From a Column by Well Clay
taken From the Hutchinson Leader
January 28, 1893
With
his arrow and his bow
The
Indian used to go
Hunting
in this region roundabout.
If
his family was to eat
He
had to furnish meat;
That
of course they couldn’t do without.
It
was a thousand miles or more
To
the nearest grocery store
Besides,
he didn’t have the cash,
So
they lived from year to year
On
the venison from the deer
In
every style from steak to hash.
Their
only change of dish
Was
now and then a fish
Of
some wild fowl from the air
One
of their regular habits
Was
to fricassee some rabbits
Which
they easily could snare.
When
first the white man came
It
was pretty much the same
Except
that then he had a gun.
In
the woods his daily chore
Was
to go hunting as before;
Just
as he had always done.
Now
as history will show
the
Red brother had to go
With
the coming of the plow
Tho
the Indians put up a fight-
Holding
they were in the right-
None
of them are here right now.
They
just drifted towards the west
When
they couldn’t stand the test
Hating
like the heck to go-
But
what were they do to
When
they saw that they were through
Now
their day is over long ago.
# #
# #
Many a page and volume has been written about the Indian
tribes that occupied this country a hundred years ago. Some make then out as savage friends, while
others said they did no more than could be expected of any one trying to fight
off interlopers who were trying to steal their lands. Some were good no doubt, just like white
brothers, and some were quite the opposite as historians so plainly set forth.
This
article is not to comment on the rights or wrongs of the question, but to
merely set forth how two different people saw things differently.
Last
week we had Dr. Benjamin’s
version. This week we print another
version as recollected by another pioneer, A. A. hopper. Mr. Hopper writes as follows:
“Dear
Sir:
I
find in the Leader of January 6, the statement made by my old neighbor, Dr.
John Benjamin, about what became of the remains of the great Indian chief,
Little Crow. You say your reporter found
his mind a "“veritable storehouse of interesting reminiscences.” Now, I imagine if Mr. Benjamin’s mind were as
clear as it was 30 years ago, he would not have talked just as he did. His mind may be all right, but his memory is
badly shaken, or he would not have told you that yarn about Andrew Hopper and
John Dewing being hired to dig up Little Crow’s body. If he writes any more
about what happened around Hutchinson n 1862-63, let him make some inquiry
among the old settlers before he uses my name.
I don’t claim to be a saint, but I hope I am no more of a sinner than my
neighbors.
I
will tell you the true story of the killing of Little Crow on July 3rd,
1863.
Old
Mr. Lamson and his son, Chauncy, started from Hutchinson for their farm to look
after their stock. At about 5 in the
afternoon, they saw two Indians picking raspberries. They had no horses with them. The Lamsons were close to them. The Indians were so busy in the berry patch
that they did not notice the white men till old Mr. Lamson fired his gun.
He
put a bullet into Little Crow just above the hip bone. Little Crow raised his gun, but Chauncy put a
bullet through his left breast that laid him out.
The
Lamsons then broke for the brush, one on one side of the road and one on the
other. They did not see each other again
until the next day in Hutchinson. Each thought the other was dead. When they separated, the father had the
powder horn, so Chauncy couldn’t load his gun, and thinking his father dead,
and being sure there were more Indians than the two, the boy started for town,
arriving there about sundown.
He
told his story and said his father was dead, but about sunrise the next morning
the old gent came in without a scratch on him.
His story is about as follows:
“When
Chauncy left me I was lying down in the brush, not over two rods from the
Indians. Young Crow put new moccasins on
his father’s feet, a block of wood under his head and laid him out in Indian
style. Then the young Indian left. I laid there till after dark, afraid to get
up. After listening a long time and
hearing nothing, I got u and started, and here I am – all sound but badly
scared.”
We
got a team as soon as we could and some armed men and went out after the dead
Indian. About 11 o’clock they got back
with the body. They stopped the wagon in
front of my shop and unhitched the horses and let it stand there so everyone in
town could see the body. No one in town
could identify it but Mr. Belden, who said it was Little Crow. But when Mr. Sumner said it was not, I should
have thought that after Mr. Benjamin had entertained and fed Little Crow and
five of his braves several weeks the winter before, he would have recognized
the body.
That
is what makes me think Mr. Benjamin’s memory is at fault. Mr. Benjamin and Mr. Sharp hauled the wagon
away and put the body in a hole and covered it with sand. Then one of our good Christians was not
satisfied to let the old Indian rest, but went and cut his head off and sent it
to St. Paul and sold it for ten dollars.
That man may think this is forgotten by the old settlers but it is not,
and that head was not cut off by any officer, but by a citizen of the town.
Along
the fore part of August as I was walking along by the river I saw Dr. Twitchell
and some of his men, about where the cemetery now stands, with their coats off
and sleeves rolled up. I saw in a minute
what was going on. They had the body of
Little Crow out of the grave and was stripping the flesh off the bones with
their hands and putting the bones in a box.
I went on about my business, but was dong some big thinking.
I
went up to the bridge, sat on a knoll and watched ‘till I saw them sink the box
in the river. I kept dark for four or
five days, but kept on thinking ‘till I got a plan thought out.
I
know that Dr. Twitchell and old Mr. Dewing were at loggerheads, so I went to
Mr. Dewing and asked him if he would help me come a drive on Twitchell. He was glad of the chance. About 10 o’clock that night he and Sam Dewing
and myself went down to the river and got the box out and run a rope around it
and carried it up the hill into the brush back of where Mr. Pendergast’s
buildings were. The next morning I went
over to Sumner’s store and got an empty candle box and we broke the other box
open and put the bones into it and put stones into the Twitchell’s box and left
it for him. Then the Dewing boys took the bones to lake Jennie and they were
left there, nobody any wiser, for several years, till Dr. Barber heard about
them and he made sort of trade with old Mr. Dewing and brought them to
Hutchinson, but there was not enough of them to fix up a skeleton. Here I leave Little Crow. But I can take Young Cro’s trail from where
he left his father’s body to where he was run in.”
--Andrew
A. Hopper,
St. Louis, MO.
Jan. 28, 1893
References
– W. W. Pendergast, David Sivright, David A. Adams, Oliver Pierce, Charles
Andrews, and many others if you want them.
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