'Three Score Years and Ten'
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Charlotte Ouisconsin Van Cleve >> 'Three Score Years and Ten'
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10 Three Score Years
and Ten.
[Illustration]
"THREE SCORE YEARS AND TEN,"
LIFE-LONG MEMORIES
OF
_FORT SNELLING, MINNESOTA_,
AND
OTHER PARTS OF THE WEST,
BY
CHARLOTTE OUISCONSIN VAN CLEVE.
1888.
COPYRIGHTED 1888.
PRINTING HOUSE
HARRISON & SMITH,
257 AND 259 FIRST AVENUE SOUTH,
MINNEAPOLIS, MINN.
_DEDICATION._
"_To the husband of my youth, by whose side I have journeyed more than
half a century, and whose tender love has brightened my whole life,
this book is dedicated._"
ST. PAUL, MINNESOTA,
_515 Portland Avenue_.
March 14, 1888.
MY DEAR MRS. VAN CLEVE:
_Whenever there is growth in any community the desire arises to know
something of what was in the beginning. It was with no weariness I
read in manuscript the "Reminiscences" from your pen. Each chapter
contains something in connection with the dawn of civilization in the
west, which is worthy of being preserved. The incidents related are
stirring, and the style is graphic. When I finished the perusal I felt
the force of the adage, that "Truth is Stranger than Fiction." As the
diary of John Evelyn, throwing light upon the days of Charles the
Second, is still read, so I think, if printed, your unaffected
narrative will always find a place in the private and public libraries
of Minnesota and the Western States._
_Believe me_,
_Sincerely_,
EDWARD D. NEILL.
* * * * *
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. 7
II. 16
III. 24
IV. 32
V. 38
VI. A COINCIDENCE. 45
VII. ANDREW TULLY. 49
VIII. A WOLF STORY. 62
IX. RED RIVER OR SELKIRK SETTLEMENT. 68
X. RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 74
XI. 80
XII. CINCINNATI. 91
XIII. NEW HOME--SCHOOL DAYS. 99
XIV. FATHER'S DEATH, ETC. 105
XV. 110
XVI. 125
XVII. 131
XVIII. MALCOLM CLARK. 148
XIX. 157
XX. 161
XXI. 167
XXII. THE GOLDEN WEDDING. 173
* * * * *
"Three Score Years and Ten."
_CHAPTER I._
One evening long ago, when this wonderful century, now in a vigorous
old age, had just passed its nineteenth birthday, in a bright,
cheerful sitting-room in the good old city of Hartford, Conn., sat a
fair young matron beside a cradle in which lay sleeping a beautiful
boy a year and a half old. The gentle motion of her little slippered
foot on the rocker, keeping time with the soft humming of a cradle
hymn; the work-basket near by; and the dainty needle work in her hand;
the table tastefully spread for two, and the clear wood fire in the
old-fashioned fireplace, formed as restful a picture of domestic peace
and content as one could wish to see.
But the expectant look in the bright blue eyes, uplifted at each
sound, clearly indicated that some one was coming who should round out
this little circle and make it complete.
And now the familiar footstep draws near and the husband and father
enters; she rises joyfully to meet him, but seeing in his face a look
of grief or pain, exclaims, "What is it, dear husband?" He holds her
very close, but cannot find words to tell her that which will cross
all their cherished plans of a year's quiet resting in her native
city; and handing her an official document, with its ominous red seal
newly broken, he watches her anxiously as she reads:
_Lieutenant Nathan Clark, U. S. Fifth Infantry_: You are
hereby appointed Assistant Commissary of Subsistence, and
will forthwith join your regiment at Detroit, which is under
orders to move to the Mississippi river and establish a
military post at the mouth of the St. Peters river.
With respect and esteem,
GEORGE GIBSON,
Com. Gen. of Subsistence.
Twice she reads this order, and then, looking up with a smile, says,
with a slight tremor in her voice: "Is this all, beloved? Why should
it so distress you? You surely do not flinch from duty?" With a
perceptible start at such a suggestion, the gallant young soldier
replies: "No, no, my precious wife; but this means separation from you
and our boy, for you cannot venture on so long and perilous a journey
as that, and our separation is not for days and months, it may be for
years; how can I endure it? And we were so happy here in our snug
little cottage--you in the midst of early friends and beloved
relatives, your childhood companions and associations all about you;
and I with my duties as recruiting officer. We had reason to hope and
expect at least a year longer of this life, and this sudden blasting
of our hopes seems cruel. Oh, Charlotte! how can you bear the
thought?" As he thus poured out his heart, her eyes regarded him with
wonder, and when he ceased she drew him to his favorite chair, and,
seating herself on a low stool beside him, took his hand in hers, and,
looking up at him through her tears, said with ineffable tenderness:
"My own dear husband; how could you for a moment imagine that this
order means separation? Could you believe that I would remain here in
comfort, and suffer you to go alone to that far-off region where, if
ever, you will need me to cheer and aid you? If my marriage vows mean
anything, they mean that I am not to forsake you at such a time as
this. What would the comforts of this dear home, what the society of
relatives and friends be to me, with you in a wild country, in the
midst of a savage people, deprived of almost everything that makes
life dear? No, no, my beloved; where thou goest I will go; thy people
shall be my people; entreat me not to leave thee, or to refrain from
following after thee, for naught but death shall part thee and me."
The young soldier took his true, brave wife to his heart, and, holding
her close, exclaimed: "How deep and sacred is the love of woman! who
can comprehend its entire unselfishness?" and both found relief in
blessed tears of love and thankfulness which cleared away all doubts
and anxieties and filled them with hope and happiness. Over the
evening meal future plans were cheerfully discussed, dangers and
difficulties were looked bravely in the face, and feeling that, with
undying love for each other and entire trust in God, they could meet
and conquer whatever lay in their way, these young people rested
peacefully during that night, which had shown them how firm was the
bond which held them to each other, and were strengthened to meet the
storm of opposition that broke upon them in the morning from the
relatives and friends of the young wife and mother.
Preparations were rapidly made; household goods disposed of; all
things necessary for a long, toilsome journey packed; heart-breaking
"good-byes" were spoken, and the faces of the travelers were turned
westward.
A wearisome stage journey of many days brought them to Buffalo, where,
after resting a short time, they embarked in schooners for Detroit on
the 1st of May, which city they reached in time to move forward with
the regiment by water to Green Bay; thence in batteaux they ascended
the Fox river to Lake Winnebago. Col. Leavenworth, then in command of
the regiment, having received instructions to conciliate the Indians,
and avoid everything which might arouse the opposition of these owners
of the soil, determined to stop at this point to hold a council with
them, and crave permission to proceed on their journey. This being
announced to the chiefs of the tribe, they assembled to hear what the
"white brother" had to say. The day was beautiful; the troops, all in
full uniform, "with bayonets glancing in the sun," made an imposing
display, and everything was done to render it a memorable and
impressive occasion. The ladies of the party--Mrs. Leavenworth, Mrs.
Gooding, with their young daughters, and Mrs. Clark, with her baby boy
were seated on the turf enjoying the novelty and beauty of the scene,
when some Indian women, attracted by the unusual sight, drew timidly
near and gazed in wonder at what they saw. One of the officers, Major
Marston, the wag of the party, learning that one of them was the head
chief's wife, desired to show her some distinguishing mark of respect,
and, leading her into the group of ladies, said, with due ceremony,
"This is the Queen, ladies; make room for the Queen;" but as this
specimen of royalty was almost too highly perfumed with a mingled odor
of fish and musk-rat to suit the cultivated taste of her entertainers,
they did not hail her advent with any marked enthusiasm.
When all was in order, Colonel Leavenworth stepped forth, and, through
an interpreter, formally requested of the Chief permission to pass
peaceably through their country. The Chief, a very handsome young
brave, advanced, and, with his right arm uncovered, said, with most
expressive gestures: "My brother, do you see the calm, blue sky above
us? Do you see the lake that lies so peacefully at our feet? So calm,
so peaceful are our hearts towards you. Pass on!" With this full
permission so gracefully bestowed, after resting and refreshing
themselves among their newly-made friends, the troops left among them
a liberal supply of beads and trinkets and passed on to that point on
the river, least distant from the Ouisconsin, where they made a
portage, transporting their boats and supplies, by the aid of Indians
hired for the purpose, a distance of a mile and a half. This was a
tedious process, but was at last successfully accomplished, and the
boats were again afloat on the stream, called by the Indians the
"Nee-na-hoo-na-nink-a," (beautiful little river), and by the whites
"Ouisconsin," the French orthography for what we now write
"Wisconsin." The place of transit from one river to the other was
known for years as the Portage. At the point where the troops made
preparations for crossing it was afterwards built Fort Winnebago, and
directly opposite the fort, on a pretty knoll, stood for many years
the Indian agency occupied for a long time by John Kinzie, agent,
afterwards better known as one of the first owners of Chicago, and
Mrs. Kinzie's "Waubun," or early day, gives a very pleasant and
reliable account of that locality and the surrounding country. The
point on the Wisconsin where the re-embarkation of the troops took
place has grown into Portage City.
In spite of heavy rains and other discouraging circumstances, the
tedious descent of the Ouisconsin was at length successfully
accomplished, and at its mouth stood old Fort Crawford and a
settlement of French and half-breeds called "Prairie du Chien." This
fort was simply a rude barracks, and far from comfortable. The two
months' journey from Buffalo had been very trying, serious obstacles
and hindrances had been encountered and barely overcome, but instead
of reaching their final destination in June, as they confidently
expected to do, the troops arrived at Fort Crawford on the morning of
the first day of July, worn out and exhausted. It was therefore
determined to remain at this point some weeks for rest and renewal of
strength, before making the final plunge into the unknown wilderness,
into the very midst of savages, who might resist their progress and
cause them much trouble.
The transportation of their supplies had been attended with so much
difficulty that, notwithstanding all possible care, the pork barrels
leaked badly and the contents were rusty; the flour had been so
exposed to dampness that for the depth of three inches or more it was
solid blue mould, and there was no choice between this wretched fare
and starvation, for the miserable country about the fort afforded no
supplies.
Just at this juncture, scarcely an hour after her arrival, Mrs.
Clark's second child was born, and named Charlotte, for her mother, to
which was added by the officers "Ouisconsin." When one calls to mind
all the care and comforts and luxuries demanded at the present time on
such occasions, it is difficult to realize how my mother endured her
hardships, and when I add that almost immediately both she and my
brother were seized with fever and ague, which soon exhausted their
strength and made them very helpless, it would seem almost beyond
belief that she should survive.
The new-born infant was entirely deprived of the nourishment nature
kindly provides for incipient humanity, thus complicating to a great
degree the trials of that dreadful time. My dear father could never
speak of that experience without a shudder, and has told me, with much
emotion, how he scoured the whole country to find suitable nourishment
for mother and children, with wretched success; adding that, but for
the dear mother's unfailing courage, her wonderfully hopeful
disposition and her firm trust in God, he could hardly have endured
these heavy trials. The surgeon of the regiment at that time (I think
his name was Burns) was a man of science and great skill in his
profession, but an inveterate drunkard, and it was no uncommon
occurrence, when his services were needed, to find him so stupefied
with liquor that nothing but a liberal sousing in cold water would fit
him for duty, and I imagine that "_soaking the doctor_" became a
source of merriment which may have diverted their minds from heavier
trials.
So long a time must have elapsed before the provisions could have been
officially condemned and fresh supplies sent from St. Louis, the
nearest base of supplies, for red tape was more perplexing and
entangling then than now, when it is sent back and forth by lightning,
that it was concluded to continue the journey with what they had, and
so the troops moved on, and the feeble mother, the sick child and the
little "Daughter of the Regiment" went with them.
By reference to "Neill's History of Minnesota," I see mention made
there of the arrival of ordnance, provisions and recruits from St.
Louis before the departure from Prairie du Chien, but am inclined to
believe that the additions to the commissariat could not have been
adequate to the needs, as there was much suffering for want of proper
supplies.
When all was in readiness the expedition finally began the ascent of
the Mississippi. The flotilla was made up of batteaux and keel-boats,
the latter having been fitted up as comfortably as possible for the
women and children, and my father has told me that, notwithstanding
the inconveniences and annoyances of such a mode of traveling, the
hope that the change might benefit all, and the fact that they were
making the last stage of a very wearisome journey, inspired them with
fresh courage, and a general cheerfulness prevailed throughout the
command.
_CHAPTER II._
Of the difficulties and delays of that eventful journey up the
Mississippi, few at the present day can form a clear conception. The
keel-boats, similar in construction to a canal-boat, were propelled by
poles all that three hundred miles, in the following manner: Several
men stood on each side of the boat on what was called a running-board,
with their faces to the stern, and, placing their long poles on the
river bottom, braced them against their shoulders and pushed hard,
walking towards the stern. Then, detaching the poles, they walked back
to the bow, and repeated this operation hour after hour, being
relieved at intervals for rest.
The perfect safety of this mode of travel commends itself to those who
are in no hurry, and desire to learn all about the windings of the
river and the geological and floral attractions along its banks.
At night the boats were tied up, camp-fires were lighted, tents
pitched, sentinels posted and everything made ready, in case of an
irruption of Indians.
Arriving at Lake Pepin, a few days were spent on its beautiful shores,
resting, during which time the stores were overhauled and rearranged
and the boats regulated and put in perfect order. The sick were
growing stronger, and the little baby who was living on pap made of
musty flour and sweetened water, tied up in a rag, which did duty for
a patent nursing bottle, grew wonderfully, and bade fair to be a
marvel of size and strength.
Sometime in September the pioneer regiment arrived in pretty good
condition at--where? No fort, no settlement, no regular landing even;
simply at the mouth of the St. Peters river, where we had been ordered
to halt, and our long march was ended.
For many weeks the boats were our only shelter, and the sense of
entire isolation, the thought that the nearest white neighbors were
three hundred miles away, and that months must elapse before they
could hope to hear a syllable from _home_, proved, at times,
exceedingly depressing to these first settlers in Minnesota. I record,
with pleasure, what has been often told me, that in that trying time
the courage of the ladies of the party did not fail them, and that
their cheerful way of taking things as they came and making the best
of them, was a constant blessing and source of strength to that little
community.
Without loss of time a space was cleared very near the site of
Mendota, trees were cut down, a stockade built enclosing log houses
erected for the accommodation of the garrison; everything being made
as comfortable and secure as the facilities permitted. The Indians
proved friendly and peaceable, and the command entered upon their
life at "St. Peters," as it was first called, cheerfully and
hopefully. A few days after their arrival Colonel Leavenworth, Major
Vose, Surgeon Purcell, Mrs. Captain Gooding and my father made a
keel-boat trip to the "Falls of St. Anthony," and were amazed at the
beauty and grandeur of the scene.
A prediction at that time that some then living would see these mighty
falls turn the machinery of the greatest mills in the world, and a
great and beautiful city arise on the adjacent shores, would have been
called a visionary and impossible dream by those early visitors who
saw this amazing water power in its primeval glory.
That first winter of '19 and '20, like all winters in this latitude,
was very cold, with heavy snows and fierce winds, but there were many
sunshiny days, and there was little or no complaining.
The quarters, having been put up hastily, were not calculated to
resist the severe storms which at times raged with great violence.
Once during that memorable six months the roof of our cabin blew off,
and the walls seemed about to fall in. My father, sending my mother
and brother to a place of safety, held up the chimney to prevent a
total downfall; while the baby, who had been pushed under the bed in
her cradle, lay there, as "Sairey Gamp" would express it, "smiling
unbeknowns," until the wind subsided, when, upon being drawn out from
her hiding-place, she evinced great pleasure at the commotion, and
seemed to take it all as something designed especially for her
amusement.
By the prompt aid of a large number of soldiers the necessary repairs
were rapidly made, and soon all was comfortable as before. But late in
the winter, owing to the lack of proper food, scurvy broke out among
the soldiers, and forty of them died of this dreadful disease. Many
more were affected with it, and far removed as we were from all relief
in the way of change of diet or suitable remedies, it was a matter of
great uneasiness and alarm, as in the absence of necessary preventives
or restoratives medical skill availed nothing.
However, as soon as the frost was sufficiently out of the ground to
enable them to dig it, the Indians brought in quantities of the
spignot root, assuring the surgeon that would cure the sick. This
proved entirely efficacious. The scourge was removed, and after that
trial passed away the command was peculiarly exempt from sickness of
any kind.
As soon as possible gardens were made. Everything grew rapidly, and a
sufficient supply of vegetables was secured to prevent any recurrence
of the evil.
More permanent and comfortable quarters were built during the spring
at the beautiful spring on the fort side of the river, and named by
the officers "Camp Coldwater;" but before moving into the new camp
Colonel Leavenworth was relieved from the command by Colonel Josiah
Snelling, who, with his well-known energy and promptitude, immediately
began preparations for building the fort, the site of which had been
selected by Colonel Leavenworth. The saw-mill at "St. Anthony's
Falls," so long known and remembered as the "Old Government Mill," was
started as soon as practicable. Quarries were opened, and everything
was done to facilitate the work, Colonel Snelling proving himself well
fitted for the duty assigned him, and the spring of 1820 was a very
busy one for the old Fifth Regiment.
MRS. SNELLING'S LIFE.
Mrs. Abigal Hunt Snelling was born at Watertown, Mass., January 23d,
1797. Her father's name was Thomas Hunt, Colonel of the First Regiment
of Infantry, U. S. A., stationed then at Fort Wayne, Indiana, to which
place his little daughter was taken when only six weeks old. The
journey was performed on horseback, and the little baby was carried on
a pillow, a long, rough trip for so young a traveler, and clearly
indicative of her subsequent experience. She tells in her old age of a
coincidence in her life which impressed her forcibly. Her father died
and was buried at Bellefontaine, Ohio, and some years afterward
Colonel Snelling was at this place with his family waiting orders,
when their youngest child, an infant, named Thomas Hunt, sickened and
died, and was buried by the side of his grandfather. An incident in
her eventful life well worthy of mention in a record of the early
days of our State is that she gave birth to the first white child born
in Minnesota sixty-six years ago, and at the advanced age of ninety
years she is alive to tell of it. Her ninetieth birthday was
celebrated a few months ago in Newport, Kentucky, where, with the
husband and children of a beloved daughter, who died some years ago,
she is "only waiting till the shadows are a little longer grown."
She has been blind for many years, but otherwise her faculties are
unimpaired and her health is excellent. I should like to have seen my
old friend on that occasion, but could only send a congratulatory
letter, recalling the memories of old Fort Snelling, with which she
and I am so thoroughly identified. I am told she looked very lovely,
and was much gratified at the pleasant surprise her friends had
prepared for her, but was somewhat excited, and was carefully watched
by her granddaughter, Miss Abby Hazard, who takes the most tender care
of her precious grandmother.
It is somewhat remarkable that just about that time I learned through
Hon. Fletcher Williams, who has a special gift for finding
antiquities, that an old lady who had been a member of Mrs. Snelling's
family at the fort was visiting her grandchildren at West St. Paul. I
lost no time in calling on her, and found that she was one of the
Swiss refugees who came to Fort Snelling from the Red River country.
Her maiden name was Schadiker. She had married Sergeant Adams, of the
Ordnance Department, whom I remembered well as a most faithful and
highly respected man. After serving in the army many years at
different posts, he resigned and took up land not far from Chicago,
near which city he made a home and lived a long while very happily,
dying only a year or two ago at a very advanced age. Mrs. Adams and I
had a most enjoyable visit together. She is in very comfortable
circumstances, and bears her age so bravely that it is hard to realize
that she is seventy-seven years old. She told me, among other things,
of a voyage Colonel Snelling and family made up the Mississippi,
returning from a visit to the East. The weather was very rough, and at
Lake Pepin, their boat having been wrecked, of course their provisions
and many things were lost. With what was left of the craft they hugged
the shore, and the crew made every effort to go forward, but, in their
dismantled condition and with little or nothing to eat, it was very
discouraging work. She tells me that in this extremity the men caught
hold of the branches of trees which hung over the water and propelled
the boat forward by inches, and Mrs. Snelling said to her: "Hannah,
let us take hold of the willows, too, and pull. We may help, if it is
ever so little," and they did so, pulling with all their might. She
says she shall never forget their arrival at the fort at last. My
father was in temporary command, and, learning in some way of their
approach, sent help to them. He had had the fort illuminated and a
Colonel's salute fired in honor of the return, and finally the weary
ones reached the old headquarters, where my mother had provided for
them a bountiful repast, and where they received so hearty a welcome
that they soon forgot their weariness and the hardships and perils
through which they had passed.
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