Post by sara on Dec 12, 2005 10:26:25 GMT -5
I just happened upon this website with testimony from Dakota in 1862
www.hamline.edu/~fjohnson/mncivil/lesson_6.html
Small parties of Dakota continued to surrender to Col. Sibley's forces in the days following the Indians' release of their captives. They had been fighting for nearly six weeks and many had exhausted their food supplies. Remaining on the prairie meant death. Sibley, feeling he had accomplished his mission, asked Gen. Pope to be relieved of his command - a request that was denied. President Lincoln, meanwhile, recommended that Sibley be promoted to brigadier general of volunteers.1
Those Dakota surrendering found little mercy. Beginning on September 28, a five-man military commission held trials at their base near the captive release site (now commonly called Camp Release), for those accused of taking part in the fighting. Joseph Godfrey (or Otakle), first to be tried, was found guilty of murder and sentenced to death by hanging. Godfrey then turned state's evidence and testified in detail against other Dakota men. The commission dealt with 29 cases in the first week of trials with the majority of prisoners convicted and sentenced to death. In two weeks time, more than 120 Dakota had been tried but nearly 300 cases remained open.
Charles Crawford (Wakanhinape) was the son of Akipa, a full-blood Dakota, and Winona Crawford, a mixed-blood who clerked at the the Yellow Medicine agency, was tried twice by the military tribunal and both times acquitted. He detailed his trials:
The day that General Sibley came to Camp Release an officer came to me and told me that I was wanted at headquarters. I went over there and went in. I found in there a number of officers, and among them one whom I knew afterwards to be Colonel Crooks, who wrote a paper about me, stating that I was accused of killing a white man. He asked if that was so. I told him no; and then he said to me:
If you lie about this, there is a man who knows about it and will tell on you. "I then told them, as I have told you here, about going to hunt for my sister, and all that, up to the time that I went to the battle of New Ulm. Then the guard went and brought Lorenzo Lawrence. Lawrence was asked if he knew me, and he said yes; then he was asked if knew of my killing a white man. He said no. "Why do you then accuse this man of killing a white man?" - this question was put to Lawrence. He said he heard that. Then Lawrence was asked how he heard of it, and he said again "Oh I heard of it." Then Lawrence was asked who told him this, and he said that he had heard it, but didn't know exactly where he had heard it. Then Lawrence came out and one Anton [Antoine] Frenier was brought in, who accused me of breaking open a barrel of whisky, getting the Indians drunk, and starting with them on a war party. That is what Frenier accused me of, but that is not true, because I was not there. The second thing I was accused of was by a white man, a soldier [John Magner], that claimed that I was very close to him at the battle of Wood Lake, chasing him, and that he just barely saved his life by my not being able to catch him. At that trial we told of our being on the west side of the battlefield during the battle. When this soldier was questioned, he said that this band was on the east side of the road and on the east of the battle grounds; but we were not on that side at all. That was all of the trial.2
Under one particularly effective ruse, Sibley's men gathered 236 Dakota soldiers for trial without any resistance. An interpreter told the Indians, who gathered under Sibley's promise of protection to all who were innocent, to report to receive their unpaid annuities. The Dakota families reported as ordered, giving their names to clerks and then being told to step into a room to receive their pay. They were then told to give up their weapons, after a promise that they would get them back. The men were then taken prisoner and chained by the ankles, two-by-two. As historian William Watts Folwell later wrote, "...military necessity may have justified this ‘strategy,' but the reader may judge whether it was calculated to increase the Indians' respect either for the truthfulness or the bravery of the white man."3
The five-man commission concluded some cases in three weeks but was under pressure to move faster. The military court responded, holding as many as 40 hearings in a day, with some completed in as little as five minutes. In all, the court tried 392 Indians during the five weeks after fighting ended and sentenced 307 to death and given 16 terms in prison. Sibley approved all decisions except one and sent the results of the trial to Gen. Pope.
The condemned men and Indian women as cooks and laundresses set out for Mankato. There were 417 in all. At Henderson, a crowd of men, women and children rushed the Indians before the soldiers guarding them could interfere. A number of Indians were beaten, some severely injured. One white woman rushed up to a nursing mother and snatched her child. The attacker violently smashed the Indian child's head against the ground. The infant died a few hours later.4
Wakanajaja (or George Crooks), nearly seven years old, was among a group of Dakota loaded into Red River carts and started for the Lower Agency and Mankato. He was crowded into a cart and bound together with two men and his 16-year old brother. Near New Ulm the caravan was set upon by a group of men and women waving their arms and shouting loudly. The ox cart driver tried to turn away from the crowd but the mob reached Wakanajaja's cart. He recalled, "We were pounded to a jelly, my arms, feet, and head resembled raw beef steak. How I escaped is a mystery to me. My brother was killed and when I realized he was dead I felt the only person in the world to look after me was gone and I wished at the time they had killed me. "Sibley later reported that it took a bayonet charge by his men to drive back the infuriated crowd. On the night of December 4, a mob from Mankato marched toward the military camp where the prisoners were being held, intent on killing the captives. They too were stopped by Sibley's guards.5
President Lincoln felt the nearly unanimous pressure from Minnesota to execute the convicted prisoners. Sibley, Pope and Gov. Ramsey were in favor as was the press. The loudest voice raised in defense of the Indians was that of Episcopal Bishop Henry Whipple. In a letter to the St. Paul Pioneer he wrote that the question of punishment should "not be settled by passion." Lincoln reduced to 39 the number of Indians to be killed. One of the condemned Dakota was later removed from the death list. In Minnesota, Lincoln's decision was viewed by the non-Indian population as far too lenient.6
Rdainyanka dictated a letter to his father-in-law Wabasha telling of his feelings of betrayal. "You have deceived me. You told me that if we followed the advice of General Sibley, and give ourselves up to the whites, all would be well; no innocent man would be injured. I have not killed, wounded, or injured a white man, or any white persons. I have not participated in the plunder of their property; and yet to-day I am set apart for execution, and must die in a few days, while men who are guilty will remain in prison. My wife is your daughter, my children are your grandchildren. I leave them all in your care and under your protection. Do not let them suffer; and when my children are grown up, let them know that their father died because he followed the advice of his chief, and without having the blood of a white man to answer for to the Great Spirit. My wife and children are dear to me. Let them not grieve for me. Let them remember that the brave should be prepared to meet death; and I will do as becomes a Dakota."
Find more to this on the website listed at top.
Sara
www.hamline.edu/~fjohnson/mncivil/lesson_6.html
Small parties of Dakota continued to surrender to Col. Sibley's forces in the days following the Indians' release of their captives. They had been fighting for nearly six weeks and many had exhausted their food supplies. Remaining on the prairie meant death. Sibley, feeling he had accomplished his mission, asked Gen. Pope to be relieved of his command - a request that was denied. President Lincoln, meanwhile, recommended that Sibley be promoted to brigadier general of volunteers.1
Those Dakota surrendering found little mercy. Beginning on September 28, a five-man military commission held trials at their base near the captive release site (now commonly called Camp Release), for those accused of taking part in the fighting. Joseph Godfrey (or Otakle), first to be tried, was found guilty of murder and sentenced to death by hanging. Godfrey then turned state's evidence and testified in detail against other Dakota men. The commission dealt with 29 cases in the first week of trials with the majority of prisoners convicted and sentenced to death. In two weeks time, more than 120 Dakota had been tried but nearly 300 cases remained open.
Charles Crawford (Wakanhinape) was the son of Akipa, a full-blood Dakota, and Winona Crawford, a mixed-blood who clerked at the the Yellow Medicine agency, was tried twice by the military tribunal and both times acquitted. He detailed his trials:
The day that General Sibley came to Camp Release an officer came to me and told me that I was wanted at headquarters. I went over there and went in. I found in there a number of officers, and among them one whom I knew afterwards to be Colonel Crooks, who wrote a paper about me, stating that I was accused of killing a white man. He asked if that was so. I told him no; and then he said to me:
If you lie about this, there is a man who knows about it and will tell on you. "I then told them, as I have told you here, about going to hunt for my sister, and all that, up to the time that I went to the battle of New Ulm. Then the guard went and brought Lorenzo Lawrence. Lawrence was asked if he knew me, and he said yes; then he was asked if knew of my killing a white man. He said no. "Why do you then accuse this man of killing a white man?" - this question was put to Lawrence. He said he heard that. Then Lawrence was asked how he heard of it, and he said again "Oh I heard of it." Then Lawrence was asked who told him this, and he said that he had heard it, but didn't know exactly where he had heard it. Then Lawrence came out and one Anton [Antoine] Frenier was brought in, who accused me of breaking open a barrel of whisky, getting the Indians drunk, and starting with them on a war party. That is what Frenier accused me of, but that is not true, because I was not there. The second thing I was accused of was by a white man, a soldier [John Magner], that claimed that I was very close to him at the battle of Wood Lake, chasing him, and that he just barely saved his life by my not being able to catch him. At that trial we told of our being on the west side of the battlefield during the battle. When this soldier was questioned, he said that this band was on the east side of the road and on the east of the battle grounds; but we were not on that side at all. That was all of the trial.2
Under one particularly effective ruse, Sibley's men gathered 236 Dakota soldiers for trial without any resistance. An interpreter told the Indians, who gathered under Sibley's promise of protection to all who were innocent, to report to receive their unpaid annuities. The Dakota families reported as ordered, giving their names to clerks and then being told to step into a room to receive their pay. They were then told to give up their weapons, after a promise that they would get them back. The men were then taken prisoner and chained by the ankles, two-by-two. As historian William Watts Folwell later wrote, "...military necessity may have justified this ‘strategy,' but the reader may judge whether it was calculated to increase the Indians' respect either for the truthfulness or the bravery of the white man."3
The five-man commission concluded some cases in three weeks but was under pressure to move faster. The military court responded, holding as many as 40 hearings in a day, with some completed in as little as five minutes. In all, the court tried 392 Indians during the five weeks after fighting ended and sentenced 307 to death and given 16 terms in prison. Sibley approved all decisions except one and sent the results of the trial to Gen. Pope.
The condemned men and Indian women as cooks and laundresses set out for Mankato. There were 417 in all. At Henderson, a crowd of men, women and children rushed the Indians before the soldiers guarding them could interfere. A number of Indians were beaten, some severely injured. One white woman rushed up to a nursing mother and snatched her child. The attacker violently smashed the Indian child's head against the ground. The infant died a few hours later.4
Wakanajaja (or George Crooks), nearly seven years old, was among a group of Dakota loaded into Red River carts and started for the Lower Agency and Mankato. He was crowded into a cart and bound together with two men and his 16-year old brother. Near New Ulm the caravan was set upon by a group of men and women waving their arms and shouting loudly. The ox cart driver tried to turn away from the crowd but the mob reached Wakanajaja's cart. He recalled, "We were pounded to a jelly, my arms, feet, and head resembled raw beef steak. How I escaped is a mystery to me. My brother was killed and when I realized he was dead I felt the only person in the world to look after me was gone and I wished at the time they had killed me. "Sibley later reported that it took a bayonet charge by his men to drive back the infuriated crowd. On the night of December 4, a mob from Mankato marched toward the military camp where the prisoners were being held, intent on killing the captives. They too were stopped by Sibley's guards.5
President Lincoln felt the nearly unanimous pressure from Minnesota to execute the convicted prisoners. Sibley, Pope and Gov. Ramsey were in favor as was the press. The loudest voice raised in defense of the Indians was that of Episcopal Bishop Henry Whipple. In a letter to the St. Paul Pioneer he wrote that the question of punishment should "not be settled by passion." Lincoln reduced to 39 the number of Indians to be killed. One of the condemned Dakota was later removed from the death list. In Minnesota, Lincoln's decision was viewed by the non-Indian population as far too lenient.6
Rdainyanka dictated a letter to his father-in-law Wabasha telling of his feelings of betrayal. "You have deceived me. You told me that if we followed the advice of General Sibley, and give ourselves up to the whites, all would be well; no innocent man would be injured. I have not killed, wounded, or injured a white man, or any white persons. I have not participated in the plunder of their property; and yet to-day I am set apart for execution, and must die in a few days, while men who are guilty will remain in prison. My wife is your daughter, my children are your grandchildren. I leave them all in your care and under your protection. Do not let them suffer; and when my children are grown up, let them know that their father died because he followed the advice of his chief, and without having the blood of a white man to answer for to the Great Spirit. My wife and children are dear to me. Let them not grieve for me. Let them remember that the brave should be prepared to meet death; and I will do as becomes a Dakota."
Find more to this on the website listed at top.
Sara