Old Fort Snelling, 1819-1858

by Marcus Lee Hansen

These councils were frequent occurrences, and their importance lies in the fact that through them certain principles could be instilled into the minds of the natives under the most favorable circumstances. The words spoken by the agent on these occasions had probably as much effect in controlling the Indians as a like number of bullets would have had. Major Taliaferro has recorded one of the orations which he delivered to his listening wards. He referred to the presence of the Great Spirit, told of his long service among them, eulogized their departed elders—“the old branches which have fallen from the Trunk of the old oak of your Nation”—and then inserted a few wise admonitions as to the futility of their wars with the Chippewas.

“Your Great Father”, he said, “has had much to do with war—but his heart is changed for peace & he wishes all his red children as well as his white ones to follow his good example—he knows this course to be best for all—we should endeavor to please him—for by doing so we shall please the Great Spirit also—You will see your children growing up around you and your wives smiling as you approach from your days hunt.”

The speech ended with the announcement of the coming of “something good from below” and an approaching visit to the village of the Red Head.[284]

During these meetings at the agency the sound of the fort's cannon and the sight of the well-uniformed guards impressed the Indians even more than did the words of the agent. There they became acquainted with white men other than traders, and when exploring and scientific expeditions came over the plains with a guard of soldiers, they were wise enough not to interfere. These visits in themselves were pleasant, and the rations of bread and pork offered an agreeable respite from their usual fare.[285]

At the time of the treaty of Prairie du Chien in 1825 one ration consisted of one pound of bread or one pint of corn and either one pound of beef or three-quarters of a pound of pork. This may be taken as a fair standard of the kind of rations issued at the agency.[286] It was during the winter months especially when starvation or suffering would otherwise result that this aid was given to the Indians. During the summer when other means of subsistence were present, all appeals for food were refused.[287] This custom of granting rations was formally incorporated in the law of June 30, 1834, with the only restriction that they were to be given only if “they can be spared from the army provisions without injury to the service”.[288]

The condition of the tribes was often appalling, and many deaths would have occurred without this aid. At one time Taliaferro wrote that “400 Indians encamped near the Agency—many from a distance and in a starving condition.”[289] Often he had to take from his own private funds, after he had drawn all he could from the public stores.[290] The winter of 1842–1843 was particularly severe. On the first of November the ground was covered with snow which as late as April still lay from two to two and a half feet deep. No hunting was possible because of the drifts, and fishing through the ice was impracticable, the wind blowing the holes full of snow as soon as they were cut. The Indians living about Lac qui Parle, about two hundred miles up the Minnesota River, came with the missionary Dr. Thomas Williamson to winter on the site of old Camp Cold Water, knowing that only from the fort could they obtain relief.

Everything that was possible was done. Blankets, guns, and ammunition to the value of $2500 were granted the Indians. Indeed, so many provisions were distributed that on April 3rd it was computed that there was only enough left to supply the garrison until the opening of navigation. The officers and soldiers saved all the remains from the tables and once a day the squaws and children were allowed to enter and receive these crumbs. The Indians who were away from the post were not neglected. Sixty bushels of corn and several barrels of pork were furnished by Major Dearborn to Mr. H. H. Sibley who sent them to destitute Indians on the Minnesota River. Still there was much suffering, for not enough food could be spared to satisfy all. Before spring arrived many of the Indians lived upon a syrup made of hickory chips and the boiled bark of the bitter sweet. All became greatly emaciated and some were unable to walk.[291]

From time to time a solitary Indian on a business visit to the trader would drop in to chat with the “Father”. Here he could make any complaints which he had to offer and be sure of a sympathetic if not satisfactory answer. “I have had more than fourteen hundred Indians on visits from all Sections of this Agency during the Month past—and all with Grieveances of Some Sort to redress”, wrote Taliaferro on June 30, 1838.[292] In all matters concerning lands, hunting, treaties, annuities, and the like, the Indian looked only to the agent for advice or explanation. Instigated by the traders, many of whom were hostile to him, the Indians considered him responsible for the acts of the soldiers.[293] If a provision of a treaty was not carried out, the Indians thought it was Taliaferro's fault “for they know nothing of Congress or of their Multifarious and protracted debates, and proceedings.”[294]

A personal present was due the visitor at these “shake hands” occasions. If he were a headman or a brave he received a pound of powder, two pounds of lead, a fish line, a knife, four fish hooks, and six plugs of tobacco. If he were “any respectable Individual” he was sure of a knife, four fish hooks, and six plugs of tobacco.[295] These individual visits did much to acquaint the natives personally with the agent, in the same way that the council impressed them with the agent's great power.

But even more appreciated was the help offered in time of sickness. On December 25, 1830, Taliaferro records in his diary: “I rode up the SPeters to See an Indian.… Doctor Wood went up also—I dressed her wound—I Sent my Interpreter up with other restoratives—she being delerious.”[296] On Saturday, June 28, 1834, there came to him a brave saying that both his son and daughter were ill. “Sent a message to Doct Jarvis to call & see the girl.” The Sioux boy died two days later. But there the ministration did not end. To the mourners were given cotton and calico, or a blanket in order that the body might be decently covered.[297]