Redwood County, Minnesota - Chapter 11: The Massacre in Redwood County, 1916

The four trading houses at the Redwood Agency in 1862 were those of Captain Louis Robert, William H. Forbes, Nathan Myrick & Co., and Francis La Bathe, the latter a mixed blood Sioux, and a close relative of the great chief, Wabasha.

August 18, 1862, Captain Robert, Nathan Myrick, Major Forbes ; Stewart B. Carver, a member of the Myrick firm ; and Henry Belland, who was in partial charge of the Forbes store, were all absent. Andrew J. Myrick, a member of the Myrick firm, and Hon. James W. Lynd, a distinguished scholar, and a former member of the Minnesota senate, were in charge of the Myrick store.

The morning of Aug. 18 dawned bright and clear, and the people at the agency set about their usual duties. It was evident, however, that something was astir among the Indians. The road was filled with the stalwart braves, stark naked for the most part, painted in gaudy war colors, and fully armed.

Philander Prescott, the elderly friend of the Indians, and the government interpreter, inquired of Little Crow the meaning of such a display. He was told by the Indian chief to get in his house and stay there. To questions asked by the Rev. J. D. Hinman, the devoted Episcopal missionary, Little Crow made no reply. Alarmed at these manifestations of danger, the clergyman and the interpreter warned the other whites and prepared to flee.

Then the murderous storm broke loose, the first to be killed being James W. Lynd, the store clerk, and John Lamb, a teamster. Lynd was standing in the doorway of the Myrick store about 7 o'clock in the morning. Puzzled at the war-display of the Indians, he was watching a group of them approach the store, when one of them, Plenty of Hail, or Much Hail (Tan-waj-su- Ota) drew a gun, pointed it at Mr. Lynd, said: "Now I will kill the dog that would not give me credit," and shot him dead in his tracks. His body was not mutilated and was subsequently buried where it lay, by Nathan Myrick, of St. Paul. George W. Divoll and a cook named Fritz, were quickly killed, and a search made for Andrew J. Myrick. Myrick had hidden himself in the building, but frightened out when the Indians talked of burning the structure, he started to flee toward the Minnesota river. He was soon killed, his body riddled with arrows, and mutilated with a scythe which was later found transfixed in his heart. His head was cut off, and his mouth filled with grass by an Indian, to

In the meanwhile the Indians were trying to get the government horses from the stables. James Lamb, the hostler, remonstrated with them, and according to one authority, stabbed one of the Indians with a pitchfork. Lamb was killed on the spot, and others in the barn also slaughtered. A. H. Wagner, superintendent of farms at the agency, was also killed in endeavoring to prevent the theft of the horses.

While Wagner and Lamb were being killed at or near the barn, John Penske was pierced in the back by an arrow. Unable to run, he hid in a haydoft, and there extracted the arrow shaft, leaving the head buried some three inches. At 4 o'clock in the afternoon, driven out by the approaching flames, he wrapped himself in an Indian blanket, and thus disguised as a squaw, he made his way through the plundering Indians, arriving at Ft. Ridgely on the fourth day, after many thrilling adventures.

Francis La Bathe, commonly written La Batte, was killed in his store. Although a mixed blood and a blood relative of his murderers as well as closely allied with them through his Indian wife, his life was not spared. His kitchen or living room nearby was afterward used as a court room in which were tried many of the Indian prisoners by the military commission.

James Powell, a young man residing at St. Peter, was at the agency herding cattle. He had just turned the cattle out of the yard, saddled and mounted his mule, as the work of death commenced. Seeing Lamb and Wagner shot down and Fenske wounded near him he turned to flee, when Lamb called to him for help; but, at that moment two shots were fired at him, and, putting spurs to his mule he turned toward the ferry, passing close to an Indian who leveled his gun to fire at him ; but the caps exploded, when the savage, evidently surprised that he had failed to kill him, waved his hand toward the river, and exclaimed, "Puckachee! Puckachee!" Powell did not wait for a second warning, which might come in a more unwelcome form, but slipped at once from the back of his animal, dashed down the bluff through the brush, and reached the ferry just as the boat was leaving the shore. Looking over his shoulder as he ran, he saw an Indian in full pursuit on the very mule he had a moment before abandoned.

At about the same time Lathrop Dickinson was killed. J. C. Dickinson, who kept the Government boarding-house, with all his family, including several girls who were working for him, succeeded in crossing the river with a span of horses and a wagon ; these, with some others, mostly women and children, who had reached the ferry, escaped to the fort. J. C. Dickinson was after-

Very soon after, Dr. Philander P. Humphrey, physician to the Lower Sioux, with his sick wife, and three children, also succeeded in crossing the river, but never reached the fort. All but one, the eldest, a boy of about twelve years of age, were killed upon the road. They had gone about four miles, when Mrs. Humphrey became so much exhausted as to be unable to proceed further, and they went into the house of a Mr. Magner, deserted by its inmates. Mrs. Humphrey was placed on the bed ; the son was sent to the spring for water for his mother. * * * The boy heard the wild war-whoop of the savage break upon the stillness of the air, and, in the next moment, the ominous crack of their guns, which told the fate of his family, and left him its sole survivor. Fleeing hastily toward Fort Ridgely, about eight miles distant, he met the command of Captain Marsh on their way toward the agency. The young hero turned back with them to the ferry. As they passed Magner 's house, they saw the Doctor lying near the door, dead, but the house itself was a heap of smouldering ruins; and this brave boy was thus compelled to look upon the funeral pyre of his mother, and his little brother and sister. A burial party afterward found their charred remains amid the blackened ruins, and gave them Christian sepulture. In the charred hands of the little girl was found her china doll, with which she refused to part even in death. The boy went on to the ferry, and in that disastrous conflict escaped unharmed, and finally made his way into the fort.

In the meantime the work of death went on. The whites, taken by surprise, were utterly defenseless, and so great had been the feeling of security, that many of them were actually unarmed, although living in the very midst of the savages.

In the store of William H. Forbes were some five or six persons, among them George H. Spencer, Jr. Hearing the yelling of the savages outside, these men ran to the door to ascertain its cause, when they were instantly fired upon, killing four of their number, and severely wounding Mr. Spencer. Spencer and his uninjured companion hastily sought a temporary place of safety in the chamber of the building. One of the men killed was Joseph E. Belland, who was in charge of the store. Another was Antoine Young. Alexis Dubuque was killed either at the Forbes or the Myrick store.

The store of Louis Robert was savagely attacked. Patrick McClellan, one of the clerks in charge of the store, was killed. There were at the store several other persons; some of them were killed and some made their escape. Among those killed were the Frenchmen Brusson, Patnodc. Laundre and Peshette. John Nairn, the Government carpenter at the Lower Sioux agency, seeing the attack upon the stores and other places, seized his children, four in number, and, with his wife, started out on the prairie, making their way toward the fort. They were accompanied by Alexander Hunter, an attached personal friend, and his young wife. Mr. Nairn had been among them in the employ of the Government, some eight years, and had, by his urbane manners and strict attention to their interests, secured the personal friendship of many of the tribe. Mr. Nairn and his family, assisted by advice from friendly Indians, reached the fort in safety that afternoon, two of his children having previously reached the fort with J. B. Reynolds, who had overtaken them. Mr. Hunter had, some years before, frozen his feet so badly as to lose the toes, and, being lame, walked with great difficulty. When near an Indian village below the agency, they were met by an Indian, who urged Hunter to go to the village, promising to get them a horse and wagon with which to make their escape. Mr. Hunter and his wife went to the Indian village, believing their Indian friend would redeem his promises, but from inability, or some other reason, he did not do so. They went to the woods, where they remained all night, and in the morning started for Fort Ridgely on foot. They had gone but a short distance, however, when th?y met an Indian, who, without a word of warning, shot poor Hunter dead, and led his distracted young wife, a mixed blood Sioux and a bride of a month, away into captivity. Mrs. Hunter, whose maiden name was Marian Robertson, was afterward rescued at Camp Release.

The murders at the Lower Agency continued for hours. The white-haired interpreter, Philander Prescott (now verging upon seventy years of age), hastily left his house soon after his meeting with Little Crow, previously mentioned in this chapter, and fled toward Fort Ridgely. The other members of his family remained behind, knowing that their relation to the tribe would save them. Mr. Prescott had gone several miles, when he was overtaken. His murderers came and talked with him. He reasoned with them, saying: "I am an old man; I have lived with you now forty-five years, almost half a century. My wife and children are among you, of your own blood; I have never done you any harm, and have been your true friend in all your troubles; why should you wish to kill me?" Their only reply was: "We would save your life if we could, but the white man must die; we cannot spare your life; our orders are to kill all white men; we cannot spare you."

Seeing that all remonstrance was vain and hopeless, and that his time had come, the aged man with a firm step and noble bearing, sadly turned away from the deaf ear and iron heart of the savage, and with dignity and composure received the fatal messenger.

Thus perished Philander Prescott, the true, tried, and faithful friend of the Indian, by the hands of that perfidious race, whom he had so long and so faithfully labored to benefit to so little purpose. Shakopee (Little Six) and Medicine Bottle were captured on the Canadian border by John McKenzie and were tried and hanged for this murder at Ft. Snelling in 1865.

The number of persons who reached Fort Ridgely from the agency was forty-one. Some are known to have reached other places of safety. All suffered incredible hardships ; many hiding by day in the tall prairie grass, in bogs and sloughs, or under the trunks of prostrate trees, crawling stealthily by night to avoid the lurking and wily foe, who, with the keen scent of the bloodhound and ferocity of the tiger, followed on their trail, thirsting for blood.

Among those who escaped into the fort were J. C. Whipple, of Faribault, and Charles B. Hewitt, of New Jersey. The services of Mr. Whipple were recognized and rewarded by the Government with a first lieutenant's commission in the volunteer artillery service. The Rev. J. D. Hinman and his family were also among those who escaped.

The situation of the agency was somewhat favorable to the escape of those who were quick-witted, and who were not killed in the first terrible onslaught. The agency was situated on a high bank. North of the agency is a steep incline to the river bottom. This incline is traversed by ravines and was covered with trees and shrubbery. The refugees by hiding in this shelter could make their way, unobserved by the howling and plundering Indians, to the river, where the large ferry awaited. The ferryman, Hubert Miller, carried fugitives over until murdered by the savages, sturdily sticking to his post long after he could have found safety in flight. Even after the ferry stopped running, some of the fugitives crossed hand over hand on the ropes. Among these was Joseph Schneider. Others swam the river or waded it in shallow places.

All that day the work of sack and plunder went on ; and when the stores and dwellings and the warehouses of the Government had been emptied of their contents, the torch was applied to the various buildings, and the little village was soon a heap of smouldering ruins.

The bodies of their slain victims were left to fester in the sun where they fell, or were consumed in the buildings from which they had been unable to effect their escape.

So complete was the surprise, and so sudden and unexpected the terrible blow, that not a single one of all that host of naked savages was slain. In thirty minutes from the time the first gun was fired, not a white person was left alive. All were either

William Landmeier, the Reynolds hired man, did not join the Patoile family, and would not leave the Reynolds home until he had been twice warned by Moore that his life was in danger. He then went down to the river bottom, and following the Minnesota river, started for the fort. When some distance on his way he came upon some Indians who were gathering up cattle. They saw him and there was no way of escape. They came to him and told him that if he would assist them in driving the cattle they would not kill him. Making a merit of necessity he complied and went on with them till they were near the Lower agency, when the Indians, hearing the firing at the ferry, suddenly left him and hastened on to take part in the battle then progressing between Captain Marsh and their friends. William fled in an opposite direction, and that night entered Fort Ridgely.

The whites elsewhere were faring as badly as those at the Lower agency. At the Redwood river, ten miles above the agency, on the road to Yellow Medicine, resided Joseph B. Reynolds, in the employment of the Government as a teacher of farming to the Indians. His house was within one mile of Shakopee's village. His family consisted of his wife, a niece - Mattie Williams, of Painesville, Ohio - Mary Anderson and Mary Schwandt, hired girls. William Landmeier, a hired man, and Legrand Davis, a young man from Shakopee, was also stopping with them temporarily.

On the morning of August 18, at about 6 o'clock, John Moore, a half-breed trader, residing near them, came to the house and informed them that there was an outbreak among the Indians, and that they had better leave at once. Mr. Reynolds immediately got out his buggy, and, taking his wife, started off across the prairie in such a direction as to avoid the agency. At the same time Davis and the three girls got into the wagon of Francis Patoile, a trader at Yellow Medicine, who had just arrived there on his way to New Ulm, and they also started out on the prairie accompanied by Antoine Le Blaugh.

After crossing the Redwood river near its mouth, Patoile drove some distance up that stream, and, turning to the left, struck across the prairie toward New Ulm, keeping behind a swell in the prairie which ran parallel with the Minnesota, some three miles south of that stream.

They had, unpursued, and apparently unobserved, reached a point within about ten miles of New Ulm, and nearly opposite Fort Ridgely, when they were suddenly assailed by Indians, who killed Patoile, Davis and Le Blaugh, and severely wounded Mary

The poor, injured young woman survived her wounds and the brutal and fiendish violation of her person to which she was subjected by these devils incarnate, but a few days, when death, in mercy, came to her relief and ended her sufferings in the quiet of the grave !

Mattie Williams and Mary Schwandt were afterwards restored to their friends by General Sibley's expedition, at Camp Release. We say, restored to their friends; this was hardly true of Mary Schwandt, who, when release came, found alive, of all her father's family, only one, a little brother; and he had witnessed the fiendish slaughter of all the rest, accompanied by circumstances of infernal barbarity, without a parallel in the history of savage brutality.

On Sunday, Aug. 17, George H. Gleason, Government storekeeper at the Lower agency, accompanied by the family of Agent Galbraith, to Yellow Medicine, and on Monday afternoon, ignorant of the terrible tragedy enacted below, started to return. He had with him the wife and two children of Dr. J. S. Wakefield, physician to the Upper Sioux. When about two miles above the mouth of the Redwood, they met two armed Indians on the road. Gleason greeted them with the usual salutation of " Ho ! " accompanied with the inquiry, in Sioux, as he passed, "Where are you going?" They returned the salutation, but Gleason had gone but a very short distance, when the sharp crack of a gun behind him bore to his ear the first intimation of the death in store for him. The bullet passed through his body and he fell to the ground. At the same moment Chaska, the Indian who had not fired, sprang into the wagon, by the side of Mrs. Wakefield, and driving a short distance, returned. Poor Gleason was lying upon the ground, still alive, writhing in mortal agony, when the savage monster completed his hellish work, by placing his gun at his breast, and shooting him again. Such was the sad end of the life of George Gleason ; gay, jocund, genial and generous, he was the life of every circle. His pleasant face was seen, and his mellow voice was heard in song, at almost every social gathering on that rude frontier. He had a smile and pleasant word for all ; and yet he fell, in his manly strength, by the hands of these bloody monsters, whom he had never wronged in word or deed. Some weeks afterward, his mutilated remains were found by the troops under Colonel Sibley, and buried where he fell. They were subsequently removed by his friends to Shakopee, where they received the rites of Christian sepulture.

Charles Zierke, "Dutch Charlie," who lived in what is now Charlestown, heard the news of the uprising, and started for New Ulm. He was pursued and overtaken by the Indians while nearing that city. By sharp running he reached New Ulm, organized a rescue party, returned to the place of the encounter, and frightening away the Indians, rescued his wife and children, and recovered his team and goods.

It was through the southern part of Redwood county that Mrs. Lavina Eastlick and her two sons, Mrs. Alomina Hurd and her two children, Thomas Ireland, and other Lake Shetek refugees made their escape.

Authority and References. The material in this chapter is based largely on the ' ' History of the Sioux Masacre, ' ' by Charles S. Bryant. For references see preceding chapter. While the editor of this work has used Bryant as his authority, there are many other interesting works on the same subject, notably the famous work by Heard.