Redwood County, Minnesota - Chapter 12: Redwood Ferry Ambuscade, 1916

The startling news of the tragic scenes at the Lower agency reached Fort Ridgely at about 10 o'clock on that day (August 18, 1862), but the extent and formidable character of the great Indian uprising were not understood until several hours later. The messenger who bore the shocking tidings was J. C. Dickinson, the proprietor of a boarding house at the agency, and who brought with him a wagon load of refugees, nearly all women and children. Captain Marsh was in command of the fort, with his company (B, Fifth Minnesota), as a garrison. Lieutenant T. J. Sheehan, with Company C of the same regiment, had been dispatched to Fort Ripley, on the Upper Mississippi, near St. Cloud.

Sending a messenger with orders to Lieutenant Sheehan recalling him to Fort Ridgely and informing him that the Indians were "raising Hell at the Lower agency," Captain Marsh at once prepared to go to the scene of what seemed to be the sole locality of the troubles. He was not informed and had no instinctive or derived idea of the magnitude of the outbreak. Leaving about twenty men, under Lieutenant T. P. Gere, to hold the fort until Lieutenant Sheehan 's return, Captain Marsh, with about fifty men of his company and the old Indian interpreter, Peter Quinn.

set out for the agency, distant about twelve or fourteen miles to the northwest. On leaving Fort Ridgely the captain and the interpreter were mounted on mules; the men were on foot, but the captain had directed that teams, with extra ammunition and empty wagons for their transportation, should follow, and General Hubbard's account, in Volume I of "Minnesota in the Civil and Indian Wars," says that these wagons overtook the command "about three miles out."

In due time the little command came to the Redwood Ferry, but there is confusion in the printed accounts as to the exact time. Sergeant Bishop says it was "about 12 o'clock noon." Heard says it was "at sundown," or about 6 o'clock. Some of the Indians remember the time as in the evening, while others say it was in the afternoon. As the men were in wagons the greater part of the way, the distance, allowing for sundry halts, ought to have been compassed in four hours at the farthest. Half way across the bottom the captain ordered the men from the wagons and marched them on foot perhaps a mile to the ferry house and landing.

The motives of the heroic and martyred Captain Marsh have often been discussed by historians and others. He was an officer of sound sense and good judgment, and had already come in intimate contact with Indian life and action, and knew of their discontent and their desperate mood.

While he did not realize the general character of the massacre he must have understood that a considerable number of Indians were engaged in it. The language of his dispatch to Lieutenant Sheehan, however, would indicate that he at that time believed the trouble to be strictly local and confined to the Redwood agency.

Some historians have thought that he had confidence that his force was strong enough to punish the guilty Indians and to bring the others to a sense of law and order. Other historians believe that he realized something of the danger before he left the fort, and that his realization of his danger increased as he continued on the journey, but that as a soldier and an officer he could do nothing else than to keep on until he met the murderous Indians and the God of Battles had determined the issue between them. Possibly he believed that the Indians upon seeing the uniformed soldiers would realize the enormity of their offense and the swift punir.hment which they were likely to meet at the hands of the organized and equipped military forces. Possibly he believed that the powerful chiefs would come to their senses at the sight of the soldiers and confer with him with a view to co-operating with the government in punishing the guilty.

Peter Quinn, the old interpreter, with his forty years' experience among the Sioux in Minnesota, knew the danger to be serious. On leaving Ft. Ridgely with Captain Marsh and his men he said to Sutler B. H. Randall : "lam sure we are going into great danger; I do not expect to return alive." Then with tears in his eyes he continued: "Good-bye, give my love to all."

R. A. Randall, a son of B. H. Randall, declares that his father remonstrated with Captain Marsh, urging upon him the gravity of the situation and the necessity of staying at the fort to protect the refugees who might seek safety there. Captain Marsh at first listened to the remonstrance and determined to stay at the fort. But later he changed his mind. He was a soldier, his duty was to punish the murderous assassins, and he could not sit idly in the fort while the guilty were allowed to go on their way to further crimes. "It is my duty," he said to Sutler Randall as he started.

There is some evidence that as the ferry was reached the captain realized the peril of the situation and the hopelessness of his task with so inadequate a force, and had given, or was about to give, his men order to retire just as they were fired upon.

Return I. Holcombe, the author of nearly all of this chapter, says : ' ' The weight of evidence tends to prove either that Marsh did not realize the extent of the outbreak and the grave peril of his position, or else he was nobly oblivious to his own welfare and determined to do his duty as he saw it."

When Captain Marsh and the men under him reached the crest of Faribault's Hill they saw to the southward, over two miles away, on the prairie about the agency, a number of mounted Indians ; of course, the Indians could and did see Marsh and his party. Knowledge of the coming of the soldiers had already reached the Indians from marauders who had been down the valley engaged in their dreadful work, and preparations were made to receive them. Scores of warriors, with bows and guns, repaired to the ferry landing, where it was known the party must come. Numbers crossed on the ferry boat to the north side of the river and concealed themselves in the willow thickets near by. The boat was finally moored to the bank on the east or north side, "in apparent readiness for the command to use for its crossing, though the dead body of the ferryman had been found on the road," says General Hubbard.

' ' The ferryman, Mayley, who resolutely ferried across the river at the agency all who desired to cross, was killed on the other side, just as he had passed the last man over. He was disemboweled; his head, hands and feet cut off and thrust into the

When the command reached the ferry landing only one Indian could be seen. This was Shonka-ska, or White Dog, who was standing on the west bank of the river, in plain view. For some time he had been "Indian farmer" at the Lower agency, engaged in teaching his red brethren how to plow and to cultivate the soil generally, receiving therefor a salary from the government. He had, however, been removed from his position, which had been given to Ta-o-pi (pronounced Tah-o-pee, and meaning wounded), another Christian Indian. White Dog bore a general good reputation in the country until the outbreak, and many yet assert that he has been misrepresented and unjustly accused.

A conversation in the Sioux language was held between White Dog and Interpreter Quinn, Captain Marsh suggesting most of the questions put to the Indian through the interpreter. There are two versions of this conversation. The surviving soldiers say that, as they understood it, and as it was interpreted by Mr. Quinn, White Dog assured Captain Marsh that there was no serious danger; that the Indians were willing, and were waiting, to hold a council at the agency to settle matters, and that the men could cross on the ferry boat in safety, etc. On the other hand certain Indian friends of White Dog, who were present, have always claimed that he did not use the treacherous language imputed to him, but plainly told the interpreter to say to the captain that he and his men must not attempt to cross, and that they should "go back quick." However, White Dog was subsequently tried by a military commission on a charge of disloyalty and treachery, found guilty, and hung at Mankato. He insisted on his innocence to the last.

While the conversation between White Dog and Interpreter Quinn was yet in progress the latter exclaimed, "Look out!" The next instant came a volley of bullets and some arrows from the concealed foe on the opposite bank of the river. This was accompanied and followed by yells and whoops and renewed firing, this time from the Indians on both sides of the river. They were armed chiefly with double-barreled shotguns, loaded with "traders' balls," and their firing at the short distance was very destructive. Pierced with a dozen bullets, Interpreter Quinn was shot dead from his saddle at the first fire, and his body was afterward well stuck with arrows. A dozen or more soldiers were killed outright, and many wounded by the first volley.

Although the sudden and fierce attack by overwhelming numbers was most demoralizing, Captain Marsh retained his presence of mind sufficiently to steady his men, to form them in line for defense, and to have them fire at least one volley. But now the Indians were in great numbers on the same side of the river, only a few yards away. They had secured possession of the log ferry house, from which they could fire as from a block house, and they were in the thickets all about. Many of them were naked, except as to breech clouts. Across the river near the bank were numbers behind the logs belonging to the agency steam saw mill, and a circle of enemies was rapidly being completed about the little band.

Below the ferry a few rods was a dense willow thicket, from two to ten rods in width and running down the north or east bank of the river for a mile or more. Virtually cutting or forceing their way through the Indians Captain Marsh and fourteen of his men succeeded in reaching this thicket, from which they kept up a fight for about two hours. The Indians poured volleys at random from all sides into the thick covert, but the soldiers lay close to the ground and but few of them were struck. Two men, named Sutherland and Blodgett, were shot through the body and remained where they fell until after dark, when they crawled out, and finding an old canoe, floated down the river and reached Fort Ridgely the next day. Of a party of five that had taken refuge in another thicket, three were killed before dark. One of the survivors, Thomas Parsley, remained in the thicket with his dead comrades until late at night, when he, too, escaped and made his way to the fort.

Gradually the imperiled soldiers worked their way through the thick grass and brush of the jungle in which they were concealed until they had gone some distance east of the ferry. Meantime they had kept up a fight, using their ammunition carefully, but under the circumstances almost ineffectually. The Indians did not attempt to charge them or "rush" their position, for this was not the Indian style of warfare. Of the second great casualty of the day Sergeant John F. Bishop says :

"About 4 o'clock p. m., when our ammunition was reduced to not more than four rounds to a man, Captain Marsh ordered his men to swim the river and try and work our way down on the west side. He entered the river first and swam to about the center and there went down with a cramp."

Some of the men went to the captain's assistance, but were unable to save him. He was imwounded and died from the effects of the paralyzing cramps which seized him. Some days afterwards his body was found in a drift, miles below where it sank.

The ground where Captain Marsh and his company were ambuscaded was, as has been stated, at and about the ferry landing on the north side of the Minnesota river, opposite the Lower agency. From the landing on the south side two roads had been graded up the steep high bluff to the agency buildings, and from the north landing the road stretched diagonally across the wide river bottom to the huge corrugated bluffs, two miles or more away, at Faribault's Hill. The hill was so named for David Faribault, a mixed blood Sioux, and a son of old John Baptiste Faribault, and who lived at the base of the hill. He and his family were made prisoners by the Indians and held during the outbreak. At Faribault's Hill the road divided, one fork leading up the hill and over the prairie to the eastward and northwest, running along the crest of the bluff to Fort Ridgely. The other followed the base of the bluff down the river. There were two or three houses between the ferry landing and the bluff, and at the landing itself was a house. All about the landing on the north side the ground of the main ambush was open; it is now covered with willows and other small growths of the nature of underbrush.

After the drowning of Captain Marsh, the command, consisting of fifteen men, devolved upon Sergeant John F. Bishop. The men then resumed their slow and toilsome progress toward the fort. Five of them, including the sergeant, were wounded, one of them, Private Ole Svendson, so badly that he had to be carried. The Indians, for some reason, did not press the attack further, after the drowning of Captain Marsh, and all of them, except Ezekiel Rose, who was wounded and lost his way, reached Fort Ridgely (Bishop says at 10 o'clock) that night: Rose wandered off into the country and was finally picked up near Henderson. Five miles from the fort Bishop sent forward Privates James Dunn and W. B. Hutchinson, with information of the disaster, to Lieiitenant Gere.

The loss of the whites was one officer (Captain Marsh) drowned; twenty -four men, including twenty-three soldiers, and Interpreter Quinn, killed, and five men wounded. The Indians had one man killed, a young warrior of the Wahpakoota band, named To-wa-to, or All Blue. When the band lived at or near Faribault this To-wa-to was known for his fondness for fine dress and for his gallantries. He was a dandy and a Lothario, but he was no coward.

The affair at Redwood Ferry was most influential upon the character of the Indian outbreak. It was a complete Indian victory. A ,majority of the soldiers had been killed; their guns, ammunition and equipments had fallen into the hands of the victors ; the first attempt to interfere with the savage programme had been signally repulsed, all with the loss of but one man. Those of the savages who had favored the war from the first were jubilant over what had been accomplished and confident of the final and general result. There had been but the feeblest resistance on the part of the settlers who had been murdered that day, and the defense made by the soldiers had amounted to nothing. There was the general remark in the Indian camps that the

Before the successful ambuscade there had been apprehension among many of the Indians that the outbreak would soon be suppressed, and they had hesitated about engaging in it. There were also those who at least were loyal and faithful to the whites and would take no part in the uprising. But after the destruction of Captain Marsh and his command all outward opposition to the war was swept away in the wild torrent of exultation and enthusiasm created by the victory. Heard says :

"The Indians were highly jubilant over this success. Whatever of doubt there was before among some of the propriety of embarking in the massacre disappeared, and the Lower Indians became a unit upon the question. Their dead enemies were lying all around them, and their camp was filled with captives. They had taken plenty of arms, powder, lead, provisions and clothing. The 'Farmer' Indians and members of the church, fearing, like all other renegades, that suspicion of want of zeal in the cause would rest upon them, to avoid this suspicion became more bloody and brutal in their language and conduct than the others."

If Captain Marsh had succeeded in fighting his way across the river and into the agency, thereby dispersing the savages, it is probable that the great red rebellion would have been suppressed in less than half the time which was actually required. The friendly Indians would doubtless have been encouraged and stimulated to open and even aggressive manifestations of loyalty ; the dubious and the timid would have been awed into inactivity and quiescence. As it was, the disaster to the little band of soldiers fanned the fires of the rebellion into a great conflagration of murder and rapine.

Immediately after the destruction of Captain Marsh's company at the ferry Little Crow dispatched about twenty-five young mounted warriors to watch Fort Ridgely and its approaches. About midnight these scouts reported that a company of some fifty men was coming toward the fort on the road from Hutchinson to Ridgely. Little Crow then believed that the garrison at Ridgely did not number more than seventy-five and that it would be a comparatively easy matter to capture the fort with its stores, its canon and its inmates. At the time he did not know that the Renville Rangers had returned from St. Peter and reinforced the garrison.

Tuesday morning, August 19, Little Crow with 320 warriors from all of the Lower bands except Shakopee's - only the best men being taken - set out from the agency village to capture Fort Ridgely. Half way down dissensions arose among the rank and file. A majority wanted to abandon the attack on the fort temporarily and to first ravage the country south of the Minne- sota, and if possible seize New Ulm. Little Crow urged that the fort be taken first, before it could be reinforced, but this prudent counsel did not avail with those who were fairly ravenous for murder and plunder, which might be accomplished without danger, and cared less about the risk of attacking the fort, which would be defended by men with muskets, even though its capture would be a great military exploit. About 200 of this faction left and repaired to the settlements in Brown county about New Ulm and on the Cottonwood, Little Crow, with about 120 men, remained in the vicinity of the fort watching and waiting.

Authority and References. The material for this chapter is based upon "Minnesota in Three Centuries," by Return I. Holcombe, and upon the "Recollections of the Sioux Massacre," by Oscar Garrett Wall. Many other works have also been consulted. Mr. Wall was a member of Captain Marsh's company stationed at Fort Ridgely, but was not with the detail which set with the disaster at the ferry. He, however, heard the story the next day from the survivors. Major Holcombe, in preparing his article, consulted all available printed records and manuscripts, personally interviewed some of the survivors, and also talked with Indians who were present at the ambuscade.