Renville County, Minnesota - Chapter 37: Experiences During Outbreak, 1916

Chapter 37: Experiences During Outbreak

Stories Related by Eye- Witnesses - William Wichman's Narrative Mrs. Mary E. Schmidt's Story - Experiences of Charles Lammers - German Settlement Wiped Out - Escape of Mrs. Patrick Hayden - Tale of Kearn Horan - At Birch Cooley - On the Sacred Heart - Brown's Family Captured.

Stern historical facts are enlivened by the little personal touches of interest that can be given by people who have actually been witnesses of some of the stirring events that have gone to make up the si;m total of the story of human progress. In our own state there are many still living who have seen a wilderness inhabited by Indians and a few scattered settlers grow into one of the most prosperous portions of the Union. There are people living who went through the Indian Outbreak of 1862, who saw their relatives murdered, who took part in the heroic defense of the frontier, and who assisted in bringing the country once more under the sway of civilization after the deadly wave of fire, rapine and death had spent its force. In a previous chapter the story of the Outbreak has been told by historians. In this chapter we have gathered, for the purpose of perpetuating the names of some of Renville county's heroes, the stories told by the people of the county themselves who underwent some of the most thrilling experiences that can fall to the lot of humankind.

Wichman's Narrative. Doubtless there are among the younger generations of the present day many who have little realization fit' the trials, dangers and privations endured by the early pioneers who ln-wed their way through the primeval forests, tilled the soil with their etude home-made implements, organized townships and counties, and by their sacrifices and denial made possible the enjoyment of the many advantages to be found in these modern times. It is the old settlers who are still with us who can realize fully the great contrast between the early days when the people were jolted over scarcely defined trails seated on a plank placed across the sides of a rough cart drawn by oxen, and the present day when the people in palatial automobiles traverse smoothly kept roads, surrounded by the lavish beauties that Nature has spread in the Minnesota valley and the comforts and luxuries of one of the best agricultural counties in the whole state.

I was born in Brown county, this state, April 5, 1859. Looking back over the years since my father and brother Fred were hauling freight with ox teams in 1859 between Ft. Ridgely and Ft. Abererombie over a blazed trail, the changes which have taken place seem truly marvelous. In that year on one of their trips they came upon a party of government surveyors who had pitched their tents on the bank of Beaver creek on the site of what is now known as the John Storch farm, and learned they were making a survey of Beaver Falls township. In the fall of the year 1860 my parents moved to that township and settled in section 14, in the locality at that time known as Beaver Creek settlement. At this time our family consisted of my father and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Diedrich Wiehmann, and four sons, Cosmos Fred, Diedrich Henry J. and William, and two daughters, Dorothy and Fredericke. On arriving at the homestead a rude house was erected and a barn put up with poles and a thatched roof made of wild hay. These buildings came near being destroyed the following year by prairie fire, but an old Indian known as "Sehimmel Father" (from the fact of his old age and habit of riding a white horse) came along on horseback, and dipping his blanket in a tub of water mother had at the house, fought the fire, saved the house as well as a hay stack near by and the straw barn.

My brother, John ('. Wichman, born here August 14, 1861, was probably the first white child' born in the county. Little did the family think that day that soon we must fly to save our lives from massacre and pillage and from fires set to destroy settlers' homes. The Indians had, during the previous winter, camped in the woods back of our home, and during the periods when heavy snows covered the ground came to the house for such supplies as we could furnish them. That the snowfalls there were heavywas for years proven by a large oak stump, the dead trunk from which father had cut for wood. The stump was cut off even with the top of the snow and stood about five feet above the ground.

In the summer of 1862, after the rye had been cut and shocked, father went to the agency and was employed by the government putting up hay. After having spent Sunday at home he was returning Monday, August 18, to work, and had reached the ferry and was waiting to be taken across the river when he heard shooting on the hills on the opposite bank of the river. Learning of the outbreak of the Indians he pulled off his boots on a pile of lumber nearby, and with his boots in his hand started back across the prairie to the bluffs, thence home to warn his family and the settlers. On the way home father met one of the Earle boys, who was riding a horse. Upon being informed of the outbreak the latter spurred his horse and at once notified several neighbors. A little farther on father met Mr. and Mrs. F. W. Schmidt, who were hauling hay, and they, too, prepared at once to get away. Arriving home father found mother and Diedrich hauling hay. They threw off the greater part of the load, leaving just enough for a cushion on the rack and hastily reached the house. Father tore down the hog pen and rounded up the cattle, while Henry notified the Judge Henry Ahrens' family (who then resided on the place still known as the Judge Ahrens homestead, occupied at present by the Frank Ahrens family), and Brother Diedrich notified the Shepherd family on the farm now occupied by Schafer brothers, and soon, the Ahrens and Schmidt families having arrived, all started for Ft. Ridgely, each driving an ox team and taking with them their stock. On the way to Ft. Ridgely the writer fell through the bottom of the hay rack and, not being missed by the other members of the party, would have been lost had the Ahrens family not discovered him when they came along and Judge Ahrens picked him up. Arriving at Ft. Ridgely we found my brother Fred, who had been employed there by a butcher named Nix, afterward Captain Nix, of New Ulm, and he joined us on our trip thereafter. The party drove on through Ft. Ridgely in order to save their cattle and camped that night at Cummins Grove, near the present town of Henderson. The Schmidt ami Ahrens family took another route from here, while we went on to Illinois. We drove as far as Harton with the ox team and there father traded for a team of horses, with which the trip was resumed. At McGregor we crossed the river on a ferry, and having no money father gave the ferryman a two-year-old heifer in payment. For about two years, or until after harvest in 1864, the family resided in Illinois. We then moved back as far as Redstone, this state, near New Ulm, and resided there until the spring of 1865. when we returned to the homestead at Beaver creek. Upon arriving there the house was found to have been burned, but the hay stable still standing. The family occupied that until a new house could be erected. (The cellar of the first limi.se has always been preserved and may still be seen at the old homestead.) Shortly after erecting our house my brothers, Fred and Diedrich, while on one of the trips to New Ulm for provisions, well' notified of another Indian uprising near Hutchinson, and hastened home, and we again started on a hasty trip for protection. One of our horses had a small colt and this was loaded into the wagon with us and a hasty trip started. Arriving at Foit Ridgely Colonel William Pfaender, then in command, offered to furnish father all needed arms and ammunition if we would return. Together with the three older boys and Judge Alliens' father returned, and for a long time our house was a signal tower beyond which settlers would not venture until receiving a safety signal shot therefrom. After being unmolested for several months the other members of our family and that of Judge Ahrens, accompanied by the Schafer family, who thereafter occupied the Shepherd homestead, returned to once more peacefully occupy liomes in beloved Beaver.

During those early years of residence at Beaver all mail and supplies must be transported from New Ulm over a mere blazed trail without bridges of any kind.

For a period of four years a plague of grasshoppers overtook the pioneers, they arriving first on July 4. Several methods were devised to destroy the pest, but the two most successful apparently were by the use of a clothes line rope tied to the collars of two horses and the rope dragging between the horses kept the hoppers on the jump and relieved growing crops. The other method was to suspend a tin pan filled with tar under a cart and as the cart was drawn through a field great masses of grasshoppers would be caught. So well did the tar preserve them that these piles of hoppers eould be seen for months. The only thing which seemed to thrive that year were the chickens and they were exceedingly fat.

The first school held at Beaver in which our young folks were educated was at Elmus Bush's claim shanty, taught by Mrs. Bush. It had a thatched hay roof with a dirt floor and the seats were made by placing blocks on the floor and on top of these laying planks. The shack was lighted by only one full and one half size window. The year's school in those days consisted of three months each spring.

The memory of the days of trial and pioneer adversity undoubtedly have added much to the enjoyment in later years of the many advantages in the way of excellent school and church facilities, county and state organizations, splendid railway accom-

Mrs. Schmidt's Story. Johann Schwandt and his wife Christina with their five children, their son-in-law John Walz, and a friend of the family, John Prass, started m May, 1862. from Fairwater, Fond du Lac county, Wisconsin, with their household goods, provisions, two yokes of oxen, a few cows and some calves. After an overland journey, which occupied more than a month, they settled mi .Middle creek in what is now Flora township.

I was then a girl of fourteen and my brother August was ten years of age. We walked the entire distance, driving the stock and picking flowers by the wayside, and when we were tired we would stop and rest and let the cattle eat. Our dear mother would cook the meal and spread the cloth on the grass, and we would all sit around and enjoy the meal more perhaps than the king in his palace eating from golden plates and drinking from crystal glasses. The land which my father settled on was in the wilderness of the Minnesota river bottomlands and the grass was tall and coarse, and the cattle did not like it, but there was no other. My father chose this place because there was timber there, and the first thing the men did was to hew down some trees and peel the bark off of them. They then built a log cabin of two rooms, and, as at first we had no doors, they put blankets at the openings, and covered the roof with grass and bark. After a few weeks, when father went to New Ulm to do some trading, he bought some doors and windows and also shingles. I accompanied him to do some shopping for my mother and sister. It took us four days to go and come back, it being about forty miles from where we lived and traveling with oxen was very slow. After we had some doors and windows in our cabin we lived quite comfortably. The men started to break up the land and cut some hay on father's place, and as both Mr. Walz and Mr. Frass had taken a claim up on the prairie they all went up there to break the land, anil all were happy and contented, but it was not to be for long.

By this time the Indians had started to become troublesome. They would come in parties of six to eight and beg for something to eat, for they were always hungry. Our family was a large one and mother could not give them very much, but I remember she always gave them bread. However, it was meat they wanted, and that we did not have very much of ourselves. There was another great pest that bothered lis greatly. Our cabin was built about forty feet from the timber that I spoke of, and in this timber there were thousands and thousands of wild pigeons, keeping up a constant cooing from the break of dawn until nightfall. I do not know what has become of them, for they seem to be all gone. I think they left when the country became more settled.

Mrs. Mary E. Schwandt Schmidt

My parents had been on their farm about two months when that most terrible day, the eighteenth of August, came. Out of eight persons there was only one left to tell the story. At noon when the family were just about to eat the noon meal, a party of Sioux Indians came and soon all was over. August, ten years old, was struck on the head with a tomahawk and was left as dead. In the night he revived and crawled into the tall grass and reached the fort. He still has the scar on his head. He now lives in British Columbia, at Vancouver.

About three weeks before the outbreak Le grand Davis came to our house and wanted to know if I would go over the river to Joseph B. Reynolds, who kept a stopping place. He wanted a little girl to run errands, dust and so forth, and as they were going to start a school for the Indians I could go to this school at the same time. I needed more schooling and thought this a good chance to acquire it. Mother did not like me to go, but Mr. Davis promised to bring me back in two or three weeks, so she reluctantly gave her consent.. Little did I think that it was the last time I would see her dear face on this earth. The Reynolds's treated me very kindly, more like their own child than a servant, and I liked to live there. After I had lost my parents they wished to adopt me, but I went to live with an uncle in Wisconsin, who also took my brother August. The eighteenth of August came on a Monday. We had just had our breakfast at the Reynolds's and Mary Anderson was just putting on the wash boiler preparing to do the week's washing. Suddenly John Mooer. a half-breed, came running in and said we should all get away as fast as we could, for the Indians had broken out and were killing all the settlers as fast as they could. Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds got into a buggy and drove off, and Mattie Williams, men that had stopped over night at the house. The team belonged to Mr. Patoile, a Frenchman, who hauled goods for the government from one agency to another. The wagon was filled with things they wanted to save, so we started, Mr. Patoile driving the team. We drove from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon, and were about eight miles west of New Dim when we met a party of Indians. We all jumped from the wagon and ran, but we did not run very far before they were upon us, dragging us back. By that time they had killed all the men and some were scalping them. Mary Anderson was shot through the abdomen and died on the fourth day after the shooting. My clothes were riddled by the bullets, but none harmed me. A skirt which I wore has seven holes shot through it and is now in the possession of the D. A. R. at their museum at the Sibley house, Mendota. This skirt was made of heavy muslin and was part of the cover of our wagon when we settled in Renville county.

When we came back to the wagon the Indians had already broken open all the trunks and were dividing the contents. They had with them about twelve other wagons and a great number of horses. The wagons were loaded with plunder of all kinds which they had stolen from the settlers. They ordered us into the wagons and started back to the agency. It was about ten o'clock by the time that we reached Wacouta's home. It was very dark and there was a tallow candle burning. The house was swarming with Indians. Wacouta chased them out and told us to hide up in the loft and he would bring us water and food in the morning, and we were up there three days and two nights. The wounded girl cried for water, for she had a raging fever. During the second night Mattie Williams and I crawled down and went to a corn field, getting some green corn with which we tried to quench her thirst. On the third night we were told to come down, and were taken to Little Crow's village. Mary Anderson died during the night. Mattie Williams' captor took her to his tepee, where he lived with his squaw, and as my captor had no tepee he said he would kill me to be rid of me. When Snana, one of the Indian squaws heard this, she came and looked me over carefully and went away, returning in a short time leading an Indian pony, which she gave my captor, and then took me by the hand and brought me to her tepee. I was adopted into the tribe and had to call her mamma, and she dressed me in Indian clothing and made pretty moccasins for me. She wrapped me in a snow-white blanket, which was, of course, stolen, but it did not stay white very long. Snana was married to Good Thunder and had two papooses. I had to take care of the baby papoose. I always tried to do all she told me and to please her in all things. There was a bond of sympathy between us because she had jusl lust her oldest daughter.

After seven weeks of captivity I was released at Camp Release by General Sibley and his army, with the rest of the white prisoners, and as that occasion has been written up so many times 1 will not mention it here. Mattie Williams was a 'niece of Mr. Reynolds and was visiting from Ohio. She was highly educated and had a beautiful character. Mary Anderson was a pretty Swedish girl and was to have been married soon to a young man from Shakopee. I was only a plain little German girl who did not know much at all at that time. My Indian mother pai-ted from me at Camp Release and we did not meet again for thirty-two years, but have met many times later, and 1 received many nice letters from her. She loved me very much, and I have always felt a gratitude towards her which I could not express in words, for she saved me from a terrible fate when she bought me from my captor with her only pony. - By Mrs. Mary Emilia Schwandt Schmidt.

Mary Emilia Schwandt was born iu the District of Brandenburg, near Berlin, Germany, in March, 1848, daughter of John and ( 'hristina Schwandt. In 1858, when she was ten years of age, the family came to America, and after a brief stay in Canada, located near Ripon, Wis., where they lived about four years. In 1862 they came to Minnesota in two wagons drawn by oxen, journeying up the beautiful Minnesota valley and settling above the mouth of Beaver creek, near Middle creek in what is now the town of Flora. There John Schwandt took up a claim, and built a log house which he covered with a good strong thatched roof made from the tall, tough, dry grass of the Minnesota bottoms. His land was all in the valley or bottom, extending from the bluff to the river. At that time the family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Schwandt, a daughter Caroline, aged 19, her husband, John Walz; a daughter, Mary Emilia, aged 14, and three sons. August, aged 10; Frederick, aged 6; Christian, aged 4. John Frass, a young man lived with them. John Walz had selected a claim and was preparing to move to it the next fall.

Experiences of Charles Lammers. In May, 1862, I came from the city of Cincinnati with my father and mother and brother, Fred. Father homesteaded in the northwest quarter of section 19, township of Flora, Renville county, and at once went to work and built a log house, part of which is still standing. After providing for his family the best he could he went to Fort Ridgley to make hay for the government to earn a few dollars. On August 18, 1862. father came home to take his family down to Fort Ridgley. After we were well started on our way to the fort with other neighbors and a number of oxen teams, etc. the Indians overtook us and made us turn back for a distance of five or six miles.

Then the Indians stopped us ami demanded something to eat. which the whites gladly prepared for them after lunch. Then the Indians commenced to kill the white men just as fast as they could and also many of the women and children. My father was one of those murdered. Mother was in a delicate condition at this time and that, no doubt, saved her life. So mother, brother Fred and myself were taken prisoners by (he Indians. There were also others that were taken prisoners, some of them that I know like August Gluth and Louis Kitzman, boys about twelve and thirteen years old, who were a very good help to mother for a while, but the grub got very scarce and the two boys took French leave at night and after several nights' travel landed at Fort Ridgley. The Indians took a fancy to my brother Fred, who was a boy about seven years old and full of life and energy, so they painted him like an Indian boy and gave him a blanket to roll up in, but they did not care for me. for I was too noisy for them and of no use to them and too hungry, because there was nothing to eat for a kid of my age. One day mother was sent down to the slough to get some water and then the Indians grabbed me by the neck and threw me in the fire; only the quick and daring moves of brother Fred saved me from burning to death. After about six weeks of Indian life and grub we came to our liberty at Camp Release, near where Montevideo is now located. In 1S64 mother was married to George Rieke, who is one of the oldest homesteaders in the township of Cairo, Renville county. He was also one of the gallant defenders at Fort Ridge ly during the entire outbreak. After 1864 we came to live on Mr. Rieke 's farm, which is located at the outlet of Mud lake. in Cairo township, and a very beautiful place. The first work that I did of any importance was to herd sheep and fight wolves. Father had about 200 head of sheep and we boys were to herd them. One day two wolves and one dog came in our flock and killed thirteen sheep, another time nine, and still another time three. The wolves did not kill the shepherd for they knew that he was not good mutton. Father had built a large log stable for the sheep and almost every night the wolves would try to get in at the sheep. Some of the logs in the barn were gnawed half through by the wolves. In the fall of the year the weather was almost suffocating on account, of prairie tire smoke. When the whole northwest prairies were on fire sometimes it would take two or three weeks before the fire would reach our place although we were protected by Mud lake north of our place. In 1864 the first grasshoppers came to tins county, but there wasn't much for them to destroy so they left in 1865 for parts unknown. From that time on this county was settled up very fast. In 1873 on January 6. we had one of the worst snow storms and 1 can remember many people and animals were frozen tn death during the three-day storm. In 1874 another lot of grasshoppers came to visit us. By this time the county was better settled than it was in 1864, so they stayed until 1S77, and then left for parts unknown. Many new settlers left this county at that time and disposed of their land for little or nothing. By this time the people all thought that all this county was good for was the Indians and grasshoppers but since 1878 this county has been very prosperous ami by this time Renville county looks different and is one of the best counties in the state.

German Settlement Wiped Out. Stretching from the valley of Middle creek to the valley of the Sacred Heart, mostly in what is now Flora township, many Germans settled along the Minnesota bottoms prior to the uprising. Early on the morning of August 18. 1862, nearly all of these settlers gathered at the home of John Meyer. Very soon after they had assembled here, grass and bushes. Peter Bjorkman ran toward his own house. Shakopee, whom he knew, saw him, and exclaimed, ''There is Bjorkman; kill him!" but, keeping the building between him and the savages, he plunged into a slough and concealed himself, even removing his shirt, fearing it might be the means of revealing his whereabouts to the lurking savages. Here he lay from early morning until the darkness of night enabled him to leave with safety - suffering unutterable torments, mosquitoes literally swarming upon his naked person, and the hot sun scorching him to the bone.

They immediately attacked the house of Meyer, killing his wife and all Iris children. Seeing his family butchered, and having no means of defense, Meyer effected his escape, and reached Port Ridgely. In the meantime the affrighted people had got together again at the Sitzton home, near Bjorkman 's, to the number of about thirty men. women and children. In the afternoon the savages returned to the house of Sitzton, killing every person there but oue woman, Mi-s. Wilhelmina Eindenfield, and her child. These were captured, and afterward found at Camp Release, but the husband and father was anions- the slain. From his place of concealment Mr. Bjorkman witnessed this attack and wholesale massacre of almost an entire neighborhood. After dark he came out of the slough, and, going to his house, obtained some food and a bundle of clothing, as his house was not yet plundered; fed his dog and calf, and went over to the house of Meyer: here he found the windows all broken in, but did not enter the house. He then went to the house of Sitzton ; his nerves were not equal to the task of entering that charnel-house of death. As he passed the yard, he turned out some cattle that the Indians had not taken away, and hastened toward Fort Ridgely. On the road he overtook a woman and two children. one an infant of six months, the wife and children of John Sateau, who had been killed. Bjorkman took one of the children in his arms, and these companions in misfortune and suffering hurried on together. Mrs. Sateau was nearly naked, and without either shoes or stockings. The rough prairie grass lacerated her naked feet and limbs terribly, and she was about giving out in despair, Bjorkman took from his bundle a shirt, and tearing it in parts, she wound it about her feet, and proceeded.

At daylight they came in sight of the house of Magner, eight miles above the fort. Here they saw some eight or ten Indians, and, turning aside from the road, dropped down into the grass, where they remained until noon, when the Indians disappeared. They again moved toward the fort, but slowly and cautiously, as they did not reach it until about midnight. Upon reaching the fort Mrs. Sateau found two sons, aged ten and twelve years re-

Mrs. Hayden's Escape. Patrick Hayden and his family lived about one and a half miles from the home of J. W. Earle, near Beaver creek. The widow, Mrs. Mary Hayden, after the Outbreak, told the following story:

On the morning of August 18. Mr. Hayden started to go over to the house of J. B. Reynolds, at the Redwood river, on the reservation, and met Thomas Robinson, a half-breed, who told him to go home, get his family, and leave as soon as possible, for the Indians were coming over to kill all the whites. He came immediately home, and we commenced to make preparations to leave, but in a few minutes we saw some three or four Indians coming on horseback. We then went over to the house of a neighbor, Benedict Eune, and found them all ready to leave. I started off with Eune's people, and my husband went back home, still thinking the Indians would not kill any one, and intending to give them some food if they wanted it. I never saw him again.

We drove on till we came to the house of David Faribault, at the foot of the hill, about one and a half miles from the Agency ferry. When we got here two Indians came out of Faribault's house, and stopping the teams, shot Mr. Zimmerman, who was driving, and his two boys. I sprang out of the wagon, and, with my child, one year old, in my arms, ran into the bushes, and went up the hill toward the fort. When I came near the house of Mr. Magner, I saw Indians throwing furniture out of the door, and I went down into the hushes again, on the lower side of the road, and stayed then- until sundown.

While I lay here concealed, I saw the Indians taking the roof olf the warehouse, and saw tin- buildings burning at the Agency. I also heard the firing during the battle at the ferry, when Marsh and his men were killed.

I then went up near the fiirt road, and sitting down under a tree, waited till dark, and then started for Fort Ridgely, carrying my child all the way. 1 arrived at the fort at about 1 o'clock a. m. The distance from our place to Ridgely was seventeen miles.

On Tuesday morning I saw John Magner. who told me that, when the soldiers went up to the Agency the day before, he saw my husband lying in the road, near David Faribault's house, dead. John Hayden. his brother, who lived with us, was found dead near I. a < 'mix creek. They had got up the oxen, and were bringing the family of Mr. Eisenrich to the fort, when they were overtaken by Indians. Eisenrich was killed and his wife and five children were taken prisoners.

Mrs. Zimmerman, who was blind, and her remaining children, and Mrs. Eune and her children, five in number, were captured and taken to the house of David Faribault, where they were kept till night, the savages torturing them by telling them that they were going to fasten them in the house and burn them alive, but for some inexplicable reason let them go, and they, too, reached the fort in safety. Mr. Eune, who with one of his boys, eleven years old, remained behind to drive in his cattle, was met by them on the road and killed. The boy was captured, and, with the other prisoners, recovered at Camp Release.

The neighborhoods in the vicinity of La Croix ereek, and between that and Fort Ridgely, were visited on Monday forenoon, and the people either massacred, driven away or made prisoners. Edward Magner, living eight miles above the fort, was killed. His wife and children had gone to the fort. He had returned to look after his cattle when he was shot. Patrick Kelly and David O'Connor, both single men, were killed near Magner 's.

Horan's Tale. The Horau family lived in what is now Renville county, on the Fort Ridgely road, four miles below the Lower Agency. Kearn Horan, after the outbreak, made the following statement :

On August IS. Patrick Horan. my brother, came early from the Agency and told us that tin- Indians were murdering the whites. He had escaped alone and crossed the ferry, and with some Frenchmen was on his way to the fort. My brothers and William and Thomas Smith went with me. We saw Indians in the road rear Magner 's. Thomas Smith went to them, thinking they were white men, and I saw them kill him. We then turned to flee, and saw men escaping with teams along the road. All fled towards the fort together, the Indians firing upon us as we ran. The teams were oxen, and the Indians were gaining upon us, when one of the men in his excitement dropped his gun. The savages came up to it and picked it up. All stopped to examine it, and the men in the wagons whipped the oxen into a run. This delay enabled us to elude them.

As we passed the house of Ole Sampson, Mrs. Sampson was crying at the door for help. Her three children were with her. We told her to go into the bush and hide, for we could not help her. We ran into a ravine and hid in the grass. After the Indians had hunted some time for us, they came along the side of the ravine, and called to lis in good English, saying, "'Come out, boys; what are you afraid of? We don't want to hurt you." After they left us we crawled out and made our way to the fort, where we arrived at about 4 o'clock p. m. My family had gone there before me. Mrs. Sampson did not go to the bush, but hid in the wagon from which they had recently come from Waseca county. It was what we call a prairie schooner, covered with cloth, a genuine emigrant wagon. They took her babe from her, and throwing it down upon the grass, put hay under the wagon, set fire to it and went away. Mrs. Sampson got out of the wagon, badly burned, and taking her infant from the ground made her way to the fort. Two of her children were burned to death in the wagon. Mr. Sampson had been previously killed about eighty rods from the house.

At Birch Cooley. In the neighborhood of La Croix creek, or Birch Coolie, Peter Pereau, Frederick Clausen, Mr. Piguar, Andrew Bahlke, Henry Keartner. Charles Clausen and Mrs. William Vitt, and several others were killed. Mrs. Maria Frorip, an aged German woman, was wounded four different times with small shot, but escaped to the fort. The wife of Henry Keartner also escaped and reached the fort. The wife and child of a Mr. Cardenelle were taken prisoners, as were also the wife and child of Frederick Clausen. Carl Witt came into Fort Ridgely. but not until he had. with Ids own hands, buried his murdered wife and also a Mr. Piguar.

On the Sacred Heart. A flourishing German settlement had sprung up near Patterson's Rapids, on the Saered Heart, twelve miles below Yellow Medicine.

Word came to this neighborhood about sundown of the eighteenth, thai tin- Indians were murdering the whites. This news was brought to them by two men who had started from the Lower Agency, and had seen the lifeless and mutilated remains of the murdered victims lying upon the road and in their plundered dwellings towards Beaver creek. The whole neighborhood, with the exception of one family, that of .Mr. Schwandt, soon assembled at the house of Paul Kitzman, with their oxen and wagons, and prepared to start for Fort Ridgely.

A messenger was sent to the house of Schwandt but the Indian rifle and the tomahawk had done their fearful work. Of all that family hut two survived; one a boy. August, who witnessed the awful scene of butchery, and he then went on his May. covered with blood, towards Fort Ridgely. The other, a young girl, of about seventeen years of age. then residing at Redwood, was captured. Her story is told elsewhere.

The party at Kitzman 's started in the evening to make their escape, going so as to avoid the settlements ami the traveled roads, striking across tie- country toward the head of Beaver creek.

They traveled this way all night, and in the morning changed their course towards Fort Ridgely. They continued in this direction until the sun was some two hours high, when they were met by eight Sioux Indians, who told them that the murders were committed by Chippewas, and that they had come over to protect them and punish the murderers; and thus induced them to turn hack toward their homes. One of the savages spoke English well. He was acquainted with some of the company, having often hunted with Paul Kitzman. He kissed Kit/man, telling him he was a good man; and they shook hands with all of the party. The simple hearted Germans believed them, gave them food, distributed money among them, and, gratefully receiving their assurances of friendship and protection, turned back.

They traveled on toward their deserted homes till noon, when they again halted, and gave their pretended protectors food. The Indians went away by themselves to eat. The suspicions of the fugitives were now somewhat aroused, but they felt that they were, to a great extent, in the power of the wretches. They soon came hack, and ordered them to go on, taking their position on each side of the train. Soon after they went on and disappeared. The train kept on toward home ; and when within a few rods of a house, where they thought they could defend themselves, as they had guns with them, they were suddenly surrounded by fourteen Indians, who instantly fired upon them, killing eight (all but three of the men), at the first discharge. At the next fire they killed two of the remaining men and six of the women, leaving only one man. Frederick Kreiger. alive. His wife was also, as yet, unhurt. They soon dispatched Kreiger. and, at the same time, began beating out the brains of the screaming children with the butts of their guns. Mrs. Kreiger was standing in the wagon, and, when her husband fell, attempted to spring from it to the ground, but was shot from behind, and fell back in the wagon-box, although not dead, or entirely unconscious. She was roughly seized and dragged to the ground, and the teams were driven off. She now became insensible. A few of the children, during this awful scene, escaped to the timber near by; and a few also maimed and mangled by these horrible monsters, and left for dead, survived, ami, after enduring incredible hardships, got to Fort Ridgely. Mrs. /able, and five children, were horribly mangled, and almost naked, entered the fort eleven days afterward. Mrs. Kreiger also survived her sufferings.

Some forty odd bodies were afterward found and buried on that fatal field of slaughter. Thus perished, by the hands of these terrible scourges of the border, almost an entire neighborhood. Quiet, sober, and industrious, they had come hither from the vine-clad hills of their fatherland, by the green shores and gliding waters of the enchanting Rhine, and had built for themselves homes, where they had fondly hoped, in peace and quiet, to spend yet long years, under the fair, blue sky. and in the sunny clime of Minnesota, when suddenly, and in one short hour. by the hands of those whose land they had usurped, they were doomed to one common annihilation.

Brown's Family Captured. The news of the murders below reached Leopold Wohler at the "lime-kiln," three miles below Yellow Medi'eine, on Monday afternoon. Taking his wife, he crossed the Minnesota river, and went to the house of Major Joseph R. Brown, on the Sacred Heart.

Major Brown's family consisted of his wife and nine children; Angus Brown and wife, and Charles Blair, a son-in-law, his wife, and two children. The Major himself was away from home. Including Wohler and his wife, there were then at their ho\ise. on the evening of the eighteenth of August, eighteen persons.

They started, early on the morning of the nineteenth, to make their escape, with one or two others of their neighbors, Charles Holmes, a single man. residing on the claim above them, being of the party. They were overtaken near Beaver creek by Indians, and all of the Browns, Mr. Blair and family, and Mrs. Wohler, were captured, and taken at once to Little Crow's village. Messrs. Wohler and Holmes escaped. Major Brown's family were of mixed Indian blood. This fact, probably, accounts for their saving the life of Blair, who was a white man.

Crow told him to go away, as his young men were going to kill him; and he made his escape to Port Ridgely, being out some five days and nights without food. When he entered the post, he was completely exhausted yet Lieutenant Sheehan had him arrested and confined as a spy thus hastening his death. Mr. Blair was in poor health. The hardships he endured were too much for his already shattered constitution; and although he escaped the tomahawk and scalping-knife, he was soon numbered among the victims of the massacre.

J. H. Ingalls. a Scotchman, who resided in this neighborhood, and his wife, were killed, and their four children were taken into captivity. Two of them, young girls, aged twelve and fourteen years, were rescued at Camp Release, and the two little boys were taken away by Little Crow. Their fate is still shrouded in mystery. A Mr. Frace, residing near Brown's place, was also killed. His wife and two children were found at Camp Release.

John Kochendorfer, Jr. August 18, 1S612, came the terrible events which robbed so many families of parents or children and in some instances wiped out entire families. My father was in the field, haying, when called into the log claim house to partake of the lunch which my mother had prepared. He had stepped into the bedroom when an Indian, as was customary in that locality in those days, called at the cabin and asked for my father. The Indian had a gun in his hand, which he stood near the corner of the house outside. My father then opened the door of the room, greeting with his usual cordiality the

Indian, who seemed friendly. The redskin then took the family axe that stood at the corner of the house, and threw it in the brush, a short distance from the house. Although I was a boy of but eleven years, I noticed that something was wrong and called my father's attention to what the Indian had done. My father then went out and brought back the axe. In the meantime I noticed that the Indians Were gathering in groups in the distance. My father then took up his position in front of the cabin, with one foot on tin- bench, ready to protect my mother anil us helpless children, of whom I was the oldest. A shot rang out on the air and my father fell backward, the victim of the kindness. Prior to his death he had warned us children to flee for our lives. My mother was washing at the time and while running we heard the screams which showed she, too, had fallen a victim to savage cruelty. My youngest sister, Sarah, was in hiding under the bed. She, too, was dragged forth and cruelly slaughtered. I took my sisters, named Rose, Katie and Maggie, aged at that time nine, seven and five, respectively, and ran for the woods, running seven miles before we met anyone. Our neighbor, Michael Belter, came down the road, and at first we were afraid that he was another Indian. But we were finally reassured and after he overtook us we told him our terrible story. We were informed by him that a party was on its way with wagons following us. Later as we continued our way we were overtaken by them. We were carried to Fort Ridgely that night and there our whole party remained until reinforcements arrived from St. Paul, two weeks later, when a provision train with a company of cavalry as an escort, took us to St. Peter, from where we were started on a boat for the city of St. Paid. Editor's Note: Some years ago while excavations were being conducted on the farm of Henry Timms, the bones of a man, woman and child were found. These were claimed by John Kochendorfer, Jr., as those of his father and mother and sister.