions, being to our mind received as a strange animal; if nothing worse."[193]

Among the others who served before 1858 as Indian agent were Amos J. Bruce, R. G. Murphy, and Nathaniel McLean. The influx of whites had greatly increased the difficulties of their position, and the memory of their former agent made the Indians suspicious of their new advisers. The Governor of the Territory became the Superintendent of Indian Affairs, and his presence so near the agency took from the agent much of his power.[194]

Scott Campbell, the interpreter at Fort Snelling, was the intermediary between the Indians and their lords. He was a half-breed whom Meriwether Lewis had met on his expedition up the Missouri River. He took the boy with him back to St. Louis; and when Lewis died, Campbell returned to his Sioux relatives and finally drifted to the agency at Fort Snelling.[195] Having a knowledge of four languages, and possessing the confidence of all the tribes within four hundred miles of the post, he was indispensable. From August, 1825, to April, 1826, he was engaged in the fur trade, but was lured back into service by a salary of thirty-four dollars per month and one ration per day. By 1843, however, he had become such a drunkard that he had to be dismissed.[196]

The veteran missionary, S. W. Pond, in recalling early days wrote that "Scott Campbell no longer sits smoking his long pipe, and conversing in low tones with the listless loungers around the old Agency House; but who that resided in this country thirty or forty years ago can pass by the old stone houses near Fort Snelling and not think of Major Taliaferro and of his interpreter?"[197]

And who can pass the Old Round Tower without thinking of those men who as officers at Fort Snelling ruled supreme over a vast region, and who left the fort for places of greater trust and greater influence?

V

A SOLDIER'S WORLD

Instead of a world of city streets and country towns, of tilled fields and rivers busy with commerce, the raw recruit at Old Fort Snelling entered upon a world of stone barracks and Indian tepees, of tangled prairies and rushing rivers.[198] The landing was directly under the cliff which towered above to a height which to many a wanderer in a frail canoe seemed twice the one hundred and six feet which the scientist's instruments ascribed to it.[199] In later years a stairway led to the quarters of the commanding officer, but the wagon road which crept upwards along the sandstone wall--"nearly as white as loaf-sugar"[200]--where the swallows flew in and out from their holes, gained the summit at the rear of the fort.

Following the road through the gate, and passing between the buildings to the center of the parade ground, the recruit probably paused to look about him.[201] Visible in the openings between the buildings was the stone wall about ten feet high which surrounded the barracks, quarters, and storehouses. This wall took the place of the picket-stockade which was so prominent a feature in earlier and ruder fortifications. Conforming to the arrangement of the buildings which it enclosed, the wall was diamond-shaped, one point being at the edge of the promontory where the valley of the Minnesota River met that of the Mississippi River. A second point was on the edge of the steep bluff which rose from the Mississippi. A third point, at a distance of about four hundred and fifty feet directly opposite the second, was on the summit of the Minnesota bluff. The fourth point was situated on the level ground of the plateau, at a distance of about seven hundred feet from the first point.

As he stood in the middle of the parade ground and gazed beyond the pump and the magazine at the western or fourth point, the recruit saw rising to a height twice that of the wall, the Old Round Tower. To-day this tower is a vine-clad relic--a vestige remaining from the days of the past. But to the soldier of Old Fort Snelling it was a more practical structure--a place of lookout from which he was often to scan the swells of the prairie for approaching Indians or returning comrades. At the second and third points were blockhouses--buildings of stone, each giving a view of the river below it. At the first point there was also a tower--a wooden lookout platform at the very edge of the precipice from which was visible the landscape surrounding the fort.

But the soldier was doubtless more interested in the buildings in which he was to live. The barracks for the men were under the north wall and consisted of two buildings one story in height. The larger of these, which was intended to accommodate two companies was divided into sets, each set having on the main floor an orderly-room and three squad-rooms, while below in the basement were a mess-room and a kitchen. The other barrack was intended to be occupied by one company only; and the orderly-room, squad-rooms, mess-rooms, and a kitchen were on the same floor. The cellars below were damp and were used only for storage purposes.

From a survey by Captain Arthur Williams, reproduced in the _Collections of the Minnesota Historical Society_, Vol. VIII, opposite p. 430]

Occupying the same position under the south wall, and facing the barracks, were two other buildings, similar in appearance. In one of these the officers' quarters were located. It was divided into twelve sets, each consisting of two rooms, the front one sixteen by fourteen feet, and the back one, eight by fifteen and a half feet. In the basement were located kitchens for each set. The other building contained the offices of the commanding officer, the paymaster, the quartermaster, and the commissary. Here was a room used by the post school, and another filled with harness. An ordnance sergeant and five laundresses found quarters in the same structure.

The quarters of the commanding officer with the flag staff directly in front, faced the parade ground and the Old Round Tower. There were four rooms on the main floor and in the basement were kitchens and pantries. Other buildings were also included within the fort. The storehouse of the commissary department was located near the southern blockhouse; and on either side of the gate were two buildings, shunned by all--the guardhouse and the hospital.

Such was the plan of the fort, convenient in arrangement and beautiful in appearance; but the report of an official inspection in 1827 complained that "the main points of _defence against an enemy_ appear to have been in some respects sacrificed in the effort to secure the comfort and convenience of the troops in peace. These are important considerations; but at an exposed frontier post the primary object must be _security against the attack of an enemy_. Health and comfort come next. The buildings are too large, too numerous, and extending over a space entirely too great; enclosing a uselessly large parade, five times greater than is at all desirable in that climate."[202]

A traveller who at a later day was entertained within the fort wrote of it facetiously in these words: "The idea is further suggested, that the strong stone wall was rather erected to keep the garrison in, than the enemy out. Though adapted for mounting cannon if needful, the walls were unprovided with those weapons; and the only piece of ordnance that I detected out of the magazine, was an old churn thrust gallantly through one of the embrasures. We were however far from complaining of the extra expense and taste which the worthy officer whose name it bears had expended on the erection of Fort Snelling, as it is in every way an addition to the sublime landscape in which it is situated."[203]

But an examination of the contents of the magazine would have revealed weapons more formidable than churns. Among the equipment reported in 1834 one reads of two iron twelve-pounder cannon of the garrison type; three six-pounder iron cannon of the field type; and two five and eight-tenths inch iron howitzers. There was also equipment for these pieces of artillery--carriages, sponges and rammers, lead aprons, dark lanterns, gunners' belts, gunners' haversacks, and tarpaulins. There were stored ready for service, 440 balls for the twelve-pounders, 1255 balls for the six-pounders, 546 pounds of mixed loose grapeshot, and many other sizes of strapped and canister shot. For the use of the infantry there were 7749 musket flints, 1825 pounds of musket powder, 1513 pounds of rifle powder, 31,390 cartridges, and 2047 blank cartridges.[204]

Other structures closely connected with the work of the fort were located outside the wall. The buildings of the Indian agency were situated a quarter of a mile west, on the prairie.[205] These consisted of a council house, the agent's house, and an armorer's shop. The original council house was built by the troops in 1823, but Agent Taliaferro claimed that most of the inside work was done at his own expense. The building was of logs and stone, eighty-two feet long, eighteen feet wide, and presenting in the front a piazza of seventy feet. Within, there were six rooms, lined with pine planking and separated from each other by panel doors.[206]

At one o'clock on the morning of August 14, 1830, the sentinels at the fort discovered that the council house was on fire. But the flames had gained so much headway that it was impossible to save any of the contents. The interpreter and his family who lived in this building barely escaped with their lives. In reporting the loss to the superintendent, Major Taliaferro wrote that "the general impression here is that fire was put to the house by Some drunken Indians & circumstances are strong in justifying such a conclusion."[207] This surmise was right, for on April 7, 1831, the Indians delivered at the fort one of their number who they claimed was guilty of the act.[208]

That steps were taken to build a new council house is evident from the record in Taliaferro's diary under date of March 8, 1831, that four men had been hired "at $12 per Month to cut & carry timber out of the pine Swamp for the Agency Council House."[209] But in 1839 Taliaferro recommended that the agency be moved to a point seven miles up the river; and in 1841 there was a movement on foot to buy Baker's stone trading house for the same purpose.[210]

Near the location of the old council house were two other buildings. One of these was the agent's house. This was made entirely of stone, and was one and a half stories high. It contained four rooms and a passage on the lower floor and two rooms above.[211] Hastily built by troops at an early day, its comforts were few. "Since the Rainy Season Set in", complained the agent in 1834, "both the hired Men and Myself have not had a Spot in our houses that Could be called dry, Not even our beds".[212] An armorer's shop, where blacksmith work was done for the Indians, was made of logs and measured sixteen by eighteen feet. Nearer the fort was the home of Franklin Steele, the sutler of the post.[213]

At Camp Cold Water, B. F. Baker had erected a large stone trading house, which in 1841 was valued at six thousand dollars. While he had no legal title to the land on which this house was built, the officers at the post allowed him to remain. Later it was sold to Kenneth McKenzie, who in 1853 built an addition, renovated the entire building, and used it as a hotel. In the vicinity of this structure were several small huts which had been the homes of some squatters on the reservation. But after their expulsion these huts rapidly fell into decay.[214]

In his duties and recreations the soldier was often brought into touch with other features of the world about him--the points of scenic interest and the Indian villages. From the wooden lookout tower near the commanding officer's quarters a glimpse of the surrounding land was revealed.

"The view from the angle of the wall at the extreme point, is highly romantic", wrote one who saw the wild scene before civilization had left its traces on the landscape. "To your left lies the broad deep valley of the Mississippi, with the opposite heights, descending precipitously to the water's edge; and to the right and in front, the St. Peter's, a broad stream, worthy from its size, length of course, and the number of tributaries which it receives, to be called the Western Fork of the Great River itself. It is seen flowing through a comparatively open vale, with swelling hills and intermingling forest and prairie, for many miles above the point of junction. As it approaches the Mississippi, the volume of water divides into two branches; that on the right pursues the general course of the river above, and enters the Mississippi, at an angle of perhaps fifty degrees, directly under the walls of the fort; while the other, keeping to the base of the high prairie lands which rise above it to a notable summit called the Pilot Knob, enters the Mississippi lower down. The triangular island thus formed between the rivers lies immediately under the fort. Its level surface is partially cultivated, but towards the lower extremity thickly covered with wood. Beyond their junction, the united streams are seen gliding at the base of high cliffs into the narrowing valley below. Forests, and those of the most picturesque character, interspersed with strips of prairie, clothe a great portion of the distant view.

"A little cluster of trading houses is situated on the right branch of the St. Peter's, and here and there on the shores, and on the island, you saw the dark conical tents of the wandering Sioux. A more striking scene we had not met with in the United States, and hardly any that could vie with it for picturesque beauty, even at this unfavourable season. What must it be in spring, when the forests put forth their young leaves, and the prairies are clothed in verdure!"[215]

This "little cluster of trading houses" was the town of Mendota. Here was the stone house of Henry H. Sibley, and that of J. B. Faribault. Near the river was the ferry house and the home of Mr. Finley the ferryman.[216] Upon the hillside lay the little Catholic chapel, surrounded by the graves in the cemetery. But the center of interest was in the warehouse and store of the American Fur Company, where the skins of buffalo, elk, deer, fox, beaver, otter, muskrat, mink, martin, raccoon, and other animals were sorted and divided into packs weighing about a hundred pounds. Indians, Frenchmen, half-breeds, and restless wanderers from the East were always loitering about the establishment.[217]

From the fort a road led along the Mississippi to the Falls of St. Anthony, on the way crossing Minnehaha Creek on the bridge built in early days by the soldiers. Here a stop was made to view the beauty of the cascade then known as Little Falls or Brown's Falls. It was the common practice for travellers to descend to the foot of the falls, clinging to the shrubs along the slippery pathway, and then go behind the sheet of falling water.[218] Continuing, at a distance of eight miles up the Mississippi from the fort, the Falls of St. Anthony was reached. Although only sixteen feet high, the breadth of almost six hundred yards, broken in the middle by a rocky island gave to it an impressive majesty, and the thick vegetation on the island and banks returned a gloomy reflection from the whirling waters.[219]

It is no wonder that in that wild and picturesque locality the Indians saw things ghostly and supernatural. "They tell you that here a young Dacota mother, goaded by jealousy,--the husband [sic] of her children having taken another wife,--unmoored her canoe above the Great Fall, and seating herself and her children in it,--sang her death song, and went over the foaming acclivity in the face and amid the shrieks of her tribe. And often, the Indian believes, when the nights are calm, and the sky serene,--and the dew-drops are hanging motionless on the sprays of the weeping birch on the island,--and the country far and wide is vibrating to the murmur of the cataract,--that then the misty form of the young mother may be seen moving down the deceitful current above, while her song is heard mingling its sad notes with the lulling sound of 'the Laughing Water!'"[220]

Here at the Falls, on the west bank of the river, were three buildings: a saw mill, a grist mill, and a one-story frame dwelling, where a detachment of soldiers always remained to guard the property. The saw mill had provided much of the lumber used in the construction of the fort, and in the grist mill the corn was cracked that was fed during the winter to the cattle--a drove being delivered every fall for the use of the garrison. These buildings were still standing in 1858, although they were then in a bad state of decay.[221]

Among the lakes on the prairie the most important were the Lake of the Isles, Lake Calhoun, and Lake Harriet. These were favorite picnic and hunting grounds for the men and women of the garrison. An old map made in 1823 shows "Green's Villa" on Lake Calhoun--probably a hunting lodge or shelter built by Lieutenant Platt Rogers Green.[222] Here on Lake Calhoun was located the missionary establishment which was so closely connected with the life of the fort.[223]

There were other Indian villages near the fort. Nine miles below, on the bank of the Mississippi was the Sioux village of Kaposia. Here Wakinyantanka, or Big Thunder, reigned over his band which numbered one hundred and eighty-three in 1834. Two or three miles upstream from its mouth on the banks of the Minnesota was the group of wigwams called Black Dog's village, although the chief was Wamditanka or Big Eagle. About nine miles from Fort Snelling was Pinisha, reported as having one hundred and forty-eight inhabitants ruled over by Good Road. The largest group, three hundred and sixty-eight souls, was that of the Tintatonwan band, located twenty-four miles from Fort Snelling and near the present town of Shakopee. Shapaydan or Shakpay was the chief, the father of the warrior of the same name who was executed at Fort Snelling for participating in the Sioux massacre of 1862.[224]

These villages were very much the same in appearance, large bark lodges being occupied by the Indians in the summer. The villages swarmed with children, squaws, painted warriors, and yelping dogs. About the lodges were the corn fields, the scaffolds where the corn was dried, and the more mournful scaffolds where, wrapped in buffalo skins, reposed the bones of the hunters who had followed the milky way to the "Land of the Ghosts".[225]

VI

GLIMPSES OF GARRISON LIFE

What sort of a life did the soldier live in the barracks and on the parade ground, and in the world of prairies, rivers, and woods that lay about him? No person who was ever quartered within the walls of Old Fort Snelling seems to have left an account of what was included in the tasks and recreations of a day. Doubtless the routine duties repeated day after day were thought too ordinary to be worth recording. The pleasures were so simple and came so much as a matter of course that they also receive scant mention in the annals of the fort. It is from the _General Regulations for the Army_ that one gets the daily program of a military post; and the few fragmentary pages of Taliaferro's diary and letters, together with the stray remarks of travellers and pioneers, indicate the joys and sorrows of a very human garrison.[226]

No sooner was dawn visible over the Mississippi bluffs than the musicians of the post were summoned to the parade ground and five minutes later the _reveille_ was sounded. At the signal both officers and men arose. Soon the rolls of the companies were called in front of the quarters; the quarters were put in order; the ground in front swept; and the horses fed and watered. At eight-thirty the sick in the barracks were taken to the hospital, and at nine o'clock breakfast was served, preceded by a second roll-call. Then the various tasks of the day were performed under the direction of a captain or subaltern daily detailed as the "officer of the day".

A party termed the "General Fatigue" swept the entire parade ground--unless there were enough prisoners in the guard house to perform this unpleasant duty. A police guard furnished sentinels to watch over the prisoners, the colors, the quarters of the commanding officer, and the arms of the regiment. Other soldiers were posted at the front and the rear of the fort. Certain detachments were formed for reconnoitering and foraging--the nature of the tasks depending on the season of the year and the needs of the garrison.

At three o'clock in the afternoon the third roll-call was followed by dinner; and thirty minutes before sunset the music called out the regiment for dress parade, where various maneuvers were gone through and orders were read. After the parade, when the regiment was again in its quarters, the arms were placed in the arm-racks, the horses attended to, a fifth roll-call endured, and tattoo sounded. Then the lights were extinguished and all were expected to be quiet for the night.

This monotony of the daily program was equalled only by the monotony of the meals. The regulation diet prescribed by Congress in 1802 consisted of a pound and a quarter of beef, or three-quarters of a pound of pork; eighteen ounces of bread or flour; one gill of rum, whiskey, or brandy; and for every hundred rations were supplied two quarts of salt, four quarts of vinegar, four pounds of soap, and one pound and a half of candles. In 1832 coffee and sugar were substituted for the liquor.[227]

During the early years of Fort Snelling these supplies were brought from St. Louis in flatboats. With the development of steamboat traffic, the steamboat was utilized, but it did not entirely displace the earlier method. Difficulties often hindered the transportation of supplies. The summer of 1829 was extremely dry. The average monthly rainfall was less than an inch, and steamboat navigation was impossible. Even keelboats found difficulty in ascending the river; sixty days were spent by Lieutenant Reynolds in bringing up a load of supplies. A sand bar at Pine Bend was impassable, so half of the load was taken off and the rest hurried up the river. When the crew arrived the garrison was upon its last barrel of flour.[228]

"Bread and soup", runs a clause in the _General Regulations for the Army_, "are the great items of a soldier's diet, in every situation".[229] The bread was made from the wheat grown by the soldiers, and was ground in the mill at the Falls of St. Anthony. For some reason the crop of 1823 had become mouldy and the bread was black and bitter. When forced to eat it, the troops almost mutinied, bringing it out upon the parade ground and throwing it down.[230] Nor does it seem likely that the soup was more appetizing when one reads the following recipe which guided the company cooks: "To make soup, put into the vessel at the rate of five pints of water to a pound of fresh meat; apply a quick heat to make it boil promptly; skim off the foam, and then moderate the fire; salt is then put in, according to the palate. Add the vegetables of the season one or two hours, and sliced bread some minutes, before the simmering is ended. When the broth is sensibly reduced in quantity, that is, after five or six hours cooking, the process will be complete."[231]

Fortunately the soldier did not have to depend entirely on these rations. Out of his modest cash income of six dollars per month he could buy at the sutler's store small necessities and some luxuries. The sutler was the authorized merchant of the post, and in order that his monopoly might not lead him to demand unreasonable sums for his wares, the prices were fixed by a "council of administration" composed of three officers. For every officer and enlisted soldier serving at the post the sutler paid into the "post fund", from ten to fifteen cents per month. This sum was to be used for the relief of the widows or orphans of soldiers, the maintenance of a post school and band, and the purchase of books for a library.[232]

The books of Franklin Steele, who was the sutler at Fort Snelling from 1838 to 1858, may still be examined; and from their dreary lists of accounts, the human wants of a soldier at Old Fort Snelling are clearly indicated.[233] On March 12, 1849, Private Brown bought a pound of currants and a pound of raisins for fifty cents. Shoes, soap, and currants totalled $1.50 on April 7th; and on March 20th, two pounds of butter sold for thirty cents and a pound of cheese for forty-two cents. Private Ryerson had more varied needs. On March 7th, 1849, he purchased indigo; on March 16th, paper; on April 9th, alcohol and suspenders; five days later, needles and sugar; and on April 23rd, apples, butter, and a tin cup. The quiet waters in the neighboring lakes tempted Eli Pettijohn on a spring day in 1855 to invest $2.50 in "Fishing Tackel".

That the officers did not live upon the same fare as the soldiers is indicated by the entries under the title "Officers Mess". On July 31, 1855, there was purchased ten cents worth of cloves, ten cents worth of pepper, and ninety-five cents worth of cheese. Under the date of August 8th "Bread tickets" were purchased to the amount of one dollar; and on August 30th, fifty cents worth of "Yeast Powd'r" was charged to their account.

Saint and sinner both patronized this store. The Reverend Ezekiel Gear, who was the chaplain at the fort, evidently believed that cleanliness was next to godliness, for on July 31, 1855, he paid thirty cents for a scrub brush; on August 4th, he bought a broom for fifty cents; on August 30th, he purchased twenty-five cents worth of starch, and on October 19th, a large broom. Indulging in some luxuries, on August 2nd, 1855, he bought five cents worth of candy. Probably this was a treat for those two boys, his son and his grandson, whom a visitor two years later found sleeping in the little cemetery at Morgan's Bluff near the fort, their resting place marked by a rude slab with a Latin inscription: "Lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in death not divided."[234]

None the less clearly is the character of Sergeant Mahoney portrayed in these accounts. On July 31, 1855, it is recorded under his name: "1 Flask $.75". On August 20th, the same officer paid seventy-five cents for a bottle of cider. And the chaplain would have had an excellent illustration for his next sermon on intemperance if he could have read, as we can to-day, this melancholy note made in the sutler's book on October 17th: "Sergeant Mahoney, Cash Loaned 20.00".

There was need for sermons on intemperance. During the early years whiskey was issued as a part of the soldier's ration, and this only served to stimulate the desire for more. The class of men in the army was not always of the highest, and there were enough civilians who were willing to pander to their appetites. The following extract from Taliaferro's diary for March 22, 1831, is undoubtedly characteristic of many a forgotten episode: "Nothing of importance transpired this day. Two drunken Soldiers in crossing the SPeters broke through the Ice & were near being drowned. They were exceeding alarmed & made a hedious Noise & yelling for Assistance--the men from the Fort relieved them although late at night." Not always was assistance on hand in such circumstances. A report was made in March, 1840, of a certain officer who "disappeared on the evening of the 5th of March, supposed to have been drowned by falling through the ice."[235]

Drunkenness and absence from roll-call were among the infractions of rules for which punishment was most often inflicted. The character and severity of the punishment depended upon the mood of the commanding officer. Colonel Snelling, who was usually a very gentle man, was particularly severe in his treatment of offenders. "He would take them to his room", wrote one who spent several years in the Snelling household, "and compel them to strip, when he would flog them unmercifully. I have heard them beg him to spare them, 'for God's sake.'"[236] This punishment by flogging was often performed with a "cat"--an instrument made of nine thongs about eighteen inches long, knotted in every inch, and attached to a small stick. When the culprit was stripped to the waist and tied to the flagstaff, the drummers took turns in applying the "cat" to the bare back.[237]

Other officers used less painful methods. Thus, Major Loomis was known as "Old Ring", since his favorite punishment was to place a log of wood upon the prisoner's shoulder and compel him to walk around and around in a circle under the vigilant eye of a sentinel. To Major John Bliss, who was in command at Fort Snelling from 1833 to 1836, the name "Black Starvation" might well have been applied. The negro servant, Hannibal, who clandestinely sold spruce beer to the soldiers was confined in the Black Hole for forty-eight hours; and Private Kelly, who refused to do his part in the fatigue party spent more than seventy-two hours in the Black Hole before the pangs of starvation persuaded him to promise Major Bliss to be good in the future.[238] On one occasion, which may be taken as typical of usual conditions, out of a total garrison of three hundred and twenty-nine, twenty-six were confined in prison. But at another time the commanding officer could report: "No Convicts at this Post".[239]

The severity of the military rules and the monotony of the life led to two undesirable consequences--mutinies and desertions. Of the former there is apparently no description, and the brief entry in Taliaferro's diary for February 3, 1831, leaves much to the imagination: "Mutiny of Most of the Troops of the 1st Infantry, Stationed at Fort Snelling this Morning".[240] What grievances led to the uprising on that wintry day, and by what diplomacy or by what punishments it was put down, are unrecorded.

Concerning the extent of desertions there is specific information regarding three years. Desertion was prevalent in the army at this time, and in order to provide methods of combating it the Secretary of War presented to Congress a great deal of information covering the years from 1823 to 1825.[241] During these three years there were stationed at Fort Snelling an aggregate of two hundred and fifty-one soldiers in 1823; three hundred and thirty-five in 1824; and two hundred and forty-six in 1825.[242] Of these, six deserted in 1823, eight in 1824, and twenty-nine in 1825. In this total of forty-three desertions, fifteen left in their first year of service, seventeen in the second, eighteen in the third, one in the fourth, and two in the fifth. Interesting facts regarding the kind of men who lived at the old frontier post can be gleaned from the data presented. Most of them were between the ages of twenty-one and thirty. In occupation there were laborers, farmers, painters, shoemakers, papermakers, wheelwrights, jewellers, and brewers. Among these forty-three, twenty-six were born in the United States, five in Ireland, two in Scotland, one in France, one in Holland, and one in Canada.

The soldier who sought freedom by stealthily climbing over the stone wall of Fort Snelling and appropriating some canoe drawn up on the river bank, left monotony and discipline behind him; but in doing so he faced many dangers. There was no settlement nearer than Prairie du Chien--a military establishment. Indians were not afraid to injure those whom they knew to be deserters. A certain man by the name of Dixon who deserted was captured by Indians who brought him back to Fort Snelling and received a reward of twenty dollars. Dixon was court-martialed and sentenced to receive fifty lashes from the "cat" and then to be drummed out of the Fort.[243] Four soldiers who escaped were killed by the Indians of Red Wing's band, and their bodies were left on the shores of Lake Pepin, where they were later found half-eaten by the birds.[244]

Sickness and death reduced the number on duty at the post. From the doctor the sick received professional aid. In 1826 when the force at Fort Snelling amounted to three hundred and twenty-nine men there were in the hospital one subaltern, one non-commissioned officer, one musician, and fifteen privates. That Fort Snelling was at a healthful location is indicated by the fact that during the same period at Fort Atkinson, with a force of only one hundred more, there was a total of one hundred and twenty-five sick persons.[245]

The number of deaths was proportionately small. In the year ending on September 30, 1823, there was only one death; the next year the toll was the same; and in 1825 it amounted to five.[246] On the occasion of a funeral six men, detailed from those of the same rank as the deceased, carried the coffin to the little cemetery outside the fort. A salute was fired over the grave and the band played solemn music, the drums being covered with black crepe. The mounds in the cemetery, unmarked by any stones, were soon obliterated; but if the departed soldier had been a cheerful companion his barrack-songs were missed by his comrades, and many friends, half-way across a continent, would mourn for one who was lying in an unknown grave, "somewhere in the West".[247]

On account of monotonous drills and tedious routine, any pretext to go into the Indian country was hailed with delight. The bustle, excitement, and troubles connected with the departure of these expeditions are best described by Mrs. Seth Eastman, who as the wife of the commanding officer had often waved farewell to the departing company.[248]

"Now for excitement, the charm of garrison life. Officers are of course always ready to 'go where glory waits' them, but who ever heard of one being ready to go when the order came?

"Alas! for the young officer who has a wife to leave; it will be weeks before he meets again her gentle smile!

"Still more--alas for him who has no wife at all! for he has not a shirt with buttons on it, and most of what he has are in the wash. He will have to borrow of Selden; but here's the difficulty, Selden is going too, and is worse off than himself. But no matter! What with pins and twine and trusting to chance, they will get along.

"Then the married men are inquiring for tin reflectors, for hard bread, though healthy, is never tempting. India rubber cloaks are in requisition too.

"Those who are going, claim the doctor in case of accidents. Those who stay, their wives at least, want him for fear of measles; while the disciple of Esculapius, though he knows there will be better cooking if he remain at home, is certain there will be food for fun if he go. It is soon decided--the doctor goes.

"Then the privates share in the pleasure of the day. How should a soldier be employed but in active service? besides, what a capital chance to desert! One, who is tired of calling 'All's well' through the long night, with only the rocks and trees to hear him, hopes that it will be his happy fate to find out there is danger near, and to give the alarm. Another vows, that if trouble wont come, why he will bring it by quarrelling with the first rascally Indian he meets. All is ready. Rations are put up for the men;--hams, buffalo tongues, pies and cake for the officers. The batallion marches out to the sound of the drum and fife;--they are soon down the hill--they enter their boats; handkerchiefs are waved from the fort, caps are raised and flourished over the water--they are almost out of sight--they are gone."

Apart from these trips abroad and the stated drills and terms of guard duty the tasks which occupied the time of the soldiers depended upon the season of the year. A general order of September 11, 1818, had commanded the making of gardens at all the military posts.[249] In the fall of 1819 when the temporary cabins at New Hope Cantonment had been built, the soldiers began ploughing for the crop of the next summer.[250] Major Long, in 1823, found two hundred and ten acres under cultivation--one hundred of wheat, sixty of maize, fifteen of oats, fourteen of potatoes, and twenty acres in gardens.[251] All through the history of Old Fort Snelling the soldiers were employed as farmers. A visitor in 1852 observed that "its garrison is rather deficient in active employment, and we noticed a number of the rank and file taking exercise in a large corn and vegetable field attached to the Fort. It was certainly not exactly soldierly employment, but it was more manly, to our mind, than shooting and stabbing at $8 a month, and no question asked."[252]

For the horses and cattle kept at the fort a great deal of hay was necessary for the winter months. This was obtained from the broad prairies of the military reservation. A group of men called the "Hay Party" were employed during the summer in cutting and stacking the long grass. But one officer was of the opinion that this task caused discontent--the enlisted man was no more than a common laborer and hence he lost the pride of a soldier.

The diverse tasks at which a soldier might be called to labor are indicated by a summary of the employment of the troops in 1827. Seven soldiers were acting as teamsters, five were performing carpenters' duties, two were quarrying stone, two men and a sergeant composed the party guarding the mills at the Falls of St. Anthony, and eight others were "Procuring forage by order of Col. Snelling".[253]

Summer brought its own pleasures as well as duties. At Lake Calhoun, Lake Harriet, Lake of the Isles, and Minnehaha Falls, many were the picnics held when visitors came to the garrison.[254] Swan, geese, and ducks were numerous about the lakes and swamps, and with the famous hunter H. H. Sibley as a guide, the game bags were soon filled. During a period of three years, Mr. Sibley, alone, shot 1798 ducks--a fact which indicates what success a soldier-sportsman could have in his few hours of recreation.[255]

But it was when the prairies were impassable because of drifts of snow from six to fifteen feet high,[256] and when the course of the river could be traced only by a streak of white between the gray of its wooded banks that there appeared those features which are peculiar to the life of a remote garrison. The isolation was almost complete. There was no traffic upon the frozen river, and the traders were wintering in the Indian villages. Only through the mail was communication with the outside world possible. It was planned to have a monthly mail service, soldiers being sent to Prairie du Chien with the letters. Here they delivered about two-thirds of the mail to the persons to whom it was addressed and the rest was deposited in the post office.[257]

In summer the mail was carried by the soldiers in canoes, but in winter the journey had to be made on foot. In summer the labor was lightened when a passing steamer overtook the rowing soldiers and picked up the canoe with its crew. In winter no such aid was possible. A hard day's tramp was followed by a night among the drifts, unless the tepee of some friendly Indian gave a temporary respite for a few hours.[258]

Nor was this task free from perils. A system was arranged whereby a courier from Fort Snelling and one from Prairie du Chien set out at about the same time, meeting at Wabasha's village where the packs were exchanged and each returned to his own post. On one occasion a spring thaw overtook the carrier from Prairie du Chien, who had proceeded beyond the meeting place because the messenger from the north was late. Suddenly the ice groaned and cracked, and the postman with difficulty found safety on a small island where, to his great surprise, he found the postman from Fort Snelling who had been caught in the same manner. Their provisions soon gave out; for a while they had only rose-apples to eat. It was not until almost two weeks later that the two half-starved messengers were picked up by the canoes of some friendly Sioux.[259]

Such accidents rendered the mail service uncertain, and it was with impatience that the watchers at the fort looked down the river for the coming of the news-carriers. On April 2, 1831, Taliaferro wrote: "The Express departed--4 men in a Skiff--to convey the Mail to the Post Office at Prairie du Chiens--our return Express daily expected." But they hoped too early and on April 5th it was recorded that "Our Express--1st which left for Prairie du Chiens on the 2d of March--has now been Absent more than a Month & progressing in the Seccond. We have not had inteligence from Washington City--since the 6th of December last". Not until April 10th did the mail arrive. But even when the messengers were safe in the fort it was not certain that they brought what was so eagerly looked for, as the entry on February 27th clearly shows: "Lieut Williams & Mr Bailly returned this eveng from Prairie du Chiens but brought no Mail there having been no arrival since December."[260] It was during this winter that even Prairie du Chien was shut off from the outside, the amount of snow between Peoria and Prairie du Chien stopping the mail service for two months. Again and again during the winter months the commanding officer complained to headquarters that "no Orders have been received within the Month".[261]

The duties of the soldiers during the winter were few. From the time it was built up to 1833 the quarters at Fort Snelling were heated by fireplaces. At that time, however, stoves were substituted.[262] Wood was used for fuel--to obtain which was a never-ending task in winter. When Captain Seth Eastman was in command at various periods from 1844 to 1848 the garrison had to go from eight to ten miles for wood. The banks of the Minnesota River were bordered by a forest varying from one hundred to three hundred yards wide; but by 1858 all of this for a distance of twelve miles had been cleared off.[263]

Colonel John H. Bliss, who was a boy at Fort Snelling when his father was in command during the thirties, wrote that the winters "were undeniably tedious, but had their uses; we had a good library, and I read a great deal, which has stood by me well; then there was of course much sociability among the officers, and a great deal of playing of cards, dominoes, checkers, and chess. The soldiers, too, would get up theatrical performances every fortnight or so, those taking female parts borrowing dresses from the soldiers' wives, and making a generous sacrifice to art of their cherished whiskers and mustaches."[264]

During October, 1836, Inspector General George Croghan visited Fort Snelling, and on the evening of the seventh of the month the Thespian Players presented _Monsieur Tonson_ in his honor. And here, far from city streets and French barbers, on a rude stage, Jack Ardourly fell in love with the beautiful Adolphine de Courcy--who probably only a few hours before had been hurrying to finish a task of cleaning guns so that she could call on the generous women of the garrison and beg from them capes and bonnets and hoops skirts![265]

Many of the officers were graduates of West Point, and their wives were from the best families of the East and South. On January 20, 1831, the ladies and gentlemen of the garrison had a party at the fort. "The room was tastefully decorated--- and the evening passed pleasantly". On February 22nd of the same year the quarters of the commanding officer were the scene of another party in commemoration of Washington's birthday.[266]

Efforts were made to provide for the education of the children of the fort. Mrs. Snelling at first taught her own children; but it is evident that there was soon a tutor, as the correspondence of Colonel Snelling shows that John Marsh received his board and seventy-five dollars for acting as tutor during the winter of 1823-1824. This schoolmaster also carried the mail to Prairie du Chien in return for forty dollars.[267] Soon after the appointment of a regular chaplain in 1838 the post school was more thoroughly organized.[268]

Occasionally there was some excitement at the fort. During the month of February in 1831 there was an epidemic of fires. First, the officers row of buildings caught on fire in the room of Lieutenant Greenough on February 10th. On the next day a second fire broke out; and on February 24th the agency house took fire both from the inside and the outside in such a manner that it was evident that an incendiary had been at work.[269]

But such events were of unusual occurrence. A letter written at Fort Snelling on February 11, 1842, pictures the usual winter life. "We of the garrison are as usual at this season rather dull, stale & unprofitable--small parties for Tea are a good deal the fashion, & tattle is used as formerly. Indian Ball plays are coming in season. One comes off today in which stacks of property are to be invested. The Sioux have been hunting about Rum River this winter and have killed great numbers of Dear--Our winter has been mild, one day only 30 below zero, and the rest comfortable.... Tonight Mumford gives a Soiree to the good folks of the garrison and this is the most exciting event of the week. What is the use of writing to you as I cannot find enough wherewith to fill two pages."[270]

Such close confinement was tolerable when the garrison was composed of congenial spirits, but occasionally it brought about dissensions and quarrels. Taliaferro on one occasion wrote that the "Society here is not in the most pleasant State from a System of tatling which has been reduced to a Science--not to be envied."[271] Occasionally open encounters took place. One soldier stabbed another with a butcher's knife, and the victim died.[272] In February, 1826, two officers of the garrison engaged in a duel.[273] Even those in authority were not free from participation in these "affairs of honor". A certain young officer challenged Colonel Snelling, and upon his refusing, his son, William Joseph Snelling, accepted and was slightly wounded. When the officer was court-martialed he accused one of the witnesses of being an infidel. Whereupon the latter challenged the officer in his turn, and a second duel was fought--which was bloodless.[274]

With such conditions prevailing during the winter months it is no wonder that from day to day spring was eagerly looked for. Undoubtedly it was a happy occasion when the agent could record on the evening of Sunday, March 27, 1831, that the weather was "more pleasant--Wild geese seen this day--gentlemen generally [illegible] out and Walking--The Ladies also".[275] It meant a speedy return of summer pleasures and summer visitors. For when, even at a remote military post did these fail as three sure signs of spring--pleasant weather, flocks of geese, and ladies and gentlemen out walking together?

They were very human, those men and women of Old Fort Snelling.

VII

THE FORT AND INDIAN LIFE