In Company B were enrolled the following: Jesse Addington, D. H. Baker, Hiram Benjamin, Orlando Bice, R. F. Carter, Richard Carter, Michael Cavanaugh, A. E. Crouse, John Hefley, Orlando C. Howe, D. F. Howell, Albert S. Johnson, Michael McCarty, G. F. McClure, Robert McCormick, John N. McFarland, A. S. Malcolm, Daniel Morrissey, Jonas Murray, Daniel Okeson, John O’Laughlin, W. Searles, Guernsey Smith, Reuben Whetstone, John White, Washington Williams, and William R. Wilson.[224]
These companies when organized were equipped in the same manner as at Webster City—that is, by contributions from those older men who, finding age a bar to joining the expedition, contributed whatever they found possible “near the end of a severe winter in a frontier town one hundred and fifty miles from any source of supply.”[225] Scarcely was there a man or woman in the little hamlet or in the surrounding country who did not offer something—guns, ammunition, food, gloves, wearing apparel, blankets, or other articles that might prove useful on the journey. The equipment of arms varied from the worst conditioned shotgun to some of the finest type of Sharps rifle to be found on the frontier.[226] All of Monday, after the muster in, was spent in collecting the equipment for the expedition. After some little effort two or three ox teams and wagons were secured to haul the food supplies, bedding, and camp equipment. A team and wagon was allotted to each company, so that all supplies for each organization might be kept separate and distinct. The imperfect means of transportation permitted the taking of only limited supplies; and no grain or forage could be taken upon which the oxen might subsist. It was thought, strangely enough, that the cattle might be able to forage for themselves at the various camping or stopping places along the route.
After the companies had been organized as separate units and the Webster City contingent had arrived, a closer coördination of the forces was effected. A general meeting of the three organizations was called and the matter of coördination discussed. In the end it was decided to organize as a battalion. Major William Williams, the only person who had had military experience and who had been empowered by Governor Grimes to act in such an emergency, was chosen to command the battalion thus created. This was a recognition of the undoubted ability and vigor of the first postmaster, first mayor, and first citizen of Fort Dodge—especially since his age of sixty years was far beyond that considered desirable for members of the expedition.[227] The future proved the wisdom of the selection, for his command of the situation had much to do with shaping the later developments more fortunately than otherwise might have been the case. George B. Sherman was selected as quartermaster and commissary; and in order to enable him to better perform his duties he was detached from Company A into which he had already been mustered. Dr. George R. Bissell of Fort Dodge was selected as surgeon, and he proved a most worthy and helpful member of the expedition. Thus organized, the battalion numbered at the time of leaving Fort Dodge a total of ninety-one officers and enlisted men.
Though somewhat delayed by inability to secure transportation, the relief battalion from Fort Dodge and Webster City got under way about noon on Tuesday, March twenty-fourth, within four days after receiving the news of the massacre.[228] The first day’s march did not record much progress, as the men had advanced only about six or seven miles when they encamped at the mouth of Beaver Creek. By this time they had begun to realize that they were no more than raw recruits with no knowledge or appreciation of active service. With snow nearly four feet deep on the level, and with ravines, gulches, and low places completely filled, they encountered from the beginning almost endless difficulties in marching and in the transportation of supplies. Not a man was intimately acquainted with the surrounding country. Frequently they found themselves plunged into snow-filled creek beds where with the oxen they floundered vainly for some time in more than fifteen or twenty feet of drifted snow before they gained the lesser depth beyond. The difficulties were greatly increased by the lack of sufficient transportation facilities.
Having halted for the night each company built a monster camp fire around which the men gathered, each endeavoring to prepare his own supper since neither company was provided with a cook. “It was quite amusing to see ‘the boys’ mix up meal, bake ‘slap jacks’, fry meat, wash dishes and act the ‘housewife’ generally, but ’tis said ‘practice makes perfect’ and the truth of the adage was substantiated in the case under consideration for before our return some of the boys became quite expert in the handicraft above mentioned.
“One of our Lieutenants—a jolly good fellow, by the way—averred that he could throw a ‘griddle-cake’ out of the roof of a log cabin, which he temporarily occupied, and while it performed divers circumgyrations in mid-air, could run out and catch it ‘t’other side up’ on the spider.”[229] Emery W. Gates of Company C is said to have successfully demonstrated his ability to perform this feat while the expedition was in camp at McKnight’s Point.[230] He was later appointed cook of his company, in which capacity he rendered most acceptable service.
After finishing their first meal the men made ready for the night. Each man had been provided with one blanket, and in this he rolled himself for sleep that came to but few. Many found the pillowing of the head upon the ground or snow not conducive to slumber, while a few were prevented from sleeping by the heavy slumber of others. “My first night on this expedition”, says Captain Duncombe, “will never pass from my memory. It is as vivid now as it was at the time. I, too, slept on a snowbank and had as my next neighbor one of those horrible snorers who could make a danger signal louder than a locomotive whistle and more musical than a calliope in the procession of a circus.”[231]
The morning of the twenty-fifth saw the men awake and astir early in the preparation of a breakfast that failed to satisfy. On this second day the line of march led them up the course of the Des Moines—the plan being to travel upon the ice of the river in order to avoid the dangerous pitfalls of the land. The point which they hoped to reach was Dakota City just above the junction of the east and west forks of the Des Moines. In attempting to use the ice as a roadway, the men were compelled to cross and recross the river no less than fifteen or twenty times. In the end this plan of march proved impracticable since the ice in places was not strong enough to sustain the weight of the men; whenever a weak place was reached it was necessary to leave the river and struggle along over the ravines which broke the banks of the river.
Matters became much worse as the day developed into one of considerable warmth. The water running down from the hillsides collected in the depressions and turned the snow of the ravines into slush. With dazzling brilliancy the sun shone upon the white snow, and many of the men suffered so severely from snow-blindness as to become practically helpless. The rays reflected from the snow also burned the hands and faces of the men.[232] By night the battalion had covered no more than the ten miles to Dakota City. Here they camped as best they could. Some were able to secure places in stables, and a few were taken into the homes; but by far the greater number were compelled to sleep in their blankets on the open prairie. By this time some of the men were showing evidence of exhaustion, while others were suffering a very marked decline in spirits.
On the march north from Dakota City the real difficulties of the expedition developed. Beyond this point the snow was piled so high that frequently the groves and timber along the river could not be reached. When such conditions were encountered the command was compelled to keep to the open prairie. This was not, however, practicable for any considerable time on account of the cutting wind that swept across the snow fields. Having to choose between two evils, they elected what appeared to be the lesser and kept within the shelter of the timber regardless of the difficulties.
To overcome the difficulties on the third day out from Fort Dodge and the first day north of Dakota City, it was found necessary to send the men ahead in double files to break a road for the ox teams and wagons which followed. By marching and counter-marching the snow was beaten down so that it was made possible for the oxen to drag the wagons through the deep drifts. This did not, however, always solve the transportation problem, for even with such help the oxen were frequently unable to move the wagons. When the oxen became stalled in a snow bank a long rope was attached to the wagon so that all hands could take hold and pull together with the oxen. By almost herculean efforts the wagons were thus dragged through the drifts of snow. Often the snow would accumulate in great piles in front of the wagons, which caused many pauses in the march. The marching and counter-marching, the dragging of wagons by man power, and the clearing away of snow continued during the two days out from Dakota City. Under such conditions the advance of the command was painfully slow.
But the drifts were not the worst obstacle. When ravines or stream heads were encountered in the line of march the oxen could do little but flounder in the snow which was then four or five times as deep as on the level ground of the prairie. They could scarcely secure a footing, for here the soft snow had usually been converted into almost bottomless slush. At such times the men would “wade through, stack arms, return and unhitch the teams, and attach ropes to them and draw them through”; this done, they “performed a similar operation on the wagons”.[233] It was necessary to resort to this method of advance every mile or two.
In the face of such conditions, it became very evident that the timber at McKnight’s Point could not be reached on scheduled time.[234] When the companies came to appreciate more fully the difficulties before them, Captain Duncombe, Lieutenant Maxwell, and R. U. Wheelock were sent ahead as scouts to pick out a better road and if possible secure a camping place near timber and water.[235] To guide the advancing column, beacon fires were built; but these were of little or no use to the men in the rear. The main body of marchers, wet, hungry, and suffering acutely from the cold, toiled on until darkness made further progress seem an impossibility. Major Williams therefore called a halt and “put it to a vote whether we should camp where we were, or still persist in getting to the Point. A majority voted to camp where we were, although several preferred to keep on, fearing we would freeze to death anyway, and that it was as well to keep moving. We were on the bleak prairie.... We had no tents to shelter us; so, to many the outlook was extremely forbidding, but all acquiesced in the will of the majority.”[236]
The place selected for the camp was a high ridge from which the snow had been blown by the winter’s winds. Each company went into its own camp. The tarpaulin covers for the wagons were removed and stretched around the wagons so as to form a shelter from the wind. Upon the ground under the wagons the men placed their oil-skin coats to serve as a floor upon which to pile the bedding. Wet boots were used for pillows. Then, huddled closely together under the wagons so that when one turned all had to do likewise, the weary volunteers “turned in” for the night. Being some distance from the timber they could obtain no wood with which to kindle fires—without which the men were unable to warm themselves, dry their clothing, or cook their food. For supper they had nothing to eat save crackers and uncooked ham; and the same diet made up the breakfast on the following morning.[237]
Early Friday morning the companies continued the march toward McKnight’s Point, where they arrived about noon. Here they found Duncombe, Wheelock, and Maxwell awaiting them. In nearly two days the battalion had covered a distance of something over twelve miles from Dakota City to McKnight’s Point. Even at this slow rate of progress they arrived in a thoroughly exhausted condition.
Captain Duncombe had reached the Point the evening before in a very benumbed condition and nearly unconscious from the exposure and suffering occasioned by the intensity of the cold. In explaining his condition, however, a story was later told by a member of the expedition to the effect that as the Point was neared by the three scouts Duncombe became exhausted and appeared to be unable to proceed. Wheelock had with him what was thought to be a cordial, some of which he offered to the Captain. The “cordial” proved to be laudanum, which so affected Duncombe that had it not been for Wheelock and Maxwell, who kept him awake and moving, he would have been overcome. When within two miles of the Point, Maxwell started for help. Too exhausted to walk, he lay down on the snow and rolled himself over and over till he reached the grove; while Wheelock remained with Duncombe to keep him awake and moving. At the grove Maxwell found a cabin in which were Jeremiah Evans and William L. Church. Hearing Maxwell’s story, they at once set out to rescue Duncombe and Wheelock. In rolling over and over in the snow Maxwell had made a trail which the rescuers had no trouble in following to the suffering men. After being dragged to the cabin, Duncombe fell asleep and could not be aroused. But by the time the expedition arrived on the following day he had awakened and appeared to be little or none the worse for his unusual experience.[238]
By Saturday a number of the men were ill from exposure, but uncomplainingly continued the trying march. Major Williams, although the oldest man of the expeditionary force, bore his privations extremely well, giving no evidence of exhaustion. If anything the trials of the march had aroused in him a still stronger and sterner fighting spirit. Some of the force, apparently bearing the trials well, were reported as complaining. One of these men is said to have been a veteran of the Mexican War and often made the boast that he had been the third soldier to enter the Mexican fortress of Churubusco when it was stormed and taken by the American forces. But now he declared the continuance of the march “would result in the destruction of the entire command”.[239]
Calling a meeting of the battalion, Major Williams addressed the men upon the duties and obligations of the expedition, and he ended by declaring: “You now understand this is not to be a holiday campaign, and every man in the battalion who feels that he has gone far enough is at liberty to return.”[240] No one was willing to accept the offer. It appears, however, that Daniel Okeson and John O’Laughlin, who had been accepted under protest on account of their age, were now discharged from Company B on account of disabilities incident to their years. Under protest they accepted discharge and returned to Fort Dodge.
The battalion’s ranks, however, were not depleted by these dismissals, as Jeremiah Evans and William L. Church at once enlisted—the former in Company B and the latter in Company C.[241] Evans had been a settler at McKnight’s Point for some time, and it was at his cabin that the advance scouts were received and cared for. Church, whose home was at Springfield, Minnesota, had been on a trip to Fort Dodge for supplies and had stopped at the Evans cabin on his return up the river on the Fort Ridgely trail. Upon his arrival he had been told of the massacre at the lakes and also that a relief expedition was being organized at Fort Dodge to rescue the whites who might have escaped and to punish the Indians who had done the deed. Upon hearing this he had resolved to await the coming of the expedition and enlist for service.
At McKnight’s Point a halt of a half-day on Friday afternoon was taken for purposes of recuperation. Here a number of deserted cabins furnished shelter for the men. It was at this halt that Company C selected Emery W. Gates as cook. Following his appointment it is said that Gates prepared for the men one of the best meals they had ever eaten; and they agreed that their stay here was one “grand, good time”.[242]
Company A also celebrated, but in an entirely different manner. To divert the minds of those who were suffering from the hardships of the march, Captain Richards decided to hold a mock court-martial. The victim, a man by the name of Brizee, was of course unaware of the fake character of the affair and took the proceeding with great seriousness. It seems that the tar box of Company A’s wagon had been lost, and for this Brizee was held responsible. The formal trial procedure—the organization of the court, the summoning of witnesses, the taking of testimony, and the rendering of a formal decision—was carried through and Brizee was declared guilty. In all solemnity he was sentenced to be shot. It is said that he was very much frightened and most earnestly implored a pardon which was finally granted.[243]
On the morning of Saturday, the twenty-eighth, the three companies bade goodbye to McKnight’s Point and started for Shippey’s Point, which was located on the west fork of Cylinder Creek about two miles above the junction of the main stream with the Des Moines. Since leaving Dakota City the expedition had followed as nearly as possible the Fort Ridgely road up the Des Moines Valley—a route which it was planned to continue as far as practicable. At McCormick’s place about two miles below Shippey’s, they met Angus McBane, Cyrus C. Carpenter, William P. Pollock, and Andrew Hood, who had heard of the massacre at the Irish Colony and were hastening south to Fort Dodge to report.[244] These men at once joined Company A.
It was at Shippey’s Point that J. M. Thatcher and Asa Burtch were found anxiously awaiting the coming of the battalion. Thatcher was nearly frantic over the reported fate of his family, but had been induced by Burtch to await the coming of the relief party—in Company B of which the two men now enlisted.[245] The load of supplies—mostly flour, which Luce and Thatcher had been taking to the lakes from the eastern part of the state—was confiscated for the use of the battalion as the supplies of the party were growing uncomfortably low and Sherman, the commissary, was becoming nervous.
On Sunday morning the onward march was resumed with the Irish settlement on Medium Lake as the objective point for the day. As the expedition moved further to the north, the difficulties of the march became greater because the snow increased in depth. From Shippey’s Point the march followed the Dragoon Trail, although no team had been able to make its way over this road for weeks. To the tired men the drifts seemed mountain high, while the depth of the snow in the low places seemed fathomless. The “colony” was finally reached without incident.
The settlement at Medium Lake comprised about twelve or fifteen Irish families who had come from Illinois in the fall of 1856. They had selected claims along the Des Moines River, but had made no permanent improvements. Instead, they had built temporary cabins in a grove at the southwest corner of Medium Lake where they planned to spend the winter.[246] In time this temporary settlement developed into the town of Emmetsburg, which to the present day has retained a large percentage of people of Irish nativity. Here also were many people who had fled from the perils of an Indian attack and had come together for the winter. They were found living in rudely constructed cabin shelters or in dugouts.[247] Destitute of provisions, they were as far as possible being supported from the slender stores of their Irish neighbors upon whose pity they had thrown themselves.
While here the expeditionary force was augmented by new recruits: thereafter it comprised one hundred and twenty-five men. Since most of these persons did not formally enlist their names do not appear upon the official muster roll of the battalion. Not only did the companies receive recruits at Medium Lake, but it was here that they were able to exchange their worn out oxen for fresh teams. They were also able to replenish somewhat their commissary department, for the new members brought with them as much food as the settlement was able to spare.
On Monday morning the expedition set out very much refreshed; for the men had not only feasted the evening before but that morning they “butchered a cow that had been wintered on prairie hay. The beef was not exactly porterhouse steak, but it was food for hungry men.”[248] The day’s march was a hard one, and when Big Island Grove near the Mud Lakes was reached the men were so exhausted that they threw themselves on the ground, rolled up in their blankets, and went to sleep without supper.
Ex-Governor Carpenter, in relating his experiences as a member of the expedition, says that there was after the lapse of forty-one years a picture before him “of Capt. Charles B. Richards and Lieutenant F. A. Stratton ... with two or three of the men, cutting wood, punching the fire, and baking pancakes, until long after midnight; and as they would get enough baked for a meal they would waken some tired and hungry man and give him his supper: and the exercises in Company A were but a sample of what was in progress in each of the companies.”[249] Thus the greater portion of the night was spent by the solicitous officers in caring for their men.
After leaving Medium Lake evidences of the presence of Indians were observed from time to time. What appeared to be moccasin tracks were frequently seen. Cattle had been killed in such a manner as to leave no doubt that the work had been done by Indians. At Big Island Grove many signs of Indians were found. On an island in the middle of the lake the Indians had constructed a look-out in the tree-tops from which they were able to see the country for miles around. Better evidence still of the fact that their visits were recent was the report that the campfires were still glowing, and that fishing holes were found in the ice.[250]
Many members of the expedition believed that the Indians, after raiding the settlements at the lake, would cross over to the Des Moines and proceed south on a war of extermination; and the signs at Big Island Grove were very readily accepted as a substantiation of this belief. It is probable, however, that this was a mistaken conclusion. Sleepy-Eye had frequently rendezvoused at Big Island Grove, and the arrival of the expedition may have followed closely his departure on the spring hunting trip. It is not probable that Inkpaduta’s men went east of the lakes or south of Springfield.
On the evening of the arrival of the expedition at Big Island Grove, Major Williams decided that since they were evidently in the Indian country the march should thereafter be made with more caution. Accordingly, he called for volunteers for an advance scouting party of ten men whose work would be to precede the main expeditionary force and keep a sharp look-out for the near approach of Indians and to observe, interpret, and report any signs that might be discovered. They were to maintain an advance of perhaps three miles over the main column. Major Williams selected as the commander of this advance guard William L. Church, who of all the members of the expedition was the most familiar with the country in which they were now moving, since he had passed through it a number of times after settling at Springfield. Those who had volunteered as his companions were Lieutenant Maxwell, Thatcher, Hathaway, F. R. Mason, Laughlin, A. S. Johnson, De Foe, Carpenter, and another man whose identity seems to have been forgotten shortly after the return of the expedition to Fort Dodge.[251]
The members of the advance guard were astir early Tuesday morning; and while they breakfasted, rations for three days were made ready for each man. These rations when totalled amounted to forty pounds of corn meal and twenty pounds of wheat flour. In addition the men were allowed each a piece of corn bread about six inches square, which was supposed to be divided among the meals of the succeeding three days; but a number of the men, deciding that the easiest way to carry the bread was to eat it, immediately set about doing that very thing. The scouting party left the main body of the expedition about six o’clock on a beautiful winter’s morning—although it was in fact the closing day of March. Orders were given to the men to scout north, northwest, and northeast of the route to be followed by the main body. Lieutenant Maxwell and Laughlin, being true plainsmen, took the lead, while the remaining eight were soon envying “the ease and celerity with which” they “with their long legs and wiry frames, pulled through the snow and across the snow-drifts”.[252]
The advance had made about twelve miles when the men paused on the bare ridge of the Des Moines water-shed for the mid-day meal. Mason was stationed as sentry, while the others ate in the sheltered lea of the ridge. At some distance from the other members of the party, Mason had been at his post only a short time when he saw far to the northwest a black spot come into view. It soon became evident that the spot was moving. The attention of the other members of the party was called to the discovery. After sighting with their ramrods for some minutes, they too concluded that the object was really on the move. Furthermore it was agreed that the moving object must be a party of Indians; and so an attack was planned.
The squad advanced on the run to meet the party, which was probably two miles away. But no sooner had the whites started toward the “Indians” than the latter were observed to hold a hurried consultation. Between the two parties was a willow-bordered creek toward which each started for the apparent purpose of ambushing the other. The advance guard, having reached and passed the creek first, scaled the knoll or ridge of ground just beyond. Having reached the crest of the swell, the expeditionists prepared to fight. The opposing force halted and likewise seemed to prepare for defense. Before beginning the attack, however, the arrival of Church and a second man was awaited. When these men had come up, breathless but ready for the fray, the order to advance was given. Suddenly Church gave a shout and sprang forward exclaiming: “My God, there’s my wife and babies!” The “Indians” turned out to be none other than the refugees from Springfield, Minnesota. The meeting was both dramatic and pathetic. For days relatives and friends of the refugees had believed them dead—victims of Indian barbarities. Now some were reunited with their loved ones, while others received word that their kin were lying in the snows of the lake region or had been carried away in captivity by the Indians.[253]
A pathetic sight, indeed, were these terrified fugitives. “In the haste of their flight they had taken but few provisions and scanty clothing. The women had worn out their shoes; their dresses were worn into fringe about the ankles; the children were crying with hunger and cold; the wounded were in a deplorable condition for want of surgical aid. Their food was entirely exhausted; they had no means of making fire; their blankets and clothing were wet and frozen.... The refugees were so overcome ... that they sank down in the snow, crying and laughing alternately, as their deliverers gathered around them.”[254] The wounded were in a terrible condition. “Mr. Thomas was traveling with his hand dangling by the cords of his arm, having been shot through the wrist.”[255] They were “almost exhausted from the toilsome march, lack of food, exposure to the inclement weather, and the terrible anxiety of the previous week.”[256]
From the story of the refugees it seems that while painfully making their way southward, and almost ready to perish from cold, starvation, and physical exhaustion, they saw appear upon the summit of a ridge far to the southeastward a group of men whom they, too, supposed to be Indians. It happened that the men of the advance guard were wearing shawls as a protection from the cold, and so they really did have the appearance of blanket-clad Indians. The refugees were wild with terror for they felt that their end had certainly come. There was only one man in the party who really had the courage and was able to fight. Loading the eight rifles which were in the possession of the party, John Bradshaw prepared to meet the enemy single-handed, ready to sacrifice his life if necessary in the defense of the helpless members of the party. It is said that he stood rifle in hand until Church, breaking from the ranks of the advance guard, ran forward shouting for his wife and children. Not until then was it evident to the refugees that friends rather than enemies were approaching.[257]
Mason and Smith were chosen to carry the news back to the main body of the expedition, which at this time was nearly eight miles to the rear. Mason declares that he was so excited that notwithstanding his fatigue he ran the whole distance. When the messengers were within two miles of the expedition their coming was observed by Captains Duncombe and Richards who rode out to meet them. Major Williams was sent for and a consultation held. Mason, Duncombe, Richards, and Dr. Bissell were ordered by Major Williams to push forward as rapidly as possible to the aid of the refugees. At four o’clock in the afternoon the start was made, and so well did the men make the return trip that the fugitives from Springfield were reached about nine o’clock. The advance guard and the fugitives were found in the shelter of the creek willows over a mile from where they had been left. Camp had been pitched—if such it could be called. Meanwhile, a storm had come up and it was raining furiously, which only increased the sad plight of the starving and ragged refugees who were without adequate shelter.[258]
When the main expeditionary body arrived about midnight strenuous efforts were made to provide some sort of comfort for the distressed and starving fugitives. The only semblance to a tent in the expedition’s equipment—one made of blankets patched together—was provided them, and their wounds were dressed by Dr. Bissell. Being so near the scene of the massacre, it was feared that even then Indians might be in the vicinity of the camp. And so guards were placed to prevent a surprise attack. Since the men were greatly exhausted by the day’s efforts, they were relieved of guard duty each hour. Thus little rest came to any of the men that night. In the morning the refugees were again fed and provided with blankets by the expeditionary force from its already slender store. Being thus outfitted, they were given a guard and sent on to the Irish Colony. Mr. Church left the expedition at this point to accompany his wife and children to Fort Dodge and Webster City.
Learning from the fugitives the facts concerning the presence of the Indians at Springfield, Major Williams decided to push toward that point as rapidly as possible. When the march was resumed on the morning following the meeting with the refugees from Springfield, the expedition moved in the direction of Granger’s Point. John Bradshaw, Morris Markham, and Jareb Palmer did not continue with the refugees, but enlisted as members of the expeditionary force, each hoping for a chance to even up matters with the red men.
The march to the Granger settlement was enlivened by a little incident that aided much in detracting from the trying ordeal of the march. In the morning additional precautions were taken to guard against a surprise by Indians: a small group of men were selected by Major Williams to scout just ahead of the main body and ascertain if Indians might chance to be in the timber along the streams and about the lakes. The scouts were given orders to fire their guns only in case they found Indians. The advance had continued about three miles when the crack of a gun was heard, followed by a number of reports in quick succession from the timber just ahead. Immediately two men emerged from the timber on the run. Captain Duncombe who was about a mile in advance of his command thought the runners to be Indians, and he at once gave chase hoping to head them off before they could enter another grove a short distance beyond and for which they were evidently making. Being mounted, Duncombe soon approached near enough to recognize two of the expedition scouts.
It was soon learned that while passing through the timber two old hunter members of the squad chanced to see some beavers sunning themselves on the ice. Unable to resist the first impulse, they emptied the contents of their guns at the unsuspecting animals. The men seen running out of the timber were only chasing some of the animals that had not been killed by the initial volley. Meanwhile, the whole expeditionary force had been halted, and with loaded guns put in readiness for the attack. Some members, unable to control themselves, did not wait for the command, but broke ranks and ran toward the imagined Indians with guns ready for firing. After some little time the expedition was again restored to a state of order and the march resumed.
Upon reaching Granger’s Point that evening, they were very inhospitably received by a man and boy who were occupying the cabin. Little information and absolutely no assistance could be secured from them. They reported that they had no food, withdrew into the cabin, and barred the door. Within a brief time, however, a horseman arrived, who proved to be a United States regular from Captain Bee’s command which had but lately arrived at Springfield. He brought the information of Bee’s arrival, of the flight of the Indians westward, and of Bee’s sending a detail to Spirit Lake to bury the dead. He said, however, that the detail had visited only one cabin on Spirit Lake and had there found one body which they buried. They had made no attempt to reach the lower lakes on account of bad weather and roads and the shortage of provisions.
That night Major Williams called a council, and upon a review of the facts it was decided to abandon the chase. But since the bodies of the massacred were yet unburied, it was thought that a detail of volunteers should proceed to the lakes on that mission.[259]
When morning came the conclusions of the council were reported to the command, and volunteers, not over twenty-five in number, were called for to serve on the burial detail. The report met with a most cordial response and the full quota of volunteers was obtained at once. Those who signified their willingness to serve were: Captain J. C. Johnson and Captain Charles B. Richards, Lieutenant John N. Maxwell, and privates Henry Carse, William E. Burkholder, William Ford, H. E. Dalley, Orlando C. Howe, George P. Smith, Owen S. Spencer, Carl Stebbins, Silas Van Cleave, R. U. Wheelock, R. A. Smith, William A. De Foe, B. F. Parmenter, Jesse Addington, R. McCormick, J. M. Thatcher, William R. Wilson, William K. Laughlin, Elias D. Kellogg, and another whose name is not known.[260]
These men were placed by Major Williams under the immediate command of Captain Johnson of Company C; and on the morning of April second the detail, supplied with two days’ rations, took up its march for the lakes. From the outset their undertaking was precarious; with limited rations the men had no assurance that they would be able to secure any more supplies. Nevertheless, they courageously undertook the humanitarian task with the hope that somehow the future would care for itself.
The burial detail was to proceed to the lakes, perform the sad task of burying the dead, and rejoin the main command at the Irish settlement on Medium Lake. Accompanied by two mounted men—Captain Richards and another whose name is now lost—the detail set out upon its journey; but at the crossing of the Des Moines, the first stream reached, the horsemen were unable to force a passage. The men crossed safely on a log; but the horses could not be forced to swim the channel, and after an hour’s work Captain Richards, and his companion gave up the effort and returned to the main command.[261]
Without incident the members of the party reached the southeastern shore of the east lake about two o’clock in the afternoon. Making their way to the Noble and Thatcher cabin, they found the bodies of Enoch Ryan and Alvin Noble at the rear of the house. Each body had been riddled with bullets. The yard and adjacent prairie were thickly sprinkled with feathers which had come from the destroyed feather ticks for which the Indians had had no use. The bodies were buried at the foot of a large oak tree near the house. While some of the party were interring the dead at this cabin, others walked on to the Howe cabin where seven bodies were found lying about the cabin doorstep. Among the mangled remains found in the yard Thatcher identified his infant child. The burials at the Howe cabin were completed late in the afternoon; but darkness prevented the men from proceeding to the other cabins. Returning to the Thatcher cabin they there planned to pass the night. The body of the Thatcher child was interred near the head of a ravine not far from the Thatcher cabin. This was in keeping with the desire of the father that his child should be buried upon his own property. Returning to the Howe cabin the following morning, they found the body of a boy of about thirteen years of age lying at the side of a fallen tree in the dooryard. This apparently was Jacob, the brother of Mrs. Noble, whom she vainly tried to get into the house. The burial detail reported the interment of eight bodies at the Howe cabin.
From Howe’s cabin they proceeded to the settlements on the west lake. At this juncture the party was divided, and one section under Captain Johnson took the lake shore trail, while a second under Lieutenant Maxwell crossed the lake directly in line with the Mattock cabin. The Johnson party is said to have found the body of Joel Howe near the trail and to have buried it near the spot where it was found—a place which was lost sight of until its alleged discovery in August, 1914, by a young man, Lee Goodenough of Knoxville, Iowa, while attending a Young Men’s Christian Association camp.[262] At the Mattock cabin the dead were found widely scattered through the clearing and along the trail toward the Granger home across the strait. Every evidence of a desperate resistance was noted. Dr. Harriott was found with his broken rifle still grasped in his hand. Eleven bodies were collected and buried at this place.
Across the strait at the Granger cabin they found the body of Carl Granger horribly mutilated, as by cutting or slashing with some sharp instrument about the face. Near him lay his dog which had evidently remained faithfully by him to the last. The dog’s body was also terribly mangled.
The Gardner home was the last place to be visited. Here six bodies were found and buried about fifty yards to the southeast of the cabin on a spot said to have been designated by Eliza Gardner when she met the rescue party. As yet the bodies of Luce and Clark had not been found; indeed they were not found until the following June when they were discovered near the outlet of the east lake. Their burial place is not known.[263]
By the time the work of interment was completed at the Gardner cabin, it was late in the afternoon. The rations of the party were all but gone; but the night was coming on, and so the party decided to remain and camp to the north of the Gardner cabin. Fortunately Wilson’s memory came to the rescue of the party in their stress for food: he now recalled that in the fall when a visitor at the Gardner cabin he had seen Gardner bury a box of potatoes beneath the stove to insure them against being frozen during the winter. Upon investigation there was discovered nearly a bushel of the potatoes which satisfied the hunger of the men that evening and on the following morning.
After this potato breakfast on the morning of April fourth, sixteen of the twenty-three men composing the detail began the return trip; while seven of the party having interests to look after at the lakes, decided to remain a few days longer. Those who decided to remain were R. A. Smith, Orlando C. Howe, R. U. Wheelock, B. F. Parmenter, Asa Burtch, J. M. Thatcher, and William R. Wilson. Howe and Wheelock remained to make sure of their load of supplies which Parmenter had been compelled to abandon when his two companions started ahead of him to Fort Dodge with the news of the massacre.[264]
It appears, however, that the split in the party is to be attributed to something besides business demands. There was a disagreement over the best route to be taken on the return trip. While breakfasting that morning the discussion had arisen. The majority favored as direct a route as possible across the open prairie to the Irish Colony. Others of the party did not consider such a route to be safe, arguing that it would be better to retrace the route by which they had come—which route would lead them to Granger’s Point and thence to the Irish Colony. Meanwhile, a storm was gathering which seemed to add force to the arguments of those in favor of a known road.
The matter could not be settled by argument; and so, after breakfast Captain Johnson, gave the command to fall in. “After the men had fallen in he gave the further order, ‘All who favor starting at once across the prairie, step three paces to the front; the rest stand fast’.... What little provision was left in camp was speedily packed and the party made ready to depart at once.”[265] Captain Johnson and Burkholder urged united action upon the seven who stood fast; but the appeal was unavailing, for the seven men remained steadfast in their conviction that the course as planned was wrong. They offered to join the party if they would take the Granger route; but Johnson and Burkholder stood as firmly against that proposition as the seven were opposed to their plans. Thus the two groups parted company—good friends but each firmly convinced that the other was in the wrong. The members of the party that left took all the food, and were allowed to do so because those who remained behind counted upon securing their store from the wagonload of supplies which had been left somewhere out on the prairie.
The men who remained set out at once to locate the wagon and bring in the needed food. It appears that there was no difficulty in finding the wagon with its cargo of supplies. When each man had loaded himself with a supply, they returned as rapidly as possible for the gathering storm had broken and snow was falling heavily. In a short time, it became a blinding, driving whirlwind of snow. Reaching the cabin, they laid in a supply of fuel. Being well armed, they felt no alarm at the prospect of an Indian attack. All that could be done while the storm raged was to await patiently its abatement. Only after two days did the fury of the storm abate sufficiently to permit the men to leave the cabin in safety.
The morning of the second day after the beginning of the blizzard dawned clear and intensely cold, although the weather had moderated somewhat since the previous evening. The snow was frozen with a hard crust and upon it the party from the Gardner cabin made their way rapidly in the direction of Granger’s Point. When they arrived at the Des Moines they found the river completely frozen, which made the crossing easy. Thus with little trouble they were again at Granger’s Point where they had left the main body five days previously. They now procured a team and wagon, loaded their baggage, and, after resting a day, started for the Irish settlement. At this point they found some of the wounded from the Springfield settlement who had not been able to proceed with the main command. Here also was Henry Carse who, as will be seen, suffered so terribly on the night out from the Gardner cabin. Resting a day at the Irish settlement, they resumed their journey to Fort Dodge. What had been a small party on leaving the Gardner cabin had more than doubled in number when the Irish colonists were bidden goodbye.
When Cylinder Creek was reached the party succeeded through great effort in effecting a crossing. The undertaking required the whole of an afternoon, but by nightfall the men succeeded in reaching Shippey’s Point two miles beyond. “From here the party proceeded on their way to Fort Dodge, which they reached without further adventures than such as are incident to swimming swollen streams and living on short rations, which, in some instances, consisted of a handful of flour and a little salt, which they mixed up with water and baked over a campfire. A few of the party shot, dressed and broiled some muskrats and tried to make the rest believe they considered them good eating, but that diet did not become popular.”[266]
The early part of the day upon which Captain Johnson and party left the Gardner cabin, after the disagreement of the morning, was quite warm, and the rapidly melting snow added greatly to the difficulties of traveling. Being forced to wade through sloughs several feet deep in slush the men were soon wet to the shoulders. But they plodded on cheerfully for they were on the way home after the completion of an arduous duty. While they were in this cheery frame of mind, the blizzard broke upon them in all its fury about four in the afternoon. With the storm came a rapid fall in temperature, and it was not long before the clothes of the members of the party were frozen stiff from feet to shoulders—rendering progress next to impossible.
With the oncoming of the storm began the first disagreement among the men after leaving the Gardner cabin in the morning. Again, it was a matter of the best route to be taken. Jonas Murray, a trapper who had volunteered as guide, claimed to be thoroughly familiar with the country. Not all, however, were willing to accept his guidance. Spencer and McCormick were the first to break away from his leadership. This they did when Mud Creek was reached only about eight or nine miles from the point of starting. Crossing far to the north of where Murray maintained was the proper place, these men struck directly east for the settlement which they reached within a short time after the storm broke upon them.[267]
The other members of the party lost much valuable time in wandering southward along the course of Mud Creek. Finally a crossing was effected, but much farther to the south than several thought it should have been. Against the protests of a number, Murray continued to lead the party still farther south. Near sunset Maxwell and Laughlin found a township corner pit, at which they proposed to camp for the night since they feared the loss of direction in the oncoming darkness. But Murray, Johnson, and Burkholder, thought it best to continue and so the party pressed on.[268] Ahead of them was a lake to the east of which was a great stretch of uncommonly high grass which seemed to afford good shelter. Maxwell, Laughlin, and seven others started to walk around this lake to the east; but Johnson, Burkholder, Addington, G. P. Smith, and Murray went around in the opposite direction. Finding a shelter Laughlin called to Johnson’s party which could then only be dimly seen through the sedge. Apparently he was not heard, for the men struck out toward the southeast and were not again seen before the Irish settlement was reached. Laughlin’s party decided to remain where it was rather than attempt to follow.
As soon as the halt was made the men tumbled down in a shivering heap and huddled closely together to keep from freezing. In crossing sloughs several men had removed their boots to keep them dry, while others had cut holes in the leather in order to let the water out. Carse had removed his boots, but found it impossible to replace them for they were frozen stiff. He then tore his blanket into pieces and wrapped his feet as well as he could, but even then he suffered fearfully from the cold. Maxwell and Laughlin, realizing the danger of freezing to death, did not permit themselves to sleep the whole night through: they kept constantly on the move and compelled the others to do the same. Whenever any man fell asleep the others would pick him up, arouse him, and force him to remain awake and on the move regardless of his objections. Some of the men begged that they be allowed to sleep, protesting that moving about in their ice stiffened garments was worse punishment than they could bear. Thus all night long the awful vigil was kept. It was largely due to the tireless watching of Maxwell and Laughlin that no one froze to death, although the temperature that night was said to have been thirty-four degrees below zero at points in Iowa much farther south.[269]
The next day opened clear and cold. About eight miles to the east was seen a grove of timber. Every man expressed himself as willing and able to travel; and so without breakfast (for they had no food) the party started in that direction, believing that the timber bordered the Des Moines. Maxwell was the last to leave camp, and when about three miles from the timber he found Carse sitting on the sunny side of a small mound trying to pull on his frozen boots. The blanket wrappings of his feet had already become so worn in traveling over the ice and snow that he could go no further. Maxwell endeavored to take Carse along with him, but every time he tried to guide him toward the timber Carse obstinately insisted on taking the opposite direction. It soon became evident that the man had grown delirious and that nothing could be done with him on the open prairie. Henry E. Dalley, seeing the difficulty, came to Maxwell’s assistance. The two were able to get Carse to the timber, by which time he was unconscious and blood was streaming from his mouth.[270]
Laughlin and Kellogg, who had reached the timber first, had set about the building of a fire when it was discovered that not a member of the party had matches. Laughlin’s ingenuity, however, came to the rescue. He had a gun and powder, and was wearing a vest with a heavy, quilted cotton lining. Removing some of the cotton from his vest he loaded the gun with a powder charge and rammed it down tight with cotton. He then discharged the gun into a piece of rotten wood which, after some attention, began blazing. Dalley soon arrived with the helpless Carse. When the blanket wrappings were removed from Carse’s feet the skin of the soles came with them. Dalley finally succeeded in stopping the bleeding and in reviving him. It was only a few nights before that Carse had befriended Dalley by taking him under his own blanket. The boy—for such he was, being less than twenty years of age—was poorly clad and had suffered much from the trials of the expedition. His youthful strength and courage, however, carried him safely through to the end. Meanwhile, Kellogg had seated himself at the base of a tree and before anyone had observed his need for attention he too had become unconscious from exposure. Before he could be revived it was necessary to cut his icy clothing away from his body as the only practicable means of removing it. When this had been done he gradually regained consciousness and seemed but little the worse for his experience.[271]
Laughlin and Maxwell, having attended those who were needing help and noting that all were as comfortable as conditions would permit, started out to cross the river with a view to locating the Irish settlement. They found the river frozen thick enough to support them, with the exception of a few spots over which they improvised a bridge of poles. Making their way to the margin of the timber, they saw the settlement in plain sight not over three miles away. Help was at once secured which enabled them to get the disabled members of the party across the river and to safety in the homes of the settlement. Here they found Major Williams awaiting their coming.
Without delay Major Williams sent men down the Des Moines to look for Johnson and his companions. They remained out during the whole of the day; and when they returned near dark reported that they had discovered no trace of the men, but had found a cabin in which a good fire was burning. The Major concluded that the men had been at the cabin and had then gone southward, following the course of the river. Three of the five men in the party—Smith, Addington, and Murray—came to the settlement the following morning but could give little information concerning Johnson and Burkholder. Smith had been the last to see them; and his story left no doubt in the minds of most of his hearers that the two men had perished somewhere to the west of the Des Moines River.
The two unfortunate men having become completely exhausted by wading streams and sloughs had finally sat down declaring that they were unable to go any farther. They were sheeted with ice from head to feet. Their feet were badly frozen and, unable to walk, they insisted, against Smith’s advice, upon removing their boots. Realizing that they could not replace the boots they cut their blankets in strips with which to wrap their feet. At this time they were in sight of the timber along the Des Moines River, which they were urged to exert every effort to reach. But they were unable to rise from the ground. “After vainly trying for a long time to get them to make another effort to reach the timber, Smith at last realized that to save his own life he must leave them. After going some distance he looked back and saw them still on their knees in the snow, apparently unable to rise. It is not likely they ever left the spot where Smith left them, but, overcome with cold, they finally sank down and perished side by side.”[272] Nearly eleven years later two skeletons were found near the place where Smith said he left his companions. By the guns and powder flasks lying near them the skeletons were identified as being those of Johnson and Burkholder.[273]
From Granger’s Point the return of the main body of the command was uneventful until the Irish settlement was reached and passed. It will be recalled that when the burial detail was outfitted nearly all of the scanty rations then remaining were turned over to them because of the probable hardships which would be encountered in venturing into the hostile lake region. Thus the main command was hard pressed in the matter of providing itself with adequate supplies. By the end of the first day the command had reached the cabin of an old trapper near the shore of Mud Lake. The experiences of the first night out are illustrative of the extremity to which members of the expedition were driven upon their homeward journey.
At the trapper’s cabin were found the frozen carcasses of some beaver, which it was thought could be utilized as food. But frozen beaver even when roasted failed to satisfy the hunger of the men. Captain Richards tells of one member of his company, George W. Brizee, who, as a result of exposure was suffering from a severe case of toothache and very sore feet. Finally, the pain in his feet grew easier. But “his tooth reminded him that it needed his attention; and after lying down and trying to sleep, frequently reiterating that he knew he should die, he got up and went out and returned with a hind-quarter of beaver and began to roast it over the coals; and in a half-reclining position he spent the entire night roasting and trying to eat the tough, leathery meat, first consigning his feet to a warmer climate, and then as his toothache for a time attracted most of his attention, giving us a lecture on dentistry; when his tooth was relieved for a short time he would, with both hands holding on to the partially roasted quarter of beaver, get hold with his teeth and try to tear off a piece! The picture by the weird light of the fire was a striking one”.[274]
The party did not tarry long at the Irish settlement, which was reached on the evening of the next day, since it was evident that the settlers had barely sufficient food to keep themselves alive and would surely suffer if the command remained for any length of time.[275] The day of leaving Medium Lake was a cloudy one and rather warm—just such a day as is sure to start the water running from rapidly melting snow. Only a short distance had been traveled when rain began falling—first as a drizzle, but by the time Cylinder Creek was reached it was a downpour. The prairies were flooded, while Cylinder Creek was about half a mile wide, completely covering its rather narrow bottom, which was under from two to five feet of water, while the main channel had a depth of fifteen to twenty feet and was from sixty to eighty feet wide. Obviously the problem of crossing would be a serious one. Arriving at the border of the valley about two o’clock in the afternoon the command vainly sought a passage. Then suddenly the wind veered sharply to the northwest and became a gale—the rain changing into a blinding fall of snow. This was the fearful blizzard of April fourth that overtook the Johnson party on its return from the Gardner cabin.
Captains Richards and Duncombe, not despairing of being able to effect a crossing of the main channel, undertook to improvise a boat out of a nearly new wagon box. With very little effort this wagon box was caulked water tight with bedquilt cotton. Solon Mason and Guernsey Smith were the men chosen to assist in getting the boat across the channel. But the wind blew so hard that, although Richards and Duncombe bailed water as rapidly as they could, the party scarcely reached the opposite side of the channel before the make-believe boat sank—the men barely saving themselves from drowning. Thus the attempt to take all across in that manner failed.[276] Having no blankets and unable to assist their comrades on the opposite side, there was nothing to do but hasten on to Shippey’s Point which was two or three miles distant.[277] This point they reached about nine o’clock at night. Here they were liberally fed, and by sitting around the fire all night were able to dry their clothes by exposing first one side and then the other to the fire.
When morning came the storm had abated somewhat, and so it was decided to return to the creek in an effort to locate the command. Mason had not gone far when he succumbed to the cold and had to be taken back. It seems that in crossing the Cylinder he had lost both overcoat and cap. Upon their arrival at the east side of the bottom the men could see nothing on the other side to indicate the presence of their comrades. After spending some time in trying to accomplish a crossing, they gave up the attempt and returned to Shippey’s. There they remained until about the middle of the afternoon when they again returned to the creek. This time they were no more successful than before. Resigned to the thought that the remainder of the command had either perished or returned to Medium Lake, they wandered back to Shippey’s. Shortly after their return, Hoover and Howland came in and reported that when they left the command all were safe on the west side, though suffering considerably while waiting for the channel to freeze.
Early on Monday morning, while the blizzard was yet raging and the cold was still intense, the little group at Shippey’s once more started for the creek in an effort to locate their companions. Reaching the creek, the little group saw the men on the opposite side making preparations to cross—the storm by this time having abated so that a crossing might be attempted. The creek was now solidly frozen so that the task of crossing was easy. The way to Shippey’s was soon made. Here they told the story of how they had saved themselves from the terrors of the awful storm.
From this story it appears that no thought of returning to the Irish settlement had been entertained by those who had been left behind. Major Williams and two or three others had, indeed, returned, hoping that they would there find the burial detail and guide them to the Cylinder Creek camp. Those at the latter place resolved to remain and await the dying down of the storm before making any further attempt at crossing; and they set to work to improvise a shelter. Again the tarpaulin wagon covers were brought into use and supplemented with blankets, which when fastened together were stretched around and over the wagon frames and then staked down to the frozen ground. This improvised shelter was completely closed excepting a small flap opening on the south or lea side which served the purpose of a door. Then with blankets and other covers a common bed was made; and into this the party crowded, wet from head to feet. Here they remained from Saturday night until Monday morning when a few ventured out to examine the state of the weather.[278] Finding conditions satisfactory they began the crossing after having tarried “over forty hours, without food or fire, on the open prairie, with the mercury at 32° below zero.”[279]
It is little wonder that when they started to make the crossing the men had scarcely “strength enough to reach the opposite shore.... Every man’s mouth was open wide, his tongue hanging out, and in some instances blood running from nose or mouth.”[280] Governor Carpenter, in commenting upon this terrific test of endurance notes that “since that experience upon Cylinder Creek, I have marched with armies engaged in actual war. During three and a half years’ service, the army with which I was connected, marched from Cairo to Chattanooga, from Chattanooga to Atlanta, from Atlanta to the Sea, and from the Sea through the Carolinas to Richmond.... But I never in those weary years experienced a conflict with the elements that could be compared with the two nights and one day on Cylinder Creek.”[281]
After refreshing themselves at Shippey’s the men held a consultation and reached the decision that henceforth the command should break up into small details—a plan that seemed necessary on account of the increasing difficulty of securing food. Each group was to find its way home in the best manner it might be able to devise. Every man was ordered to rid himself of all surplus baggage, retaining only his blanket. Thus the expedition really came to an end with the crossing of Cylinder Creek. But the hardships of the men were not ended; before a number of the squads reached home they endured trials almost as severe as those encountered before crossing the Cylinder.
The experience of the little group which Frank R. Mason undertook to guide is perhaps typical of the hardships of the journey south from Shippey’s. Mason had frequently been north of Fort Dodge hunting in the timber along Lott’s Creek, and for that reason he was selected by a Webster City group to pilot them home. With his party he struck out boldly across the prairie in a line which he thought would lead to a clearing in the timber where he knew they would receive a hearty welcome. As darkness came on the men began to show exhaustion; but the looked-for timber along Lott’s Creek did not appear. One of the men, Hathaway by name, became wholly exhausted and had to be carried. Within a short time he became delirious; and then the united efforts of three of the party were needed to keep him under control, with only indifferent success. Finally passing into a stupor he was more easily managed.