MARRIAGE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.

In the olden time officers could not always readily be found to execute the laws. Parties desiring to be married, being unable to secure the services of a minister or justice of the peace, would seek for an officer on the other side of the river, get on a raft or boat, cast off the fastenings and under the concurrent jurisdiction of the state and territorial authorities, would be p.r.o.nounced "man and wife."

Parties have had the same rite performed in the winter season while standing on the ice of the St. Croix midway between the two sh.o.r.es.

AN INDIAN SCARE.

During the excitement following the Indian outbreak, there was a general feeling of insecurity and alarm. The half-breeds were especially apprehensive of some kind of violence. One bright moonlight evening, at St. Croix, a surveyor was taking some observations, and as his instrument glittered brightly in the moonlight, the half-breeds saw it and fled, badly frightened, fancying a Sioux behind every bush.

The whites seeing them running, as if for their lives, caught the panic, and fled over to the Minnesota side. The Taylor's Falls people were aroused from their peaceful slumbers to find, soon after, that it was a false alarm. Some of the fugitives hid underneath the bridge and clung to the trestle work till morning.

THE FIRST FIRE CANOE.

I am indebted to Calvin A. Tuttle for the following reminiscence: In July, 1838, the steamer Palmyra, Capt. Middleton, of Hannibal, Missouri, in command, the first steamer on St. Croix waters, brought me to St. Croix Falls, landing in the Dalles, east side, opposite Angle Rock. The snorting of the Palmyra brought many curiosity seeking Indians to the Dalles. They gathered on the pinnacles of the trap rock, peered curiously over and jumped back, trembling with fright at the "Scota Cheman" or "fire canoe," the first that had ever floated on the placid waters of the St. Croix. I had been employed as millwright to erect mills in the new, and, as yet, almost unknown settlement. On the Palmyra came the proprietors, Steele, Fitch, Hungerford, Libbey, Livingston, Hill, and Russell, with mill irons, tools and provisions for the enterprise.

MILL BUILDING.

After climbing over the cragged rocks we came to an Indian trail which led to the Falls, where we found two men, Lagoo and Denire holding the claim for Steele. The fanciful scheme of building a mill up in the wild land looked now like a reality. The men lived in a log cabin just below the Falls, in a small clearing in the timber, near a copper rock range. Boyce and his men had been driven in by Indians from above.

Andrew Mackey and others of Boyce's men went to work with us.

Thirty-six men had come from St. Louis on the steamer Palmyra. We moved our machinery from the Dalles to the Falls by water and commenced work immediately. Steele's men had been hindered by the Indians from procuring timber for the building of the mill. We obtained a supply from Kanabec river, which arrived September 15th.

Building the mill and blasting the rock occupied our attention during the winter. The mill was soon completed and running. During this period the work was often interrupted and the men were greatly demoralized by the threatening behavior of the Indians. Many of them were frightened into leaving the settlement, but their places were supplied by the company whenever practicable. During 1840 we received some reliable accessions, among them J. L. Taylor, John McKusick, Joseph Haskell, Elam Greely, J. W. Furber and A. McHattie. Some frame houses were built near the mill. Washington Libbey was our first agent, Darnes our second (1839), Capt. W. Frazer our third (1840), Capt. Wm. Holcombe our fourth (1841). The first death was of a man drowned in 1840. The first white woman who visited the Falls was Mrs.

David Hone. Rev. Boutwell preached here in 1839. A. Northrup and family came in 1840.

INDIAN MURDERS.

In 1840 Jeremiah Russell, the Indian farmer at Pokegama, Pine county, Minnesota, sent two Chippewa Indians to St. Croix Falls for supplies, who arrived in safety. A band of fifty Sioux Indians were concealed at this (St. Croix Falls) settlement for some days. Within an hour after the arrival of the two Chippewas, the settlement was surrounded by these Sioux. The whites, seeing that trouble was brewing, secreted the Chippewas for two days, the Sioux closely watching. The white men were restless, and afraid to go to work. Capt. Frazer, Rev. Ayers and myself held a council and explained the situation to the Chippewas, who replied that they would not expose the whites to trouble. They resolved on leaving and started in open day north over the trap rock ridge, thence through the bushes, where they discovered two Sioux. The Chippewas were armed and fired on the Sioux, killing them instantly.

The Chippewas then started to run. The report of the guns brought squads of Sioux immediately in pursuit, who, firing on the Chippewas, killed one. The two dead Sioux were sons of Little Crow. They were placed by the Sioux in a sitting posture, with backs to a tree, facing the enemy's country, on the second bench near where the mill dam was subsequently built, a double barreled gun standing on the ground between them. They decorated the corpses with war paint, ribbons and mosses. The two Chippewas who killed Little Crow's sons bore the t.i.tles Julius and Wezhaymah. The Sioux in pursuit killed Julius, and his head was hung up in a kettle before those he had slain. His body was chopped in pieces and scattered to the four winds.

From an historical letter, written by Mrs. E. T. Ayer, who lives at Belle Prairie, Minnesota, and whom we have elsewhere mentioned, we have the following description of the death of the sons of Little Crow:

"Julius was of medium height, stout build, very neat, and when in full dress very few Indians would favorably compare with him. Being a good hunter he had the means of gratifying his taste. His hair was long and abundant, and was kept clean and shining by the frequent use of comb and brush, with the help of a little marrow or bear's oil. Three or four of his numerous long braids, studded with silver brooches, hung gracefully on both sides of his face and over his arms--the rest of his dress in a manner corresponding. His hair, like Absalom's, did not save him from his enemies. The Dakotas may dance around it for generations and never see its equal.

"Wezhaymah made his appearance at Pokegama. As he drew near the houses he gave a salute from his double barreled gun. The Ojibways were much frightened. They believed the Sioux had returned to make another trial for scalps and plunder. The first impulse of the women was to hide.

The chief's wife and oldest daughter being at the mission house, went through a trap door into a dark cellar. But when the supposed dead stood before them, alive and well, there was great rejoicing.

"Wezhaymah said that Julius killed both of Little Crow's sons; that the Sioux followed him but a short distance, then all turned after Julius. He took a circuitous route home, traveling in the night and hiding in the day. Julius' parents, Joseph and Eunice, and other members of their family, were members of the mission church. He and his wife made no profession, though they sometimes attended religious worship."

About twenty days after, about one hundred Sioux came from little Crow's band at Red Rock for the bodies of their dead comrades and the gun, having first, by means of spies, satisfied themselves that there were no Chippewas in the vicinity. One morning, as the whites were going to work, they were surprised by the sudden appearance of these Indians, who rushed suddenly down upon them from different trails, gorgeously painted and without blankets. Their movements were so sudden that the whites were completely surprised, and at the mercy of the Indians, who, however, satisfied themselves with searching the camp and appropriating all the victuals they could find, ostensibly searching for the gun which was not to be found where they had left it. Complaining bitterly of its loss, they withdrew to a trap rock ledge near by, where they formed a circle, danced, sung and fired several guns into the air. They then asked to see "Oge-ma," the agent, and formally demanded the gun. Everyone in camp denied any knowledge whatever of the missing article. The Indians were at first much dissatisfied, but finally Little Crow advanced, smoked a pipe and offered it to. Capt. Frazer, shook hands and withdrew, apparently in peace.

As it is not the custom for Indians to molest the dead, they firmly believed a white man had taken the gun. Little Crow applied to Maj.

Plympton at Fort Snelling, charging the theft upon the whites. The major in turn wrote to Capt. Frazer at the Falls to make an investigation, as a result of which the gun was found in a tool chest belonging to Lewis Barlow, concealed under a false bottom. Barlow professed entire innocence and ignorance of the matter, suggesting that his brother must have placed the gun there. Capt. Frazer severely reprimanded him for imperiling the lives of all the whites in the settlement by his foolish and thievish act. The gun was sent to Maj.

Plympton, who wrote to Capt. Frazer cautioning him to be on his guard, as the Indians were much irritated. Barlow had earned the contempt and dislike of his fellow workmen.

INDIAN BATTLE OF STILLWATER

Mr. Tuttle was at the Falls at the time of the famous battle between the Sioux and Chippewas, which was fought in the ravine where the Minnesota state prison now stands, July 3, 1839, and has given me the following account:

The Chippewas of the St. Croix had been invited by the officer in command at Fort Snelling to a council, the object of which was to effect a treaty of peace. Two hundred and fifty or three hundred Chippewas, including their women and children, pa.s.sed down the St.

Croix in canoes, rested in fancied security in the ravine near the present site of Stillwater, and made a portage thence to Fort Snelling, where, under protection of government soldiers, the council was held. The pipe of peace had been smoked and the Chippewas were quietly returning home, and had encamped a second time in the ravine, expecting to re-embark the next morning on the waters of the St.

Croix. Just at the dawn of the ensuing day, and while they were still asleep, a large body of Sioux, who had stealthily followed them, fell upon them suddenly, and with wild yells commenced an indiscriminate slaughter. The Chippewas rallying, drove the Sioux from the ground, thereby retaining possession of their dead, to the number of about thirty. After the smoke of peace at Fort Snelling it was reported that a Sioux had been killed. This incensed them so that they followed in two parties, one party pursuing the St. Croix band and another the Mille Lacs band up Rum river. The latter party overtook the Chippewas at the point where Princeton is now located, and slew sixty of their number. It was afterward ascertained that the Sioux killed near Fort Snelling was killed by a Pillager of the Upper Mississippi, an Indian of a band that was not in the council. The Sioux and Chippewas, it is true, are bitter, relentless, hereditary foes, but this slaughter occurred through a grievous mistake. The Chippewas, on their return, rested at the Falls. Capt. Frazer gave them medicine, dressed their wounds and fed them. The Indians gave way to the wildest grief at their losses, and when they heard of the sixty killed of the Mille Lacs band, their mourning cries and moans baffled description.

THE FIRST LOGGERS.

The first logs were cut by J. R. Brown on the Taylor's Falls flat in the winter of 1836-37, but the first regular outfit and camp was that of John Boyce, who came up in a mackinaw boat from St. Louis with eleven men and six oxen, landing at St. Croix Falls late in the fall of 1837. Mr. Andrew Mackey, who was in his party, has furnished me with some items regarding this adventure. The boat was cordelled over the rapids, and, with poles and lines, taken as far as the mouth of Kanabec river, where a camp was established. Boyce had considerable trouble with the Indians. Little Six, a Chippewa chief, came to the camp with two hundred warriors in a defiant, bl.u.s.tering manner, telling him to "go away," to "go back where they came from." Boyce proceeded to the Indian mission at Lake Pokegama and invoked the aid of Rev. Mr. Boutwell, Ely, Ayers and Seymour, who came back with him to the camp and had a "talk" with Little Six, who claimed that the whites had paid no money. Mr. Seymour explained to them the provisions of the treaty, of which they would soon hear; that under its provisions the whites had a right to the timber; that they were not usurpers, that they would live peaceably and not disturb their game.

The Indians granted a.s.sent, but refused to allow the whites to remove any of their chingwack (pine). Mr. Seymour, apprehending trouble, advised Mr. Boyce to leave. He determined to remain. The Indians being still troublesome, Mr. Boyce descended the river to the falls, the Indians following. On going over the falls the boat filled and Mr.

Boyce lost nearly all he had. The Palmyra shortly after broke the silence of the Dalles with its shrill whistle and brought the news of the ratification of the treaty by Congress. Boyce sent his boat down the river, built small boats and made haste to return to his camp on Kanabec river, where he remained through the fall and winter cutting logs.

THE FIRST RAFTING.

In April and May of 1839, Boyce rafted his logs with poles and ropes made of ba.s.swood strings. The high water swept them away. He gathered from the broken rafts enough for one raft, made it as strong as possible, and continued the descent. The raft struck upon the first island and went to pieces. Boyce saved the canoe and a part of the provisions. Boyce was by this time in a furious rage at his want of success, but tried a third time to make a raft. The crew, tired and hungry, refused to work. A new contract was made and written on a slate, there being no paper. The logs were left in the river. Some of them floated down and were sold to the Falls company and to the company at Marine. Boyce lost all his labor and investment; the men got but little for their work. Frank Steele had a.s.sisted in supplying provisions and clothing for the men, the value of which he never received. Boyce was disgusted and left the country.

AN INDIAN PAYMENT.

Levi W. Stratton, who came up on the Palmyra, July, 1838, gives a few reminiscences from which we select an account of a payment made to the Chippewa Indians the year of his arrival. The crew and pa.s.sengers of the Palmyra had been greatly annoyed by the Indians, who expected their first payment in July, and besieged the boat in great numbers, demanding it at the hands of the first whites who had come up the river, unable to understand the difference between the regularly const.i.tuted authorities and those immigrants who had nothing to do with the payments. It was not until the first week of November that their goods came for payment. The place where Stillwater now stands was selected as the place where they should a.s.semble.

The old stern wheel Gipsey brought the goods and landed them on the beach. The Chippewas came there to the number of 1,100 in their canoes, nearly starved by waiting for their payment. While there receiving it the river and lake froze up, and a deep snow came on; thus all their supplies, including one hundred barrels of flour, twenty-five of pork, kegs of tobacco, bales of blankets, guns and ammunition, casks of Mexican dollars, etc., all were sacrificed except what they could carry off on their backs through the snow hundreds of miles away. Their fleet of birch canoes they destroyed before leaving, lest the Sioux might have the satisfaction of doing the same after they left.

Many of the old as well as the young died from overeating, they being nearly starved. Thus their first payment became a curse rather than a blessing to them, for their supplies soon gave out, the season for hunting was past, they were away from home and had no means of getting there, except by wading through deep snow. Many perished in the attempt. As is usual in such cases, I suppose, no one was to blame, but the poor Indians had to suffer the consequences of somebody's neglect. The old Gipsey had scarcely time to get through the lake before the ice formed.

INDIAN DANCING AND THEFT.

In the rough log cabin at St. Croix Falls were three females, the wives of Messrs. Orr and Sackett, employes of the company, and Miss Young, daughter of a widower of that name. Life in that cabin was by no means a dream of bliss, for in consequence of the mosquitoes, more relentless persecutors than the Indians, a smudge had to be kept burning night and day, or at least by day when the sun was not shining. The old cabin served for a kitchen, while an arbor was improvised outside for a dining room. Shortly after the arrival of the immigrants, and before they had learned all the peculiarities of Indian character, they were visited by a party of fifteen or twenty braves, who set about adorning themselves, and spent the forenoon in painting and getting themselves up in gorgeous rig, regardless of expense, preparatory to giving a free entertainment. Just before dinner was called, they arranged themselves near the table and gave a dance, which was very much applauded, after which they were given presents of bread and meat, and dismissed, apparently highly pleased with the success of their exhibition. The household gathered about the table to enjoy their repast, but to their consternation, not a knife, fork or spoon could be found. While the majority of the Indians were riveting the attention of the new comers by their extraordinary antics, the remainder were quietly abstracting the tableware. They were afterward charged with the theft, but protested innocence. The missing articles were never heard of again. A pig of lead, left outside, disappeared at the same time. The poor Indians denied ever having seen the lead. Mr. Stratton remarked, however, that all their war clubs, pipes and gun stocks had been lately and elaborately ornamented with molten lead.

OTHER THEFTS.

At another time, shortly before payment, when the Indians were unusually hungry and troublesome, two barrels of pork and one of b.u.t.ter mysteriously disappeared. The pork barrels were found empty in the river, and also the b.u.t.ter barrel with one-third of the contents missing. The Indians lay all day in camp sick, but protested their innocence. Nevertheless, at payment day a claim of two hundred dollars for the pork and one hundred and fifty for the b.u.t.ter was allowed and kept back. They made no objections to paying for the pork, but protested against paying for the b.u.t.ter, as it did them no good and made them all sick.

In September, an old Indian came to the cabin, begging for something to eat. The agent went to the pork barrel and held up a fine piece of pork weighing about twelve pounds, to which the tail was still attached. At sight of this his countenance fell and he went away silently and sullenly.

Shortly afterward a yoke of oxen was missing. They had been driven off over some bare ledges of trap to break the trail. An Indian was hired to hunt for them. He found that this same beggar who had been so disgusted with the offer of a piece of pork with the tail attached had driven them off and slaughtered them. Payment day made all right, and the Indians were compelled to pay a good price for rather poor beef.

HARD TIMES.

Mrs. Mary C. Worth communicated to the writer the following incidents, ill.u.s.trating some of the vicissitudes of the early settlers:

It was in the fall of 1842. There were about two hundred people in the village, most of them in the employ of James Purinton, company agent.

They were already short of provisions and the winter was rapidly coming on, and the expected boat, with its cargo of provisions for the winter supply, was long delayed. September pa.s.sed, October came and nearly pa.s.sed, and still no boat. Snow covered the ground, and thin ice the river. The ice, in finely broken pieces, floated down the rapids and was beginning to gorge in the Dalles, and still no boat.

Provisions were allotted to the resident families, and the gloomiest antic.i.p.ations filled all minds at the prospect of the long, dreary winter without food; when, on the twenty-eighth of October, the long expected whistle was heard from the coming steamer. The people rushed frantically down to the old warehouse, but the ice was so gorged in the Dalles that no boat could make the landing. No boat was in sight, nor was the whistle heard again. Had it all been an illusion? The eager throng were again in despair. Another night of cold would blockade the river. Just then the voices of white men were heard from the rocks of the Dalles, and to their great joy they perceived the boat's officers and pa.s.sengers clambering down from the rocks, with the glad tidings that the boat had reached the landing, half a mile below, and was then unloading her cargo. The boat, as soon as unloaded, hurriedly departed to avoid being frozen in. The winter pa.s.sed merrily enough, but clouds and darkness gathered in the spring.

Provisions were again short, and had to be apportioned sparingly and equally. Occasionally a deer or a fish eked out the supply, but starvation was again imminent. On this occasion they were relieved by the reception of condemned pork from Fort Snelling. The St. Louis proprietors sent up another boat load of supplies after the opening of navigation, and all seemed well, when, during the prevalence of high water, the boom and mill race gave way and the logs, their main dependence, were swept down the river and beyond their control. This important occurrence, as it then seemed to be, opened up for the company and people a new trade from the valley below, which has been a source of immense profit. It suggested the idea of booming and rafting their logs for points down the river, and led to the building of the first saw mill at Stillwater.