Old Fort Snelling, 1819-1858

by Marcus Lee Hansen

Apart from these trips abroad and the stated drills and terms of guard duty the tasks which occupied the time of the soldiers depended upon the season of the year. A general order of September 11, 1818, had commanded the making of gardens at all the military posts.[249] In the fall of 1819 when the temporary cabins at New Hope Cantonment had been built, the soldiers began ploughing for the crop of the next summer.[250] Major Long, in 1823, found two hundred and ten acres under cultivation—one hundred of wheat, sixty of maize, fifteen of oats, fourteen of potatoes, and twenty acres in gardens.[251] All through the history of Old Fort Snelling the soldiers were employed as farmers. A visitor in 1852 observed that “its garrison is rather deficient in active employment, and we noticed a number of the rank and file taking exercise in a large corn and vegetable field attached to the Fort. It was certainly not exactly soldierly employment, but it was more manly, to our mind, than shooting and stabbing at $8 a month, and no question asked.”[252]

For the horses and cattle kept at the fort a great deal of hay was necessary for the winter months. This was obtained from the broad prairies of the military reservation. A group of men called the “Hay Party” were employed during the summer in cutting and stacking the long grass. But one officer was of the opinion that this task caused discontent—the enlisted man was no more than a common laborer and hence he lost the pride of a soldier.

The diverse tasks at which a soldier might be called to labor are indicated by a summary of the employment of the troops in 1827. Seven soldiers were acting as teamsters, five were performing carpenters' duties, two were quarrying stone, two men and a sergeant composed the party guarding the mills at the Falls of St. Anthony, and eight others were “Procuring forage by order of Col. Snelling”.[253]

Summer brought its own pleasures as well as duties. At Lake Calhoun, Lake Harriet, Lake of the Isles, and Minnehaha Falls, many were the picnics held when visitors came to the garrison.[254] Swan, geese, and ducks were numerous about the lakes and swamps, and with the famous hunter H. H. Sibley as a guide, the game bags were soon filled. During a period of three years, Mr. Sibley, alone, shot 1798 ducks—a fact which indicates what success a soldier-sportsman could have in his few hours of recreation.[255]

But it was when the prairies were impassable because of drifts of snow from six to fifteen feet high,[256] and when the course of the river could be traced only by a streak of white between the gray of its wooded banks that there appeared those features which are peculiar to the life of a remote garrison. The isolation was almost complete. There was no traffic upon the frozen river, and the traders were wintering in the Indian villages. Only through the mail was communication with the outside world possible. It was planned to have a monthly mail service, soldiers being sent to Prairie du Chien with the letters. Here they delivered about two-thirds of the mail to the persons to whom it was addressed and the rest was deposited in the post office.[257]

In summer the mail was carried by the soldiers in canoes, but in winter the journey had to be made on foot. In summer the labor was lightened when a passing steamer overtook the rowing soldiers and picked up the canoe with its crew. In winter no such aid was possible. A hard day's tramp was followed by a night among the drifts, unless the tepee of some friendly Indian gave a temporary respite for a few hours.[258]

Nor was this task free from perils. A system was arranged whereby a courier from Fort Snelling and one from Prairie du Chien set out at about the same time, meeting at Wabasha's village where the packs were exchanged and each returned to his own post. On one occasion a spring thaw overtook the carrier from Prairie du Chien, who had proceeded beyond the meeting place because the messenger from the north was late. Suddenly the ice groaned and cracked, and the postman with difficulty found safety on a small island where, to his great surprise, he found the postman from Fort Snelling who had been caught in the same manner. Their provisions soon gave out; for a while they had only rose-apples to eat. It was not until almost two weeks later that the two half-starved messengers were picked up by the canoes of some friendly Sioux.[259]

Such accidents rendered the mail service uncertain, and it was with impatience that the watchers at the fort looked down the river for the coming of the news-carriers. On April 2, 1831, Taliaferro wrote: “The Express departed—4 men in a Skiff—to convey the Mail to the Post Office at Prairie du Chiens—our return Express daily expected.” But they hoped too early and on April 5th it was recorded that “Our Express—1st which left for Prairie du Chiens on the 2d of March—has now been Absent more than a Month & progressing in the Seccond. We have not had inteligence from Washington City—since the 6th of December last”. Not until April 10th did the mail arrive. But even when the messengers were safe in the fort it was not certain that they brought what was so eagerly looked for, as the entry on February 27th clearly shows: “Lieut Williams & Mr Bailly returned this eveng from Prairie du Chiens but brought no Mail there having been no arrival since December.”[260] It was during this winter that even Prairie du Chien was shut off from the outside, the amount of snow between Peoria and Prairie du Chien stopping the mail service for two months. Again and again during the winter months the commanding officer complained to headquarters that “no Orders have been received within the Month”.[261]

The duties of the soldiers during the winter were few. From the time it was built up to 1833 the quarters at Fort Snelling were heated by fireplaces. At that time, however, stoves were substituted.[262] Wood was used for fuel—to obtain which was a never-ending task in winter. When Captain Seth Eastman was in command at various periods from 1844 to 1848 the garrison had to go from eight to ten miles for wood. The banks of the Minnesota River were bordered by a forest varying from one hundred to three hundred yards wide; but by 1858 all of this for a distance of twelve miles had been cleared off.[263]

Colonel John H. Bliss, who was a boy at Fort Snelling when his father was in command during the thirties, wrote that the winters “were undeniably tedious, but had their uses; we had a good library, and I read a great deal, which has stood by me well; then there was of course much sociability among the officers, and a great deal of playing of cards, dominoes, checkers, and chess. The soldiers, too, would get up theatrical performances every fortnight or so, those taking female parts borrowing dresses from the soldiers' wives, and making a generous sacrifice to art of their cherished whiskers and mustaches.”[264]